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suugarbabe · 2 months

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drunken daydreams | s.b. x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of drinking, pining, fluff

a/n: little fun fact i found out, beer pong was invented in the 1950's?? also this is for week three of jinxed july for my wives <3

Hopeless. That is what it felt like to crush on Sirius Black. Hopeless because Sirius was, well…everything. He was charming beyond belief, even professors falling for his half turned smile and cheeky winks. He was absolutely gorgeous, unfairly so really, onyx hair that fell in messy tendrils no matter how many times he ran his ring glad fingers through it. His eyes were always playfully full of mischief, but if you truly paid attention to him (and you did) you could tell that they shifted just the slightest bit in shade depending on his mood. His mouth seemed to permanently be painted with a smirk unless someone was telling him ‘no’, then his powder pink lips would puff in a pout and who in their right mind could deny that look? (certainly not you).

When Lily asked you to spend a week at James’s family cabin with her over summer holiday you had originally said no. James’s cabin meant Sirius’s cabin since the latter now lived with the former; that and they were attached at the hip with no hope of prying them apart. Lily had pouted, begging you to say yes, but going only seemed like torture. Torture because it’d be a week essentially alone with Sirius as Lily and James would likely frequently find couple things to do, Marlene and Dorcus would be hiking everyday and Remus would seclude himself with ‘peace and quite for once’. Alone time with Sirius made you nervous because you were nearly, practically, almost one hundred percent sure that your feelings toward Sirius were not reciprocated.

But that did not stop Lily from employing the raven haired boy to get you to change your mind. Which is how you found yourself conveniently alone with Sirius in the train compartment on the ride back from Hogwarts. “Pretty please, you can’t not go, everyone’s going,” in classic fashion with his little pout and his eyes widened. You tried to avert your gaze from his, knowing if you looked too long you’d give in. But this tactic failed miserably as Sirius simply moved back into your view, “I’m literally begging here, love,” and oh how he looked so pretty begging. “Please say yes, I cannot hear James or Lils complain the whole week. I need you there.”

He needed you there. That’s what he had said. And that one phrase spun a slew of delusional scenarios in your mind that led you to agree to join the rest of the group for the week.

It wasn’t as bad as you originally anticipated in the beginning. The lot of you gathered at the Potter’s manner, utilizing the floo system for their hike to the cabin, that experience going surprisingly swimmingly for it being your first time. The first night at the cabin you guys decided on a bonfire. “It’s like christening the place,” James had said, with much encouragement from Sirius and much to the eye roll of Remus. “We’ll go get drinks started!” Lily grabbed your arm, pulling you up from your chair and back towards the door of the cabin, “any requests or all we good with surprises?”

James Dorcus and Remus laid out drink orders while Marlene said you could surprise her. You turned to Sirius as he spoke next, “You know my drink, don’t you love?” You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping the heat you felt wasn’t making itself prominent as a blush on your cheeks, “Firewhiskey with cola, right?” Sirius winked, nodding in confirmation and the swarm of butterflies in your stomach started humming.

Back in the kitchen Lily was practically vibrating with excitement. You let out a long sigh, “Something got you worked up Lils? Wanna share with the class?” Lily wore a small grin as she filled all the glasses with ice, “I’m just thinking about what I saw and if you saw it too.” You halted in filling Sirius's glass, resting both hands on the counter in front of you, “What do you think you saw? Because James’s googly eyes over you is basically a daily occurrence, I didn’t think it’d have you this excited still.” Lily rolled her eyes at your statement, “I’m very clearly talking about Sirius and you.”

You made a scrunched face at this, “There’s nothing between me and Sirius. Well, like we’re friends, obviously, but you know there’s nothing more.” Lily shrugged, a slight curl to her lips as she continued making drinks. “Lils, please. He doesn’t like me like that. It would never happen and honestly…” you grabbed a few glasses in your hands, “I’m coming to terms with that.” You were not coming to terms with it. But it would be far easier than having all your friends thinking you’re hopelessly pining after him. What doesn’t help is Lily’s next response, “I dunno, babes. I could see the two of you together.” She slid the back door open with her elbow before walking back onto the deck, calling out that drinks were ready.

That one comment had you reeling, overanalyzing every interaction and conversation you had ever had with Sirius. You barely even registered that he spoke to you when you handed him his drink before taking your seat in the lawn chair next to his. You glanced his way when you felt his stare after a moment, “Sorry, Siri, did you say something?” Sirius smiled sweetly at you, a hint of something you couldn’t read in his eyes, “Just a thanks for the drink, love.” The commonplace pet name had your cheeks aflame but you prayed to Merlin the light of the bonfire hid the evidence.

As the night went on and the drinks flowed, everyone was eventually corralled inside for what James called a “mandatory game of beer pong” after Lily agreed to play (and be his partner) with the promise that everyone would play ‘the muggle way’, no use of magic for assistance. Everyone agreed and placed their wands on the counter and paired up, you finding yourself partnered with Sirius. Remus stated he would be the officiant to “help keep Sirius and James in line and following the rules” much to their promises to play cleanly. “Ready, partner?” Sirius called you up to the table, dropping the ping pong ball in one of the cups closest to him. You nodded, a tight lip smile on your lips to try and help hide the nerves that were brewing inside.

You looked across the table at Lily and James, the red head trying to conceal her smirk as she looked from you to Sirius and back. You rolled your eyes with a slight smile before Sirius started smack talking James. “Oh you’re in for it now, Potter. You and your little Lilly flower are cute and all, but you’re no match for me and y/n/n here, isn’t that right, love?” Sirius held his hand out palm up, clearly waiting for you to slap it. You gave him a high five and a small nervous laugh, “Y-yeah, right.”

To your surprise Sirius was actually correct; James and Lily were horrible at beer pong, but you and Sirius looked like seasoned champions. The game against them went rather quickly, James sulking against Lilly on the couch as Marlene and Dorcus re-racked the red cups. This game proved to be a little more difficult, the girls being able to really go toe to toe with you and Sirius, you were down to two cups left to sink, while Marlene and Dorcus only had three cups. Marlene stood tall at the end of the table, ping pong ball in hand. She closed one eye, Dorcus semi-slurring encouragements to her before Marlene gave the ball a light toss.

You watched as the ball arched in the air coming down towards one of the last three cups. The ball began the swirl around the rim of the cup and your next actions were more on instinct than real knowledge or skill of the game. You bent down near the cup, giving a quick blow of air near the ball before watching the physics of the combination making the ball jump from the cup and land back onto the table. Sirius let out a gleeful noise of shock, whereas Marlene and Dorcas began protesting, “Hey! We said no magic! Remus, that’s a foul we get that cup right?!” Sirius, however, was quick to go to your defense, “Nuh-uh, there was no magic involved, that’s just how good y/n/n’s blowing abilities are!”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, Dorcas rattling off a teasing remark before Sirius could correct himself, “Oh? And how would you know about her blowing abilities, Black?” The drinks were getting to you slightly, a small giggle bubbling from your throat as Sirius tried his best to defend himself, “I, well…erm, that’s not what I meant…I-I mean,” he turned to face you, his eyes half lidded as they made contact with yours, “Don’t you look at me like that, love.” A lazy smile adorned your face, “I’m not looking at you any kind of way, Siri.”

Sirius shook his head in disagreement, “You’re giving me those eyes.” You batted your eyelashes a few times, “I’m not giving you any special eyes. Besides, if you’re wanting to know about my abilities, you can just tell me.” Sirius’s eyes widened before he let out a huff of air through his nose, “No, I don’t, I want to- I mean, you did the, the thing- and then Dorcus said what she said and so I just - I, erm, n-no I’m good.” While you laughed a little at his stumbling, you couldn’t deny the pit growing in your stomach the longer he tried to find nice ways to essentially reject your playful advance.

Luckily you didn’t have to hide your dejection for long as you and Sirius lost to the girls and now your solemn look could be explained by the loss of the game instead of the loss of any chance you had with Sirius. You gave him a half-hearted smile before going to find a seat on one of the couches as James and Lily went to play against the winners. You only half paid attention the game, every interaction with Sirius from the night playing back over and over in your mind. Why did he have to be so bloody hard to read?

To even get you on this trip in the first place he said he needed you there. But you don’t speak two each other in any capacity until everyone arrived at James’s manor. Even there it was only long glances, which could have been strictly initiated by you. Although you could have sworn he was already looking your way one or two times when you made eye contact. Here at the cabin you knew his drink, because of course you did. Was he teasing you earlier when he asked?

But he also winked at you. And he’s been calling you love, and made that comment about your ‘blowing skills’. But he does make dirty jokes a lot. You really would be a perfect couple though, all of your friends told you so whenever you talked about him, sometimes even when you didn’t talk about him. People wouldn’t say that to you just to be mean to you, I mean, these were your best friends. But he also essentially rejected your flirtatious advances. Why was this so hard to-

A ring clad hand was waving in front of your face causing you to blink several times before refocusing on the object of your delusional thoughts. Sirius had his ever present charming grin, a special glint in his hooded eyes, “Caught you daydreaming about me again, didn’t I, love?” Maybe it was the liquid courage, but the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Don’t be mean, Sirius.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “What do you-” Rather ungracefully, you cut him off, “Just because you know I have a crush on you doesn’t mean you can tease me like everyone else does. It’s honestly humiliating enough.” Sirius’s once smirking features changed to that of confusion, “It’s humiliating to have a crush on me?” You groaned in frustration, covering your face with your hands before looking down at your feet, “Yes, Sirius, it’s humiliating to have a raging crush on someone that clearly has no interest or feelings toward me beyond platonic friendship.”

The cool metal of his rings felt like ice against your flamed skin as he forced you to look at him, “Who said my feelings were strictly platonic?” You opened your mouth to respond before quickly closing it again. You sat up straighter then, Sirius’s hand dropping from your chin, “Well, you did, you said that. Back during the game, when Dorcus was teasing us and I asked if that’s what you wanted. You basically stumbled over a way to tell me you were uninterested in my advances.”

His melodic laugh filled your ears. You were ready to smack him for being so rude before he started giving you a viable response. “Sweetheart…I wasn’t trying to reject you,” you looked up to meet his eyes once more as he continued, “I responded that way because you had me flustered, you…kind of always make me feel that way.” He scratched the back of his head nervously, “I didn’t really know how to respond properly when Dorcus made that remark. And, erm, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by admitting I probably, erm, wouldn’t mind finding out how good your,” he gulped slightly, “abilities are.”

Your gaze fell to his lips before meeting his eyes once more; Sirius bit his lip, trying to hold back what you were sure was a shit-eating smirk. His hand cupped your cheek gently, “Can I?” You gave a small nod as you leaned in, Sirius closing the remaining distance before capturing your lips with his. This was not a fiery, passionate, kiss. But soft, gentle and sweet. His lips slotted against yours as though they were always meant to be there.

His fingers entangled slightly in your hair, pulling you closer to him. You braced yourself with a hand on his thigh. A small whimper drifted from Sirius’s throat at the extra physical contact, wanting to fuel you further. What felt like two small, solid objects pelted both you and Sirius, causing you both to pull away from each other in confusion. “Don’t partners usually only make out when they win a game, not when they lose?” Marlene teased lightly. You looked over at Lilly who gave you a wink. One thing was for sure, you were not going to doubt her again.

#jinxedjuly #jinxed july #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black #sirius black imagine #marauders au #marauders era #marauders x you

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spencereidluver · 10 months

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A is for About Time

july 07, 2008

summary: You’re paired up with Spencer on a mostly physiological case… He’s impressed with how many of his obscure references you understand and how you’re able to carry on conversations with him unlike anyone else.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: details of a case: strangulation, blood writing

“y/n and Reid, I need you to stay here at the station while the rest of us go search the area.” Hotch said, handing you and Spencer each a file. “There’s information about the case in here. The PD thinks we’re dealing with someone who is able to outsmart that of the normal man. We need both of your heads on this. Got it?”

You and Spencer both nodded. You were smart, no denying it, but you know he knows everything you know times two.

You’ve only been in the BAU six months, but you’d only need to know Spencer two minutes to know just how intelligent he is. You don’t quite understand why Hotch wants you to stay back on this case with him, but who are you to deny the man.

You and Spencer take the Manila folders and make your ways to the conference room. He does a little jog to catch up with you. “You know, I’ve never had anyone else stay back with me on cases like these.” He says as he slows his step to match yours.

“Yeah, we’ll maybe you’ve never had anyone quite on your level Dr. Reid.” you joke as you pull the glass door open. There’s a bulletin board with photos from the case. You see Spencer grimace at them out of your peripheral. No matter how many cases you go on, this is one thing that will never be easy for anyone in this job.

Spencer sprawls out his folder on the half-circle-shaped wooden table in the center of the small office. The first image is a photo from the crime scene. It’s a white brick wall with blood writing, it reads:

“in this moment, she was mine, mine, fair, perfectly pure and good”

“It’s a poem.” He says. “Porphyria’s Lover.”

You interrupt him, “a mid 1800’s poem written by Robert Browning.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“A poem in which a beautiful woman’s lover strangles her with her own hair? Yeah I’ve heard of it.”

He flips through a few more pages in the folder. They’re all just copies of what’s on the bulletin. You’re not too sure why you were each given folders containing the same pictures, but I guess consistency is key in this job.

“I never took you as an 1800s poem freak, y/n.” He says with a smile that you can’t quite tell the intention behind.

“Maybe you’re not as many levels ahead of me as you thought, Dr. Reid.”

_____

It’s only day two of the case, but between stupid jokes and bonding over old literature, there’s only one thing you cannot seem to pinpoint the reasoning for. And probably the only way you’ll be able to directly connect to the unsub.

He’s working off a dating app. He searches for women who meet his physical criteria, then stalks them until he’s able to pounce. Smart guy. Very smart guy.

“The one thing I just cannot understand is why if the poem he’s working off of is so keen on blonde hair, why have only half of our victims been blondes?” Spencer says, reading through a print-out of the original poem.

“Maybe the women with brown hair were just more available?” You say, not sure if you believe it.

Spencer takes a sip of his coffee. “No, a man like this would want blondes. He’s working of the exact motive of the poem.”

“And he must have a lot of time with his victims to be able to strangle them with their hair.”

You and Spencer spend hours reading over the poem and investigating that photos. Hotch comes back to the station to bring photos from yet another crime scene. Another blonde. If anything, that takes you further from figuring him out, messing up the blonde-brown-blonde-brown victim order.

“There’s no way he’s picking these victims at random. He’d have to spend far too long watching them to know their work schedule to be able to get into their apartments.” Hotch says. “I need you guys to further analyze the poem. It could have the key and hopefully we can find him before he strikes again.”

You and Spencer spend a further hour and a half looking over and annotating the poem. You’re both about to give up on the poem when you notice something: the rhyme scheme.

“A-B-A-B-B,” you think outloud.

“What?” Spencer is confused.

“The rhyme scheme, Spencer. It’s A-B-A-B-B. Auburn-Blonde-Auburn-Blonde-Blonde. That has to be it!”

“So he’ll go back to the beginning. He’s looking for his next victim with auburn hair, just like Julia Dempsey and Katie Flanagan. Nice catch, y/n. We’ve gotta call Hotch.”

He pulls out his phone and dials the eight digits quickly. He fills in Hotch on the info you find as you email over to Garcia. It’s only a matter of time before Morgan and Hotch move in on the man, Garcia finding him from a simple categorical search of dating profile preferences.

_____

You’re sat on the jet next to Spencer on your way home. You’re going on about old literature and artifacts pertaining to them. No one else understands a word either of you are saying, but they’re rather in awe of how the two of you are able to bounce off each other and carry on about, what to them, is utter nonsense.

It’s late. Early. Well, both. 2:47 AM. You’re leaned with your elbow on the table and your head in your hand looking at Spencer as he recites an old poem from memory. His voice is calm and warm. JJ and Emily are asleep in the booths next to you, Hotch minding his own in the back, and Rossi and Morgan make small talk a little closer to the front.

“y/n?” You hear your name being whispered.

You hum in response, opening your eyes to see a wide-eyed Spencer looking at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He says.

“It’s okay. I’m kinda glad you did, my neck would be sore when we land.”

“We’re still three hours from Virginia. Think you can make it that long?”

“Hell no, I’m exhausted.” You cross your arms on the table, laying your head in them as you try to get comfortable.

“That position may feel better on your neck, but it’ll do a number on your back in record time.”

“Well, Spencer, there’s only so much room to work with on this jet.”

“I can move so you can lay in the seat if you’d like. But that could also hurt your neck considering you’ll be lying flat and have no incline.”

“Well then why don’t you tell me the most comfortable position and let me sleep in peace.”

“Studies show the best position for sleeping without a pillow is leaning against a wall or something of an upright nature. But there are no walls to lean up against, so you’re pretty much out of luck there y/n.”

He shifts in his seat, reaching for the blanket behind him. He tosses it at you and settles back down. He sips from his coffee. No wonder he’s not going to sleep, he drinks coffee 15 out of the 24 hours in a day.

You scoot a bit closer to him, wrapping the blanket around yourself. You tip your head forward, groaning. Tiredness overcomes you more than it already has, making it near impossible to even keep your eyes open.

“Hey, Spence…” You look up at him. His head tilts down to meet your gaze, flattening his lips in form of a response. “Can I…” You let your sentence fade out, pushing yourself closer to him.

He softens his voice. “Hmm?”

Before he can even finish his hum your head has slumped on his shoulder and you’re already falling unconscious on him. You feel him reach his arm around you- pulling the blanket up- you assume. He does that, but his arm never leaves. His head flops gently on top of yours, his one unruly waft of hair falling over his face. You could stay like this forever.

“It’s about time those two realize how similar they are.” You hear Rossi’s gravely voice say.

And just like that, you’re asleep, in what is probably the most comfortable you’ve ever been in your life.

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next chapter: b is for Boy Genius

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

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a/n: hiii! i really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! chapter 2 will be released tomorrow! sorry if this one was a little boring, i promise the next chapter is more interesting. i'm just trying to set up the story a little before we get into it!

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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencereidluver #spencer reid a-z

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somewhereincairparavel · 6 months

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Alright. I came across someone saying that Rick "put Jason in a pedestal" and "overhyped" him by emphasizing how good looking he is and that Jason shouldn't have been so attractive looking. (Tbf tho that person made it sound like they seemed more mad bc their least favourite character was considered good looking lol) but I'll yap about the significance here anyways. Beware of a very long yapping session below.

I do understand their frustration though, because jason getting told that he looks good all the time makes it seem very shallow and unfair to the others.

And let me tell you, Jason is SUPPOSED to be gorgeous looking in everyone's eyes. He is supposed to be conventionally handsome, Rick didn't intend for his looks to be "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " or something like Percy's (like how Piper didn't find him as impressive) Percy's is supposed to be more authentic. Percy's character isnt centred in people idolizing him, everyone can acknowledge that he's handsome looking, but it isn't in a "perfect" type of way, he's a carefree spirit and that reflects on his looks. While Jason is hardwired as this ethereal looking hero in people's eyes that not even ONE can deny that he looks good, bc ppl in Rome had set him as the "standard". Jason said this before in the lost hero, that him being a son of Jupiter, makes him feel like the support he gets is only because his dad is a very regal and intimidating figure.

That's kind of the whole point, he's supposed to look like this perfect man who can do no wrong. His "Golden noble boy" arc is literally the whole concept of his character. Why else do you think rick wrote Aphrodite approving of Jason's looks saying that he needed no improvement (which she rarely does) ?

Because Jason is supposed to be put like a statue to admire and idolize, that's ALSO why rick made sure to add that Jason looks like a Roman sculpture, bc that's like a metaphor for his inner conflicts. The guy was put like an artifact for people to ogle at in camp Jupiter ever since he was a kid of 4. That's part of the tragedy.

Annabeth said it perfectly “Annabeth tried to hide it, but she still didn’t completely trust the guy. He acted too perfect - always following the rules, always doing the honorable thing. He even looked too perfect. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging thought. What if this is a trick and he betrayed us?” Mark of Athena, page 6.

His mother, whom he's supposed to look like, is also a literal world wide tv actress. So you can't expect anything less either.

Also, Jason is supposed to mirror Percy. And let's be real. Rick put Percy in a VERY high pedestal looks wise, aswell, Not just Jason. And that's okay.

Rick made Hazel mistake Percy for a literal god because he was just that good looking (tbf, in a way, when I was younger, I found this to be a little bit of an exaggeration, bro was covered in mud and seaweed and was compared to a god, it was rlly funny to a 10 year old me 😭 yeah but don't mind this though, this was just a younger me jealous that I couldn't be as pretty as Percy was in mud lol) If Percy can be "hyped" up so "unrealistically" in that particular situation then so can Jason. They are both literal half gods, so unrealistic praise is very normal) and rick also made sure to emphasize that almost all the teen characters had a crush on Percy. So apparently that isn't called putting a character in a pedestal but Jason's is? They are BOTH put in pedestals, because they're both heroes.

Jason and Percy are supposed to be equals, so both of them being in the top two when it comes to looks makes SENSE. Because people are supposed to argue about who is better looking, since they're written as foils.

You cannot expect rick to make Percy look like a god and Jason look like a rat 😭 then there's no point of having them as parallels if one has the upper hand in something. Rick did a good job by conveying that they are BOTH attractive, but in different ways. That's why the Percy/Jason looks debate always have mixed answers.

Jason getting complimented by Aphrodite, the GODDESS of beauty, for his looks and her saying that he didn't have anything to "fix" in his face BC it already looks gorgeous = Percy getting compared to a gorgeous Roman god by hazel. They are both equal comparisons in slightly different tones.

#why do y'all beef at Jason for being hot like bro it's not that serious. Let him be as hot as he wants pls #why do you want him to look “ordinary” so bad like it would strip off the significance #😭 put your personal bias against jason away from this discussion.#Percy doesn't need to be the only attractive looking guy in pjo #pjo series #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo hoo #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #hoo

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kiddiesmores · 1 month

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“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢”: 𝟖𝟔 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Schlatt cannot stop flirting with eachother, but will it go anywhere?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Drinkin, Cussin

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: LORDDD chapter two is finally with us 😭🙏🏽 sorry guys I was in such a slump, please forgive me! I will not leave you guys high and dry again! Enjoy!! Love you!!

Your first few weeks at Chops went as smoothly as they could. Following Schlatts advice to not let anyone walk over you definitely helped and you’ve even got yourself a couple of regulars because of it.

However, even though money is good, it doesn’t stop the lingering tension between you and him. You pray nobody can pick up on it, and luckily no one has (besides charlie), but it’s agonizing to say the least.

The small brushes against your back whenever he’d scoot past you, the sweet, “You look nice today,” he would tell you every time you came in. Don’t even START with the free food he hands out.

Somehow he always has an excuse. “They fucked this one up, take it.” or “Come try this, it’s going on our seasonal menu next month.” Who were you to deny him?

It didn’t stop at work either. Charlie, the little shit he is, pesters you outside of work about him constantly.

The two of you decided to go out to eat after work one night, catching up on each other's lives as if you don’t see each other daily. He wasted no time bringing up Schlatt.

“Oh he definitely likes you,” He starts, his words muffled due to the handful of fries he has stuffed in his mouth. His lips formed a small pout, “He doesn’t give me free food.”

You laugh to yourself, waving your hand to dismiss him. “I don’t mind a free meal or two…or seven. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he likes me— I mean, aren’t you guys close?” Your voice lowers, taking sudden interest in stirring your drink around to avoid eye contact, “Does he like…talk about me to you or anything”

Charlie smiles, shaking his head at your bashfulness. “Not explicitly no, but whenever I see him making food with no tickets in the window, I try to steal some right? And then BAM! HE hits me! Literally hits me!”

A scowl paints his face as his voice deepens mockingly, “ ‘It’s not for you, don’t touch my shit’ like okay ASSHOLE! And then I see him offer it to you, so obviously there’s some connection there!”

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes at his Schlatt impression, stealing a fry from his plate. “Well he’s definitely helped me save on groceries, I haven’t paid for a meal in a month” you joke.

Your knee bounces nervously as you think of all the times Schlatt has spoiled you with meals and sweet words. But your mind can’t help and only comes up with the worst possible scenarios.

Say you actually do get together, what happens if you get into a fight and have to go to work together? Would he fuck up your food? Fire you? Oh god, would he fire you? Is that even allowed? What if-

“You’re thinking too hard about this.” Charlie interrupts, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes dart back up to meet him as he looks at you with gentle eyes. “No! No, I’m fine. I’m chill..” you mumble, but you aren’t fooling anyone, not even yourself. “I just wanna be sure I know what I’m getting into..”

Charlie smiled kindly, reaching across the table to put a hand on your shoulder. “Look Y/N, I’m coming to you as friends of you both and telling you that you have a chance. Don’t get in your own head. Nothing bad will happen to you, even if things do go south. But I know they won’t so that’s out of the question! Trust me, okay?”

You give him a thankful smile and nod, “Thanks Charlie…I’ll let you have half of whatever he makes me next time if you’re right”

“YIPPIE!!”

🫐🫐🫐

The next night at work was peaceful. The restaurant was pretty dead towards closing, only a few people sitting at the bar and maybe one or two tables of two in your coworkers sections. Rosie sat in the office doing paperwork, all the other servers chilling at the bar area talking amongst themselves as they had been cut for the night.

You were adjusting your tips into the system, too in your own head to hear the side door open. A pair of hands wrapped around your waist, shaking you from your trance. Looking down frantically, you recognize them almost immediately, “Oh- hi Schlatt. Didn’t know you were coming in today.” you breathe, placing a hand on your heart to try and ease your heart .

Your voice is low, giving him a gentle squeeze on his hands as you look up at him with a sincere smile. He stares down at you, a tired gruff expression painting his face, he seems exhausted. He hums, leaning down grazing your ear with his lips, a small gasp escaping you as his breath tickles it.

“Wanna go make out in the back?” He whispers, his voice low. His thumb strokes your stomach, eyes trailing your face awaiting your answer. You’ve never turned your head so fast. “Wait- huh?” You question, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“Do you. Want to. Makeout. In the back.”

He articulates every word, expression serious. You’re blown away at his bluntness, mouth floundering as you try to form a coherent response. But he looks so cute, cheeks red and eyes tired, meeting your crazed stare.

You wanted him terribly.

But you can also smell the whiskey on his breath, he’s been drinking.

“Maybe when you’re more sober.” you tease, patting him on the arm, pulling yourself together with a teasing smile.

He pouts, making your heart melt. “I’m 250 pounds, it takes a lot more to get me drunk.” He argues, making you roll your eyes. You turn to face him fully, arms crossing over your chest as your nerves ease just a little when you see him slightly rock on his feet.

He’s just as nervous as you are. Or drunk, maybe both.

“I’ll tell you what, ask me again tomorrow and maybe I’ll follow you up on that offer.” You suggest, holding onto one of his hands.

A loud groan escapes him as he begins to lean against you, his head resting on top of yours as he pulls you into a hug. “But I wanna kiss you now…” he complains, making you scoff. Your hand rubs his back, “How did you even get here if you’ve been drinking?” you ask, trying to dodge his statement.

He pulls back, turning and gesturing to nothing, “Charlie. We went for drinks at a friend's bar down the road and wanted something free to eat so we came here. Waitin on our ride now, his girlfriend I think I dunno.” He grumbles.

‘Charlie’ You think to yourself, you’re gonna beat his ass when you see him. Which might be soon since you hear your coworkers and him laughing at the bar.

Schlatt looks down, head tilting to the side while he brings his hand to your cheek to pinch, “And I wanted to sneak a look at you.”

You huff and shove him away playfully. “Oh shut up!” you grumble, forcing your attention back on the screen so he can’t see your smiling face.

He chuckles, hands back around your waist while his chin rests atop your head. You can’t help but melt into him, bodies swaying a bit as he tries to stand still.

“I mean it,” he starts, staring at the screen with you while you finish adjusting tips. “I’ll remember in the morning and ask you again. Will you say yes then?”

If your pupils could form hearts they would have.

“I will.” you whisper, looking up at him, almost deciding to throw out all your morals and makeout with him right there. A wicked smile paints his lips, “Heard.” He mutters, giving your waist a small squeeze before stepping back.

You almost whine at the loss of his warmth, watching him gather his things before leaving. He waves a bye to you on the way out, a giggling Charlie following behind him with big thumbs up causing you to scowl playfully.

You fiddle with the strings on your apron, an excited squeal leaving your lips as you smile goofily to yourself.

Rosie steps out of the office to look for the commotion, peeping her head around the corner and seeing you giggling to yourself.

“You’re still here? Hurry up and go, our labor is high as shit!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m gone!!”

🫐🫐🫐

“BROOKE!! BROOKE WAKE UP I NEED TO GET TO WORK PLEAAASEE!!”

You hear a mix of voices and a crashing noise before her door swings open. A dazed Charlie in a crop top and his boxers greets you while your face grimaces. “You are not Brooke.” You joke, face still disgusted. He scoffs, leaning on the doorway, “She’s in the bathroom, said she’ll be out soon. Whatcha need to go in so early for, you’re good for another hour. I know, I made the schedule.” He smirks, arms crossed. You cross yours back, “I open actually smart ass, what are you doing here anyway? Weren’t you with Schlatt last night?”

He laughs, flipping his hair, “My girlfriend— who loves me very much— picked us up last night. Thank you. Oh but you wouldn’t know anything about being in a relationship would you?” He taunts making you scoff.

“Bitch-“

“Okay I’m ready, let's go! Bye baby, see you in a bit” Brooke interrupts, kissing Charlie on the cheek and taking your hand while a cheesing Charlie tauntingly waves bye to you while you glare at him.

🫐🫐🫐

“AND THEN, HE WAS LIKE ‘OH LET'S GO MAKE OUT IN THE BACK’ LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAAAAN.” You gripe, flailing about in the passenger seat with your head shoved in your hands. The car is silent for a bit, making you peek at her through your fingers where you’re met with a blank stare, “It most likely means he wants to make out with you.”

“NOOOOOO!”

You bitch and moan the entire car ride, Brooke's grip on the steering wheel getting tighter and tighter as you repeatedly ignore the obvious attraction from the man.

She pulls into the Chops parking lot, parking at the very back while you continue to rant about how nervous you were. Her eyes look ahead, squinting as she sees Schlatt standing by the to-go door holding a cigarette while you slumped against the passenger window, head in your hands completely oblivious to the man. The two make eye contact, acknowledging each other with a nod of the head.

And a lightbulb goes off in Brooke’s head, hand quickly signaling and mouthing for him to come closer to the car. He stares back confused, slowly walking over as she directs him to the passenger side.

“I’m just so scared, I don’t know what to do.” You pout, looking at Brooke still oblivious to Schlatt.

“Well he’s coming over right now so you better figure out something quick.” Brooke points, making you turn to face the front but not seeing anyone there.

“Wha-“

There’s a tap on the window, making you turn to face him.

And you scream. Loud. Cowering back with your hands back over your face.

He flinches, muttering a ‘What the fuck’ and cackling while signaling to Brooke to roll down the window, which she does. He reaches a hand through to poke at your arm, slowly uncovering your face while you stare back with a nervous smile. “Hi..” you mumble, making him chuckle. “How you doin?” He teases with a sly smile.

He opens the car door, “C'mon I’ll walk you in.” He insists, grabbing your bag from the floor board. You turn to Brooke and all she offers is two thumbs up making you whine. You step out, slamming the door and rushing to walk next to Schlatt.

“Have a good shift you two~” Brooke teases as she drives past, making you flip her off while Schlatt shakes his head. He opens the door for you, dropping your bag off in its designated spot as you start your opening duties.

“So how you doin?” He asks again, making you turn your head. You laugh, “You already asked me that.”

“Well you never answered..” he jokes, crossing his arms with a sly smile. You shake your head, “I’m fine, how are you? Your head okay?”

He shrugs, “M’fine, Charlie was worse.” You roll your eyes, “Yeah he was at my apartment this morning, answered Brooke’s door with a crop top on, don’t even know where he got that!”

Yall laugh, the banter continuing as you finish all the opening duties before the others show up. He leans against the expo line, gazing at your figure from the back.

“So…you still thinking about that offer?” He asks lowly, he watches your arms tense, your voice lowering with a teasing tone, “It’s only 10am..” you joke, looking at him over your shoulder. He chuckles, crossing his arms, “Yeah, and?”

You smile, turning to face him, mimicking his body language. “Maybe, you gonna get drunk again before I give you an answer?”

He scoffs and turns his head, making you giggle. He pushes off the counter, heading to the kitchen as your coworkers start making their way in. “Have a good shift.” he mutters, “You too!”

🫐🫐🫐

Apparently the day wanted you to go to hell. The hosts triple sat you, people called out left and right meaning your break was cut short as nobody could handle the amount of people coming in today, everything sucked. Not to mention the Sunday crowd was stingy with their tips as always, if they even tipped at all. Why the fuck do old people even still come out to eat?

Now you’re trapped with a 20 top, who need accommodations for every fucking thing but decided to come in 30 minutes before close. Just your fucking luck.

Not gonna lie you were handling it well, to your table at least. In the back you were irritated, constantly refilling drinks and beefing with the ice as it gets lower and with Cooper when he pushes out another dessert for you to run.

You felt terrible for the cooks who have to stay longer due to your table's terrible time management, making a mental note to buy them a drink next shift.

Schlatt especially, but in all honesty you really couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now. His face seemed focused but irritated, you couldn’t see what he was doing, but he seemed really into it.

Your table was finally content, laughing with no cares in the world as if it’s not 30 minutes past closing and they were still inside, so you took the opportunity to put the rest of your tips in.

“5…3…5…6…wow lucky 10..” you mumble to yourself looking at the receipts until—

BANG

You flinch at the harsh noise, looking down to see what caused the commotion. It was a plate with a brownie sundae on it, and you looked up to see who left it there and it was no other than Schlatt, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Wh-“

“I have a dessert for you.”

“But-“

“I’m going out back, find me if they need something else”

He walks off quickly, another commotion following, the sounds of pots hitting the ground.

“WHO FUCKING LEFT THIS HERE? FUCK!” He shouts, making you laugh quietly to yourself as a clearly stoned Cooper comes from the kitchen coughing and walking up to the fountain for a cup of water.

“I don’t know why he gave me this, you already gave me all my desserts?” You question, pointing at the sundae while looking at Cooper. He laughs, shaking his head, “I think it’s for you man.”

Your nose scrunches, “But why-“ “I dunno, I’m gonna go smoke again though.”

Annnnd he’s gone. You shrug, pulling the dessert over to you and looking down.

You gasp, realization washing over you as you finally take in the dish. In chocolate syrup, written around the edges of the plate were:

“Wanna Go On A Date?”

The words were shoved awfully close as the plate was not fit to hold a dessert and a declaration of affection, but you understood nonetheless. You smile to yourself, giddily eating the dessert (after taking a picture of course).

Once you finish, you come up with your own plan of getting back at him. You see him turning the corner while he comes back in from smoking, “Schlatt!” You call, making him stop, turning to walk towards you.

“What is it?” he asks, nervously picking at his hand with his fingers. But you smile nonetheless, handing the plate back to him. “Can you take this to the dish pit for me? I think that table is finally ready to check out.”

You try to ignore his face drooping slightly before he grunts out a ‘yeah’ and takes the dish from your hand and turns on his heel to head back. You shake your head, printing out your table's receipt and walking over to check them out, beaming.

Schlatt however was not happy, his brain was doing loops trying to see if the signals you were sending meant nothing the whole time. He drops the plate in the dish pit with a huff, eyes squinting as he sees the mess on the plate he gave you.

There written in the leftover sauce was a “Yes”.

Now it’s his turn to start beaming, eyes lighting up while his heart starts to race. He laughs to himself, shaking his head as he turns the corner just to be halted by a mass bumping into him, you.

You step back, about to apologize until you realize it’s him, “Oh! Hey..” you smile, waving the merchant copy of your receipt, “$60 tip!”

He whistles, taking it from you, “Very nice, it’s the least they could do after keeping us all here an hour later.”

You nod, taking it back and putting it in your book, “Should’ve been more, honestly..” you mumble, making him bark out a laugh. He follows you over to the POS system, leaning next to you as you finish closing out tabs and adjusting totals. He watches as you pout, hand rubbing over your stomach as it growls, “Hungry?” He questions, laughing at you while you hush your stomach.

“A little, haven’t really found time to eat today..” you sulk, printing the checkout and stapling your receipts together. He takes them, watching you put your tote bag over your shoulder, “Woah woah- slow down, let me make you something before you go!”

You frown, adjusting the tote bag, “The kitchen is beyond closed, I can just hit up the gas station or something-“

He pulls you in by the waist, big hands tightly holding your hips against his as he speaks.

“Let me tell you somethin.” he starts, pulling you closer making you giggle. “Tell me somethin.” you mock, mimicking his accent, “Yeah let me tell you somethin.” he repeats, getting closer to your face.

“Who owns the restaurant?”

“You do-“ “I do, that’s right, see you’re keeping up!” He interrupts. You roll your eyes, about to argue but he cuts you off again. “Let me worry about the numbers, and the inventory, and the time. That's my job. Your job right now—“ he points to your stomach, “—Is telling me what the fuck you want to eat. So tell me, what. do. you. want. me. to. make.”

Your body tilts back as you let out a dramatic sigh , causing him to laugh and catch you with his free hand.

“I want a filet.”

“What size.”

“8 ounces. Medium well.”

“No, you always get medium well, do medium.”

“Fine! Medium.”

“What sides.”

“I want a baked potato. Loaded.”

“And?”

“…Applesauce”

“You’re fucking with me”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “What’s wrong with applesauce? This is MY meal”

“You’re getting broccoli.”

Your face changes from annoyance to disgust. “I don’t fuckin want that!” “Oh no!” he mocks, holding you tighter in his grip, “Don’t care! I’ll grill it, it’ll taste better.”

You huff, “Fine!”

He laughs at your pouting face, cooing as he leans down to press a swift kiss on your cheek. “Aww, i’m just messin’ baby, you can have some fucking applesauce.I don’t give a shit.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as he kisses your chest,, his thumb rubbing your hip while you look away bashfully.

“But I'm still gonna give you some broccoli, if you don’t eat it you're paying for everything.”

“WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK!”

🫐🫐🫐

You wait patiently in the dining room, bouncing your knee and scrolling through your phone to distract yourself. Your hand ghosts your cheek, thumb tickling the spot he kissed, having to hold back your giggle as you replayed it in your head. It felt nice to finally admit you both had the hots for each other, the last month of sly touches and casual flirting finally feeling like it was worth it.

A text pops up on the top of your screen, it was Brooke asking if she needed to come pick you up. As your fingers hovered over the keys, Schlatt turned the corner, setting down a to go box on the table.

You offer a sweet smile, muttering a thank you before typing out a quick, “No I’m okay, I have a plan.”

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader smut #jschlatt x you #86 mahi mahi!#jschlatt imagine #jschlatt smut

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Text

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

��It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

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lunaxstrange · 2 months

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Can we talk about love in orv?

[SPOILERS]

Okay so, I am aware that Kdj loves the "story" but I really wanna point some things out individually because it's 2am and ORV is on my mind.

Kdj had the easiest way out of the 1863rd turn. The most perfect turn (at the time) but he really went I'd let the world burn for Yjh? Yeah, everything is "part of his plan" but let's talk about the 73rd Demon King arc. My man would do anything to make sure Yjh finishes his story. Apart from this, it's the fact that while everyone else dislike any other version of Yjh (even he hates himself lol), Kdj loves every. single. one. I mean 3rd turn (1864th) Yjh? Yes. Hsy's 1863rd turn? Yes. Frickin' Secretive Plotter? Got off to a rough start but yes. You simply cannot make Kdj hate his beloved protagonist. I mean, this man risked his whole existence to make sure the 0th turn is actually the most perfect one. He didn't want Yjh to regress but became his sponsor anyway because it's what Yjh wanted. He would do anything to see Yjh happy. This type of love isn't romantic or platonic or anything else, it's the most inexplicable form of love. Love in its purest form. I'd like to take the time to compare it to Achilles and Patroclus because while we can fight over whether these two were gay or not, we cannot deny the sheer love they had for each other. No strings attached. Kdj is in awe of Yjh.

Yjh. The regressor. The protagonist. The person Kdj loves the most. Yjh had everything (0th turn) but he really gave it all up just to meet Kdj. Suffered the "Hell of eternity" just to see him. Bro didn't even love Lsw the way he loves Kdj. Tbf, 0th turn Yjh didn't know what the real struggle of passing the scenarios without help was but I'm sure he got the gist. Okay, sure, you can call it "curiosity" that led to Yjh keeping Kdj alive during the 3rd (1864th) turn. But my guy didn't choose Kdj to go to Peace Land because he had "someone he loved" like bro, YJH!? THE COLD REGRESSOR??? HE DID THAT FOR KIM DOKJA! Not to mention the fact that Yjh didn't even care that his whole life was a mere novel. He just despised the fact that Kdj chose the 1863rd turn over him. I'm gonna cry. Bro wanted Kdj so bad that he kept fighting the Secretive Plotter. Not only this, he gave up the 3rd (1864th) turn for Kdj too. Went from Supreme King to terrorist just to save Kdj. When everyone else - even Hsy - gave up. After all, what is a protagonist without a reader? The whole astronaut ordeal might've been to "find his purpose" but we can't ignore their connection. He gave up everything he could ever ask for twice (0th and 3rd/1864th turn) for Kdj. The attachment these two have with each other is insane.

I could go on about them for eternity but we have another person to talk about - Hsy. This woman spent 10 years exhausted, stuck in a world-line and body not her own for one person. Even if it's only Hsy with half her memories, she gave up her perfect world-line because she missed Kdj. Just like Kdj loves Yjh, Hsy also loves every version of Kdj. She wanted to meet him, no matter what the world-line. My girl had only a few hours where she was in control and decided to use off all those hours to write TWSA - a story she herself disliked. Hsy wants to see Kdj happy, every part of Hsy loves Kdj. There is nothing a writer could love more than an avid reader who loves their story. And let's talk about the fact that Yjh and Hsy absolutely hate each other. He is literally her creation (more or less) but their relationship is questionable. Why? Because a protagonist has no value without a reader. Kinda like Asuka Ren and Kyrgios Rodgraim. They have no special relationship despite being creator and creation. Since there is no reader, Asuka and Kyrgios are as distant as two people can be. Alternatively, what brings Hsy and Yjh together is Kdj.

I just can't get enough of the way ORV relationships are written. If I had to describe love as a writer, I'd cite ORV as an example.

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #orv spoilers #omniscient reader webtoon #omniscient reader novel #omniscient reader #han sooyoung #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #orv kdj #kdj x yjh #kdj #orv hsy #hsy #yjh #orv yjh #orv meta

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seresinhangmanjake · 10 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it.

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions.

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery.

“So I was thinking,” he says.

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals.

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached.

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so.

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises.

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin.

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both.

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats.

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake.

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks.

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed.

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy.

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs.

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks.

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines.

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe.

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head.

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination.

Your eyes snap up.

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake.

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin angst

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hyunniesgirl · 10 months

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Can you make a one shot smut where like reader and Chan like REALLY hate each other, like CANNOT stand each other but like while reader is out partying she like sees Chan so for shits and giggles she goes up to him and flirts with him which ends up w Chan subbing and begging to cum. I’d like to be 🪼 anon pls :3 and ty if you do this !! 🙏🏼

I love the hate concept (I'm literally obsessed with hate sex), thank you for the ask ❣️ I hope you like it, I'm not really good with smut but I'm trying to get better!!

Something bad

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Words count: 2,006

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: switch!Chan, switch!reader, hate relationship, handjob

You hate his guts. Bang Chan thinks he's all that, but in your opinion he's actually an asshole. You have known each other for so long you're not sure if you always hated him, but if not, you don't know when it started.

He's your brother's best friend, so he is always around, teasing you, making jokes about your hair in the morning or even bringing his hookups late at night, banging them in his room so loudly as if he wants you to hear how good he's making them feel.

You listen to everything from the guest room you sleep in when visiting and the smug look on his face when he sees your eyebags the next morning make you even more mad.

He's not much different from you, Chan likes to see your reactions, how red you get when you're angry about the simplest things he does to tease you or even how you avoid his eyes when you find him at the front door in the morning, saying goodbye to the people he fucked.

He'll look at you waiting for a complaint about the noise but you just look everywhere but his face. He loves that, love that your feisty attitude dies down after hearing him going on all night long. You're back to your usual self by lunch time, that's why he keeps bringing people every night when you visit, he wants to make you angry.

You're currently looking for an apartment, you just got out of uni and got a nice job, so you're staying with your brother just until you can sign the lease of the apartment you're renting with your two best friends.

They invited you to go out tonight, have some fun, maybe fuck a hot random stranger or just pass out drunk anywhere but your brother's house. Literally anything is a better option than another sleepless night of Chan fucking someone senseless and making you horny.

You would never, ever, admit this out loud, but the way you can hear him groaning sometimes when you get close to his room, just messes with your head. He IS an attractive man, even though you hate him, you cannot deny he is hot. Beautiful dark wavy hair, nice broad shoulders and that physic is just… you just know he could break you in half if he wanted to.

You shake your head, why are you having these strange thoughts again? He's your brother's best friend and the guy that makes your life a living hell every time you're in his house. Is it because he's here? Out of all places, why did he and his friends decide to come to the same party as you and your friends did?

“Should we go home?” You sigh, making your friends glare at you.

“Not even a chance”, Sana says, making you sigh. “Should we play a game? Maybe that will get you to relax”

She exchanges a glance with Yeji, smirking. You're already kinda dizzy from your previous drink, so you're not sure you understand what that look means. But you nod, drinking games are your thing, you love them all.

It was all premeditated, you're sure your friends knew Chan would be there with his crew, they are acquainted, after all. You know it was all planned when Yeji giggled, saying “I dare you to flirt with Chan”. Sana laughed so hard at your face after hearing that, saying “we are talking about a hard flirting, literally get a hard on out of him”

That's how you ended up walking in his direction now, feeling your face warm, at least the alcohol makes you feel more secure about yourself. You're looking hot today, wearing a tight short black dress with a neckline lower than how you usually wear, exposing a good piece of your skin and breast. You're sure you can pull Chan.

He stares at you up and down when you show up in front of him, you look smoking hot. He knows you're attractive, it's such a shame you're so annoying.

You greet his friends, you know all of them since they come buy a lot to your brother's and Chan apartment.

“Can I have a sip?” You ask Chan, sitting by his side at the booth. His friends look at each other, saying something you can't hear because of the loud music and then going to the dance floor.

“What do you want?” He ignores your question, scowling when you do the same to him, grabbing his drink and tasting it.

“Woah, this is bitter just like you”, you smile seeing him rolling his eyes.

“Are you drunk? Should I call your brother?” He asks, sighing.

“No, Channie”, you pout, calling the nickname you've heard so many people scream when they were fucking, “let's have some fun, hm? What do you think?”

You turn your body to stare at him, putting your hand on his chest, snuggling closer to him. He smells nice and the warmth his body emits makes you want to get even closer.

“What game are you playing?” He asks with a smug smile on his lips, brows lifted in question.

You sigh.

“It's truth or dare”, you tell, rolling your eyes. “Can't you just get hard already so I can be done?”

Chan chuckles, throwing his head back in a loud laugh, you know it's loud because you can hear it even with the loud music playing in the background.

“Do you really think you have what it takes to get me hard, little girl?” He asks playfully, making you scowl.

“Of course I do”, you tell him, crossing your arms.

You can't help but notice the look he sneaks at your breasts almost popping out of your dress. You decide to use that, in your favor.

“Do you wanna touch it, Channie?” You ask, touching your chest with your hands and squeezing your breasts up so he can have a better view.

“If I do get hard”, he clears his throat, “you should think about the consequences of what is going to happen after that”

“I will win the dare and go back to my friends”, you shrug.

Chan smiles, diabolically. Clicking his tongue.

“I don't think so”, he turns to you, sliding his hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh while he gets closer to your face. “If you do manage to get me hard, I'll take you home and you're going to take care of it. So you better think carefully about your next move”

You feel goosebumps all over your body, it's because you're grossed out, right? You would never feel turned on with Chan speaking so closely to you, his hot breath hitting your skin has nothing to do with the warmth growing in your lower stomach.

“You know what I think, Channie?”, you try to take back control over the situation, “you're afraid your best friend's little sister is going to make you so horny you won't be able to do anything other than beg to cum”, you slide your hand to the hem of his shirt, sliding it under the fabric and brushing your nails on his stomach, close enough to his cock to provoke a reaction out of him.

Chan breaths through his teeth, trying to control himself. He tried being confident, saying those things to you so you'd get scared and go back to your friends. He didn't think you would keep going and now he's not so sure about what he said, since you clearly are managing to get him hard.

He slides his hand under your dress, feeling how wet your underwear is and decides to use that in his favor.

“Are you sure you want to keep this up?” He asks, brushing his fingers over your covered cunt. You don't avoid his gaze, staring at him intensely, you're not going to give in. He smirks, well, if he can't escape this, he better have some fun. “Let’s see who's gonna be the one begging”

You're not sure how the hell you got there, in a moment Chan was whispering something to you and the next he was dragging you to the bathroom, throwing you against the wall. His lips are attached to your neck, sucking so hard you're sure it's gonna leave marks. Your body is pressed against his and you feel his hard cock on your stomach, now that you manage to get him hard it's time to stop it, so why is the only sound that comes out of your mouth muffled moans?

He slides his hands under your skirt, moving your underwear to the side while he presses a finger on your clit.

You have to do something, you need to take control. Your hand touches his covered cock and Chan groans, resting his head on the wall. He hates the idea of leaning on you.

You work fast, unbuttoning his pants and sliding your hand under his underwear, grabbing his cock in a fist, going up and down, feeling his cock twitching in your hand.

Chan was too cocky, he shouldn't have let you do this. Your touch is just too good, he can't help but moan subtly with every stroke you give to his dick.

He's growing restless, even though he's working with his fingers on you he knows it's a lost case. Your hand is soft, massaging his cock gently but firmly and the look in your eyes, like you're watching your prey, the way you have your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, enjoying seeing him panting while you play with him, it's just too much for him. He feels his orgasm getting closer, you can tell by the way his cock is twitching so you slow the speed of your hand, earning a frustrated groan from him.

“Do you like it, Channie?” You ask playfully, watching his voice crack when he tries to speak.

“Stop teasing, you fucking brat”, he grunts.

“That's not what I want to hear, baby”, you say as your index finger twirls over the head of his cock. “Do you wanna cum?”

He nods, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow, he can't believe he's humiliating himself like that.

“Tell me”, you smirk, “tell me what you want, be a good boy for me, yeah?”

You're feeling extra confident now, seeing him whimper when you get back to jerking him off.

“L-Let me cum”, he whispers too low, you're not even sure if you heard him.

“You can do better, Channie”, you tell him, fastening your movements.

“Please”, he whimpers, “let me cum”, he throws his head back, he doesn't want to give in so easily but your hand around him is just divine, he wants to cum so badly he doesn't mind begging at that moment.

“More”, you tell him simply, “beg more”

“Please, I just-” he whimpers.

“Are you going to stop being so mean to me?” You ask, trying to get something out of this, since you have him so vulnerable right now.

He nods frantically, needing his release more than anything. You keep jerking him off faster, while watching him moan, your hand going up and down on his cock.

His cum springs all over your hands, while he groans with faltering movements, trying to calm down from his high. You're almost sure you heard him sob, but if that really happened, he hid it really well.

After cleaning up the mess he made on your hand, you look at him with a pretentious victorious smile.

“I guess I won”, you cross your arms in front of your chest and Chan sighs, not able to look you in the eyes. Acting exactly like you do when you find him and his last fuck in the living room of his apartment.

“Let's just pretend this never happened”, he tells you, turning around and going out of the bathroom.

But you're not so sure if you'll be able to leave him alone now that you tasted this side of him.

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herstoryheaven · 1 month

Text

Descendants James Hook x Reader: A Love So Sweet

Request: Can you write a Hook x fem at Castle Coming? Maybe leading up the Flamingo incident happened and because James and the reader are so in love and they trust her the reader is able to convince Uliana and the others that it was honestly a mistake and that Bridget truly was sorry so they decide not to do the prank, Bridget personally apologizes but definitely a lot of cuteness between Hook and reader. Maybe also add in reader, Maleficent and Uliana getting ready for Castle Coming together and them giving her a pep talk and maybe the guys giving hook a pep talk as well? I apologize if it’s a lot

Reader: Female

Word count: 5286

Average reading time: 19 min 15 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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The day at Merlin Academy started off with a familiar energy, one of mischief, love, and the constant drama that came with being students in a school filled with magic. As usual, you found yourself wrapped up in the latest spectacle: Bridget’s flamingo cupcakes.

You were by her side, helping to arrange the treats, when James Hook casually walked up, that signature smirk of his dancing on his lips.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite lass.” he said, leaning against the table with an easy confidence. “What are you up to, darling?”

You rolled your eyes, used to his flirtatious ways by now. “Just helping Bridget with her cupcakes, James. Trying to keep things from getting too... out of hand.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Out of hand? In this school? Never.” He gave you a wink, which made your heart flutter despite yourself.

Bridget laughed softly, her hands busy arranging the last of the pink feathers on the cupcakes. “These are supposed to add a little magic, a touch of color to whoever eats one. Nothing too wild.”

“Well, that sounds rather dull.” James teased, picking up a cupcake and eyeing it with mock disappointment. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You nudged him playfully. “Not everything has to be dangerous, James. Sometimes a little bit of charm goes a long way.”

He chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “You, Y/n, are all the charm anyone needs.”

Before you could respond, whether with a laugh or another eye roll, Uliana appeared, her eyes fixed on the pink cupcakes with an almost predatory gleam. You watched as she ignored Bridget’s protests and grabbed every single feather-topped cupcake, stuffing the feathers into her mouth.

“Uliana, wait!” Bridget cried out, trying to stop her. “That’s way too many feathers! It could—”

But it was already too late. It didn't take long for Uliana to transform into a half flamingo half human. Her skin a bright, almost neon pink, and feathers sprouted in patches from her arms and back.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, but James had no such restraint. He burst out laughing, doubling over as Uliana flapped her feathered arms in rage.

“This is your fault!” she squawked at Bridget, who looked horrified but tried to stay calm.

“Uliana, I told you! The spell wasn’t meant for that many feathers! You weren’t supposed to—”

“I’ll make you pay for this!” Uliana spat, her voice warping slightly from her new beak-like mouth. She stormed off, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent not far behind her.

As she disappeared around the corner, you shook your head. “She’s going to do something stupid, isn’t she?”

James, still grinning, slipped an arm around your shoulders. “Probably. But don’t worry, darling. Whatever it is, I’ll be here to protect you.”

You shot him a skeptical look, though you couldn’t deny the warmth his words brought. “Protect me? From Uliana?”

“From anyone.” he replied with a wink, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “After all, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” he slowly backed away, trailing after Uliana and the others.

------

As the day dragged on, your concern about Uliana's intentions toward Bridget only grew. Uliana wasn't the type to let anything go unpunished, especially when it came to her pride. When you overheard her plotting with her crew to gather in her lair, it confirmed your worst fears: something was going to happen, and it wasn’t going to end well for Bridget.

You followed James down the path in the enchanted forest that led to Uliana’s lair, careful to stay in the shadows. You knew that if they caught you, it wouldn’t be just Bridget in trouble, but you couldn’t stand by and let them harm her. You had to intervene, even if it meant going up against some of the most feared students in the school.

Inside the lair, the atmosphere was thick with tension and malice. The lair was a reflection of Uliana’s dark nature, filled with eerie trinkets, ominous spell books, and enchanted artifacts that seemed to whisper as you passed by. Uliana paced in front of a large, sinister cauldron, her eyes gleaming with vengeful intent.

Hades, lounging in a chair that looked more like a throne of bones, watched with a smirk that suggested he found the entire situation amusing.

Maleficent sat on the armrest of Hades chair, her expression calm but her eyes betraying a flicker of interest as she listened to Uliana’s rant. Morgie, ever the observer, stood nearby with a wicked grin, clearly entertained by the idea of Bridget suffering.

James leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his usual confident demeanor in place. But as Uliana described her plan to curse a cupcake and turn Bridget into an ugly monster, a flash of unease crossed his face.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit... extreme?” James asked, his tone light, almost playful, but with an undercurrent of concern.

Uliana snapped her head towards him, her eyes blazing with fury. “She made me look ridiculous! I have to get even, James! No one makes a fool out of me and walks away unscathed.”

James raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “I get that, Uliana, but turning her into something hideous? That’s a bit overboard, even for us.”

Uliana’s gaze hardened, but before she could retort, her eyes followed James’s line of sight, and she saw you stepping out from the shadows. The room fell silent as you made your presence known, the villains’ eyes all locking onto you.

“Uliana, this is madness.” you said, your voice steady but laced with urgency. “Bridget didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an accident.”

The surprise on their faces quickly morphed into something more calculating. Uliana’s expression softened for a brief moment, her anger wavering as she heard your words. But she quickly masked it with a scowl, crossing her arms.

“And who are you to tell me what’s right or wrong, Y/n?” she hissed, though there was less venom in her tone than you expected. “You don’t understand. She humiliated me.”

“I know you’re angry.” you replied, taking a step closer, unafraid of the powerful figures surrounding you. “But this isn’t the answer. Bridget didn’t mean to hurt you. She warned you about the feathers, didn’t she? She wouldn’t intentionally embarrass you.”

Uliana hesitated, her resolve clearly shaken. The room was thick with tension as everyone waited for her response. Even the shadows seemed to hold their breath.

Hades, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk, finally spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm but carrying a note of reason. “The girl makes a valid point, Uliana. Revenge is sweet, but let’s be real, turning her into a monster? That’s a bit too permanent. We’re not here to ruin lives… just mess them up a little.”

Maleficent nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to you with a hint of approval. “There’s a fine line between justice and cruelty. You’ve made your point, Uliana. No need to go beyond that.”

Morgie, always the sly one, added with a smirk, “Besides, where’s the fun in cursing someone who doesn’t deserve it? Bridget’s harmless, too easy of a target.”

Uliana sighed deeply, the weight of their words and your plea finally breaking through her anger. “Fine.” she muttered, her tone less venomous. “But she owes me for this, big time.”

The tension in the room eased as Uliana’s rage began to subside. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, relief washing over you. Bridget would be safe, at least for now.

As you turned to leave, James stepped forward, falling into step beside you. His usual playful smirk was back in place, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, that was quite the performance, darling.” he drawled, his voice filled with admiration. “Didn’t know you had it in you to stand up to the big bad villains.”

You shot him a sideways glance, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone had to talk some sense into her. I couldn’t just let Bridget get hurt.”

James chuckled, the sound low and warm as it reverberated through the empty hallway. His hand brushed against yours as you walked, sending a spark of warmth up your arm. “You’ve got a good heart, Y/n. That’s a dangerous thing to have in a place like this.”

You looked up at him, catching the sincerity in his eyes despite the teasing tone. “I think I can handle myself.”

James’s smirk softened into something more genuine, his hand gently taking yours as you walked. “I don’t doubt that for a second.” he said, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “But if you ever need a pirate to watch your back…”

You laughed, the tension from before melting away completely as the warmth of his hand anchored you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You continued walking away from the lair, yet you couldn’t help but glance back at the group still standing there, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and respect. Maleficent gave you a subtle nod, a rare acknowledgment from someone as powerful as her. Hades winked, his smirk widening as if to say he knew you’d be meeting again, and Morgie gave you a mock salute, clearly impressed.

And Uliana, well, she might have been angry, but there was a glimmer of something like admiration in her eyes. You had done what few could, stood up to them and won.

-----

As the Castle Coming Ball drew nearer, you tried to push the earlier events out of your mind. But they resurfaced when James approached you again, this time with a question that left you momentarily speechless.

He found you outside the main building, leaning against a tree as you watched students bustle about, excitedly discussing the upcoming ball. When you saw him walking toward you, your heart skipped a beat, a reaction you were getting used to by now.

“Y/n.” he called out, that familiar playful tone in his voice. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” you replied, turning to face him fully. “What’s up?”

He hesitated, something rare for him, and scratched the back of his neck, a small sign of nervousness you’d never seen before. “I was wondering... Would you go to the Castle Coming Ball with me?”

For a moment, you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. James Hook, the flirty heartthrob pirate, was asking you to the ball? And not in his usual teasing manner, but with a sincerity that made your heart race.

“Are you serious?” you asked, trying to hide the surprise in your voice.

He grinned, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “Dead serious, darling. I think we could have a wonderful evening.”

Your mind raced, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “I... I’d like that, James.”

James stepped a bit closer, his presence both comforting and thrilling at the same time. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the scent of the sea, a reminder of his pirate roots, lingered between you.

"Is that a blush I see?" he teased, his eyes glinting with that familiar playful mischief. "Careful, darling. You’re making it too easy for me."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your attempt at nonchalance. "Don't get ahead of yourself, James. I'm just... surprised, that’s all."

He leaned in slightly, close enough that you could see the light stubble on his jaw and the intensity in his gaze. "Surprised? Why? Haven't I been obvious enough?" His tone was softer now, almost intimate.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure. "Obvious about what?"

He chuckled, a low sound that sent shivers down your spine. "About the fact that I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks now. Have you really not noticed?"

"I noticed." you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. "I just didn’t think you were serious."

James’ expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something more earnest. "Well, I am. Completely serious." He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. "I’ve been looking forward to this ball for a while, but only because I was hoping I got to show you off on my arm."

The sincerity in his voice melted away any lingering doubts you had. "You really mean it, don’t you?" you asked, your heart fluttering.

He nodded, his hand slowly dropping to his side, but not before brushing lightly against yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. "I do. And I promise, we’ll have the best time. I’ve even got a few surprises planned."

"Surprises, huh?" you said, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced. "What kind of surprises?"

He gave you a lopsided grin, the mischief returning to his eyes. "Now, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I suppose not."

James stepped back, his smile widening as he took in the sight of you, the playful pirate once again fully in control. "Just make sure you wear something that’ll make me regret every second you’re not in my arms."

Your cheeks flushed again at the implication, but you couldn’t help but play along. "You’ve got a lot of confidence, James."

He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, though you could see the satisfaction in his expression. "Confidence, maybe. But mostly, it’s just because I know what I want."

"And what is that, exactly?" you asked, your voice teasing but curious.

He leaned in close one more time, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You, darling. It’s always been you."

Before you could respond, he stepped back, flashing you one last roguish grin. "I’ll wait for you at the entrance." And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you breathless and more excited for the ball than you’d ever thought possible.

-----

The day of the ball, you found yourself surrounded by the girls Uliana, Maleficent, Bridget, and Ella, all of them helping you get ready. It felt like a whirlwind of dresses, makeup, and advice, and you were grateful for every bit of it.

Bridget, who had long since apologized for the whole flamingo incident, was the first to break the silence as she helped you with your hair. “So, you and James, huh?”

You felt your face heat up. “I guess so. I mean, he asked me, and...”

Ella giggled, adjusting the neckline of your dress. “And you said yes. That’s huge, Y/n. James doesn’t ask just anyone to the ball.”

Uliana smiled slightly, her eyes filled with a warmth you have never seen before. “He likes you, Y/n. And not just in the way he flirts with everyone. It’s different with you.”

You tried to push down the nerves fluttering in your chest, but it was hard with all their attention focused on you. “I know he flirts a lot, but this feels...real. I just don’t want to mess it up.”

Maleficent, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke, her voice steady and filled with wisdom. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned with Hades, it’s that genuine feelings can come from unexpected places. Just be yourself, Y/n. James already cares about you, tonight is just about enjoying that.”

Her words, coming from someone you secretly admired a lot, made you feel a bit more at ease. Maleficent was right, James had always been a flirt, but with you, it felt like there was more beneath the surface. Maybe tonight, you’d finally find out what that was.

Bridget finished with your hair and stepped back, a grin on her face. “There. Now, if James doesn’t lose his mind when he sees you, he’s a fool.”

You looked at your reflection, and for the first time in a long while, you truly felt beautiful. The dress, the makeup, the hair, it all came together perfectly. But what made you glow the most was the excitement in your heart, knowing that tonight, you’d be by James’s side.

Ella placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re going to have an amazing time, Y/n. And we’ll be right there if you need us.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and gratitude. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate all of this.”

The girls exchanged knowing smiles, and Maleficent gave you a final once-over. “Remember, just be yourself. James will fall even harder for you.”

With a final deep breath, you were ready. The night awaited, and so did James.

-----

On the other side of the school, James was having a somewhat less peaceful time getting ready. The usually composed and self-assured pirate found himself fussing over details he normally wouldn't even think twice about. Hades and Morgie had taken it upon themselves to make sure he looked his best, though it was becoming increasingly clear that they were enjoying the process a little too much at his expense.

James stood in front of the mirror, his brow furrowed as he tried to tame a particularly stubborn lock of hair that refused to cooperate. He had gone through this routine countless times before, but tonight felt different, like every detail had to be perfect.

Morgie, lounging against the doorframe, watched with an amused grin. "You know, James, you’re fussing over your hair more than usual.” he teased, his tone light but laced with mischief. “What’s the matter? Scared your usual charm won’t cut it tonight?”

James shot him a look, attempting to keep his voice casual. "Is that so? Maybe I just want to look good." he said, though the edge of nervousness in his voice betrayed him.

Hades, sprawled comfortably on a nearby chair, let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, for Y/n. Just admit it, James, you’re actually nervous.”

James paused, his hands stilling as he met Hades’ knowing gaze in the mirror. He hated how easily his friends could read him, but there was no denying the truth in Hades' words. “I’m not nervous.” he muttered, though even he wasn’t convinced by his own denial. “I just want everything to go right tonight.”

Morgie’s grin widened as he pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You know, it’s kind of cute seeing you like this. The big, bad pirate actually cares about impressing someone.”

James narrowed his eyes, but his annoyance was half-hearted. He pointed a finger at Morgie, his voice tinged with mock menace. “Keep it up, and I’ll make sure you have an ‘accident’ with the punch bowl in front of your date.”

Morgie held up his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his face. “Alright, alright, James. No need to get all worked up. But seriously, just relax. Y/n likes you for who you are. Don’t try too hard, or you’ll end up tripping over your own feet.”

James sighed, dropping his hand and turning away from the mirror in frustration. “I know, it’s just…” He trailed off, searching for the right words to explain the whirlwind of emotions running through him. He had never felt this way before, not with anyone. His usual confidence was still there, but it was layered with something deeper, something more vulnerable. “She’s different.” he finally admitted, his voice quieter now. “She makes me want to hook everyone that even glances at her in the wrong way.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and the playful teasing in Morgie’s expression softened into something more genuine. “That’s how you know it’s real, James. When it’s not just about winning someone over, it’s about keeping them by your side. And from what I’ve seen, Y/n feels the same way about you.”

James nodded, letting Morgie’s words sink in. He’d always been a flirt, charming his way through life without ever taking anything too seriously. But with you, it was different. You weren’t just another conquest, another notch on his belt. You were someone he genuinely cared about, someone he wanted to protect and cherish. And that scared him, in the best possible way.

“Alright, let’s do this,” James finally said, the weight of the moment settling in his chest as he grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. The fabric was rich and dark, the deep red color matching his usual aesthetic. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, taking a moment to assess the final result. He looked good, better than good, really. But more importantly, he felt ready.

Hades, always the supportive one despite his laid-back demeanor, clapped him on the back as they headed for the door. “Remember, just be yourself, James. Y/n already likes you for who you are. And if you need any help, you know where to find me.”

“Same goes for me.” Morgie added, his smirk back in place. “Though if you mess it up, I’ll be the first to laugh.”

James rolled his eyes, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his appreciation for their support. With friends like these, he knew he was ready for whatever the night had in store. He might be stepping into the unknown, but he wasn’t doing it alone. And with you waiting for him, he knew that tonight had the potential to be something truly special.

As they made their way down the corridors towards the entrance, James felt his usual confidence returning in full force. But beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something new, hope, excitement, and a touch of nervousness that only you could inspire. He was ready to face the night, and more than that, he was ready to face it with you.

-----

The Castle Coming Ball was a vision straight out of a fairytale. The grand hall had been transformed into a stunning scene of shimmering lights and elegant decorations that draped the space in a golden glow. Chandeliers glittered above, their crystals catching the light and casting delicate rainbows across the room. Students from every corner of the school mingled together, their differences forgotten for one night as they laughed and danced, swept up in the enchantment of the evening.

But amidst all the grandeur, your focus was entirely on the figure waiting by the grand entrance. James stood there, looking every bit the fairytale prince in his tailored jacket, the deep red accents matching the dress you now wore. His signature confident stance was as unmistakable as ever, but when his eyes found yours, the usual smirk softened into something warmer, more genuine.

As you walked towards him, your nerves fluttered like the butterflies in your stomach, but the tenderness in his gaze melted them away. The moment you reached him, he stepped forward, his hand finding yours. With a charming, almost reverent touch, he brought your hand to his lips, placing a light kiss on the back of it, his eyes never leaving yours.

James took in the sight of you, his eyes widened slightly, and a slow, appreciative smile spread across his lips. His gaze traveled from the hem of your dress to the intricate details at your neckline, and finally back to your eyes, a spark of recognition flashing in his expression.

“Well, lass.” he murmured, his voice low and smooth like velvet, “Don’t you look ravishing tonight.”

A blush bloomed across your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, a bit shy under the intensity of his gaze. “You’re not looking too bad yourself, Hook.”

James’s fingers brushed lightly against the fabric of your dress, the same deep red as the jacket of his suit. His touch was soft, reverent, as if he was marveling at how perfectly you two fit together. “You have no idea how much I love this.” he said, his voice low and filled with emotion. “It’s like we’re two parts of the same whole.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, the noise of the ball, the laughter, and the music all faded into the background, leaving only the two of you standing in the soft glow of the chandeliers.

James took a step closer, his hand slipping around your waist to draw you near. The proximity made your heart race, and you could feel the warmth of his body through the delicate fabric of your dress. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “I had some surprises planned for tonight.” he whispered, his tone laced with the mischievous charm that you had come to adore, “but I think you might’ve just surprised me first.”

You laughed softly, the sound blending with the music around you. “I hope they’re good surprises.”

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “The best kind.” he said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “But you’ll have to be patient, darling. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Before you could respond, James took your hand and guided you onto the dance floor, the music swelling as you moved together. His hand rested gently on your waist, while the other held yours with a confidence that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room.

As you swayed together to the rhythm of the music, James couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you. His gaze was filled with admiration and something deeper, something that made your heart flutter every time his eyes met yours. “You know.” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music, “I’ve danced with a lot of girls, but none of them ever matched me like this, like you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell. You tightened your grip on his hand, leaning into the warmth of his body. “You’re the one who makes it perfect, James.”

He smiled, his eyes softening with affection. “I’ve always thought I was good at taking peoples breaths away, but you… darling you’ve completely taken mine.”

The dance continued, the world around you spinning in a blur of lights and colors. James led you effortlessly across the floor, his movements graceful and sure, as if he was born to dance with you. Every turn, every step, brought you closer together, until there was no space left between you, only the overwhelming connection that had been growing since the moment you first met.

For a moment, the world outside of your small bubble ceased to exist. The dance floor spun around you, but all you could focus on was the way James held you, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. The music, the lights, the other students, it all became a blur, and there was only him.

As the song drew to a close, James slowed your movements, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. “Y/n, I...”

You held your breath, waiting for him to finish, but instead of words, he let his actions speak. He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was gentle, tender, and filled with all the unspoken emotions that had been building between you.

The kiss was brief, a promise more than a statement, but it was enough to send your heart racing. When he pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, you could see the affection in his eyes, the sincerity in his expression. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

A smile broke across your face, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “Then do it again.”

James grinned, that playful spark returning to his eyes, and without needing to be told twice, he leaned in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things you both felt but hadn’t yet voiced, a kiss that promised a future filled with more moments like this.

As you kissed, the room seemed to fall away completely, leaving just the two of you in a world of your own. When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, James didn’t move far, his hand still on your waist, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

Before you could respond, he took a small step back and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, intricately wrapped box. He handed it to you with a flourish, his grin widening as he watched your reaction.

You took the box, your fingers trembling slightly as you unwrapped it. Inside was a delicate silver necklace, the pendant a beautiful ruby that matched the color of your dress perfectly. It caught the light, shimmering with a warmth that mirrored the emotions in James’s eyes.

“I saw this.” he said, his voice soft but filled with emotion, “and I knew it had to be yours. It’s just as beautiful and unique as you are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at the necklace, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of his gift. “James, it’s… it’s perfect. Thank you.”

He stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you gently on the forehead. “Anything for you, darling.” he whispered. “You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

As he fastened the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. When he was done, he stepped back to admire his work, his eyes filled with pride and affection. “It looks perfect on you.” he said, his voice warm.

You touched the pendant, feeling the cool metal against your skin, and smiled up at him. “I don’t know how you keep making me feel so giddy, James, but I’m not complaining.”

He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms for another dance. “I’ll always be by your side giving you everything you want and more, Y/n. That’s a promise.”

As you continued to dance, lost in each other’s company, you noticed Maleficent and Hades watching from a distance. They were standing together, their expressions soft and filled with pride. Hades gently nudged Maleficent with a grin. “Looks like Hook finally figured it out.”

Maleficent smiled, her eyes warm as she watched the two of you. “It’s about time. They’re perfect together.”

Uliana and Morgie, who had been observing the scene as well, exchanged a knowing look. Morgie smirked, nudging Uliana playfully. “Told you she’d be the one to tame him.”

Uliana chuckled, nodding in agreement. “And it looks like he’s finally found someone worth changing for.”

Ella, who had been watching quietly, smiled softly, her heart swelling with happiness for you. “They’re good for each other.” she said softly. Bridget, ever the romantic, had a dreamy look in her eyes as she finished Ella's statement. “You can see it in the way they look at each other.”

While the night wore on, you and James stayed close, your hearts beating in sync as you danced and laughed together. The world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in the magic of the moment.

The Castle Coming Ball was everything you had dreamed it would be and more, but the true magic of the night was the boy standing in front of you, eyes filled with love for you.

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tainsan · 1 year

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misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

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-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.

word count: 6.2k

“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.

“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?”

Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer.

“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”

You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.

“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.

“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”

“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.”

“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.

“Touché Lee.”

Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.

“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”

“Why would that alarm me?”

Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs.

“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.

“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no.

You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.

“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk.

“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.

“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him.

‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.

“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand.

“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life?

“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.

“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.”

You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.

“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.

“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face.

“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.

“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed.

“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.”

“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male.

“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise.

“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.

“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”

“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.”

His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?

“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.

“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”

“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be.

“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.

“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.”

Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.

“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?”

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching. Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.

Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.

“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions.

“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.

What the fuck?

----

Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.

‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’

Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji.

‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’

Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning.

Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.

----

Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?

Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.

“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.

“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.

“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.

“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.

“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man.

“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.

“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.

“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”

You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs.

“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.

“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer.

“No drink?” he asks one more time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.

“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.

“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”

“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.

Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.”

“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,”

Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.”

“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.

“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.

Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.

“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself.

“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.

“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.

“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.

“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill.

“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.

“So do you want to see around?”

“I’d love to.”

They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet.

“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.

“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.

“How about you show your room too then?”

Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.

“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.

“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape.

“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.

“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”

You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.

“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes.

Peering around the room, turning in a circle

“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”

Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.

“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.

You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

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greenunoreversecard · 7 months

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Just general cole in a relationship?

A/N: sorry this took so long, I got sad. Also, the only way I convinced myself was the promised word vomit of general and romantic. So, whoops you get both.

Back in Black->Cole general and romantic hc

General:

Bro is a stoner.

Says it helps get him closer to his element.

Introvert irl, but has the biggest social media presence. (Faceless, obvi)

Half Korean

Has curly as fuck hair

Always tired (lowkey narcoleptic)

Allergic to pollen

Super chill. To the point someone could commit a felony in front of hi and he'll give prolly zero fucks

Ride or die fr

Likes to join kai in doing unhinged shit, but denies if caught by Wu.

Mlm demisexual. I cannot see him with a female. (Which is the only reason I'll write him on this blog, bc it's male/trans umbrella/masc gn readers)

Romantic:

Helpless romantic

Pulls out every stop

Super inexperienced, bc people thought he was really weird when younger, so he's super new and tries to copy the movies

Assure him you love him for him, and he'll calm a bit.

Def wants to boogie in the rain with you

Also: giving love language is Def gifts and acts of service. Hes also touchy, but not as much as expected. His receiving love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service/quality time.

He makes playlists for you

Also, he Def does granny crafts so expect to have a hand knit sweater at some point

Loves to see you in his clothes.

Hes lowkey a gym bro, so expect him to ask you a million times w/puppy eyes to join him at the gym

Very protective of you.

You guys have weekly self care days.

Sends good morning and goodnight texts

Cook with him! Another love language for him (giving or receiving) is cutting/preparing fruit or just feeding each other in general

He has prolly burnt water at some point, so you got the stove stuff, but he can chop really well so he's willing to chopy chop stuff for you.

Loves to cuddle and nap together.

I also feel like he loves to read to you, or be read to. I see him as a book worm kinda

Lets you do his makeup.

Kinda sucks at emotions (motherless) so he's bad with comfort and oftentimes is avoidant of conflict and emotion.

Hes also hyper-independant, so please reel him in when he's going on a streak of angry 'I don't need anyone I can survive by myself'..

He does need others. He's prolly just hungry. Get him some soup and a hug.

#greeny's inbox #ninjago #ninjago headcanons #ninjago fandom #lego ninjago #ninjago cole #ninjago x you #ninjago x reader #ninjago x male reader #Ninjago cole x reader #cole brookstone x reader #cole brookstone #X reader #X male reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cole brookstone ninjago #Cole Brookstone x you

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

Text

Title: Brave [2 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: As you begin to acclimate to life in the pack, your new leader seems to take a keen interest in your ability to survive.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this next piece! mind the warnings ❤️

You run your tongue across your chapped lips before reaching for the skin of water hanging from a long strap across your shoulder. The liquid inside is over-warm from the sun hanging mercilessly overhead, but you are grateful for it still.

Where are we even going?

The river had been days ago—three, perhaps four at your best estimation—and the pack had been pushing on ever since, riding out into the grass sea further than you had ever thought possible. When you had asked, your father had told you simply that there was nothing out there, his breath stinking of ale as he reminded you to keep your mind to your housework, else he would ensure you found out for yourself. And now, for all the fates cruel humor, you had found out anyway.

You had been spared death at the river, but the same luck that had kept you breathing now also bound you to the blue-eyed-orc and his pack. You had tried twice already to sneak away in the darkness, only to find yourself practically nose to nose with your captor, his eyes bright even in the dark.

Dangerous out there in the dark, Sweetmeat, he’d said, turning you around with one huge hand on your shoulder, tapping the flat of his blade against your backside as your cheeks flamed with hot anger and embarrassment. If you’re looking to raise an army for vengeance, you should ride in daylight. Even now, your face heats with anger. You had no intention of riding to the capital to raise the alarm—even if you knew how to get there, you doubt anyone would care for the fate of a tiny village in the borderlands.

You slip dangerously in the saddle, yelping as you grab for the reins, righting yourself. You had never ridden a horse before now, much preferring to watch the huge beasts from afar rather than subject yourself to them up close. The stallion beneath you seems to know it, tossing his head irritatedly as you pull back haphazardly.

“I’m afraid the saddle is too big for you.” The voice startles you, and you almost slip down out of the saddle again as you whirl to look at its source. Mirthful blue eyes meet your own. “We shall have to find you a smaller one.”

You glare at him, your mouth stubbornly shut.

“Oh come now. Are you still angry about last night?” He makes no effort to hide his amusement. You keep your jaw locked, refusing to answer—which only serves to amuse him further. Finally, your ire loosens your tongue.

“You would have killed me three days ago,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “And left my corpse in the dirt.”

“Aye,” he answers, cocking his head. “Yet I did not.” Somehow, this enrages you even more.

“You hunted the others for sport—” You half choke on the words. “You ran them down like dogs.”

“What use is a lame horse, Sweetmeat?” He asks. “Or a dog that won’t hunt?” There is no derision in his words, only indifference. “I cannot ask my riders to carry that burden.”

“So you kill them.”

“Aye.” You see reflected in his eyes the same cool apathy a wild dog might give a rabbit. “Would you ask a wolf to apologize for feeding its strongest cubs, Little One?” You bristle, but he continues before you can speak. “Perhaps because it is removed from you, you do not see it. But I have seen it. I have seen your great cities of men, and the bodies that line the ditches of their streets. There is death for them everywhere.” You want to deny the truth of his words, but they settle on your skin like oil. “Better a quick death by my steel than a slow one beneath the heel of the man you call King.”

He stops his horse, and you mirror him, watching the orc warily.

“If you wish to return to it, you’ve my blessing to do so, Sweetmeat. May you go and die in whichever way seems best to you.”

You are overcome with the urge to dig your heels into the stallion’s sides and take off, to cut through the swaying sea of grass like a clean blade—but you hesitate.

Your life in the village had been one of little note and much misery; tending to your father as he sickened himself with either too much ale or for the want of it as the days ground on and on. You’d felt little sorrow at his passing, considering he’d blacked your eye only three days prior. There were, no doubt, several villagers that had escaped on horses of their own, racing back toward the mountain to warn others of the orc-pack roaming the borderlands. You suppose you could rejoin them—the same people who had watched as your father’s druken rages consumed him and done nothing to help you.

Your skin prickles with distaste.

“No?” He asks after a lengthy silence. “Then let us ride on.”

You watch sullenly as he takes his place at the front of the group, the other riders falling into a loose line behind him.

—

No one offers to help you as you struggle down from your horse when they break to make camp, and you drop unceremoniously to the ground. For the most part, the rest of the pack ignores you completely, regarding you with the same indifference one might pay a rock as they go about setting up their bedrolls and hobbling the horses. They dwarf you as you all line up to fill your water skins, and the one with chestnut hair—-the blue-eyed-one had called him Buck—narrows his eyes at you.

“What’d you do to earn water today?” He sneers. “Get to the back. We’ll see if we have any left for you.” You dig your heels in gritting your teeth despite your fear. The protestation is there on your tongue, but before you can voice it, someone else speaks instead.

“Give her the water, Bucky.” The blue-eyed-orc rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, she will do nothing but slow us down and rob us of our food, our water—”

“Calm, Bucky.” He holds up a hand. “The human will hunt tomorrow, and tomorrow she will earn it. Tonight, give her the water.” For a moment there is tension between them, a charged current you can’t see, but it soon breaks. Reluctantly, Bucky fills your water skin, shoving it into your hands with a grimace.

“It was fine to give her Roth’s horse—he fell, he’s got no need for it now,” Bucky spits irritatedly. “But Tarrath’s a fortnight’s ride from here. She’s going to need to earn her water.” He frowns at you. “Like the rest of us.” Steve nods his understanding.

“Aye. She will. Consider it half my portion.”

Angrily, you shuffle back over to your horse and begin unstrapping your bed-roll from its back. Nothing has been said outright, but you sleep away from the others, setting your roll up at the edge of camp. You know you aren’t welcome. You know you shouldn’t care at all for your usefulness, but you aren’t sure you’d fare any better wandering the grass sea alone. Your horse—Roth’s horse—stares down at you judgmentally while you wind the length of rope around his front legs, and you frown deeper.

“Even the blasted horse,” you mutter, kicking aside a few loose rocks as you lay down the roll beside him. You don’t know how to hunt—it wasn’t as if your father had taught you, and you doubt he had the knowledge to do so in the first place. There is large bow strapped to the saddle, thus far untouched by you, and gently you undo the bindings. It is heavier than it looks, and you hold it aloft clumsily, the string biting hard into your fingers as you struggle to draw it back.

“You won’t catch anything like that.”

You don’t turn to look at him.

“You didn’t have to give me your water. Steve.” He chuckles at the sound of his name on your lips.

“I won’t be doing it again, Sweetmeat. So you’d better learn how to use that thing.” This time you do turn. He is closer than you anticipated, and you squeak with surprise as he plucks the bow from your hands with ease. “Hold it up, like this.” He draws the string back, the muscles rippling across his bare chest. “This is the sight, here, this notch.” He runs his thumb over the place where the arrow head will sit. “Come.”

When you don’t move, he grips your hands firmly, winding them around the bow.

“Like this, put your hand here.” His hand curls over yours, covering it completely. You’re practically trembling when he pulls away, your palms sweaty against the lacquered wood. “One last piece of advice, Sweetmeat.”

“What?”

“Don’t miss.”

to be continued

#chris evans #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #cevans fandom #cevans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #boxofbonesfic #bones drabbles #Orc Au #Brave fic

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