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#and i'll never be tall and i'll always have these shoulders
djarinmuse · 1 day
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WIP WEDNESDAY!
I was tagged by @nerdieforpedro (over on my main) and by @kewwrites and can I just tell you I love being tagged by these two writers who bring so much creativity to this fandom...I'm feeling sappy but it's true, I love and appreciate all the different voices that come across my dash and find y'all so inspiring, I wish I had time to read everything that's out there.
I finally have new words down for the next chapter of Second Chances, it's my oldest and longest fic and I just created a new Masterlist, hoping I'll find some new readers for it. It's about a girl who falls in love with a guy, she paints pictures, he's the leader of Mandalore...and they just want to have ten good minutes to themselves to fuck but shit won't stop hitting the fan! I've been working on this fic for two years!! TWO! IT'S 100,000+ WORDS. I literally taught myself to write again with this fic, you can practically see my brain developing new pathways when you read it.
And fuck it... here's a whole scene (this chapter is coming soon, technically still a draft)
Din’s voice comes through, “What the hell was that Rook!?” “A counter agent, good against most poisons. I always keep it on me.” Vasoux practically shoves Din aside. In front of your face now is a tall, really good looking guy you’ve never met, who helps himself to pulling up on your eyebrow with his thumb to look right into your eye. “She’ll be okay.” You snap back, slurring, “Oh…will I pretty boy?” He let's go but doesn't move in time.
You squirm and whine, “Boba…lemme go.” Boba Fett lets you go and you immediately fall forward into the arms of Vasoux Rook. He grins, “Woah uhhh.” You try pushing yourself off him but end up just leaning, slurring and sloppy, “I like tha’ purple armor. You guys have uh like…claim…” Din pulls you by the shoulders off him, keeping you upright on unsteady feet “on that color or…” Din keeps you from tripping. “Malla talk to me, you feel okay, does anything hurt?” Din maneuvers you to your bed. You shake your head no, lazily, “I stabbed Jon through the chest. He died.” Jon stands struggling to get to his wound under his beskar, coughing and failing to catch his breath, “I’m not dead…you bitch.” Din whips his head up, practically flies across the room and tackles him. His fists landing blows all over the stocky, shorter Mando. Brax and Daro allow it until Din grabs a fistfull of Jon’s hair, pulling his head back, ready to slam it into the floor. They have to pull Din off of him.
NP tags @boliv-jenta @maggiemayhemnj @goodwithcheese @morallyinept @julesonrecord @just-here-for-the-moment @missredherring @gemmahale
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yuujispinkhair · 6 months
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Brother (Part 1)
When you start dating Yuuji, you don't know that your sweet sunshine boy has an evil twin who wants to have his brother's girl, too.
Halloween Masterlist 2023
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) + Yuuji x Reader Genre: Horror, smut Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, dark content, consensual sex with Yuuji + noncon with Sukuna. Rough sex, degradation, humiliation, getting called slut, whore, cheater. Forced orgasms, pussy spanking, squirting, cumshots. Sukuna isn't a nice guy in this story. Sukuna and Yuuji look completely alike. Sukuna doesn't have his tattoos. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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The room is dimly lit, filled with the loud chatter of people and the music playing on the stereo. The small space is filled to the brim, bodies lightly brushing against each other. Someone walks past you, pushing you against the boy standing before you. But you don't mind. You are already wrapped in his strong embrace. Your hands are linked behind his neck, your fingers playing with the short hair of his undercut, and your lips are locked with his in a slow, deep kiss.
You have been dating Yuuji for a month, and things are going great. He is cute, loving, and fun. His kisses are sweet, and his dick makes you feel like you're on cloud nine. He is the most caring guy you ever met.
You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, and Yuuji smiles. That big sunshine smile that made you instantly say yes when he asked you for your phone number. His large hands caress the small of your back through your shirt. His warm, golden eyes meet yours.
"I'll get us something to drink. What do you want, cutie?"
You grin up at Yuuji, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. He is so pretty and so sweet to you.
"A coke would be great. Thank you, baby."
Yuuji pulls you into another tight hug and presses a quick but enthusiastic kiss on your cheek before he leaves for the kitchen.
You decide to head to the bathroom while he is getting your drinks. And so you make your way through the crowded living room and into the hallway, still smiling, still feeling your lips tingle from the sweet kisses Yuuji gave you.
Your hand lands on the door handle to the bathroom when a muscular pair of arms slips around your waist. You look over your shoulder and blink in surprise.
"Yuuji! I thought you wanted to grab something to drink?"
But Yuuji just grins at you, and his large hands land on your hips. Before you can react, his tall, muscular body presses against your back, and he shoves you into the bathroom.
You stumble inside, laughing a bit breathlessly as you turn around to see your boyfriend lock the door behind you.
Your heart is racing, and you chuckle softly. Oh, sweet Yuuji isn't a good boy all the time, huh? You feel a bit embarrassed when you think of the people who must have seen the two of you disappear in the bathroom, but the idea of being in here with your boyfriend while a party is happening right outside the door is exciting.
You cock your head and ask teasingly,
"Couldn't wait until we are back home? I didn't know you were such a naughty boy."
Yuuji turns around to look at you, and your breath catches in your throat. He has the same pretty pink hair as always and the same handsome face, but somehow he seems different. He looks at you with an unveiled hunger and a feral glint in his eyes.
Somehow, the usually so sweet and loving boy looks intimidating. And somehow, it makes your pussy clench.
He walks towards you slowly and gracefully, reminding you of a big cat, a predator, cornering his prey. Instinctively, you try to step back but find yourself unable to do so as your back presses against the sink behind you.
Even Yuuji's voice sounds different. Dangerous, low, and husky.
"Yeah, I want to take you in here and see you struggle to keep your mouth shut when I fuck you."
You gulp. Yuuji has never talked to you like that. Dirty talk, yes, but always in a loving manner. Never like this. What is going on? Is this some kind of kinky roleplay he wants to try?
He has closed the short distance between you now and stops before you, tall and buff. You gulp. Usually, Yuuji's broad and tall figure doesn't feel intimidating. He is such a gentle guy who makes you feel safe. But right now, here in this dimly lit bathroom, you suddenly become frighteningly aware of the power imbalance between you. How tall and big he is, how strong, a body packed with firm muscles. He could do anything with you.
You feel the short hairs on your arms stand up, and your pulse flutters nervously as you look up at him. He is towering over you, tall and strong, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
You draw in a sharp breath when one of his large hands grabs your chin to tilt your head up roughly. For a split second, you look into eyes that should feel familiar but don't. But then his lips capture yours in a hard kiss. You whimper as he pries your lips open forcefully, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth without warning.
This doesn't feel like the two of you are sharing a kiss. It feels like he is taking a kiss from you by force.
Something feels off. This guy who is kissing you doesn't kiss like your sweet sunshine boy, Yuuji. Is he drunk? But no, you were with him until a few minutes ago, and he didn't drink a single drop of alcohol because he has a game tomorrow and needs to be sober.
He pulls away, leaving you stunned and panting heavily.
"Y... Yuuji, what.."
But he already grabs you tightly and turns you around so your front is pressed against the sink, and his tall, buff body is pressing against your back, caging you in.
You look into the mirror, seeking his gaze in the reflection. What you see in the flickering light of the old fluorescent bathroom lamp makes a cold sensation pool in your gut.
The usual sunshine smile, which is so typical for Yuuji, is gone and replaced by a cruel sneer. His usually warm golden eyes fix you with a cold stare, and the lighting in here makes them glow almost red.
Yuuji's large hands are moving over your body now, groping you, squeezing your flesh, and tugging on your clothes, and suddenly, you are filled with a strange fear. This doesn't feel right. You don't like the way Yuuji acts all of a sudden. Almost as if he is a completely different person.
"S...stop! Yuuji, what are you doing?"
"Don't call me that name."
You feel like someone pulled the rug out from under you. Your head is spinning. What is happening? What does he mean?
"W... what?"
He smirks at you in the mirror, and then he starts laughing. But it's not a fun laughter, not the type of laughter that tells you this was all just a stupid joke. It's a cruel, mocking laughter that fills you with dread.
"Oh, you are such a dumb little thing, huh?"
"What do you mean? Yuuji, please, what is going on? Stop it! You are scaring me!"
"Aww, and she still doesn't get it! Stupid little girl. Need me to explain it to you, huh?"
His voice is dripping with fake pity, and his next words make your world flip upside down.
"I'm not Yuuji. I'm Sukuna, his twin."
His lips lift in a triumphant, cruel smirk, and his hold on you tightens, long fingers digging painfully into your flesh.
The room around you seems to spin. In the distance, you hear the muted noises of the party. The bass of the song currently playing in the living room and the chatter of the other party guests. But they all seem to be a hundred miles away. You are all alone here with him. With Sukuna. With that guy who has the same face and body as your sweet boyfriend but who is nothing like him.
Your voice sounds strange to your ears, slurred and too slow. Maybe it's the fear that's making you hear weirdly. Maybe it's the rushing of your own blood in your ears that makes everything sound wrong. What you say sounds stupid even to yourself.
"Yuu...Yuuji never mentioned a brother..."
As if that can help you.
"Oh, I'm not surprised that the brat didn't tell you about me. My family doesn't like talking about me. They like to pretend I don't exist. I am the wrong twin, the evil and unwanted one. You could call me the family curse."
Fear is washing over you, filling your stomach with a tight knot. Your lips tremble as you whisper,
"Please, let go of me."
"Aww, I don't think so, princess. You and I will have some fun now. Yuuji should learn to share his toys. He's not being a very nice brother. Keeping you so selfishly all to himself. But I will take what I want."
Sukuna's hands slip under your shirt, yanking forcefully on it, and finally, your fight or flight response kicks in, and you cry out loudly, throwing your whole body weight against the man behind you, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. Your hands land on his, desperately clawing at them, trying to get them off your body.
But to no avail. Sukuna is too strong for you. He presses his tall, muscular body even tighter against your back, letting you feel the hard bulge in his pants, which sends an even stronger wave of panic over you. His mocking laughter fills your ear as he leans down so his lips brush over your earlobe.
"Yeah, fight back, come on! I like them bratty! Makes me want to break you even more! You make me so hard when you struggle against me!"
His words make you sob fearfully. How could things go so wrong? How did you end up in this situation? Your body is still struggling instinctively against him, trying to get away from him, trying to run.
But you know you cannot escape. Sukuna has trapped you between his buff body and the sink. His large hands are already tearing your clothes off, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it to the floor, yanking down your bra to make your tits spill out, shoving down your pants and panties, exposing you to him and his hungry gaze in the mirror.
"My brother picked a pretty little thing. Let's see how good that pussy is."
Your eyes widen, making you look like a terrified ghost in the flickering light of the dimly lit bathroom.
You can feel Sukuna working on the zipper of his pants while you are frozen in fear. And then his hot, wet cock slips between your thighs. It's all going so fast that you don't even have time to react before you feel his fat cockhead pushing between your pussy lips and rubbing over your hole.
That's the moment when you start screaming.
But a large hand gets pressed on your mouth instantly, muffling your scream and turning it into a pathetic-sounding whine.
"Tsk tsk. If I were you, I'd shut up, brat. What do you think will happen if someone hears you and kicks down the door? Hm?"
He sounds amused by your fear. Amused and turned on.
"I'll tell you since you aren't very smart. They will see me and think I am Yuuji. And then they will say, 'Sorry for disturbing you. We will let you have fun with your girl,' clap me on the back, and leave again. No one will think my sweet, sunshine boy of a brother would ever hurt his pretty little girlfriend. Everyone loves Yuuji. No one will come to save you from him. I can fuck you all I want, and there is nothing you can do."
And with that, Sukuna rams his cock into you, splitting you open forcefully around his fat length. The burn is immense. Tears prick at your eyes, and you scream again, out of pain this time.
When Yuuji fucks you, you feel a slight burn too, anytime he finally pushes his whole thick cock into you. He is a big boy, always filling your pussy so completely. But with Yuuji, it's a good burn, the kind that makes you push needily against him, moaning his name and wanting him to fuck you even deeper. With Yuuji, it is loving and sweet, and you always know he will take the best care of you, making sure to please you.
With Sukuna, it is nothing like that. He is taking you by force, fucking you raw with hard, brutal thrusts while he's growling in your ear like a wild animal. Using you and fucking you as if he is punishing you for choosing his brother and not him.
Hot tears stream down your face, smearing your makeup, and you sob into Sukuna's large hand that is still pressed tightly over your mouth.
You have stopped struggling by now. There is no use anyway. You have resigned yourself to your fate. You know you will not get out of here if he doesn't want it. You will just let him use you, hoping it will be over fast, and he will leave again just as quickly as he came into your life.
You slump against him bonelessly, feeling so helpless and small in his large hands, getting used and fucked, trembling and shaking with every brutal shove of his cock.
The initial pain has lessened, and by now, you only feel the familiar stretch of a fat Itadori cock.
That's the worst thing. You know the feeling of getting fucked with this cock. This is Yuuji's twin...they are identical. Their cocks are exactly the same. You know that thickness, that length, that vein on the underside. You know this cock, that fills your pussy so perfectly as if it was made for you. That cock that always hits the spot that makes you cry with pleasure.
You hate yourself for it, but you are getting wet. Even when Sukuna takes you so brutally and against your will, this cock makes you wet. This cock makes your cunt clench greedily around it as if she is begging him for more, betraying you in the worst way.
And it doesn't go unnoticed by your captor. Sukuna's taunting laugther fills your ears,
"Aww, someone's little pussy is getting wet. You like that, huh? You like getting fucked by me. You cannot hide it when your cunt is drooling all over my cock like that. Naughty little slut likes it rough, huh?"
Sukuna grabs your chin, digging his nails into your skin, and forces you to lift your head so you stare directly into the mirror.
Your scared, wide eyes stare back at you, wide open, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks, your lips grotesquely puckered up by the way Sukuna's hand is pressing your cheeks together. And behind you is he.
The evil twin. The monster that carries the same face as your sweet boyfriend. But he looks nothing like Yuuji right now. His eyes glitter with malice, and his face is contorted in a taunting smirk.
"Watch yourself getting fucked. Look at you, you cheating whore! Cheating on my sweet brother. You get off on that, huh, you little slut? Getting so wet for me. Are you gonna cum on my cock?"
Every taunting word is accompanied by a hard thrust. Sukuna seems to be so feral, so out of control, but the way he fucks you shows you that he is fully in control of his own actions. Everything he does is done purposefully. Every brutal thrust hits the spot, making his fat cockhead torture your sweet spot unrelentingly, making pleasure build deep inside you even while you try everything to fight it.
You don't want to cum for him! You don't want this monster to be able to fuck an orgasm out of you!
"Aww, I can already feel your greedy little pussy tightening around me. You cheating slut are really gonna cum on my cock, huh? Are you gonna cum? Yeah?"
Your pussy twitches wildly, clenching hard on Sukuna's unrelenting cock, coating him in your cream. And he fucks it back into you with his thick length, brutally stuffing you over and over again, his cockhead torturing your g-spot, hammering brutally against it until you can't take it anymore.
You cry loudly into his hand, your body jerking violently as your orgasm crashes over you against your will, fucked out of you by force, and you squirt all over Sukuna's cock and the floor.
You feel so humiliated, so ashamed as your juices run down your legs, and you cannot stop your body from making a mess.
Sukuna basks in your humiliation, taunting you for it, smirking and laughing at you.
"Aww, princess couldn't keep it in, huh? Got fucked so good she squirted. Tell me, are you such a squirter, too, when my brother fucks you? Are you bathing his cock in your juices too? Nah, I think this is your first time making such a mess, huh? Needed a real man to make that pussy cum so much. You are so pathetic. Cumming so fast on my cock. It must really turn you on to get fucked by your boyfriend's brother."
You close your eyes, feeling more hot tears well up, this time out of shame and guilt, while Sukuna pushes his fat cock in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast.
"Open your eyes, slut."
A hard slap lands on your puffy clit, and you scream into Sukuna's hand as your hips buck wildly.
Another cruel chuckle is breathed against your ear.
"You like that, you filthy slut?"
Sukuna laughs, and his hand connects with your clit again, hard and mean, making you howl into his big hand.
A growl is exhaled against your ear, and Sukuna pulls his fat cock out of you almost the whole way before slamming it back into you with a brutal snap of his hips while he spanks your clit again, abusing your sensitive cunt from both sides. With his cock and his hand.
You hoped he would let go of you after he forced an orgasm out of you, but Sukuna isn't finished with you. Another firm slap lands on your clit, making your body convulse uncontrollably, and a loud, broken sob escapes your lips.
"Such sweet sounds you make. You like that, huh? Yeah, I got you, little dumb thing. Gonna slap another one out of that needy little cunt. Come on, beg me, slut!"
He takes his hand off your mouth, laughing at the thick thread of spit and snot that still connects it with your lips. His glittering eyes fix you with a cruel gaze in the mirror.
"I said, beg."
You hiccup, your voice hoarse and full of tears,
"P... Please, Sukuna, please stop."
But he laughs mockingly and shakes his head,
"That's not what I meant. I want you to beg me to fuck you and make you squirt again."
You don't have it in you anymore to fight back or disobey him. Maybe if you do what he says, it will be over soon. But you feel horrible when you open your mouth to say those words.
"Please fuck me..."
"And?"
"P... Please make me squirt again, S...Sukuna."
He pinches your clit, making you gasp.
"Not convincing enough. Try again."
"Pl... please, Sukuna, please let me cum on your cock again! Please fuck me! Please, I... I need your cock so bad! Please let me squirt on it!"
He makes a sound that is a mix between a moan and a chuckle.
"Slut."
You're crying again, but you can't even tell anymore why. Out of shame, out of fear, out of the pain of being so overstimulated, out of pleasure you don't want to feel.
Desperate mewls and sobs leave your trembling lips as Sukuna rubs your clit roughly with two calloused fingers so fast that your hips are jerking wildly. He has absolute power over you. Switching between rubbing rough, fast circles around your puffy clit and spanking it hard with the palm of his hand while he keeps your wet messy hole stuffed with his thick cock, drilling his swollen tip unrelentingly into your sweet spot.
Your pussy is clenching so wildly on him that you cannot hide your arousal from him. And he soaks it up, watching you with hungry eyes in the mirror, with that sadistic smirk on his face, eyes full of smug glee while he taunts you for cumming on him, telling you how bad you are, how naughty for doing this to his poor brother.
You feel like a rag doll in his arms, weak and helpless, head lolling back against his broad shoulders, weakly watching in the dirty bathroom mirror how Sukuna humiliates you. Your legs are shaking, your tits are bouncing sluttily from how hard he is handling you, and your mouth is hanging open in desperate soft mewls, so close to blacking out from exhaustion.
But Sukuna spanks your pussy, firm slap after slap onto your swollen clit, which is already puffy from the overstimulation, making your little abused bud pulse hotly with pain and pleasure until it becomes unbearable. Your breath quickens, coming out in desperate gasps as your pussy tightens around Sukuna again.
And before you know it, you squirt again, onto his cock and his hand, losing all control of your body, unable to stop cumming. Watching in utter shame as Sukuna keeps slapping your clit, making your juices spray everywhere, spanking your pussy until you have given him every last drop.
He laughs, pulling out of you, apparently finally satisfied with the state he fucked you into.
Without his strong body behind you, you can't stay on your feet anymore, and you fall to the floor, where you lie in a crumbled heap. And Sukuna stands over you, one foot on each side of your body. He is so tall, so big, and menacing. But you can't do anything but look up at him dazedly, watching as he fists his fat cock with fast, firm strokes, jerking off over you while he smirks at you.
"Open your mouth, slut."
It doesn't matter anymore. He has already taken everything from you, and so you open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out for him, looking up at Sukuna with tear-stained eyes as you wait for him to finish.
You see his cock twitch in his hand and hear the low groan in the back of his throat. And then his cum shoots out of his fat mushroom tip and rains down on you in milky thick threads. His seed lands on your face and body, hot and thick, desecrating you even more.
But you swallow the part that he shoots into your mouth obediently, sobbing only so slightly as you realize that the brothers even taste the same.
Sukuna crouches down next to you, cupping your cheek and making you turn your head so you have to look up at his sneering face.
"Look at you, such a messy girl, lying in your own squirt and covered with my cum. Now you know who you belong to. My brother can't have you to himself. From now on, you belong to both of us."
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Thank you so much for reading my first contribution to my Halloween Special 2023!! Writing evil Sukuna was so much fun!! I hope you liked it!
Comments and reblogs would be sweet!
I decided to split this story into two parts because it got too long. In Part 2, we will see more of Yuuji too. I hope to post it next week!
HERE IS PART 2
Halloween Masterlist 2023
3K notes · View notes
darklordofthesimp · 1 year
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Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)
Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.
Requested by @chippyroh :
#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.
#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind
A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.
Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort
Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.
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It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?
You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”
You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”
You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.
You’d done everything right.
So, why was he so fucking angry?
“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”
“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”
His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.
“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”
Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.  
“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly.  For once, you wished you had never made it home.
______
You were angry at yourself for crying.
It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.
Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.
Who the fuck did he think he was?
You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.
“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.
Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”
Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.
“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”
You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.
Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.
You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.
Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.
You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.
You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.
Bang, bang, bang.
You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.
Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.
You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.
“Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.
The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.
“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.
“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”
Fuck.
You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.
“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”
You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”
“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”
“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”
You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.
“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”
“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.
“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”
“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”
 You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”
“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”
“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“
Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.
You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.
He wasn’t going to hit you.
Instead, Ghost kissed you.
You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.
When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.
There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.
“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”
You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.
But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.
But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.
“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.
When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.
“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”
Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.
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“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader
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GIFs by me :)
Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 643
A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)
Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist
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divider by @pommecita
“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.
"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.
Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.
So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling
Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.
You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.
Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.
“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.
“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.
As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.
"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.
"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.
"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.
"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.
A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.
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bvidzsoo · 4 months
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Grease and Oil
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⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳
TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it
Word count: 5,693
A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!
            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.
I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.
“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”
Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”
He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.
“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.
“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.
“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”
Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.
“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.
“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.
“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”
Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”
Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.
“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.
“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.
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            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.
“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.
“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.
And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”
“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”
“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.
“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”
“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”
Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.
“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.
“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”
“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”
I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.
“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.
“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.
“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.
“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.
“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.
“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.
“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.
“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”
Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.
“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.
            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.
“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.
“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”
My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.
“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”
I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.
“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”
But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.
“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.
“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.
“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.
“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”
Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”
His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”
“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”
“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.
“That we should go for a second round—”
“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”
Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”
“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.
“I thought I smelled hot—”
“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”
“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”
“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.
“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.
“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.
“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.
“Goodbye, Mingi.”
“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.
Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?
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yawnderu · 4 months
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You Fight Your Demons, I Ride Mine | Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader
Drip.
Your eyes focus on the corner of your room, staring at the tall figure that visits you in your restless dreams, haunting you ever since your friends were stupid enough to suggest playing with a Ouija board.
Drip.
Your gaze goes to the bathroom door, listening intently to the water dripping from the faucet every few seconds. When your eyes return to the corner, the man was closer. He always does this— getting closer every single time you're not staring right at him, always stopping at the foot of your bed before disappearing into nothing, the only evidence left behind of his presence being your fast-beating heart.
Your eyes stay on him, trying your best to put on a brave face despite knowing he can taste your weakness. You're not able to look at any details about him, only his silhouette, yet you now realize he doesn't move at all— lacking the regular up and down movement of someone's shoulders when they breathe.
Drip.
He's getting closer even when your eyes are focused on him, not a single footstep heard, the dripping faucet and your heavy breathing the only things making a single sound in the room. He stops at the foot of your bed and you let out a sharp breath thinking it's over. He has never stepped any closer.
Until now. His knee raises as his hands come down to your mattress, slowly but surely climbing your bed, the coldness of the room becoming more evident the closer he gets. It's the first time you see it— the skull balaclava covering his face, dead brown eyes staring right into your soul. You close your eyes tightly and raise the blanket over your head, hoping it's just a bad dream like the ones you've been having, hoping for him to disappear like he always does, yet you can feel the weight of his body as he cages you in, fully on top of you. Despite not being religious, you take as many chances as you can.
''Our father, who art in heaven—'' A dark, deep chuckle rings into your ears, spreading the vibration of his chest all over your much smaller body.
''Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'' He finishes the prayer for you, mocking clear in his tone, completely unaffected by what was supposed to drive him away. God doesn't scare him— he never did. Gloved hands trace your waist up and down, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he feels your body tensing up underneath him.
''What, are you scared?'' He taunts, British accent growing thicker the more excited he gets, finally getting his hands on what was promised to him many years ago. His hands travel across your chest, up until he can grasp at the top of the blanket, roughly pulling it all the way down despite your loud protest. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open them in fear of what you'll see. He moves out of the way; the blanket being thrown to the floor as he stared down at you.
''Go away.'' You manage to plead weakly, face scrunching up sourly when you feel a gloved hand cup your cheek, patting it condescendingly.
''I'll be back.'' He gets up from your bed slowly, black clothes not even making a sound as he walks backwards, going back to the same corner he's always at. You dare to open your eyes, barely managing to see the dark figure turn into nothing as he's about to hit the wall.
A/N: Should I make a series out of this? It was pretty fun to write.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months
Text
Hot n' Hard
(another desperate attempt at writing shitty smut, please don't read if you're under 18)
summary: you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
word count: 1,547
warnings: dirty talk, exhibitionism, spanking, p in v sex, sex in a pool(duh), creampie
my masterlist
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"Come on, it'll be fun" Harry urged, asking you to get in the pool with him for a hundreadth time.
"Harry, I just got my hair styled for tomorrow. Not gonna ruin it" you replied, and got back on the bench beside the pool.
"Fine. I'll go inside myself.”
He grabbed the wet towel that was on his shoulder and threw it on top of you, making you groan.
"Yuck!" you yelled, before throwing it away.
You just had a cahnce to look at him, and it was enough to get you riled up.
He was wearing his shorts.
The green shorts.
One whoch were ridiculously small for his tall legs, and when they became wet, showed off everything that was meant for only your eyes.
"Your loss" he remarked, before doing a forward dive straight into the pool.
That bastard.
If you weren't listening to him, he knew how to always get you beside him, and you were sure he wore those to agitate you.
From the point of removing the towel to him jumping in the pool, every single person inside and outside ogled him like he was a fucking god. (which he was)
Even girls who were minding their own business before, were looking at him like he was a fucking meal. Now, you wanted to go inside the pool and touch him, kiss him, grab his perfect ass, do whatever was necessary to keep those eyes off.
He got what he wanted.
Grabbing a large claw clip from your tote bag, you carefully put all your hair up and out of your shoulders. Getting up, you drank some water before removing your glasses and keeping your stuff on the bench. 
Walking to the stairs, you managed to do the best catwalk you could, since Harry’s eyes were on you the whole time. Gradually walking down the few stairs, you were in the pool, making your way to your hot-ass boyfriend.
"Look who came" he remarked, throwing the ball he was playing with the people in the pool, towards you.
You managed to catch the ball gracefully, before catching up with where he was, and throwing it to the other side.
You slipped when you were standing in front of him, but he immediately caught you, causing you both to press into each other at the edge.
Your boobs pressed against his chest, and he involuntarily grabbed you from behind. His bottom pressed against yours, and that's when you realized.
He was hard.
"Sorry, fuck" you cursed, before separating your body from his.
The realization had both of your eyes grow wide, and pupils blown out. You both got a bit awkward, making minimal eye contact. After a hot while of playing the game, most of the people got out, since it was almost evening.
"Harry, what he fuck?!" you whispered in his ear, when you both had drifted to a corner and a few people were on the other side, far from you both.
"Can't really blame me, can you? Wearing that red bikini and with hair looking so perfect on your head? It’s like you were trying to get me hard. Plus, that little walk you did before entering only made me harder."
"Now what?" 
"Well, you have to do something, I can’t walk out like that. Plus, these shorts are too short."
You gave him a snarky look, before continuing.
"Well, that's not really my fault, is it?"
You began to turn on and walk away, but he grabbed your stomach and pulled you on him.
"It is your fault. And you are gonna help me fix it."
He whispered hotly in your ear, before biting your earlobe. His one hand was wrapped tightly around your torso, while the other one went to your clit.
One touch, and he realized you were as wet as he was hard.
"Fucking minx" he cursed before he started rubbing your clit.
You moaned and threw your head back, resting it on his shoulders.
"Harry– we can't! Not here" you said to him. Though, you both knew it was not true.
"Oh, is it? Thought you liked it when people watched you. when your cheeks are flushed red because of how hot and bothered you are. When your pussy is squeezing my cock so fucking good, all you can see is stars behind those closed eyes. When your eyes roll into the back of your head because of how good I give it to you."
You released another filthy moan at his dirty words of admission. You always had a kink of liking it when people watched, as Harry fucked your brains out. And it was only fueling on as he made you cum for the first time, around his fingers
His grip on you tightened and he turned your face to meet your lips with his. You tend to get loud when you cum, and the way he kissed you, drowned all those noises out.
"Harry fuck!" you whimpered, as the waves of pleasure rolled over you.
"I know, sweetheart." he kissed you with more frevor, removing his hands from your oversimulated pussy.
You immediately turned, and wrapped your hands around his neck. Tightly. You pulled him in for a kiss again, this time, immediately pushing your tongue into his hot mouth.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding on his cock which was standing away from his body. The friction had him groaning into your mouth, and he grabbed your hips tightly, before pulling you further into him.
You both moaned in unison as his cock lined up with your pussy, and he quickly let go of you. He pulled down his boxers to his knees and pulled you back into him. He pushed your thin bikini bottom to the side and lined his cock with your desperate pussy. His tip made its way past your lips, and your pussy was so wet and welcoming, he easily bottomed out. he groaned and you moaned, before your mouth dropped open.
“God, you’re so fucking tight. Squeezing me so well” he spanked your ass and began thrusting into your pussy. The water started to ripple benath your bodies and sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed through the water. You grabbed his hair and pulled at it, while he squeezed your ass from behind.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you mumbled his name again and again, his cock brushing sweetly against your g spot with each thrust. Harry was gone too, his eyes were threatening to close and get lost in the pleasure like you, but he knew he had to keep his eyes open.
He was Harry Styles after all.
He grabbed your face again, before kissing you deeply. Your hips grinded against his pelvis with each thrust and your thighsshook around his. Your core was tightening with each spank to your ass and each thrust inside your pussy, you wanted to cum so bad. But you wanted to wait for him. Cuming together was an euphoric experience for both of you, and since you both had been riled up for a while, it would be so hot n had, you would have trouble walking afterwards.
He was getting closer to the edge faster than he’d ever been. Your pussy was incredibly tight around his cock, and the adrenaline of people watching was doing wonders to both of you.
Minutes after, both of you let go. Your eyes fell closed and mouth dropped open as the orgasm hit you like a wave. Pleasure rolled across your body, and you dropped your head into his shoulders, biting down into the flesh. He let go too, shooting his cum inside you. Your pussy had tightened even more, and milked him for all he was worth. Both of your legs shook as you came, and moans and curses of each other’s name filled the air.
You both stayed like that for a while, catching your breaths and relishing in the feeling of your bodies joined so inimately. There were harldy any people around, and he could finally hold you tightly into his arms, kissing your shoulders and praising you for doing so well.
”Did so good, my sweet girl.
“I love you so damn much, you have no idea”
“I love you too, Harry” you said, before pulling your head up from his shoulders and kissing him sweetly. Pulling back, he gently pulled out of you, making you wince.
“Shit. Sorry, love” he smirked, and you both immediately knew that he was so not sorry.
You immediately squeezed tight, to keep his cum inside you. Your bottoms fell into place and you sighed, as a warm, bubbly feeling spread across your body. He started to move and you followed him, though at a much slower speed. Climbing up the stairs, you quickly wrapped a towel around your waist, to hide any cum that may ooze out and drip down your thighs.
“You go to the bathroom, I’m right behind. Gonna tell them to drain the pool water.”
He smirked, before swatting your ass again and making his way upstairs.
. . .
taglist:
@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou
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luvit · 4 months
Note
HOLLYYY FUUUCCCKK that dilf keeg was unfathomably so fucking hot GOT ME CLIT THROBBIN SO BAAADDD inform me u gonna take reqs bcz imma need a continuation of that masterpiece indeed.
babe elli idk how ur brain works so well but OHMYNGOD I need more dilf keegan becayse what the fuck that man is so hot. -🐰 anon + like 6 more anons who asked for more LOL
(gn!reader)
BAHAHAHA dilf!keegan has the best of us. i'll whip up a whole new one, just for y'all ;)
dilf!keegan who hangs out with his daughter on the porch every so often. claims it's good to get her outside so she can run around, but it's mainly so he can watch you go along on your runs throughout the neighborhood. you're young, sociable, and always say hi to his daughter when she waves to you as you pass. watches the way your ass moves so nicely when you jog past. or catches you stretching and warming up on the sidewalk when you need to take a breather.
dilf!keegan who teaches his girl how to play hopscotch. shows her how to draw with chalk on the sidewalk so she can jump around. but she doesn't realize it's a trap that he's set to get you to come closer and interact with him. that he knows you'd play along and hop on the course she made that leads to his front door. where he's waiting and grinning at you as you high five his daughter and start polite conversation with him. he gets up from his porch chair to go talk to you but "trips" over his daughter's bike where he accidentally cages you in to the wall of his house.
dilf!keegan who gives you a flirty grin and slowly moves away, but not far enough so that he puts too much distance. keeps himself close enough so that you're able to smell the detergent he uses for the laundry, the aftershave from that morning, and practically feel the rumble of his sheepish chuckle he lets out. crosses his strong arms over his chest that makes his arms bulge and you realize just how big and tall he is. you'd never noticed it well from how he was always sitting whenever he was out.
dilf!keegan whose grin turns into a proud smirk when he sees you ogling him. asks you if you like to workout since you're always on runs around here. when you tell him you just like to stay in shape but you don't really do much outside of that, he grins. tells you he has a home gym he uses since he can't really drop his daughter off anywhere without her fussing too much. and that you're welcome to come by so you can work out together. stay in shape. get to know each other a little more.
dilf!keegan who's a little surprised at the way you agree to him. saying that you've been wanting to do more to build up your physique. that prompts him to run his eyes down your body appreciatively. but you don't notice since his daughter is excited that her daddy gets to have a friend over for a playdate. and you think it's cute. i mean what could go wrong when he has such a cute little daughter around?
dilf!keegan who proves you wrong when you realize he likes to workout shirtless. showing you the muscles he's earned from all those years but still maintaining some of that fluff from getting older and caring less about his physique. who likes to show off in front of you as you're running on the treadmill and he's grunting with every rep and sweat dripping down his chin. he grins when you sees that you're not keeping even breaths since the air was taken away when he comes over to correct your form. puts his hands on your waist and between your shoulders to help you fix your posture, making sure to lightly graze it against you teasingly.
dilf!keegan who asks if you want to try lifting his weights next. and that he can help spot you so you don't wake his daughter up from her nap by dropping the weight. so he gets up behind you and presses so nicely into your back, letting you feel his sticky skin as he pants behind you and against your neck. makes you wish maybe you wore different workout clothes because his sweats do nothing to hide the bulge that presses into your ass when he subtly grinds against you.
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glittersstuff · 25 days
Text
Statement - Jack Hughes
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Warnings; insecure reader, sassy Jack, prejudice
Rie's note; hope you all have a nice monday 🍃
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"please don't do that to me!", Jack whines when he saw her new clothes. Tomorrow is game day against Vancouver Canucks and she decided to cheer for Quinn and bought a whole fan outfit. Her first game. You swear there are small tears in his eyes.
"why the hell are you doing this to me?! I'm your man to cheer for!", he hectically says.
"Jack you never asked me to be your girlfriend and Quinn is a good player!", you shrug your shoulders.
Honestly everyone knows they're a couple, just never made it official. Jack always tries to protect her, cooks for her after a long work shift, he doesn't chase after other girls, he just has eyes for you. He doesn't care if fans like them together, he does. For him you're perfect the way you are. He's so into you in every single way.
The real reason is, you're struggling with yourself. This man looks like from the Vogue and could have every woman he wants. He could burn a kitchen down and looks like a daydream. You're not that skinny or tall, very clumsy, have a normal job and on top you're not blonde like all NHL-girlfriends. You don't want a shitstorm because of it.
"Quinn is my brother and everyone except our fans knows we're together. Tomorrow is your first game and when I score for you I don't wanna see that ugly blue!", with dramatic moves he looks at you and goes straight to his closet. "Look, I have five jerseys with my name on it. Red and white suits you better my love. Trust me I know what fashion is", Jack grabs one jersey out and shows you with a small grin.
"no"
"is it because I never asked you to be my girlfriend?!", he sits down on his bed. Not in a calm way, more like a petulant child who doesn't get candy. His grin is fading away.
"you'll see tomorrow", you clearly response, giving him a quick kiss without an answer and leaves the room.
Next day when you wake up, there's no Jack beside you. Just one single note next to the bed.
"have fun today. love you."
So you're the first time in an arena like this. You don't know any of these perfect looking WAG's and stand beside them not talking any word. You can feel the funny GIFs and memes on social media about you. You don't like this attention. Once the camera zoomed at you, Jack looks at the screen exactly this moment and smiles softly. For one second he forgets his team plays badly today but it was worth it to see this gorgeous woman in his clothes. She choosed him, not Quinn. You hear how fans speculate about Jack.
Devils lost.
You can see the journalist and this rolling wall with promo to do an interview with Jack after the game. You know how much he hates it and his sassy answers all the time. But Jack's smiling.
"We're with Jack Hughes! Hello Jack. We saw you have personal support besides your brothers here today. Is it your girlfriend?", the sweating hockey player stands next to this reporter, usually he is very private about his life but it feels right for him. "Yes. Actually I never asked her to be my girlfriend so I can be happy she's wearing my name on her back, she deserves better", he laughs. "Can I say something on camera?", he asks this older man in suit, he nods. "Y/n? I'm sorry I didn't score today but I'm glad your here. Do you want to be my girlfriend?", he took the microphone and looks at your direction.
Now everyone is looking at you. What a statement from him.
Instead of getting hate, everyone smiles at you in a friendly manner.
"uhm, yes", you smile down at him, in a lost way. He gives a thumbs up. Typical Jack.
"Ok, then burn this Canucks jersey. No offense Quinn. I'll see you at home my love", he winks to her. Jack leaves without saying goodbye to this reporter like he got everything important done.
At that moment you knew no matter how many people will hate you, you're good enough without blonde hair and a perfect body. Because he doesn't care about it, too.
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tarjapearce · 5 months
Note
I'm just minding my own business, eating a nice hot Italian sausage sandwich, and my brain decided to do the naughty thinking
Imagine Miguel all pent up cause he hasn't been home cause our big man's a workaholic, and when he is home he's dead tired or you're busy too for whatever reason. You two finally get to sit down and have dinner for a little date night, he's just finally relaxing and ready to dig into the delicious meal you two made together, and the poor poor man looks up just in time to see your lips wrapped around a sausage or any other suggestive food item., and his brain just fries.
I never understood the food leading to dirty thoughts thing until one of my exes straight up forbid me from getting ice cream cones or popsicles on dates and he had to explain it. Now I just find it hilarious
Oh nonny, 🤭
Mild nsfw undercut. suggestive, Dirty minded Miguel ~
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It didn't matter how heavy his shoulders felt like or how hefty they slumped, exhausted as he was, knowing you awaited him with welcoming arms was his reward after an extra busy day at HQ.
The Boss would find himself lost in your loving embrace, replenishing his energies with that gesture alone.
"Welcome home, Miggy"
Your voice was like a lullaby after the countless screams, barking orders to recruits that seemed to be slacking and so many complaints about the little malfunctions of his gizmo. But now, he was home with you, ready to prepare dinner.
Being a leader was exhausting, and when he was exhausted, he'd be hungry. Mostly of the times he'd be starving for you. Either just physical comfort like showering him in affection, playing with his hair or even letting him snuggle you on the bed or couch, whichever he plopped on first.
But other times it was the hunger for having you a trembling and breathless mess underneath him, mewling his name and pleading for more of him.
He chopped his share of vegetables as you cooked other things next to him. The little chat about his day turned into little playful bites on his arm, trying to light his mood up.
"Go sit down, I'll serve. You're tired."
"I'm okay, corazón."
You slapped his butt gently and smooched him, "None of that. You always work hard. Lemme spoil you, ok? Go sit."
Knowing that arguing with you was futile, he went to his seat and you served him one of his favorite comfort foods.
Huevos rancheros, some chile con queso and some spicy sausages. The way his lips burned at the spicy food was one of your preferred faces he made whenever eating along a tall glass of lemonade.
He dug right in after you sat next to him, devouring his food like he hadn't eaten in a long time, and knowing him, he probably hadn't have a nutritious meal in the past days. He groaned in delight at your seasoning.
"You'll choke, sweetheart. Do you want more?"
"I'll get it, it's ok."
He was about to stand up when his eyes darted towards you and your lips. Pouty and kissable lips perfectly molded in the round shape of the sausage. His Adam's apple bobbed as you bit down gently on it, letting the taste invade your mouth with a satisfied groan.
Some of the meats juices scurried away in the corner of your lips, one of your fingers dabbed away the little droplets before sucking it off your finger. His brain was entering an override. Lips parted as you took another bite, a little groan rumbled at the base of his throat as his eyes fixed on the degluting motion of your throat.
Just the way it moved when he slid in and out of your mouth, using your warm crevice in a more creative and delicious way. Your tongue peeked to lick your bottom lip, cleaning the saucy mix off it to then release it with an inaudible pop.
"You okay?" Big, round bunny eyes stared at him innocently.
"Yeah..." He tore his eyes away from you. Cause he knew that if he kept staring, he'd just throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom where he'd make a trembling mess out of you. Tiredness slowly abandoned his body.
How could such mundane thing had turned his gears this way was beyond him.
"So good" You mumbled at the taste of the sauce he had done. His cock twitched almost involuntarily. Oh how he remembered the other intonations of such phrase, specially when he buried himself deep enough in your tight and moist walls.
"Miguel?"
His hands slicked his hair back, trying to placate his thoughts.
"Si?"
"Do you want more?"
He'd always want more, that wasn't even a question. Would it be too selfish to just rip your clothes off and bend you over the kitchen and raw you silly until your legs gave out?
Focus
But how could he when you were slurping the sausage off? Was it intentional? No. You were just hungry and he was definitely being dirty minded.
"You sure?"
"I'm fine, amor."
Lies. He wasn't fine and his cock certainly wasn't fine either, as it grew painfully tight in his sweatpants.
"Oh, you have something in your lips"
You'd dab away the sauce off him, to then lick it off.
Dios mío...
He stood gently to then pry the dishes away from your hands and threw you over his shoulder. It had been the last straw
"M-Miguel!" You giggled as he marched towards the bedroom. Exhaustion abandoning him completely.
Yeah, he'd be always hungry for something more.
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luveline · 1 year
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).
7k words, new established relationship to established relationship, lots of fluff and some small angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, calls him aaron, basically hotch treating you well
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1. Soup. 
"Are you hungry?" Aaron asks, hands at the neck of his shirt as he loosens his tie. 
You've never seen him do that. It's a lot to take in.
"A little, are you?"  He's lucky that you remember to answer.
His smile lights you up inside and out, a warm, casual quirk. "Famished." 
"Should we make something?" 
He turns from the doorway and moves into the kitchen. You have to twist on his couch to see his movements. 
"No need. I should've asked if you like it, but I made vegetable soup. The kind with mini dumplings." 
You look down at your legs and squeeze your thighs together until your knees tap. You're too shy to go and meet him where he's standing, but perhaps sitting and having him wait on you is arrogant. And awkward. 
The couch is plush under your hands as you stand. You'd slipped off your shoes at the door, and your socked-feet slide over the tiled floor of the kitchen as you make your way to his side. Aaron lights the stove, atop which stands a tall cooking pot. 
"When did you have time to make that?" you ask, soft with awe. 
"I knew you'd be coming over. I started it this morning." 
"And if I didn't like it?" 
He turns his gaze to yours, pot lid held aloft. "Then I would've ordered in for us. You're sure this is okay?"  
You've never had somebody cook for you before. Homemade, fresh ingredients, and the intricacy of the dumplings too, it all impresses and amazes you. You feel very special. Like you're worth all the effort. 
"I'm sure. More sure if you let me try it." 
His laugh startles you for its rarity. "Okay. It's not done," he warns. 
"Just to taste it." 
He stirs the warming soup with a big spoon for half a minute, the heat on high, before scooping up some broth and holding it above a cupped palm. "It's probably not very hot," he says. 
Oh, you think, excited and sick with nerves at once. He's going to feed the soup to me. 
Something out of a movie, something you didn't know people actually did for their significant others, Aaron waits for you to open your mouth and offers the spoon. You slurp and feel heat rise to your cheeks at the clumsy sound. 
"Aaron," you say, soft and obsessed after you've swallowed, "it's really nice. You made that yourself?"  
"I can cook," he says defensively. 
You lick your lips, giggling. "I can tell. That was really good. Though it was definitely too cold." 
"Mm. It has to cook through some more. Reduce. Do you want to shower?" He puts down his wooden spoon, head tilting to one side gently. He assesses your expression, and brings a curved hand to settle over your cheek. The tip of his index finger kisses the delicate skin under your eye. "No, maybe not. You look tired." 
You probably shouldn't say something like that to your brand new girlfriend (you scream internally at the word, every single time since he asked you a week ago) but Aaron speaks factually. You don't think for a second that there's any malice there, any hidden critique. His words shine with concern. 
"It's Friday. I'm always tired at the end of the week." 
His hand falls to your shoulder. "I can imagine." 
"You can go shower, if you like. I'll watch the soup." 
"I need one, huh?" 
He must know how well-kept he looks even now. You're not sure you've ever seen him dishevelled. 
"Definitely need one," you try to tease. It comes out murmur-quiet, and Aaron takes pity and kisses your cheek. 
He leaves to shower and you 'watch' the soup — you stand at the stovetop and soak in it's emanating warmth, stirring it every now and then to prevent the bottom from burning. The shower runs muffled from the bathroom, and your mind wanders as it tends to do. It's an undeniable fact that Aaron is naked right now, the thought opening an avenue of images you've been trying not to think about all day. It's your very first time spending the night after a couple of weeks of dating, and now you're together, if Aaron wants to have sex tonight you'll say yes. He's handsome, and his build suggests a certain… tenacity. 
His hands would convince you alone. Big hands. 
You look down into the simmering pot of soup and smile harder than you have any right to smile. He's done everything right, all the romance; he'd asked you out clearly with no doubt of his intentions, which had shocked you; he'd brought you a bouquet of flowers on your first date, which had delighted you; and he hadn't tried to take you home, which had surprised you. 
Modern romance often doesn't feel very romantic. Things with Aaron are different. 
Hell, he's so sweet he probably won't make a move unless you make one yourself. 
You'd prefer to be squeaky clean tonight, you've decided, just in case. When he gets out of the shower, you'll tell him you've changed your mind.
The shower shuts off. He appears a little bit after that, in new clothes, towel around his neck and feet either side of your own as he sidles in for a damp and quick cheek kiss. 
"Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to eat?" he asks, taking the spoon from your hand to give the soup a big, gran stir. 
"Actually, could I shower?" 
If he's surprised at your changed mind he says nothing, only turns down the heat of the stove. "Of course you can. Come on, I'll show you how it all works." 
His 'come on' is accompanied with a guiding hand at the small of your back. You let yourself be guided. The heat of his touch fills your stomach and doesn't abate, no matter how cold you run the spray. 
2. Phone calls. 
It's the week after that when you're supposed to be spending the night again. You're excited for two reasons, the first and smallest being that he had been what you thought and more in bed, that itself an expectation raised, and it had felt like connection at its brightest — he'd been sweet, and he'd been rough but never, not ever once cruel. A perfect night. The second, and biggest, is that he's honestly just the nicest person you've ever met. He's your boyfriend, a phrase you don't say in front of him because he's admittedly older than you, and you can't imagine he calls you his girlfriend. Partner might be more apt. He's your boyfriend and he's openly fond of you. Openly more than that. It's new to be doted on as ardently as he dotes on you. 
He touches you like he can't believe he's touching you. He talks to you like you're gold dust, all smiles and laughs heavy with admiration, and he listens. You've never felt listened to in the way you do when you're with him. 
So many conversations are just one party waiting for the other to stop talking until it's their turn. You think, maybe, Aaron would let you talk for hours. He would listen the whole time. 
In summary, you're basically thrumming with excitement to see him again. You've missed him some, but mostly you've spent the week bouncing off of walls waiting for the next time you get to talk to him. 
His text is disheartening, to say the least. 
Hey, honey. I have to cancel our plans tonight. I'm sorry, and I'll explain as soon as I get the chance. Please take care of yourself for me until I can.
It doesn't make you mad. While it is extremely short notice, and your heart hurts to the point of frustrated tears, you know it isn't his fault. He's been clear about his job at the FBI and what that means for you both. How it will without a doubt pull him away from you during dates, the middle of the night, special occasions, the works — this had been after a small disclosure about his commitment to his son, Jack, and how he's a father first — and how it will definitely cause some strain. 
"But," he'd said, "I want you, and I want this to work. So if you can be patient with me, I'll try to make it worth it." 
He's been successful every time. After he'd cancelled your third date, he'd quickly rearranged it and apologised with a modest but beautiful bouquet of flowers. 
Somewhere between the fifth and sixth date, you hadn't seen him for two whole weeks, and every worry you'd had about his intentions had been abated by a steady stream of encouraging text messages and the occasional photograph. Nothing crazy, but sweet things, like the cookies he and Jack had made that night, captioned, I'd save one for you if I thought Jack would let me, or a sunrise in a different state, captioned, This looks like the dress you wore to Lemaira. 
Later that night, you're unhappy and frowning still, a small carton of ice cream freezing your fingers to the cardboard and a spoon in your mouth when your phone starts to ring. 
You aren't expecting it to be Aaron. You aren't in the habit of calling one another, even though you'd secretly wished he would while he's away beforehand. 
It's nearing eight o'clock. 
"What time do you call this?" you joke, smiling despite yourself. Again, the excitement that comes with talking to him wells at the surface. 
"I know, I'm sorry," he says, sounding very tired. 
You slouch down into your couch cushions, ice cream on the armrest, remote for the TV on your chest. You click the volume button down, down, down until the TV's near silent. 
"I'm kidding, mostly. Are you okay? I've been a little worried." 
Understatement of the century. You know sudden cases of violence often draw him away from Virginia, but this had been sudden sudden. The lack of information had made you think the worst, worse than serial killer and bombers and hostage situations. You'd thought Aaron was in danger himself, and then you'd tried to suffocate that thought. He'd never worry you like that even if he were. 
"I'm fine. Sorry to miss you tonight." 
"I'm sorry to miss you too," you say, voice disjointed, too earnest. You scramble to hide the depth of your feelings. "Where are you?" 
"I'm in St. Louis. Where are you?" 
You laugh, curling onto your side with the phone pressed up against your ear. "Where am I? I'm at home." 
"What are you doing?" 
"I was watching TV." 
"Yeah? Did you eat anything yet?" 
You think to the takeout you'd bought and shoved in the microwave, not hungry at the time but knowing knowing would be. "Not yet. Why are you asking?" 
"I want to know." 
"I told you in my text I would take care, Aaron." 
"Honey," he says, pet name like a warm palm over your heart, "my definition of taking care and your definition are very different. Promise me you'll eat something."
"Of course I will. Easy promise." You scratch the couch fabric absent-mindedly. "Have you eaten?" 
"Yes," he says, the sound of a closing window in the background. "It's awful how much take out I eat. All these cases, there's never any time to cook real food." 
"Why, what did you have? And surely there's some uber healthy options out there, like, a chickpea salad-" 
"That costs thirty dollars? I'm not struggling, honey, but we both know that's obscene." 
You're laughter takes on a giddy quality as you cross your leg over the other, picturing his smile as his laughter echoes breathily down the line. You really, really wish he were here right now and that you were having this conversation face to face. You know he'd smile and try to hide how smug he feels at making you laugh. His hand would reach over any gap to touch some silly part of you, forearm or collar or the skin under your ribcage. 
"Are you okay?" You say his name to drive the point home. Your voice is quiet — you're hesitant to offer, worried you're crossing a boundary. "Aaron, I know you don't like bringing it home, but you aren't home, so… I'm here." 
"I know. It's nothing I want you to worry about, there's an ongoing situation here, bomb threats coming in quicker than the local P.D can handle. They need us to vet them and figure out if any of them are real." 
You think about it for a few seconds, the silence small but not uncomfortable. If you were under that kind of pressure, you'd be hurting. Chest pains, anxiety shakes, a migraine. 
"You'll be safe?" you ask. 
"Always. I'm not in any danger. And I need to get home, I owe you a Friday." 
"You do," you mumble. 
There's the creak of a box spring mattress, and the sound of a lamp being clicked. On or off, you don't know. When Aaron speaks, his tone is dulcet and hushed but distinct. You feel it in your chest. 
"Tell me about your day," he murmurs. 
You lay it all out for him in detail. He can barely reply when you hang up, sleep thickening his affectionate, "Goodnight, honey." 
3. His bleeding heart.
"What kind of kid were you?" he asks.
You look up from your notebook, surprised. Aaron has been silent for what feels like an hour now, laid out on the picnic blanket with your sweater bundled up under his head while the sun warms your skin. 
"I was…" You let your pen roll into the centre of your notebook and close it. He's laid his paperback flat across his chest. You think he might be very interested in the answer. "It was a long time ago, but I think I was lonely." 
He nods like this is what he'd been expecting. "Me too." 
It's a gorgeous day out. The sky is a light, bright blue with few clouds. They block the sun occasionally, providing a short and bittersweet shield from the heat. The grass surrounding is shockingly green, rippling in the breeze. 
"You were?" you ask. "What were you like?" 
"I was quiet." 
"That's not surprising," you say mildly. 
"No, I guess not." 
You abandon your notebook and lay down beside him. Worrying what you look like from this angle, you cover your jaw with your hand and turn toward him ever so slightly to show you're listening. 
"I liked affection. I remember my mom used to say I was a siphon for it. I'd be all over her, and she'd have nothing left to give anyone else." 
"That's not true," you deny. Every ounce of affection that you given him, he has returned tenfold, and that's inspired a lot of kindness in you, for him and for the world. "You're like an amplifier, if anything." 
He smiles to himself and turns his gaze skyward. "I wish we'd met before." 
"Me too," you say, leaving little room for debate.
"You're so kind," — he adorns you with each word like a gift, a tiny star of praise — "I think you're the kindest person I've ever met." 
He laughs. It's a catching sound, contagious as anything. You giggle with him and shift closer. Your arms touch, your hips. 
"Baby," you murmur, almost lamenting, "d'you ever think your ability to see the good in people is- It's indicative of the good in you... You've given more of your life than most to keep other people safe. That's the kindest thing a person can do." 
He tangles your hand with his where it had been resting on your stomach. You're pretty sure you can feel every line of every fingerprint as he works your fingers together, a snug fit like one of those wooden brain teaser puzzles: How do you pull these two pieces apart? From the outside, it looks impossible!
"I think I'd be different, if I'd met you before. I'd be kinder," he says. 
You can't agree with him. It's obvious who he is. You know more about him now than you ever have before. His late wife, how she'd been the best mother they ever made. His son, and how he moulds Aaron everyday into a better man. His friends, who trust him, who adore him. All these people have a hand in who Aaron is now, and while you wish you'd been around from the start, now will have to do.
"You're plenty kind," you say. Understatement of the century. 
"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "With you-" He cuts himself off, head-shaking from side to side as he pulls your joined hands up slowly. 
Your arm bends and then turns as he pulls it toward his face. He unlinks your fingers to steer your forearm, aligning it flat over his lips. The first kiss is a surprise, light like the feathered edge of a flower petal, and the second isn't dissimilar. 
The third melts you, veritably, the parting of his lips emphasised by the dull scratch of teeth against your pulse, the wet heat of his tongue. Three becomes four, and a final fifth, crescent moons pressed into your skin like he's trying to tell you something. 
You've no clue what. You likely couldn't say which way the world turns, not when he's kissing you. Not like this. 
Aaron has an acute ability to talk without talking. Hello's and thank you's and I care about you's woven into quick kisses, the swift squeeze of his hand over the slope of your shoulder.
These ones say something you don't want to speak aloud, lest you jinx it. 
The sunlight fades. A big grey cloud covers the sun.
"I think it's gonna rain," you say. 
A raindrop splashes in Aaron's eye. 
"Fuck," he says, which is hilarious, because he never swears in front of you. You hadn't known he cussed at all. 
The downpour is slow and then sudden, spitting rain dotting over you both like a fine mist as you stand, a thicker, faster outpouring chasing your heels as you hurry to the car. You realise you can't outrun it even if you sprint, and so you stop, Aaron's hand in yours tugged like a rubber band. He bounces back into your chest with the picnic blanket under his arm, your books tucked somewhere inside. 
He doesn't ask what you're doing. He's made the same deduction as you, or maybe he trusts you, or maybe he's indulging you. 
"Your hair," he laments. 
"Doesn't matter," you say. 
You lift your chin up for a kiss. Aaron ducks down to give you one. A raindrop runs down the bridge of his nose to the tip of yours. 
4. In sickness. 
You insist that it wasn't the rain that made you sick, but honestly there's no way to tell. You'd kissed for slightly too long, and the rain had been surprisingly cold. Now you aren't very well, and you have to cancel Aaron's sleepover. 
You hold out as long as you can, but come Friday afternoon it's clear you aren't getting better. You wake to a text from Aaron, two texts, and it makes you smile through shivery coughs. 
I can't wait to see you tonight. Do you need anything before I get there? Miss you. Sent 6.26AM.
Is everything okay? Sent 9.17AM. 
Usually you'd have answer his morning text within the hour. 
Hi, I miss you too, so much, but I don't think we'll be able to see each other tonight. I've got the flu :( I'm sorry. And sorry I couldn't answer your message until now, I was sleeping. 
It's another hour before he answers. You rouse from your gross snotty stupor to squint at the phone. It's surprisingly long. 
I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get back to you, things are tense here right now. You don't have to be sorry for either, I'm glad to hear you're resting. You could have told me you were sick. Is it okay if I come and see you tonight anyways? I would love to check on you. Don't rush to answer, and call me if you can. 
You call him with reservations. 
"Is this a good time?" you ask weakly, forgoing a hello. 
It takes him a little while to speak. You assume he's leaving a room, closing a door. "Now's fine. How are you?" 
"My throat hurts and it's a little hard to breathe, but I'm sure I'll live." 
"You've been to see a doctor?" 
"It's not that bad." 
He sighs. "You sound tired. And sore. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" 
"You don't have to baby me, I'm really okay." 
"Have you considered that I'd like to baby you?" 
Not really. You can't imagine anyone would want to deal with you. You're a mess, you look awful, you don't smell great, and you're not good company. You can't think of a single reason Aaron would want to be anywhere near you right now. 
"No," you say, "I hadn't." 
"I'd love to look after you." 
"You could be doing something fun with your Friday. You could see Jack." 
"Jack's going to Kings Dominion. And Fridays are our day, you being sick doesn't make me want to see you less."
You hadn't said that, but he'd inferred it. Of course he had. 
You and Aaron decide that your sleepover will go ahead after all. Or, he persuades you very gently. You spend three hours doing tasks that should only take one. You shower, you clean your room, and you do the dishes. By the end of it you're sweating enough to need another shower but you aren't a quitter, so you open the freezer and stick your head in, hands braced against the refrigerator door. 
You're excited to see him. You always are. Too bad you look so wiped out. 
It's almost 6.30 when you hear his knock on the door. You'd been waiting for him and started dozing at the kitchen table, your neck a mess of twisted nerves, your hand numb from supporting your head. You shake it out and open the door, sheepish. 
"Hi," you croak out. 
He has a lot of stuff with him. His familiar overnight bag, a briefcase, two grocery bags, and a bouquet. 
"Aaron, why," you moan, covering your face with one hand as you move back down the hall to let him in. 
"Not the greeting I'd hoped for." 
"I can't greet you, I'll make you sick." 
You get all the way to the kitchen and think, triumphantly, that you've escaped his 'greeting'. He puts the flowers down carefully on the kitchen counter as you try to come up with a thank you that doesn't make your eyes burn. The grocery bags are placed without ceremony on the floor, and his overnight bag falls onto the kitchen chair. You watch him unbutton his rain spattered coat, and your triumph fades when he peels out of it and instantly reaches for you. 
"Aaron," you mumble, stepping into his arms. He knows you can't say no to a hug, not after a week of not seeing him. 
"I missed you," he says, arms around your back, lips at your temple. "You're running a temperature." 
"It's not that bad. 101." 
"Honey, 101 is bad." 
"Not as bad as 102." 
"Not as bad as 102," he concedes. You can hear his voice rumbling in his throat, and feel it in his chest and yours.
He takes as much of your weight as he can, leaning back so you're forced to arc forward. Your face slips into his neck, and you're thinking, this is what it's like? To be held, sick, with nothing to give? It feels good.
"Please tell me the next time you're sick," he murmurs. 
You definitely will. If this is what it's like, roaming, cautious hands over your shoulder blades, a strong nose stroking lines against your warm forehead. 
"Thank you for the flowers." 
It's squished against his skin but he hears it. "You're welcome. Do you want me to put them in a vase?" 
"I can do it." 
"I think that might defeat the purpose. They're a gift, not an extra chore." 
"Nobody ever got me flowers before you, so it doesn't feel like a chore at all." 
He encourages your face back enough to look at you. You have to mouth breath on him because your nose is all stuffed up, and it is not something you're happy to do. You look down so he can't feel it. 
"I'm gonna do something really cheesy, and you can tease me about it later, okay?" 
You look at him from under your lashes. "'Kay." 
"Close your eyes," he whispers. 
You let your eyes shut. Aaron cradles your face in both hands and pulls your face toward his chin, in your rough approximation. 
Heat fans against your eyes. He kisses your eyelids, the left and then the right, the most gentle press of his lips you've ever felt. 
"It's killing me to see you like this," he says, and you're grateful for the pinch of humour behind it. "Couch or bed?" 
"Couch. I wanna watch a movie with you." 
"Good. I wanna watch a movie with you, too." 
Aaron does everything. You're too tired to notice, but when you're better, you'll add it all up. He makes you dinner and breakfast and lunch and enough for the day after that, too. He trims down all your flowers and places them in a vase on your window sill. He recleans your room, cleans your bathroom, and plays nursemaid diligently. He makes you take your temperature in front of him, and then he fawns and makes you hug an ice pack, stays the night again when he's supposed to go home. 
It sucks, but your temperature falls, and when your insides stop cooking themselves you start to feel better. On Sunday morning, when he has to leave, you feel the strange pang of being cared for unconditionally like the wind being knocked out of you. He'd done all of that because he cares about you. He'd wanted to see you fed and well and happy, and he hadn't gotten anything out of it in return. 
5. The test-drive.
"Hi, Jack," you mumble, rubbing wetness out of your sleep-heavy eyes. "Good morning." 
"Good morning," he says cheerfully, of his father's disposition. 
"Did you," — you yawn wide and turn your face so neither of them can see — "sleep well?" 
"Yeah, thank you. Why are you so tired?" 
Aaron's standing at the stovetop making oatmeal. You stand at the counter beside it, hips touching but facing opposite ways. "I'm still getting used to your dad's bed." 
It's true. There's something about someone else's mattress that makes you ache. 
"What is it about my mattress you can't get along with?" Aaron asks in good humour, adding a generous pinch of salt to the saucepan. 
"It's more comfortable than mine," you say with a self-satisfied laugh. 
Aaron pecks your damp cheek and skirts around you to fill three identical bowls of oatmeal next to three identical glasses of orange juice. Jack cheers when his portions are placed in front of him, and he digs in even though it's ridiculously hot. 
Aaron had explained once that he's basically trained Jack to eat it scorchingly hot by accident. Years of oatmeal straight off of the hob versus a growing boy with no patience. You watch in awe as Jack scarfs it down. 
You and Aaron are doing this thing. You've called it the test-drive in your head. He wants to see how well you and Jack get along, likely, and how well you handle living together, too. (Though you absolutely don't think you'll be moving in together quite this soon.) That's your working theory. He'd asked you if you'd be interested in staying for the week a month ago, and you had, and it had been a dream. This is week two, and it seems to be going just as well as the first. 
It's definitely revealing. To see each other's routines. And an adjustment. You have to see all the gross stuff, no avoiding it. 
Though stuff you might consider gross he enjoys. Like watching you put on body lotion, he'd loved that more than words could express. And watching him shave, you'd loved that more than you'd thought you would. You'd sat on the lip of the tub and he'd listened to your morning murmurings, half asleep and excited as always to talk to him about everything. 
Getting to know Jack more has been a joy, too. You've met him nowhere near as many times as you would've liked and done family things: bowling, pizza places, the movies, a baseball game. 
Eating breakfast together is way more fun. Especially because Jack likes you. 
As soon as you sit down he starts to tell you about school. You listen, sipping your orange juice while you wait for the oatmeal to cool from lava. 
After breakfast, the three of you head back to your respective bedrooms to get dressed. 
That's something else you adore, you and Aaron undressing and redressing together in the space in front of his closet, the intimacy of casual nudity, and the way his hand closes around your hip to move you out of the way of his shirts. 
You're pretty much inseperable until you get to the car park. A firm believer in kids receiving as much love as they can from everybody, you offer Jack a hug before you part ways everytime. Sometimes he says yes, though most times he says, "Thank you, Miss Y/N, but my hug quota is full." 
Today, he squeezes your waist really hard and says, "Have a good day bye," like it's one word.
"Have a good day, baby," you tell him, laughing as he jettisons into the passenger seat of Aaron's car. 
Aaron usually gives you a swift kiss and goodbye like his son. Today, he brings his hand to your neck. You stare him straight in his dark eyes as he does, marvelling the shock of straight lashes outlining each one, and the permanent wrinkle between his brow from frowning. 
Placing two hands on either shoulder, you use his frame to rise on tiptoes and kiss it. 
"Don't frown too much today, okay, handsome? Have a good day." 
He cups your face in both hands as your heels touch the ground. His hands are warm, kind as he pushes both palms over your cheeks and your ears. He covers them, and your heartbeat amplifies, a thumping sound fighting his skin. Then he slips his fingers behind your ears and the roaring fades. 
"I love you," he says. 
You beam at him. "Really?"
"Really. I love you, honey. Have a good day."
As if. If he thinks he can walk away after dropping that on you he's got another thing coming. 
You throw your arms around his neck and all your weight into his front, almost barrelling him over. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your thighs around him, 'cause then he really might fall over. 
You dig your face into his neck, searching for something, for the perfect place to rest your cheek. "I love you, Aaron." 
There isn't a chance in hell he didn't already know it. 
"I got you something," he says. 
You laugh in surprise and tighten your hold on him. "Why? This is gift enough." He loves you. It bounces around in your chest. 
"Because I'm not stupid enough to miss what I have right in front of me." 
You lean back so you can kiss him, ignoring his hand as it reaches into his pocket. 
"Baby," you say, a hair's width from his lips. You kiss him again for a second, thrilled, but curiosity pulls you back. "You have it now?" 
He takes a step away from you and reveals the box in his pocket, long and thin. It clicks open on a silver hinge, and inside velveteen lies a simple chain.
"Is that a diamond?" you ask, breathless. The stone at the end of the chain shines like nothing you've ever seen before. 
You don't know a thing about them other than that they're expensive. You can't see Aaron Hotchner of all people buying a fake. 
"A small one," he says modestly. 
Your eyes burn. You're happy to the point of tears but you refuse to cry. 
"And it's for me?" you ask. 
He laughs and you laugh too, the sound slightly sniffly. 
"Of course. Do you want to wear it?" 
"Now? Yes, more than anything," you say, smiling hard, cheeks appled and aching. "Are you serious?"
"More than anything." 
Corny, you think desperately. Do not cry, that's so cheesy. 
"Are you sure you don't want to wait until my birthday?" 
He gestures for you to turn around, the chain hanging from his finger. You turn, feel his hands brushing against your neck as he lays it across your chest and pulls it together behind your nape. 
"Your birthday gift is better than this." 
Better? You could burst. 
The clasp closes and he rubs his hands down the backs of your shoulders. 
You turn back around, face dipped to your chest in efforts to see the necklace. It's short but long enough to spot the diamond hanging under your collar. 
"I've never had a diamond, before," you mumble, hands pressed to your chest. Your heart bumps under your hand. 
"Thank you," you say, looking up, "baby, you didn't have to. You don't have to get me stuff like this, it's a lot." 
"I don't think it's too much. You give gifts when you're grateful. I'm grateful to love you." 
He's expecting you this time, unwavering when your arms slide over his shoulders. You breathe in the smell of his skin and he does the same, his face pressed to the top of your head.
Jack is late for school that day. You apologise to Aaron more times than you can count, and every time he only smiles and says, "It's okay. I love you." 
+1 
Aaron misses your first anniversary. 
It's a very important date to miss, and you have a right to be upset. 
But. 
You always knew from the very first date that this was something that could, unfortunately, happen. You'd been lucky to get him for your birthday, luckier still to see him on his own and treat him with the delights he deserved. You'd figured eventually something would happen to throw a spanner in the works. 
What you aren't expecting is the lack of anger. 
You aren't mad at him, not one bit. It would be okay if you were, even though it's not his fault, because this is so big. You're celebrating the best year of your life alone, and that's no fun. You and Aaron had planned to go away, two days in a fancy hotel, Jack with Jessica and no worries. 
He can't ignore a bomb threat in the capital, and he wouldn't want to. 
You know a missed anniversary is a lesser weight than innocent people dead. You know Aaron wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't go. You know he regrets leaving you on such an important day. 
Maybe one day, you'll be angry with him. Today, you only miss him. 
I love you. I'm sorry. I'll be back very soon. Happy anniversary. 
He sends that after a grovelling, short phone call, in which you assure him that it's fine. Your voice is tight with tears, you miss him like crazy, and he hears it though you try to hide it. 
I will make it up to you. 
You don't have any doubts. 
You feel a little sorry for yourself, and then you send him a text of your own. 
I love you, so don't be sorry. Get back safe and sound and consider yourself forgiven. Happy anniversary, my love. 
Followed with what's likely too many hearts for good measure. 
Still, still, he doesn't believe it's okay. You know he's human, and he loves you, and that makes it easy to predict how he's feeling — worried that you're angry, worried that you'll leave him, worried this won't work for you. 
And you're only human yourself. You can't say how you'll feel in another year, or two, or five. You can't imagine how depressing it might be to miss the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries with him year after year, but you want to be patient. You want to forgive him for the things he has no hand in, and you do. 
You get a visitors pass for his office once you're cleared and take the elevator up, checking your text messages for the fifth time, just to make sure. 
I'll be home in a couple of hours, the plane touches down in two. Love you. Sent 4.53PM. 
It's the day after your anniversary, a Monday, and it's nearly 7PM. You smile at people you've seen in passing the few times you've visited his office before and don't bother trying to sit in Aaron's office, knowing it's locked while he's away. You travel the spare steps and sit at the top of the landing, hands clutching the neck of the bunch of flowers you're holding nervously. The cellophane crinkles. 
You hadn't answered him. It was cruel to leave him hanging, but you didn't expect him to come home so soon. He's too damn good at his job. 
The elevator doors open in the quiet. Barely anybody lingers now in the late hour, and the voices of the BAU echo. 
Spencer sees you first. Morgan second. They stop at the beginning of the office. 
Aaron sees you third.
You spring to stand up on your feet, and then you feel very tall and very seen and descend the steps rather than draw more attention. 
"You said seven," you say, not sure what else to say, not with people watching you. "This is definitely closer to eight." 
Aaron thankfully isn't too proud to speed walk to you. Your heart skips as you meet him, flowers crushed half to death as he gets his arm behind your neck, hooking your head in the crook of his elbow. 
He kisses you roughly. Heat floods every inch of skin, your breath rushes out of your nose with a sigh. 
He pulls back. 
"Happy anniversary," you say quietly, smiling at the sheer relief in his eyes. 
"It was yesterday," he says, quiet too. 
"Happy one year and one day, then." You push him away from you gently. "Don't suffocate your roses." 
"You got me flowers." 
"You get people gifts when you're grateful," you parrot. 
He takes a step back and accepts the flowers. On the message card, you've written, bashful and clumsy and adoring, I'm grateful to love you. One year and more. 
He moves the bouquet into one hand and wraps you up in another huh, firm-armed, chin over the top of your head, though he intersperses his embrace with dainty kisses pecked from one temple to another. 
"You aren't mad?" he asks, worried about the answer. 
"No," you say honestly. "Not mad. Missed you like crazy yesterday, but I get you today. I can make it work." 
When you break apart a second time, you both buckle under the weight of his colleagues watching.
"Thank you," Rossi speaks up, grand and wry, "we thought we'd have to endure his moping for at least a week. Your understanding spares us all." 
"Nice, Dave," Aaron says. 
"I've got your paperwork, Hotch," Morgan offers. 
Aaron has the good sense to accept it before Morgan can change his mind. His friends say goodbye, and Aaron pulls you by the hand back to the elevator bank. You couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if you tried. 
The elevator doors have barely closed when he's leaning down to kiss you again. 
"Thank you," he says. 
"You really don't have to say thank you," you murmur, bumping your shoulder with his. "You got home safe. That's all that matters." 
His next kiss is bruising. The sound of cellophane crushed between you makes you laugh. He kisses you through it, his smile pressed feverishly to yours, over and over and over.
༺༻
thank you for reading! if you enjoyed please consider reblogging, i promise it makes a difference to me <3
3K notes · View notes
dreamywriter143 · 10 months
Text
Breathtaking
Status: Oneshot?
Parings: Neteyam x Human Reader
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Mentions of Violence, Some blood, Jealousy.
Summary: Y/n grew up with Spider. She played with him, fought with him, ate with him and slept with him. There is nothing they couldn’t do together….well, one thing. And that is leaving the base at any costs. Now, what will happen when Y/n does leave the base? Why had she been trapped in the base for so long? And why did a certain Na’vi take her breath away?
Word Count: 6k (Uh.....sorry😭)
A/N: Ok, I said I’d have my followers special out by now but everything is all over the place. I’m sorry😭😭 This is my first xHumanReader so please enjoy! I’m so sorry for the delay!
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“Then this huge viperwolf jumped on me! I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes until Lo’ak saved my ass” Spider chuckles nervously at the memory.
Currently he is seated in the medical wing as his arm is getting patched up. The gash wasn't too big, but deep enough to sting in pain.
 Y/n frowns at his words, being mindful not to apply too much pressure as she wrapped the gauze around the wound carefully across his bicep. Y/n bites her lips at the stinging pain of worry strikes through her.
“You should be more careful Spider. You cannot be reckless all the time, you cannot expect Lo’ak to always have your back either” Y/n says softly, her eyes wandering over the tiny scratches over his body in worry. Spider scoffs out loud, rolling his eyes at her words. 
“You worry too much Y/n, You don't even know Lo’ak, we have each other's backs” Spider assures, making Y/n sigh out loud. She holds the urge to nudge against his wound out of spite.
“Because I don't know him”
For as long as Y/n had known she had always been in the cold confines of base camp, what she knew to be her home. The only thing she had known truthfully. 
Y/n was born shortly after the war, her father was unknown, but her mother who was a well known medical officer of the team, sadly passed upon her birth. She grew up following Norm and Max around the lab, as they were the only people she felt any sort of connection to. They knew her mother well and raised her alongside Spider, who also couldn't be transported back to Earth due to being so young. 
Though Spider was younger then her by a bit, Y/n always trailed behind him within the lab. She had no other females around her age, it was natural to grow incredibly close to Spider over the years. 
“Well, you should. Next time I'll introduce you! He'd love you, come with me next time I go out” Spider says nonchalantly, not taking notice how Y/n’s shoulders slumped at his words.
 
“Ha Ha , very funny Spider” Y/n spits bitterly, tying up the bandage before turning around and leaving him for the tiny sink where she washed her hands begrudgingly. 
“O-oh,shit, I'm sorry Y/n…I didn't mean to sound…it came out wrong..” Spider apologizes, hopping down from the medical table to walk up to her. Y/n focuses on scrubbing her hands so she couldn't focus on the sadness bubbling within her. 
Y/n grew up alongside Spider, they ate together, played together and slept together while growing up. But Y/n…was different. 
For as long as she could remember, she had never set one foot outside the compound. Y/n even had her quarters on the farside of the base, as if they didn't want her near the entrance at any costs. That's why when Spider would sneak into her room to accompany her, she felt less lonely.
Over the years Y/n grew but not as tall as Spider. Spider was a hunk compared to her much tinier and delicate figure. Y/n always worked out within the base to increase her strength and endurance but she gave that up years ago when she came to the conclusion she would never be able to see the world outside the cold gates. 
Y/n always wondered why she was deprived of something Spider was allowed to do so freely, she would always boil with envy when she walked Spider as close to the gate as Norm would allow her. 
Watching him run off to his freedom only made her mental resolve crumble that much more. It didn't help when Spider would go on and on about his adventures. Y/n would always aggressively chew her food to drown out his words during communal dinners. 
Y/n had learned to tune out his words from time to time, but how can she when he was living what she dreamt about day in and day out?
When she questioned Norm and Max why she couldn't leave, they would claim it's because she is too delicate, that there are toxins and dangerous creatures out there her body could not handle and Spider could because he left the compound at such an early age.
Y/n chalked it up to something deeper they are not telling her, based on the constant blood tests and X-rays they conducted on her for ‘check ups’ when she never even stepped outside the facility. 
She never did question them too much on the tests, why would she? They wanted what was best for her, and she had no place to argue. Maybe she was, as they claimed, ‘delicate’. 
When they compared Y/n’s stature and physical maturity against Spider, they claimed it was for her safety that she didn't leave. That she wouldn’t be able to defend herself and that her body is more delicate than others. She was the only girl her age, the only young human girl in Pandora and they didn’t want to take a chance. 
Y/n always kicked herself for being room ridden in her early years that led her to not get used to the outside world. Always drinking in logs of her mother and Grace Augustine. She also convinced Max if she could see Jake Sully’s logs, which she was grateful for. The current Olo’eyktan, was a human like her. And now he is living his truth amongst his people out there. 
“It's fine, I'm not bothered by it anymore” Y/n says harshly, spinning around as Spider grabs her shoulders. He looks down at her apologetically.
“No, it's on me. I shouldn't even be telling you about my day when you….” he trails off frowning.
“No! No, it's fine Spider. I love listening to your adventures. Honestly. It's my form of entertainment and I love watching you happy” Y/n says smiling up at the taller boy.
Despite this Y/n always tried to stay positive, always helping around with research, helping maneuver samples and making sure the tanks are full for the exo packs they would take outside for excursions and for Spider’s constant usage. Y/n tried to be as helpful as possible, all to divert her attention from the void she felt deep within.
Her free time always consisted of watching logs, watching how her mother spoke about the Na’vi with excitement. Her mother had helped the clan recuperate after the war, helping alongside Mo’at with the injured. Y/n’s mother had even gotten close with Neytiri, the wife of Jake Sully. Her mother was also involved in Neytiri’s firstborn’s delivery. 
Y/n watched in amazement everytime memorizing how her mother spoke fondly about the world, the beauty that basked her in awe all the time. Y/n couldn't help but desire that as well. Fantasize about going out, running across the forest floor with no limits or the chance of running into a cold wall. She craved freedom. Craved adventure. Something more. Something beyond her personal prison. 
“Y/n! There you are!” Norm peeks into the medical wing, his hand gripping a tablet as he eyes Spiders wrapped arm in worry. Spider shows a thumbs up to clear his concern as he turns his attention back to Y/n.
“Can you double check on the exo-pack’s when you have time? The filters need to be cleaned and the power supply pack needs to be changed. Think you can do that for me?” He asks, offering a tiny pleading smile. Y/n forces down her pent up sadness and manages a tiny nod.
“Max told me to check them earlier. I just have a few left” She explains to which Norm sighs out in relief. “Good, did you fix pack #8? That one was almost busted the last time I saw it” Y/n waves him off, she wasn't in the mood to go back to recharding and cleaning the exo-packs, the very thing they needed to survive the outside world. The very thing she wishes she had the opportunity to use. 
“Yes, no worries. I’ll get them done!” Y/n reassures as Norm nods once more before ducking down to head for the laboratory. Y/n sighs out once he is out of earshot. She turns to Spider who had been quite the entire time. 
“Ok...wanna have dinner together?’ Spider asks, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. Y/n smiles at Spider, her dear friend she grew up to love and cherish as a brother. 
“I’d love that, my room or yours?” Y/n asks, taking his larger hand into hers as she tugs him towards the kitchen.
“Yours, you have a more comfortable bed”
~~~~~~
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“I’m off!” Spider calls out quickly grabbing an exo pack and securing it tightly against his face. Hearing his declaration and watching him walk towards the exit, Y/n scurries to his side, glancing at the watch on her wrist as she frowns deeply. 
“Are you insane! It's already nightfall!!” She hisses. She rolls her eyes noting how Norm and Max didn't seem bothered by the fact that Spider wanted to go out again, and this late into the day, the sun had already set a while ago which meant the dangers of the night would be out on the prowl. 
“So what? Kiri wanted to show me some cool bioluminescent plants. We can only see them when the sun has set anyways” Spider shrugs, tightening the pack against his back. Y/n bites her lips furiously, her nostrils flaring in a mix of anger and worry for the boy. 
“Spider, seriously? It's only been 3 days, and your wound hasn't fully healed yet. What if you run into trouble?” She rants, trying to stand in Spider’s way crossing her arms in frustration. Spider sighs out loud, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. 
“We won't be going too far out and I have this-” He gestures to the bow slung across his chest. Y/n raises an eyebrow, glancing at his injured arm as if to answer his statement . He playfully rolls his eyes, sidestepping her and quickly walking past her. 
“I’ll be fine Y/n, quit worrying!” He calls back, walking towards the entrance with determination. Y/n sighs out realizing she wouldn't hear the end of it if she took another step closer to the entrance especially since Norm and Max were in her line of vision. She throws her hands up in annoyance, turning to Max who simply offers a tiny smile. 
“Seriously? You're allowing this?” Y/n asks her cheeks flushed in worry. 
At this point Y/n didn't know what egged her to react in such a way. Was it a worry for Spider’s safety? Was it anger towards the ‘adults’ in the lab that allowed him to venture out so late? Or the more likely option, was it jealousy? Jealous over the fact that Spider could go out, and she can't. 
“Relax Y/n, it's not the end of the world. Let the boy live a little” Max says teasingly which caused the tiny girl to fume. 
‘Then, why can I live a little?’
Hearing the entrance lock from a few feet behind her Y/n whips around to leave the lab, intending on going to her room to watch her mother logs. Watching her mothers calming logs always helped calm her down. 
“Wait! Y/n?!” Norm calls from his seat, causing the girl to stop right outside the door. She glances back, her eyes cold and unwavering.
“Yes?” she asks in a monotone, not feeling in the mood to listen to what he had to say. “Did you check the exo-packs like I asked the other day?” He asks, not noting how Y/n looked ready to kill at this point. 
“Of course, now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go to my room” Y/n easily lies before marching out of the lab. Max glances at Norm who had a questioning look on his face. 
“The rebellious stage?” Norm asks, tapping his pen against his lips 
“I'd say more like just fluctuating hormones?” Max offers, glancing back at where she had stormed off to.
“Thank god I don't have children of my own”
 
“Norm….Y/n and Spider are practically our children…”
~~~~~
“No”
Y/n’s hands scurry over the hanger, rechecking the packs in her arms, her heart beating a mile per minute.
“No, no no no, where are you?” Y/n whispers to herself, her eyes jumping around as if it would magically appear in front of her.
 
After gloating in her room for half an hour Y/n decided to finally finish up her duty to clean and recharge the exo packs. She had been rather lazy the past few days, lazy to the point she kept putting off the chore entirely. 
The moment she arrived back to the lab it was empty, everyone must have left for their quarters or for dinner, a perfect time to quickly finish her work and be on her way to her room again. But unfortunately for her, life wasn't going to be that easy. 
She remembered leaving a few packs to do later, but one was missing. The very same pack Norm had emphasized on, the defective and nearly beaten up exo pack. #8. 
She looked around aimlessly, double checking the logbook to see if anyone had mistakenly taken the pack out. But she knew no one would be out this late. And if things couldn't get any worse, there were no loose packs lying around. No one would have mistakenly placed it anywhere. And the recycling system didn't have it either so no one decided on throwing out the defective pack. 
Which only left one, bone chilling conclusion.
 
“Shit…Spider” 
Y/n looks at the entrance a few feet away. Before the entrance seemed to shine, it seemed to always glow in her eyes. But right now, it looked menacing, scary even. It was the very same door Spider had run out of not too long ago, wearing the defective mask. 
Y/n feels sweat drip down her forehead, her eyes widening in fear. Due to her laziness, her foolishness. Spider was going to die. And all because of her. 
The exo packs would be good for a few hours even if they are near to running out of power, or even if the filter needed to be changed. But Y/n knew about that mask, #8 was defective. That mask should have been discarded weeks ago. And she knew Spider didn't have hours, he had minutes left. 
“What have I done? '' Y/n shakily covers her mouth, covering up her sobs as she feels the weight of her mistake weigh down on her. She couldn't seem to form a coherent thought  as she sobs out of sheer pain and guilt that shook her body. 
Just as her sobs die down she glances at the entrance one more time, before mindlessly grabbing two exo packs. She slings one across her arms carefully while placing the other one over her face, securing the mask snugly and slinging her arms through the power pack. She held the extra pack close to her, taking tentative steps towards the entrance. The closer she got, the faster her heart rang against her chest.
She knew Norm and Max would be devastated if they found out Spider was in danger , or worse dead because of Y/n. And she couldn't, wouldn’t live with his blood on her hands. She nears the entrance, her hands shakily reaching out to firmly grasp the cold handle. 
She didn't know how, she didn't know if she had the ability. But she would rather die trying than sit in the lab waiting for the inevitable.
She was determined to find Spider. Wherever he may be.
 
Glancing back at the empty lab once more she turns her exo pack on, taking in a deep breath. The hum of the power supply working flawlessly vibrates against her back comfortably. 
Locking the airlock she opens the door, shutting it behind her with force as she runs into the unknown forest ahead. 
Not sparing a glance back at her so-called; prison. 
~~~~~~~~
Y/n had been wandering around aimlessly as her feet carried her deeper and deeper into the forest. She didn't have the time to bask in the beauty of the forest she had desired for long as her worry and fear for Spider clouded her vision. 
Her eyes darted around, the bioluminescent plants aiding her in her quest through the dense forest filled with twigs and foliage that crushed under her hurried steps. 
“S-shit” 
Y/n comes to a stop in a clearing, resting her hand against the tree beside her to catch her breath. She had never run so far, and for such a long duration in her entire life. She felt her legs tremble under form as if it couldn't hold her upper body weight any longer. Her breaths came out in gasps occasionally fogging up her face plate. 
At the rate she was going she didn't know if she had a chance to even find Spider. Feeling all the adrenaline drain from her body, she slumps against the large tree, sliding down to sit on the cold forest floor beneath. Her eyes trail over the beauty as she tries to regulate her breathing, her eyes glimmering with  mild excitement. 
For a moment, she forgot that Spider was in danger. 
For a moment, she felt like she was dreaming. 
Her fingers clutch the leaves underneath her, they felt so soft yet rough at the same time, her eyes catching the various plants that glow and glimmer in the dead of the night. It was an indescribable beauty. Y/n found herself realizing  her mother had not done justice when describing the beauty of Pandora in her logs. 
Pandora was not simply beautiful; It was breathtaking.
 
Y/n smiles softly to herself, her eyes taking in the beauty of the night. She couldn't imagine how it would look during the day. What she would do to stay out and wait it out till day break. 
Her thoughts are cut short when she notices a small glittering thing float down to her from high above the treeline. She watches curiously, her legs regaining some strength as she shakily stands up, her grip on the extra exo pack for Spider secure. She stands to her full fight as if to meet the floating object halfway. 
A surprised gasp leaves her lips as realizes the beautiful being was floating down to her, her face flashing with recognition. The seed came mere inches away from her face.
Y/n shakily lifts her free arm towards it, facing her palm up. Staying perfectly still. The pure spirit hoes on to land on her palm swiftly, as if it intended on landing on her hand in the first place. Y/n giggles softly feeling the tiny tendrils tickle against her bare skin. 
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“You're a Atokirina” (Woodsprite) Y/n whispers out quietly,  as if weary of scaring the delicate being. She watches how the seed stays on her hand, fluttering occasionally but staying put. What a beautiful sight, she felt her heart soar.
Y/n had learned a lot through her many ‘lessons’, from Norm and the logs. About the importance of a woodsprite and its meaning. She had also learned they were pure spirits and considered scared. Y/n bites her lips softly as a thought crosses her mind. Taking a moment to contemplate her question she takes a deep breath.
 
“I've lost a dear friend of mine…Spider, will you help me find him?” Y/n whispers, feeling silly for asking a favor out loud. She watches how the seed flutters at her request, floating up at her words. Taking this as a sign, Y/n pushes her wobbly legs to follow the floating woodsprite across the clearing and near a patch of bushes. 
She comes to a halt noticing how the woodsprite started to float upwards, floating further and further away. She tilts her head in question. Did it want her to continue on straight? Straight through and deeper into the forest? 
Y/n glances back at the bush in front of her, her eyes catch the slight movement between the leaves. Her heart jumps at the movement. Was it Spider? Was he in the bushes? 
Feeling like she had no other option she slowly comes closer towards the bush, watching the rustling increase the closer it got. She couldn’t help but feel fear ping inside of her as she came closer, her feet practically tip toeing against the forest floor. 
‘If it was Spider, why hasn't he come out yet?’ 
Gulping loudly she reaches out her free hand to move the leaves for a better view but within a blink of eye she is harshly pushed down to the ground. 
The extra pack flies away at the impact of her landing harshly against the forest floor, her back pressed down by a heavy weight. The deep growl makes Y/n’s  blood run cold. 
Her eyes widen in unbridled fear as she stares into the eyes of an angry viperwolf. Out of fear she trashes against the beast, screaming in fear which only agitated the creature who snaps its fangs at her. 
Tears pool along her irises as her body gives in, to warn out to fully fight back. She feels the creature get closer to her face, the warning growls disappearing as its eyes square down into her smaller form. 
She scrunched her eyes shut, waiting for it all to end in a second. 
Spider was right, your life does flash before your eyes. And all Y/n saw was her sad self, staring at her own reflection with no purpose. An empty shell of herself. No goals, no ambitions. Nothing. All because she was denied such freedom. 
Y/n feels her body relax. Maybe this was what she needed? Maybe this was meant to be? 
She silently prays when all of the sudden the weight is lifted off of her. 
Her eyes snapped open as she scurried to sit up. Y/n eyes widen in shock, her jaw going slacked as she watches the viperwolf snap defensively against her saviour. 
She drinks in the sight of a Na’vi male, and not just any male. A really tall Navi, his broad back facing her as he wrestled against the viperwolf. She catches a glint of a knife that was lodged into the creature as it whines in pain. 
Y/n had never seen a Na’vi up close before, sure she had scanned over files and pictures. She even got to interact with some of the avatars. But this. This was new. This was a true Na’vi. And he had saved her.
Y/n crawls over to the abandoned exo pack that had gone flying when she was thrown to the ground, making sure it wasn't damaged as she looks it over. Sighing in relief, she glances over at  the Na’vi as he looms over the now dead viperwolf, whispering something in their native language as he pulls out the knife. Cleaning it if it’s blood.
“T-thank you” 
Y/n whispers, taking tiny straps to get a bit closer to the now crouched male. At the sound of her voice he visually stiffens, his grip on the knife tightening as he sheaths back into its casing across his belt 
Not receiving a response Y/n clears her throat, she wanted to wipe her face of the tears that had slipped past her eyes at her near death experience. But the mask proved to be a barrier at the moment. 
“Thank you for saving me” Y/n tries again. This time she takes a cautious step back when the male whips around, standing up immediately to his full height towering over her. Y/n craned her neck to get a glimpse of his face, her breath hitched upon taking in his features. 
He must have been the most beautiful, handsome Na’vi Y/n had ever seen. The markings and stripes along his face displayed beautifully, his yellow eyes shining bright as they pierced into her soul, his locks braided neatly and laying past his shoulders. Decorated with beads and pearls. 
And his lips, so nicely shaped and perfect, Y/n found herself getting lost in them. But from the looks of it, he wasn’t smiling at her. No. He was frowning, his eyes burning with what looked to be anger. 
“Thank??” He growls slowly, pointing his index finger towards Y/n in accusation. His English accent thick. 
“You thank?? For this?!” He hisses, his ears flattened against his head. Y/n flinches at his tone, looking over at the viperwolf that attacked her earlier. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she realized he had killed a creature, a native creature for her. 
“I’m sorry…I-”
Y/n looks back at the handsome stranger, noting how his shoulders relax a bit at her apology. 
(A/N: The rest of the dialogue is in Navi)
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way. Create a…conflict” Y/n says in Na’vi. Though it was broken and missing some words, the male seems to relax fully once she speaks to him his mother tongue. 
Once she had grown interested in the Na’vi culture Y/n had made Norm’s life a living hell until he taught her how to speak. She could understand almost everything after many years of practice, it was her speaking that needed improvement, 
“Why did you save me?” She asks, her voice shaky from the event that had unfolded. The male grunts at her question, choosing to look anywhere else but her. His tail twitches under her stare. 
“Because Ewya seems to have chosen you…for what. I don’t know”  he explained. Y/n eyes widen at his words. Had he been watching her the entire time? From the moment she walked into the clearing? And she hasn't known of his presence? He must be a warrior, judging by his stature, his precision and skills. 
“I’m truly sorry, it was foolish of me to provoke him…” She wipers apologetically. The male's eyes twitch upwards, taking in her world. 
The male shuffles a little, the storm behind his eyes seems to calm down at her words. He seems to contemplate something before looking over to her, his expression much more relaxed than before but still hard. 
“Where are you from?” he demands, but much softer than before. He looked stiff, ready to defend himself if need be, but the original hostility had dispersed once he saw the sincerity behind her apology, 
“I-I’m from the base camp, a good way away from here. I work with…Norm and Max?” Y/n explains, peering up at the giant. Y/n thought it best she use the names of her guardians who she knew were known amongst the Omatikaya. She used their names hoping for the male to calm down, and luckily it worked perfectly, 
The male's tail twitches at the names mentioned, a flash of recognition crossing his face. He lets out a grunt as he glances around the clearing.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone tawtute. I will escort you back so you may not cause anymore trouble. Is that clear?” (Human) The male says sternly, his eyes completely calm but filled with authority. Not waiting for her response he turns his back on her, taking two strides waiting for her to follow him. 
Y/n thought he was around her age, but his tone and choice of words, how he held himself made him seem older. That, or he was that of nobility. 
“I can’t!” She quickly objects.
 
The male halts his steps, peering over his shoulder with an unamused look on his face. He sighs out, 
“Why not tawtute. Do you want to die? It’s dangerous and you have nothing to defend yourself,” he warns. 
“My friend….My friend is in danger, I’m looking for him” Y/n holds the extra pack up as his eyes trace over the human invention. His nose slightly scrunches at the sight but he waits for her to further explain. 
“He left with a defective exo pack, if I do not deliver this to him in time he will die.” She says stepping closer to him. The male stiffens at her close proximity, his heart rate quickens as his nostrils fill up with her scent,  which he chooses to ignore. 
“Another tawtute? In the forest? It’s really late in the night, he’s probably already dead” he states, his tone holding traces of sympathy. 
Y/n eyes widen at his words. Had she truly been late, it’s true it’s been a while since he had left, the exo pack couldn’t have malfunctioned at any time. Was it all for nothing?
“N-no! I can’t let that happen. He’s alive, I feel it-” Y/n places her hand over her heart for emphasis. “Spider, he can-“ 
“Spider?!” The male jolts at the familiar name. His eyes light up on high alert causing Y/n to be taken aback.
 
“Y-yes, Spider! Do you know him!” She confirms, taking a step closer to the Na’vi. The male glances back at the exo pack one more time before offering his large hand out for her. 
“Come” 
~~~~~~~
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The male Navi pulls Y/n along with him as she walks quickly through the forest. Y/n desperately tried to keep up, her lungs burning at the sensation of her rapid pace. 
Y/n tried to get the male to give her some space, to let her run freely by his side as him pulling her seemed to pose a problem. But the only response she got were grunts of acknowledgement and nothing more, 
“C-can we slow down?”  Y/n asks, her chest heaving with every breath she tries to take. The male stops, turning towards her. His eyes burning with determination, his tail swishing behind me. 
“You tawtute are slow, weak. If you don’t hurry we won’t find him” the male hisses. Y/n realizes this male must be one of Spider’s friends. He recognized him the moment she mentioned him, and the urgency in his actions proved he cared for him. 
“I’ll try to keep up. Can I please walk on my own?” Y/n pleads, the arm that had been tugged at for the past few minutes throbbing with pain. 
The male scoffs, the tiniest smile playing along his lips. “Fine, do what you want tawtute, but move with haste” the male turns around taking a few steps but much slower this time to accommodate her speed. 
“I have a name!” Y/n huffs out.
 
“Oh? What might that be?” There is a small trace of amusement in his tone as he keeps walking forward. Y/n glances down at her footing. Being mindful where she placed her feet on the huge branch as she didn’t want to fall. It wasn't a big drop, but it was big enough to break a bone or two. 
“Y/n. My name is Y/n” she wheezes out. The male hums at her response, satisfied that she answered to him so quickly, 
“Y/n…Mhm…” the male says her name causing Y/n’s steps to falter. The way her name rolled off his tongue, so elegantly it seemed to cause her heart to skip a beat. The deep baritone voice only made him sound that much more….attractive.
“What's your-”
Y/n was so lost in her thoughts she misplaced her next step. Y/n screams in fear feeling her leg slip from under her, she is able to see how the male Na’vi whips around to the sound of her scream, rushing to catch her in time but to no avail. Y/n’s fingers slip past his by a few mere centimeters as she tumbled towards the forest floor. She landed with a huge thump, landing on her face. 
“Y/n!”
Y/n groans in pain, struggling to sit back up. Luckily nothing felt broken, but her entire body screamed in protest as aches and pain took over her body. She held her breath to calm her racing heart. Just as Y/n tries to stand up, the male jumps down to her side. He crouches down to her level assessing her for any injuries with a worried look. 
“Woah, that was a scare! Talk abou-hmpfhghaa?”
 
Y/n’s words get caught off as the males' large hands cover her mouth. Y/n eyes widen at the action, her face heating up at the feeling of his warm hand over her mouth. His hand was big enough to cover her entire face if he wanted to. But all she could focus on was the way his body heat radiated off of  his soft hand.
‘He feels so warm…..wait…warm?’ 
Y/n feels her heart drop to her stomach realizing why she felt his hand press firmly against her mouth. 
Her mask had broken clean off. Her face was fully bare.
 
If it weren't  for his hand she would have inhaled the toxic air. Dying in an instant.
“Mhdgjpfff!” 
The male's expression is filled with worry, his eyes dancing around for the extra pack she had with her for Spider. Unable to find it near them he growls in frustration. It might have slipped from Y/n’s fingers when she had fallen. Such luck. 
“Can you hold your breath? Do you think you can hold your breath till the base Y/n? Forget Spider, let me carry you back to your base!” The male says urgently, his face showing emotions he didn’t show earlier. Y/n ignored how her heart rate accelerated at him saying her name so freely. 
Her eyes mist over realizing this was the end. She shakes her head, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it, and with the extra pack not in sight it was as if she was meant to perish. Like everything that has happened today, happened for a reason. 
The Na’vi shakes his head in denial, refusing to take no for an answer.
 
“No, there must be something. Another way” He glances at the sky, he would call his Ikran but the question still stands. Would she be able to hold her breath for that long? 
Y/n smiles at the male, her tiny fingers reaching up to grab his hand, trying to tug his hand free from his hold. . 
The male shakes his head, refusing to remove his hand. Y/n feels herself get light headed  from the lack of oxygen. If this is what fate had in store for her, she was willing to allow it.
 
Noticing how her eyes got droopy, the male pulled Y/n into him, having her head rest against his free arm while she sat against his lap. 
He looks down at her with sadness, his eyes staring into her e/c eyes realizing there was nothing he could do. He felt utterly useless. 
Y/n nods assuringly as she is finally able to pull away his hand. The male closed his eyes, he didn’t want to watch her in physical pain in her last few moments. A shaky sigh escaped his lips. Y/n looks up at the star's above, her eyes closing to a shut. 
Y/n thanks the gods above for letting her see the forest for the first time, and for meeting a Na’vi at the first try. In a way she got to experience everything she desired in the span of one day, and that made her happy. 
She takes a deep breath and……
Nothing happens. 
Her lungs fill in with the air around her as her eyes snap open. The male peeks his eyes open as well hearing her gasp in surprise, his  widened as he watches her able to breathe the air around her. His air. The air that was supposed to be…toxic. 
Y/n smiles wide, sitting up straighter. She can breathe fine, in fact the air seems lighter as it travels through her, better than oxygen! She could breathe Pandora air! Had the great mother spared her life?
“W-hat?!” Y/n sits up fully now, still within his grasp. The Na’vi’s eyes bore into her in shock and surprise as she wiggled what was left of her mask off her face. She adjusted her hair and moved it from face as she inhaled deeply. 
“I…I’m not dead!” She declares, turning to fully to face the male. She squeaks in surprise when she realizes how close their faces were from one another as she is practically resting over his lap. She shyly looks into his eyes, him staring back at her in awe. 
The male's eyes widen at her , fully taking in her beauty. He hadn't noticed her when he was blinded by anger, or when he began to worry over his friend Spider.  
Now that he had her in his arms, he realized he didn’t want to let her go. He was able to see everything, and up close. The mask that seemed to hide her beauty finally gone, showing him what he had missed. What he had been blind to see before.
“W-what’s your name?” Y/n asks, beginning to shy away from his intense stare up close. Maybe she looked silly with her messy hair and puffy eyes? 
The male breathes in, a genuine smile twitching along his lips.
“Neteyam,…my name is Neteyam”
 
And for the first time in forever, Neteyam felt completely breathless. 
___________________________________
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think and if you'd like a Pt2?
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eyesxxyou · 5 months
Text
Just Talkin'
{★} .. hobie brown x black!reader
rating. mature
word count. 3.1k
synopsis. you broke up with hobie for reasons out of your control and it seems as if he's intent on making you regret it.
・.❕ warning. you are a mess, oral (f receiving), smut is short cuz it's not the focus, body shots cuz why not, a LOT of angst
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You can't believe you're here…with him.
Your eyes shift across the room, always somehow landing upon his tall, lanky figure sitting on a pillow with a joint between his fingers and a perpetual chuckle in his throat. Nothing ever funny enough to elicit a full laugh, always a breezy chuckle.
You sip on your drink, barely listening to your friend telling you about how her partner was being an asshole as always and how she thinks she should break up with him (she never does). Your gaze doesn't linger on Hobie or you'd give yourself away.
You agreed to be friends, you agreed to keep his secret being Spider-Man. You made up lies for him on a dime just to protect him to which he'd always thank you with a wink and one of those smiles he knows you used to swoon over. "Thanks, luv." He'd whisper in your ear, tossing his arm over your shoulders to pull you in close. Then he'd disappear all together.
Why did you two have to have the same friend group? Why did every outing have to mean being forced to be in close proximity to him? It was your decision haunting you, whispering in your ear that you should have never broken up with him because it seemed he was now intent on making every interaction hell for you.
Did you know that every time you look away, he looks at you, stealing glances far more discreet than yours? His gaze caresses your face, your lips, the curve of your body. He takes a drag of his joint and smiles to himself because he sees that you're still wearing that necklace he gifted you. Your fingers fiddled with it subconsciously, twisting at the small tube that contained a single, preserved rose petal within it.
It was another one of your shared friend's ideas to do body shots. Everyone was in enthusiastic agreement besides you and Hobie. He didn't say anything about it, went along with it anyway because that's just who he was. You on the other hand sat where you were while everyone else got into a circle on the floor. You didn't want to play, didn't want to see Hobie with his lips and tongue all over someone else's body or see one of your friends do the same to him.
"I'll sit this one ou', mates." Hobie saw your reluctance to play and instantly knew why. "Y/N don' wanna play so I'll stay ou' to make i' even." He's a good liar like that, convincing with his nonchalant manner of going about things. That's why he was able to keep being Spider-Man a secret for so long. You would have never found out if not for him straight up telling you a few months into your relationship. It's also how you two were able to keep your relationship a secret from your friends for as long as it lasted. Now it was a matter of keeping your breakup a secret as well.
He stood up and came over to the couch where you sat. You wished he wouldn't as he sat down beside you and tossed an arm across the back of the couch behind your head. He leaned into you, smelling of weed, natural musk, and cologne that made you want to lean into him and press your face into the side of his neck.
Instead you shuffle away from him slightly so your bodies weren’t pressed so snuggly together. “You don’t have to sit out for me.” You murmur under your breath just loud enough for only him to hear. “You don’t own me anything.”
“I know, dove.” He took another drag before reaching over your body to tap off the excess ashes into the ashtray beside you. “Jus’ don’ gotta partna play wit’ now do I?” His fingers played with your hair like he always used to do. It’s like nothing changed for him. Why didn’t he hate you for breaking up with him? Why didn’t he despise you for trying to make him choose between you and being Spider-Man?
“I’ll play if you do.” He whispers in your ear with one of those wicked smiles across his pretty, dark lips. You turn to look at him, looking into those eyes you still adored that dare you to commit. He’s in it if you are. And oh, how you’re still so weak to him. Even after months of being separated.
“Fine.” You looked to your friends, already pouring a shot on one of them. “We’re joining.” You got up and slid down on the floor with Hobie in pursuit, sitting across from you.
It was getting rowdy quickly, everyone cheering and coaxing each other on as you played. Lips on bodies, tongues and laughter, smacking when someone got too frisky, more laughter. You were all drunk and or high. It was all fun and games for you.
Until it was your turn. That’s when you sobered up. You had already agreed to be the human shot glass and there was no turning back now. Hobie was already putting out his joint in a nearby ashtray while your friend coaxed you into taking off your shirt. You did, wringing it in your hands as you laid back and a shot of tequila was poured out on the flat of your naval. It's cold, makes you shiver softly. But nothing will make you shiver more than Hobie climbing up between your legs, his hands on your waist as he looks at you. 'You okay?' His gaze asks and you nod just subtly enough to give him the okay to continue.
You have no idea why you put yourself in a situation like this, with Hobie's lips latching to your naval, slurping up the tequila from your frame, his hot tongue lavishing over your heated skin. Were you desperate for pain? Were you craving that lingering feeling of regret over breaking up your relationship?
His eyes looked up into yours, hands stroking sides, pulling you a little closer. His teeth graze your flesh, tongue lapping up the last lingering sting of tequila off your skin. You could have moaned if not for all the people around you, pulled him up and forced your lips against his. He would have never refused it, would have welcomed it like the old lover you are.
You were overwhelmed by it all, all the eyes on you, laughing and cheering the two of you on. Hobie's hands, his teeth, his lips, his tongue. Every movement sending tremors through you that you know he can feel. His hot gaze looks through you like glass and you can't stand the way he reads you so thoroughly because you're an open book for him.
You sit up abruptly, pushing Hobie back as you stand and swiftly march away with your shirt in your hands. You couldn't bear it. It was too much. Your friends probably thought you had lost it, murmuring amongst themselves asking what your deal was.
You shut yourself off in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your belly was still wet with his saliva, a firm frown etched itself across your lips. You looked disappointed in yourself, for causing such a scene, for letting anything like that happen in the first place, for even agreeing to remain friends with Hobie knowing that feelings were still running high and would for a very long time.
There was a knock on the door and you quickly began to put your shirt back on. "Hold on!"
"Ya need help there?"
God, why did they have to send him to check up on you? Why him?
"No, fuck off, Hobie." You could hear the door click closed behind him as you pulled your shirt over your head and slid your arms through the sleeves. "That shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have played that game with you. Why are you even here?" You turn back and see him all leaned up against the door with that nonchalant demeanor that instantly makes anyone and everyone feel non-judged and seen, seen as much as they want to be. He doesn't pry or pick, it's whatever you want and it irritates the hell out of you because it makes it so hard not to want to kiss him.
"T' check on ya." He shrugged as if it were obvious. "You kinda freaked out there. Jus' wan'ed t' make sure you were okay… Here as a frien' or whateva."
"I'm fine, you can leave now."
"Are you?"
Your eyes shoot daggers at him and he takes it with a smile, arms crossed over his chest. He looks so pretty, with his crop top that shows off his firm naval and happy trail, those lips, those hips, those pretty eyes.
Sometimes you wonder why you broke up with him in the first place. He's never done you wrong, never cheated, never lied beyond hiding he was Spider-Man, never made you feel unloved. Then you remember the anxiety you’d get every time he went out, the debilitating sort, the fear that he might not come back from saving the day. There was the pain of having to clean up his wounds after a fight, clean bloody noses, haphazardly stitch up the deeper gashes with your sewing needle, kissing bruises. Watching him ache for days after the more grueling fights. It was too much for you to handle. You couldn’t do it anymore.
“Why don’t you hate me?” Your voice was soft, hushed as your gaze softened with something bordering on sorrow. “I mean– I ruined something that was perfectly good. Why don’t you hate me for leaving you?” He should want nothing to do with you and yet, he was still here, still in your ear, in your gaze, in your heart.
Hobie shrugged again. His smile faded slowly, fingers picking and peeling at the chipped, black nail polish glossy on his fingertips. “You had ya reasons, luv. Valid reasons. I could neva be mad at you f’ tha’. Plus… I could neva hate’cha. No matter what’cha do, dove.” He stood up straight, came in close, and gently reached out to caress the side of your cheek with his fingertips.
You leaned into his touch. The warmth of his hands contrasting the cool of his rings made you sigh. You looked up at him and he looked down at you and all you could think was how much you missed him.
You got up on your toes and pulled Hobie down to ease your lips onto his. He did not resist you just as you anticipated, he leaned into you, pressed you against the sink counter until your ass was on the surface of it and he was standing between your knees. His lips sought after yours, tongue begging for entrance into you mouth which you grant him without so much as a second thought.
Your hand finds his and your fingers laced together as he sunk his tongue into your mouth and strokes it against yours. He made you moan softly against his lips, your fingers wringing at his, your other hand on his waist as pulling him all the closer.
"Hobie." You whisper, pulling away just enough that your lips hover over his. He smells so good, so much like him that it makes you delirious. Hobie's still stealing pecks from you, humming softly like something of a purr against your lips. "We shouldn't–"
"'m still in love wit' you."
There's a beat of silence after he lets it slip. It's no surprise, he makes it so very clear that he's not over you. And he knows so vividly that you're not over him either. He can feel it. "I know ya couldn't handle i'. 'M no' askin' ya to come back to me. But please, don' tell me you're over me tha' quickly." He chuckled softly, almost sorrowfully as he kissed you again. His hands were under your shirt, heavy and warm against your skin as he strokes circles with his thumbs into your flesh. "Don't tell me tha'."
He pulls you to the edge of the counter, presses you against him. You moan softly with your back arching towards him. A familiar warmth began to grow between your thighs where he pressed himself. Hobie slid his tongue back into your mouth agape and loved you the way he always did, with tongue and teeth and soft, soft lips.
When you parted – panting – a soft whine escaping you, Hobie got down on his knees and lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the soft flesh of your belly. His lips placed tender, wet kisses against your heated skin. His fingertips traced the waist of your pants, his way of tenderly asking permission to continue.
You nodded, swaying, dizzy and drunk on love. You watch him swiftly undo the button and work down the zipper of your fly. You help him lazily, lifting yourself up to help him as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion and let them fall to the floor in front of him.
He was swift, tongue against your aching cunt before you even knew what was happening. You slapped your hand over your mouth before you could moan too loudly as his mouth explored what was always his to keep. His hands massaged your inner thighs, keeping them open and not clamping down on his head as you always seemed to do.
He was always so good with his tongue, stroking your clit with the tip of it before finding his way lower to your soaked entrance. He moaned into your cunt, whispering soft praises against your swollen bud. "Fuck– I missed you, baby. Miss this cunt too."
You missed this, you missed him, everything about him. Was it worth it? Was he worth all the uncertainty he caused? He told you himself that he wasn’t asking for you back. He’d never try to pressure you back into a relationship if that’s not what you wanted because he’s just a good person like that. And now you’re wondering even more why you ever wanted to break up in the first place.
He tongue fucked you nice and slow, his nose nudging your clit while his eyes fluttered at the taste of you. He missed your taste on his tongue, the way you struggled to stifle your moans so your friends around the corner wouldn't hear.
Your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered with pleasure. "Hobie please." You whispered out a soft whine, desperately attempting to rut your hips against his face. His large hands pressed your hips down, kept you still and placid for him. He looked up at you behind dark, low lids and hummed against your wanting cunt with something akin to pleasure.
Your hands grasped his shirt as you began to pull him up and away from your wanton pussy. He stood back between your legs, the pads of his fingers finding your clit to stroke while his lips returned to yours. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, your arousal, how much you missed him.
He rubbed your clit messily, fingers wet with your slick dripping on the counter. "My pretty girl, my pretty, pretty girl." Hobie cooed against your lips as you moaned against his. Your body rolled and shivered with each pinch and flick of his skilled fingers and Hobie adored every moment of it.
"Still so sensitive." He played your clit like he'd play with the strings of his guitar, with swift skill and intimate knowledge of all your parts. He knew just how to move to make you lose your mind.
Your arms were around his neck, pulling him in, holding him close, adoring his scent and the small scars on his otherwise smooth skin. Hobie pressed his body against yours with his hand between you, fingers teasing at your entrance but never going all the way. He knew the anticipation alone was enough, combined with the pad of his thumb against your tender rosebud.
Your breath quickened with the beginnings of your orgasm. It's been months since you've felt his touch. It was no surprise that you'd cum quick. Hobie chuckled softly at you, at how cute you were when you were about to cum. The way you'd whine so needily for him to make it quick or take his time. He could feel the ache of your pussy and knew you were so close, just on the cusp of relief.
"I love you, Hobie. I love you so, so much." Your cried against his mouth. "'m sorry I left you. I'm so sorry." You were on the cusp of tears, kissing him feverishly as he coaxed your through your orgasm, fingers circling your entrance and his thumb weighing on your pulsing clit. You babbled on and on about how much you missed him and how you wished you never left, how it was a mistake between breathless pants.
"Luv, luv, calm down. I love ya too." He helped you down from the counter and grabbed up your clothes as you attempted to keep yourself stable on your own two feet. He helped you get dressed, make yourself decent again all while chuckling at your humiliation, the way you couldn't even bear to look at him.
You were thinking hard – thinking loudly. He could see the gears turning behind your eyes with something of uncertainty. "Hobie–"
"Before ya make a rash decision, jus'… think 'bout it." Hobie held you by the waist and kissed you once again because he simply couldn't help himself. "Ion want you doin' somethin you'll regret, like gettin' back together wit' me."
You wanted to tell him that you'd never regret something like that. You never regretted him in the first place despite what he may think. It just that…things were complicated for so many fucked up reasons. You looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes begging him to simply see and understand you. "I love you." That's all you could think to say.
Hobie cracked something of a playful smile. "I know." And it meant so much more than just surface level. He saw just what you needed him to see and accepted it for what it was. He knew you, maybe more than you knew yourself and you were grateful for it.
Returning back out to the living room meant having to deal with questions from your friends. "What were you two in there so long for?" It seemed they hadn't heard anything from where they sat and your secret, with a little side-stepping, could remain just that – a secret.
Hobie, being the better liar, was quick to shrug carelessly and plop down on the couch. He glanced at you, grabbing your drink from where you left it and taking a sip.
"Jus' talkin'."
742 notes · View notes
angeljeonjk97 · 5 months
Text
BodyWork || Bell #1
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Jungkook x reader
friends to lovers
18+ (fluff, smut)
warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol,
Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.
“You already know how I like it baby”
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You sit behind the desk of your dad's gym, playing a mobile game on your phone, waiting for the last person to leave before you can lock up. It was now dark outside, the entire sky was pitch black, not even a star in the sky. Your head jolts up at the sound of the male changing room door opening.
A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair and an arm covered in tattoos wearing a plain white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, emerges from the opening door.
He glances over at me behind the black-painted desk,
"Yo! Where's your dad?" he asks you, throwing a towel over his shoulder.
Jungkook is a famous boxer and has been for the past 5 years, and the gym that your dad owns just so happens to be where he trains. Your dad has owned this boxing gym for as long as you can remember and many professionals have trained here, but none for as long as Jungkook.
"Oh, he left already," You respond after realising you were probably looking at him for a bit longer than you should have, "Why?"
He casually walks over to the desk, leaning against it slightly to speak to you.
"He said he wanted to tell me something but, it obviously wasn't that important," Jungkook pauses before taking a sip from his bottle that rested in his right hand.
Your dad has always been the type to never wait around for anyone. He will do what he wants in his own time, without thinking of others most of the time. That's not to say he's selfish or anything but he can be quite... let's just say... assertive sometimes.
"How's training?" you place your phone down on the desk, placing your elbows on the platform with your chin in your left hand, looking up at Jungkook's muscular frame.
He scoffs, standing up straight to face you properly, he spans his arms out to his sides, with a cocky smirk on his face,
"I'm gonna win, so easily"
You roll my eyes and smile at his painfully obvious act. Despite his skills and how he hasn't lost a single match in the past 3 years, Jungkook is one of the humblest people you know. You both have known each other for 8 years and even though he's 26 now and is known pretty much all over the world, he hasn't changed at all.
He laughs at your response before getting closer to the desk again.
"You need help locking up again?"
"Nah, I should be fine," You reply, swivelling around in the black leather barstool, jumping down and pulling the keys from your pocket, proceeding to lock the cash register up.
"You got a lift home?" The black-haired man asks watching you as you walk from behind the desk and towards the changing room doors.
"I'm taking the bus home,"
"The bus? Why didn't you ask me to take you home?"
You turn your head to him behind you, flashing him a small smile.
"I didn't want to bother you, Kook, you've already worked hard today," you answer honestly, looking at Jungkook as you walk up the stairs. He follows behind.
"Oh come on. I've told you before to ask me if you need a lift home, buses aren't safe at night," He raises his voice a little so you can still hear him, "I'm driving you home."
You stop what your doing before looking at him with a disappointed look.
"Jungkook, I'll be fine-"
"No, I am driving you home," He cuts you off, crossing his arms across his chest. He goes silent for a bit as you don't respond to him before he breaks it again with a declaring tone, "I'm going to my car, if I don't see you in the passenger seat next to me in five minutes I'm dragging you out of here."
His voice fades as he begins making his way back down the stairs. You shake your head with a smile, knowing that you can't say no to JK.
After a few minutes, you make your way out of the gym, locking the doors behind you and pulling the shutters down afterwards. Before you turn around, you hear the sound of a car pulling up behind you. Of course, when you turn around it's a black Mercedes, that had Jungkook sitting behind the steering wheel. you open the passenger door seating yourself next to him, in which he sets off a few seconds later.
Once he parks up outside your apartment complex you turn to Jungkook,
"Thank you again, kook, but like I said, you don't have to be my taxi driver all the time. Someone might see you"
Jungkook shrugs back, his tattooed arm leaning against the steering wheel, "So what if someone sees me? It's not like you're in here giving me a blowjob or something"
You slap him on the arm with the back of your hand, giving him a disapproving look. He laughs back casually as these types of crude jokes are common coming from him.
"I'll walk you in," Jungkook says as he swings his car door open before you are doing the same.
Making your way up the stairs Jungkook remains behind you the entire time, looking up through the hole that the stacked up stairs, all leading to different floors, created.
Reaching your apartment door, you pull your keys out from your pocket, rattling them in your door, as Jungkook watches over you from behind.
"You coming in?" you ask looking up at him from behind innocently.
"Aw nah, not today y/n. It's late and I gotta be up early again tomorrow for training," He gives you a guilty look, glancing into your apartment, "I promise I'll be over soon though"
You give him a sad smile, remembering how much time he used to spend at your place with you. Because of his big fight in 2 months, he's been busy since the beginning of the year and hasn't spent as much time with you as you had liked, but you're not mad. You understand how tiring training can be, plus it's not like you two don't hang out at all anymore, you still make time for each other when it's possible.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then?" You respond, walking into your apartment and facing him again.
"Goodnight y/n"
index-next->
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Authors note:
hiii, I hope you all liked this chapter. I know not a lot has happened but I promise it'll get better from here. This was just a little introduction to y/n and Jungkook's relationship and lore explaining. I'm so excited for this new fic so I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Please look out for when new chapters come out!!!
547 notes · View notes
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1-4-1 + Horangi and Konig, helping their crush out when she approaches them in a bar asking them to pretend to be her boyfriend because a strange guy had been following her around all night. Please? I like your writing.
Oooh, yes, I can do this! I've never written for Horangi before, so bear with me!!🩵
141 + König & Horangi Pretending To Be Readers Boyfriend To Help Her
Warnings: reader being uncomfortable, unwanted advances, physical violence, swearing
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Simon Ghost Riley-
The guy had been staring at you all night. No matter where you went, his eyes followed you everywhere.
You walked up to the bar to get another drink for yourself when you saw him get up from the corner of your eye and started to make his way toward you.
There was a fairly attractive gentleman to your right, and you acted quickly. You tapped him on the shoulder softly. "I'm so sorry to bother, that gentleman back there has been staring at me all night making me really uncomfortable, and now he's coming over here, could you possibly just act like you're my boyfriend?"
The man turned to you before catching sight of the greasy man coming toward you and gave you a firm nod. He stood to his full height, towering over you as the other man approached.
"Hey baby, I've been watching you all night. Can I buy you a drink and maybe take you out?" The greasy man gave a sickening smile, making your insides churn. You instinctively gripped onto the handsome man's arm tightly.
"She's with me. So I suggest you back off." The man's voice was incredibly deep, with a thick Manchester accent.
The greasy man gave a sneer before looking back to you. "Haven't seen you with this fella at all tonight. Are you sure he's yours?"
"I said, I suggest you back off. She's not interested. Now scram." The Manchester man's voice could cut knives, but the man wasn't backing down.
"I'm just saying your little pet here has quite the body. It's not such a bad thing to share, is it?" He walked closer, clearly under the influence as any sane man would've ran from the way the tall man was looking at him.
"Look, mate. You've got about 5 seconds before I smash this glass across your face, and I'll make sure it leaves scars." The Manchester man's voice was eerily calm, and it clearly worked on the other man, as he audibly gulped and ran for the door.
You let out a shaky sigh of relief and loosened your hold on the man's arm, turning to him.
"Oh, thank you so much. He was making me really uncomfortable, and I'm not super great at standing my ground." Your cheeks flushed under the man's intense gaze. "I'm so sorry to bother."
"It's no issue at all. I'm happy to have helped." He gave you a ghost of a smile before finishing off the last of his bourbon.
"Can I buy you a round, as a thank you?" You asked, your tone hopeful.
"Nah." He started, and your shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I had you pay. What're you having?" He gestured to the unoccupied seat beside him, the same ghost of a smile on his face. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't caught sight of you earlier. You were a sight to behold, and the fact that you were now sitting beside him had his insides warming.
"Whatever you are." You smiled, sitting in the unoccupied seat next to him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."
"Simon. You drink bourbon?"
"Prefer Kentucky if I'm honest." You said shyly.
Simon's eyes lit up at your admission. Nobody in his life ever liked Kentucky. "Good taste."
The two of you remained there for what felt like hours, conversation flowing naturally between you. He'd told you very little about himself, but just enough to keep you intrigued. You were quick to develop a little crush on him, and unbeknownst to you, he was planning on asking for your number before you both parted ways.
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König-
You were a close friend of Roze's and had met Konig a few times in passing. There was something about you, that had his cheeks heating from under his hood, and his word's always coming out as a jumbled mess whenever he tried to talk to you.
It was Roze's birthday, and you and a few members of Kortac had gone to her favorite bar to celebrate.
There was a guy who'd followed you from the last bar you were at earlier, and he was now sitting across from you, making you quite uncomfortable. You knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to approach you.
You turned to your right and saw one of Rozes teammates König (who you may have harbored a small crush on) sitting to your right, and you touched his shoulder gently.
"Konig, could I ask a huge favor? Could you possibly pretend to be my boyfriend? That guy over there has been following me all night, and it's starting to scare me." You rubbed at your arms nervously, as you watched the man from the corner of your eyes.
Konig's heart dropped at the tone of your voice and followed your gaze to a sneering man in the corner, who's eyes were fixated on you. The man's eyes shifted to Konig and gave a taunting smile before returning his gaze back to you.
König squeezed your hand gently, signaling it was okay. You stayed by König's side for a few minutes before the man decided to make his move. He walked over toward you, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he approached. "Evening, hot stuff."
You swallowed thickly and steadied yourself on König, who was now standing to his full height. "I'd recommend backing off, sir."
"I'm just coming to say hello. This fine young thing looked rather lonely. Thought I'd offer my...company." The man had said with a wink.
"She's not lonely. She's with me. Now, again, back off." Königs voice was laced with vitriol, but the man didn't seem phased.
"Why don't you join me, sweetheart. I can probably show you a better time than this guy. I could do quite a few memorable things to you." He gave a sadistic smirk to you.
König pushed you behind him gently, his hand hovering over your hip as reassurance. "I. Said. Back. Off. I can snap your bones in half more easily than you think. Don't tempt me, because I'd quite enjoy it."
The man held his hands up in mock innocence as he walked away. "Fine. Whatever. It's not worth my time anyway."
You took a deep breath as you tried to control your shaking hands. "T-thanks König. I really appriciate it. I don't think I could've handled that alone."
König turned to you with a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me, Maus."
"Maus?" You asked. Your German was limited to what you'd learned in primary school, so you were confused on what he'd called you.
The tips of König's ears turned pink as he mumbled slightly. "O-oh, it's mouse."
You gave a small giggle. "I quite like that. May.. may I offer you a coffee? There's a little shop right next door that has good sweets. They're open late."
König felt his heart skip a beat at the hopeful look in your eyes. You wanted to spend time with him? "I'd love that."
Your face lit up at his words, and you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep. "Great! My treat."
You led the way to the coffee shop, and you and König had spent hours there until they closed. He'd insisted on walking you to your apartment, and you refused to let him leave until you made plans for your next "date." To say König had a smile that could light up all of Austria as he left your flat that night, would be an understatement.
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Horangi-
Horangi had been subtly watching you all night. You were rather cute to him, but what caught his attention was the fact that you looked very uncomfortable. There was a gentleman who'd been continuously making passes at you and your group of friends, and it was clear it was unwanted.
The man had whistled to get your attention, and you looked over to him. You gave an awkward half smile and returned to the conversation your friends were having. You turned your attention discreetly back to the gentleman when you'd heard some fairly sexual remarks being said about you. Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment at what was being said. You finished off your drink and made your way to get a drink from the bar, and your stomach dropped when you saw the guy approaching.
You quickly turned to Horangi, your hands shaking slightly as you tapped on his shoulder gently. "Hi there, could I bother you a moment?"
Horangi turned to you, his smile dropping when he saw the panicked look on your face. "Yes of course, are you alright miss?"
"I'm... yes. Sorry that guy is bothering me, and I'm just trying to get a drink. Actually... could I ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend for just a few minutes until he leaves?" You asked, speaking at a brisk pace.
"Absolutely, yes." He nodded, as watched as the man approached you.
"Hey, sweetheart. Haven't seen you around here often. Wanted to invite you over to drink with my buddies and I. Could use a nice little piece of ass at our table." He gave a satisfied smile as he watched your expressions.
"S-sorry, I have a boyfriend, actually." You muttered meekly. Horangi watched as the drunk man walked closer to you, a sickening smirk on his lips.
"Haven't seen him around here. Not wise for your boyfriend to leave you unattended." He stopped just close enough for you to smell the strong alcohol on his breath.
"I'm her boyfriend, and I suggest you back the hell off her." Horangi stood, and the drunk man backed up with his hands up in a defensive gesture.
"Whatever. Don't want a slag like you anyway." The drunk man huffed before walking away.
You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the tall man, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you so so much."
Horangi blushed at the contact, his eyes trailing to where your hand was resting. "It's not a problem. Are you okay, now?"
You gave a nod, running your hand along the backside of your neck. "Oh yeah, I'm good." You felt a sudden burst of confidence coursing through you with the way he was looking at you. "Could I maybe make it up to you by taking you out for dinner? If you're not seeing anyone, that is. I'm Y/N, by the way."
Horangi's heart was beating rapidly as he processed your words. You were interested in him? "I'm Horangi I'd love that."
The two of you spoke for a while longer before exchanging numbers. You were quite giddy, as you made plans to hang out the next day.
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Johnny was infatuated with you. You'd recently joined the team as a medic, and he hadn't had much of a chance to talk to you lately. You had such a carefree attitude and he couldn't help but be drawn to you.
He was sitting with Simon and Gaz at a local pub on a Friday night, drinking away a long day when his eyes fell on you. You were with a group of friends laughing away, and he felt his insides grow warm at the sound.
He'd watched as you stood and made your way to the bar, his stomach dropping as he saw a sniveling drunk man follow you, his eyes latched onto your ass.
It was almost instinct, as Johnny stood up telling the boys he was "going to get another round". He stalked over to you and the man, and his blood began to boil as he saw the look of clear discomfort on your face.
"Sir. I have a boyfriend I'm sorry." You said, your voice shaking slightly.
"I dont see one. Just you and your pretty little friends." The man weaseled his way closer to you, and you nearly gagged at the smell of his rancid breath. You turned your head and spotted a familiar mohawked scot next to you, your eyes meeting his.
"This is my boyfriend, actually." You stated matter of factly, and Johnny's cheeks turned slightly pink at the thought.
Shaking his head of those thoughts, he stood closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your hip. "Just getting a drink, babe? This guy bothering you?"
You turned to Johnny with a nod, your eyes screaming a thousand thank you's to him. Johnny got the hint and walked over to the man. "They're taken. Suggest you take a hint and look elsewhere, man."
The man gave a sinister smile before muttering "slag" under his breath and walking away from the two of you. It took everything in Johnny not to go shove his fist in his face.
You took a deep breath, relief flooding your system before giving Johnny a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Soap. I'm sorry about that, the men here can be...persistent, and not in a good way."
Johnny gave a chuckle. "Persistence isn't always a bad thing. I'm happy I could assist, though. The guy was a creep."
You bit your lip softly, the alcohol making your brain just a bit fuzzy as you slipped out words that had Johnny's eyes widening.
"You're right. It's not always a bad thing. It just depends on the guy. Some guys here, though, I wouldn't mind trying to pick me up." You let your eyes rake along his body before giving him a sly wink. "Specially Scots with Mohawks."
Johnny was at a loss for words, his usual flirty banter being lost on him in that moment. He let out a weak "yes" as his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.
You gave a small giggle and turned to the bar tender. "Two drinks, please. I'll have a gin and tonic, and whatever he's having."
Johnny began to protest, but you'd silenced him. "Let me buy you a drink, Sargent. It's the least I can do to repay you."
And who was Johnny to say no? He was your "boyfriend" afterall.
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John Price-
You were Laswells assistant. You'd been introduced to the boys only a few weeks prior, and that was just long enough for John to develop a small crush on you. You were professional, smart, and had a witty attitude that John couldn't help but fall for.
The 6 of you had found yourselves at a pub for the night, celebrating one of the most recent victories of the team. He couldn't help it, as his eyes continuously followed you, everywhere you went. You held such an aura of confidence, it naturally drew a bunch of unwanted attention at the bar.
One man, in particular, kept his eyes trained on you. He'd tried to talk to you earlier at the bar, and you did your best to brush away his advances before returning to your table. John could clearly see the discomfort in your eyes.
"Are you okay?" He'd asked, eyes searching your face.
"Yeah. Yeah, that guy's just giving me weird vibes." You gave a half smile before returning to your drink.
John made a note to pay close attention to the man the rest of the night.
It wasn't until later on that night that you'd stood and went to the restroom, and John saw red when he saw the man follow you into the restroom.
He stood abruptly, nearly causing the table to fall over before making his way to the bathroom. He pushed the door open with force to find you being shoved against the wall by the man.
"John!" You'd cried out. "Sir, please, this is my boyfriend. Please leave me alone."
The man gave a horrid laugh as he spared a glance in John's direction. "Surely you don't mind if I get a piece of the action."
John seethed, his nostrils flaring slightly as his anger blinded him. He stepped a few inches closer to the man before connecting his fist to the man's face.
The man let out a strangled cry as he dropped to the floor, clutching his cheek. You looked up at John with tears in your eyes and were quick to scurry over to him.
John wrapped his arm around your waist. "I've got you babe."
He led you out of the bathroom, back to your table, before telling the team he was heading out for the night. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what had happened, as they watched the man come out clutching his cheek, and your crying form.
The two of you walked outside, the fresh air providing an immense relief for you as you regained your senses. "Thank you, John. I owe you."
"Don't owe me anything, love. Are you okay?" He turned to you, his previously hardened eyes softening. You blinked up at him with a small smile, before engulfing the man in a hug.
"I am now."
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
You were a newer recruit to the 141. The boys had all fallen in love with you and were glad for you being the new addition, especially Kyle, who'd had a small crush on you.
There were a few of you that had gone to the local bar for the night, and you found yourself in the corner of the bar with one of your friends.
There was a group of gentlemen at the table next to you who were making overly sexual remarks about you. You and your friend got rather uncomfortable and tried to make your way over to the 141 boys.
The group in the corner had followed your every move and began to cat call from their table. You shook slightly as you walked up to Kyle.
"Hey Kyle. Do you mind possibly acting like you're my boyfriend? Those guys have been following me around all night, and my friend just went to the bathroom."
"Sure thing, those guys in the corner?" He asked, eyeing up the group of men.
You gave a nod, not daring to look back at the men.
The boys at the table all eyed up the men who were approaching. The one who'd initiated the comments stood forward, with a smile on his face. "Evening, gents, mind if we borrow this little cutie for a bit?"
"She's taken." Kyle stood, puffing out his chest. "Best, try your luck elsewhere."
The men stood defensively, clearly not backing down. The man who spoke first gave a hearty chuckle. "Taken doesn't mean anything anymore, mate. Let us take her off your hands for awhile."
Kyle walked right up to the man, his face inches from his. "Touch my girlfriend, and my buddies and I will throw all of you out on your ass."
Ghost approached from behind you, casting a menacing glare in their direction. "Try it."
The men clearly knew better than to pick a fight with them and went about their business. Not before, however one of them made a crude remark about you.
Kyle grabbed the man's arm and twisted it. "Say it again, I dare you."
The man ripped his arm from Kyle's grasp and ran back to his buddies in the corner.
"Are you okay?" Kyle asked, moving to sit back next to you.
You nodded, regaining your composure as you gave Kyle a smile. "Thank you, I don't want to know what would've happened if you guys hadn't stepped in."
"Of course, it's what we are here for." He squeezed your shoulder gently.
You sat and thought for a moment before speaking in a hushed tone. "Would you want to get out of here? There's a good burger place down the road. Kind of over the bar scene right now anyway."
Kyle gave you a wide smile before standing, offering his hand to you. "I'd be a fool to say no to that."
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A/N: I hope this was okay! 🙂 still tryna work through my writers block!
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exhaslo · 2 months
Text
Corruption Ch4
(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3
Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?
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Four months, twenty days until D-Day
There were tears in your eyes as you entered the prison. This was something you never really did like doing alone. You had always managed to convince someone to go with you, but all you had this time was Lyla.
Lyla wasn't there to ease the guards as they nearly hailed you with harsh and cruel questions. Honestly, it felt like you were the one being sent to prison. Shaking as you entered the large prison, you followed behind the guards.
Some hero you were. As you waited for the prisoners to be lined up, you decided to glance around at the other inmates. Most, if not all, were whistling towards you and cat calling you. It was as if they had never seen a woman before.
"Alright men! Listen up, offer of a lifetime!" One of the guards yelled. You poked your head from behind the guard,
"Hello, I come from Alchemax with a generous...offer," You hesitated, knowing full well that these men were not coming back alive, "In exchange for your freedom-"
"We'll fuck you good!" One of the inmates laughed. You bit the inside of your cheek,
"We at Alchemax are in the process of building a bright...future," You could feel your own heart stabbing at the words, "In exchange for your freedom, we would ask of you to offer yourselves to help build this new future-"
"Lab rats! The bitch wants us to be lab rats!"
"We're going to want more than just freedom if you want to experiment on us!"
"Y-You'll be in the upmost care," You whispered, trying to find the courage.
You needed to be strong. You were going to be a hero and eventually knock out some really bad guys in the future. You needed to be strong in front of those who were already behind bars! Inhaling deeply, you furrowed your brows towards the angry inmates,
"If you wish stay here and rot, then be my guest!" Honestly, it was for the best that they stay in prison than become Miguel's experiments, "We can just find others who care more."
Some of the men grunted and little by a little, a few of them took the offer. You gripped the bottom of your shirt, hating the thought of walking these men to their deaths.
But, it was either their lives or yours. You wanted to show Miguel that you were capable of tough decisions. That he could rely on you more and that there was no need for you to leave...You feared the rapture drug. You didn't want to become like some of your coworkers.
"Alright, six volunteers. Your paperwork is being worked on now, I will just have you all follow me-"
"Before we go, I think we deserve a little treat."
"Your treat is fresh air," You grumbled, ignoring their antics. You gasped, feeling one of their hands against your shoulders, "Guards!"
"Nah, lil miss. Once you took us in your care, they left." The prisoners smirked.
"So that means you're under mine."
You winced as you felt yourself being pulled back. Glancing up, you smiled in relief as Miguel glared down the prisoners. His grip was tight around you before he quickly approached his new Guinea pigs. Confused, you noticed Lyla appear and gave you a thumbs up.
"You called him?" You asked in a whisper. Lyla just smiled,
"More like he got impatient." She chuckled and appeared beside your ear, "Maybe worried~"
Your cheeks started to burn red as you stared at Miguel's tall back. He towered before you, giving the prisoners a lesson. Lyla was messing with you about Miguel worrying. He would never, but the thought did make your chest tighten with glee.
"You belong to Alchemax; to me. During your time in prison, the guards had to keep you in line. That line doesn't exist for me," Miguel chuckled darkly before grabbing one of the inmates by the hair and slamming his face into the wall, "If I want you to break, I'll break you."
"Hey! We didn't sign up for this!"
"And my assistant didn't sign up to get your grimy hands on her," Miguel spat, "She remains untouched. You lot better show your appreciation towards your savior, for I won't be as kind."
"Miguel," You whispered, trying to hide your smile.
You were hopelessly in love. Watching Miguel approach you, you cleared your throat to compose yourself and followed him. Miguel glanced down at you before placing his arm behind your back. He hissed towards the guards to do their job before leading you to his vehicle.
"May I assume that you got all the spiders already?" You asked, taking a seat beside him. Miguel grunted,
"What am I to do with you, (Y/N)?" He said with a heavy sigh. You lowered your head, glancing away from Miguel,
"Sorry, sir. I thought I had a handle on the situation, but I failed to realize that the guards left..."
"Yes, you did." Miguel grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him, "I don't want you breaking on me."
"I-I won't, sir."
"Stop calling me sir," Miguel groaned, moving away from you, "Check your inbox. I've sent a list of the spiders I received and the different tests they will undergo."
"Shall I nickname it: Spider-Woman clone?" You said with a small laugh. Miguel only grunted once more,
"I will recreate her."
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"I haaaaaate my jooooob~" You sang as you swung throughout the city, "But I loooooooove my boss~"
Landing against Alchemax, you continued to hum as you crawled up the building. Miguel bullied you for the rest of the day, belittling you, saying that you couldn't be trusted to be alone. To anyone, this would infuriate them, but to you...it was a whole day standing beside Miguel.
Though, you hated listening to his ideals. Miguel had such a corrupt mind and you weren't resolving anything, but....perhaps you could sway him now. You grinned from ear to ear as you poked into Miguel's office, wondering how he would react to the famous Spider-Woman he was so fascinated about.
"How do I enter?" You muttered.
Perhaps you didn't think this far ahead. Crawling around, you tried to find an opening, but there was nothing. Then again, if Miguel could open his windows then there would be people flying out of them. The fall would kill them and Miguel would not care.
"Lyla, bring me the file of that prisoner that touched (Y/N)." Miguel said as he entered his office. You gasped, poking your head below, watching Miguel.
"Here it is."
"He will be the first," Miguel grunted, observing the file, "Hm, we're going to try the gene splicer on him. See what happens if we cross his DNA with the Wolf Spider."
"The gene splicer still isn't full functional. Lab five is still repairing from the last test that they conducted." Lyla explained.
"Then that's a shame for the test subject. More suffering for him."
You wanted to find this romantic. Miguel was still angry for you, but he was going about this wrong. Deciding to show yourself, you smiled and waved towards Miguel-who nearly froze.
"Lyla, open the window!"
"Ah, they do open!" You gasped, staying outside, "Hope you don't mind me staying here." You chirped, perching against the window.
"Whatever makes you comfortable," Miguel refused to break eye contact with you, "Have you changed your mind on that blood sample?"
"No, but I'd figure, I'd get to know the strange man who asked such an unusual request." You lied, "Care to explain what you would do with my blood?"
"Evolve the human race," Miguel said simply, observing you, "You are my dream. Someone as perfect as you needs to be recreated if we are to strive as humans!"
You felt a sting in your heart as Miguel spoke. His words were honest and true. Never had he complimented you before.
"I was an accident. Humans don't need this...change to be better. We need to be working on ourselves rather than creatures."
"How better than not too?!" Miguel's smile turned wicked, "Tell me, whatever accident created you, have you gained enhancements?!"
"Well....yes....but-"
"What kind? Please, spare no detail!" Miguel started to grow closer to you.
You could feel your heart race as you watched Miguel. Never had he been so interested in you. As much as it hurt seeing that being this hero is what brought this side out of him, you still couldn't help but want more. You wanted Miguel to see you as...you.
"I-"
"All units, please respond to break in at Central bank. Subjects are armed and dangerous." Your public eye radio went off.
"Ah, I have to go-"
"Will you come back to answer my questions?" Miguel asked as he grabbed your hand. You looked away, biting your lower lip from the warmth of his hand,
"I...I might."
Quickly letting go, you jumped down from the building. You covered your face as you fell, whining at your own embarrassment. It felt strange, but you felt like Miguel did listen to you...somewhat. Perhaps you could win him over after all.
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"Her hands were soft. She's never seen the line of work that she is about to put herself into," Miguel hissed lowly, watching you swing across the city, "She's going to get herself hurt!"
"I recorded your interaction with her," Lyla spoke. Miguel had his window shut, replaying the scene,
"I cannot allow such a precious being to get damaged! I must have her tied up in my lab!"
"Will you experiment on her?" Lyla questioned. Miguel just laughed,
"No. She is the key to my perfect future. While, yes, I will take some blood samples, but no harm will come to her. Someone as delicate as her will be mine."
"It doesn't look like she shares your ideals," Lyla appeared before Miguel, zooming in on the camera, "But, she does express interest in you."
"Then I'll just have to corrupt her into my personal hero."
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Sighing heavily as you returned home, you shuffled your feet towards your bathroom. A soft groan escaped your lips as you tossed your suit aside and entered the shower. Today was your first official day fighting criminals and trying to persuade Miguel.
At least one of those things went well.
Rubbing the palm of your hand, you recalled Miguel's warm grasp. He looked at you with so much interest. How could you ever get him to look at you like that as just you? Recalling the fight at the bank, you decided to call Lyla.
"Yes, (Y/N)? How can I assist you?" Lyla appeared outside your shower curtain.
"Um, could you send the footage...of the Spider-woman fight from the bank on Central and 23rd? I'm sure he would like to see that."
"Of course, (Y/N). Miguel will be very pleased."
"Yeah...um...Lyla?" You poked your head out of the shower, glancing at the AI, "Just between you and me...Does Miguel have...any romantic interest in that...hero?"
"Can't say the idea has crossed his mind. More like fascination." Lyla explained and smiled towards you, "Are you jealous of his attention towards Spider-Woman?"
"...Don't tell him..."
"Your secret is safe until he asks." Lyla chirped before disappearing.
Gripping onto the shower curtain, you let out a small whimper. The suit that laid on the ground before you was a blessing and a curse. Miguel would only see you as one and not the other. If only he could speak you as sweetly as he did to Spider-woman.
"I need to change him."
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