#as long as their interaction intriguing me

[jrob64]

A Love/Hate Relationship - a CS modern AU one-shot

I wrote this story because I was in need of fluff, humor and hurt/comfort after the painful experience of losing two dogs in less than a year. Zeke, who was in my story Sowing Seeds of Trust, died of cancer last June. Two months later, we adopted Winston, who was the main character in Pet for Rent. Somehow, he swallowed part of a brush (while he wasn't at home) which perforated his intestines and caused internal bleeding. He died May 23. Writing my favorite trope for my favorite couple is therapeutic for me as I deal with my heartbreak.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 and @hookedmom.

Summary: Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused.

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Story is under the cut

*********

Killian Jones buried his face in a pillow and pulled it up over his head in an attempt to stop the incessant pounding. After several painful moments, he realized the noise wasn’t in his head, but was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Groaning, he tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his head in his hands for a short while. When he finally got to his feet, he swayed dizzily and stumbled into the door frame, leaning against it to try to regain his balance.

He eventually made his way across the living room, unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open. “What?” he demanded loudly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut before even registering who was on the other side of the door.

“Jones, how many times do I have to tell you to…Wow! You look like hell.”

Killian cracked his eyes open enough to see his neighbor from across the hall, Emma Swan. Infuriating to the highest degree and just as beautiful, she was the last person he wanted to see while he was in his current state. The two of them had a love/hate relationship…minus the love.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot when he moved in a little over a year ago. Unaware that she was a police officer who worked the night shift, he woke her up shouting orders at the movers. Emma Swan was not a morning person, especially after working an eight hour shift on the streets of Boston, and she informed him of it in no uncertain terms.

After that day, every interaction between them was filled with tension and snarkiness. Killian wished they could go back to when they met and start over again, because he knew she was basing her hatred of him on that first impression. In all honesty, he was quite intrigued by the fierce blonde and would like to know if there was a sweet or funny side of her she kept hidden very deep inside. Very, very deep.

Now she was here, standing at his door, scrutinizing him like a bug squashed on the bottom of her shoe. “Hangover?” she smirked.

He sighed. “I have the flu, Swan. It’s been going around at the office and I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid it. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, is there something I can help you with? If not, I’d really like to go back to bed.”

She took a step forward and unexpectedly pressed her palm to his forehead, then both hands to his unshaven cheeks. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Usually accompanies the flu. Now if you’ll…”

“Do you have medicine?”

“No, I…”

“Have you eaten? Are you drinking plenty of fluids?”

“I haven’t…”

“How long have you had it? Have you seen a doctor?”

Killian rested his pounding head against the door. “Must you use your interrogation techniques on me? I haven’t committed a crime, you know.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, clearly offended.

“I could use less help and more sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yes, good,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. “Go back to bed and I’ll get you something to drink. Do you want water, juice or…”

“More questions, Swan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“All you have to drink is water, Dr. Pepper Zero and beer?” she asked, peering into his refrigerator. Closing it, she straightened up and began opening cupboards. “Do you have tea bags? British people like to drink tea, don’t they?”

He knew it would hurt his head to roll his eyes, so he simply threw up his hands and trudged off to his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Emma celebrating the fact that she’d located the tea bags.

He had just gotten back to sleep, when he was shaken awake. “What now?” he growled, flopping onto his back.

“I made some tea and found Advil in your medicine cabinet. You need to drink something and get these pills in you.”

He raised his head and blinked up at her blearily. “You went through my medicine cabinet?”

“Yeah. Did you know condoms have an expiration date? The ones you have in there expired almost two years ago. Better not use them, because they’re likely to break.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his head drop back down on his pillow. “Please just let me die.”

“You aren’t gonna die from the flu, Jones.”

“I meant from embarrassment,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit up,” she commanded, sliding her arm under his pillow and pushing until he did as he was told.

First, she handed him a bottle of water. After glaring at her for several seconds, he finally took it, then swiped the two pills she held in her other palm. He popped them into his mouth and downed them with the water.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“Deliriously,” she quipped. “Now drink your tea.”

He accepted the mug she offered him and held it to his lips. Cautiously taking a sip, he grimaced and spit it back into the cup. “Did you heat the water at all? It’s barely warm! And how bloody much sugar did you put in it?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to burn your mouth,” she explained haughtily. “And I put in the same amount of sugar as I put in my coffee. Four spoonfuls.”

“Four?” he questioned. “Are you trying to kill me, or just give me diabetes?”

“You’re not a very good patient, Jones. You could at least be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for your help.”

She ignored him, fluffing his pillow and pushing at his chest to get him to lay back down. “I found a can of chicken noodle soup in your cupboard. I’m going to heat it up.”

“Don’t add any sugar to it,” he groused, as she walked out of the bedroom, taking the tepid cup of tea with her.

“I heard that,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Of course she heard that, but didn’t hear when I told her to leave me alone,” he mumbled into his pillow. He tossed and turned, knowing that if he went to sleep, the maddening woman would just wake him up again.

Sure enough, she was back at his bedside within ten minutes, carefully carrying a plate containing a steaming bowl of soup and a small stack of saltine crackers. He sat up before she could order him to, and took the plate from her.

“You didn’t add anything to this, did you?” he asked.

“Nope, I just heated it up,” she assured him.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it and put it in his mouth, then promptly choked and sputtered. “Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t you add any water to this?”

“Why would I add water?” she asked, a confused frown forming on her face.

“Because Campbell’s soup is condensed. It’s too salty this way. Adding extra water dilutes it enough that it tastes like soup is supposed to taste, rather than tasting like…like the ocean. Haven’t you ever made soup from a can before?”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “I make Progresso soup all the time, but I never add water to it.”

“Progresso soup isn’t condensed. This is.” He took the stack of crackers, then thrust the plate back towards her. “I’ll just eat these, thanks very much. Now that you’ve tended to me, you can leave me in peace.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked.

Was that concern he saw on her face? Surely not. Emma Swan would never be concerned about him. It would be more realistic if she were to try to poison him. Perhaps he should have been more careful eating and drinking what she gave him.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear those thoughts, he said gruffly, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like you really helped anyway.”

This time, he thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, before she turned and left the room. Soon he heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have really seen Emma Swan look concerned and hurt, could he? Great. Now he was going to have to add hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

He ate the crackers, then lay down and turned onto his side, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders. He was achy and feverish, but it was the guilt over how he treated his apparently well-meaning neighbor that kept him from falling asleep.

*********

Three days later, after his fever had been broken for twenty-four hours, Killian went back to work. Upon returning home at the end of the day and getting his keys out to unlock his apartment, the door across the hall opened and Emma stepped out.

“Oh, hey Jones. Looks like you recovered, no thanks to me.”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I owe you an apology, Swan. I was rude and should have never said what I did.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I guess I’ll never be a Florence Nightingale.” Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See ya around.”

“Swan…Emma, wait,” he called out, hurrying after her.

She turned around. “What?” she huffed.

“I, uh, I truly am sorry. It was very kind of you to try to help me, but…”

“But what?”

“But why did you do that? I mean, given the fact you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you,” she interrupted.

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and looked down at the floor for several long moments. When she finally looked up, he was shocked to see the vulnerability on her face.

“Look… I’m not good with…people,” she said softly. “And I’m also not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

She paused and he waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

“None of the people I know would be concerned enough to check on me if I called in sick to work. You’ve lived here long enough for me to realize that…that you don’t seem to have anyone like that, either. I never see anyone coming or going on a regular basis - besides the pizza delivery guy, but I don’t think he counts.”

Killian chuckled dryly. “You’re very observant, Swan.” He paused for a moment, debating whether he should open up to her as she was to him. “And you’re also correct,” he added finally. “I moved here from England when I was transferred for my job, and I don’t have any close friends yet.”

She nodded. “I figured it was something like that. The day you moved in, I was…well, to put it bluntly, I was a bitch. And, as I said, I’m not good at apologizing, so I just let things go on being…uncomfortable. When I saw that you were sick the other day, I thought it was my chance to make things better between us, but I screwed that up, too. I just…I guess I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to be alone while you were suffering - that there was someone who cared. I…I’m sorry I made things worse.”

“You didn’t make things worse,” he assured her. “I appreciate the effort. Actually, if you think about it, it was really quite comical.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And they do say laughter is the best medicine, so your failed attempts at helping are probably what cured me so quickly.”

Seeing the grin on his face, the corners of her own mouth turned up a bit. “You’re an idiot, Jones.”

He took a step closer. “How about if we start over, Emma? It would be nice to have a friend living across the hall.”

She eyed him, chewing her lip in contemplation. Then she held her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He reached forward to give her hand a firm shake. “Killian Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

She smiled and he was amazed at how it transformed her already lovely face. They stood awkwardly for several moments, until Killian said, “Well, I should let you go. Were you on your way to work?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was just going to get something to eat.”

He rubbed his hand along his jaw, dropping his eyes as he asked, “Would you, um…would you like some company?” Looking back up, he saw her eyes widen and hurried to add, “Just as a friend. As you well know, I don’t have much to eat in my apartment.”

She snorted out a laugh. “You still have more than I do at my place.” Turning away from him once again, she said, “If you’re sure, you’re welcome to join me. I was just gonna go to the diner around the corner. Tonight’s special is grilled cheese and onion rings.”

“Ah, greasy diner food,” he said, beginning to follow her. “You do know if you keep eating that stuff, your arteries are going to be filled with sludge.”

She chose to ignore him as she started down the stairs. “They have the best hot chocolate, too.”

“How much sugar do you add to it?” he grinned.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “No sugar, just cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon in hot chocolate? Sounds…interesting.”

She stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. “If you’re gonna make fun of my preferences for food and drink, you’re uninvited.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said, “I meant no offense, Swan. Perhaps I’ll even give your…unique concoction a try.”

That meal led to another, and many more. Soon they added regular coffee dates. Gradually, at Killian’s urging, Emma tried and eventually acquired a taste for black coffee, no sugar. Even more gradually, at Emma’s urging, Killian acquired a taste for greasy diner food.

Six weeks after Emma’s attempt to nurse Killian back to health, they went on their first official date. Killian was very happy to discover that Emma Swan did indeed have both a sweet and funny side. They realized they had many things in common, as they talked during their dinner at one of Boston’s most renowned restaurants, then walked along the waterfront.

At the conclusion of the date, they shared a kiss outside her apartment door, which opened both of their eyes to the fact that there was a significant spark of attraction between them. As they continued to date, the spark ignited into a blazing flame. (They made sure to replace the expired condoms in Killian’s medicine cabinet, once it was obvious they were going to put them to use.)

They became each other’s ‘person’ - someone to laugh with, cry with, share everything with, and nurse back to health when the need arose. By the following winter, when the flu made its way through Killian’s office once again, he had his own live-in nurse, whose skills were much improved from the previous year.

By that time, they still had a love/hate relationship…but now, it was minus the hate.

*********

A couple of fun notes:

-Colin was drinking a Dr. Pepper Zero during the Meet & Greet I went to at GalaxyCon in Columbus last year.

-At another con several years ago, Jen admitted she never drank black coffee until Colin got her hooked on it. (No pun intended!)

*********

Thank you for reading.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj

#a love/hate relationship #cs one shot #CS modern AU #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers #neighbors to lovers #csff #captain swan fanfic

[roosterforme]

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

--------------------------

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

-------------------------

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #wrong number #top gun rocktober

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere demon #yandere demon x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #demon x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #male yandere #female reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere fic #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

[raitonsfw]

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 | 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚞 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

synopsis: They made a fucking bet – whoever made you cum first wins first fuck of the night. The drawback? They can't drop their cursed techniques, Gojo with his Limitless and Geto with his Curse Manipulation. You can only imagine where this was gonna go, your legs already spread open wide for the sorcerers.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), threesome, inappropriate use of cursed techniques, sex toy (vibrator with insertion), clit play, doggy style, facefucking, creampie & cum swallowing, dirty talk, banter, satosugu arguing like idiots, geto pisses gojo off, geto kinda cheats, toji's worm pins reader down, gojo's love language is touch (so this is really hard for him), gojo being a bit cocky and geto being a bit condescending, satosugu don't interact sexually (i know, i'm sorry), endings kinda weak but who cares?

a/n: with this treasure i summon– dunno came up with this plot like a few weeks ago cuz i was really intrigued by satoru's technique and not being able to touch him like- if there are mistakes, just know i suck at distinguishing the power system of jjk so my bad. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby

“Aw, she’s crying…” You heard from afar and you knew instantly– you were fucked. 

“Satoru, don’t tease her.” 

The two men made a bet– of who could get you to cum without dropping their technique wins first fuck of the night. Naturally, Gojo had it much worse as he couldn’t touch you but Geto was able to do whatever he pleased… with the exception of his curses clinging to you. And that made you squirm with discomfort– you hated his curses, they skeeved you out and you were worried they might attack you even though Geto’s assured you many times he has full control of them. 

You reached out for Gojo again but you were met with traction, the slipping feeling of reality falling apart and breaking your hand’s outstretch. Tears slipped from your eyes as you were fooled yet again, the pressure vibrating through your body becoming way too much and you tried to pull from Geto’s grasp. But the wormed curse he summoned kept you tight and taut against the heat of the mattress, the vibrator flush with your clit and you frowned.

You couldn’t cum like this– with the way Geto’s slimy purple worm looked, so goddamn disgusting…and all you wanted was Gojo’s affection. You wanted him to touch you– to crave you like he always did. He was such a touchy man and the fact that he sat in front of you without so much as reaching out killed you.

Geto had you in his lap, the worm clinging onto one of your arms and the other expelled out towards Gojo. Geto ran the vibrator down towards your entrance and you writhed against him again, your back arching up with a whiny moan but you were met with the babbling of the wretched worm next to you and you instinctively tried to flung it off. “Getooo… Get it off me.” 

Geto pressed a tiny kiss to the back of your head, his other hand stroking your hair with a quiet murmur of ‘sorry baby…’ which didn’t make you feel any better. Gojo sat in front of you in a criss cross position, looking quite bored as he leaned his elbow against his knee. “Bring out another curse, Suguruuu. Toji’s worm’s weak.” 

“I’m not going to scare her.” Geto sighed, his hand faltering on your cunt and you visibly relaxed as he pulled it away from you. Instead he slipped the other part of the vibrator inside you curtly, leaving it there as his fingers brushed your clit. “At least I can touch her.”

Jealousy flashed on Gojo’s face as Geto rubbed circles on your clit, earning another whine from you– a long needy whine too. Your eyes threatened to squeeze shut, barely able to concentrate on anything besides the incessant vibrating pressing into you. Gojo huffed out dramatically, his eyes leveling towards your cunt then back towards Geto. 

“Just because I can’t touch her doesn’t mean I can’t get her off.” The sly remark from the white haired sorcerer went unnoticed by you as the toy nudged deeper into you, the force much more prominent than before. 

You moaned out as it started to fuck in and out of you, the motions absurdly fluid as it pinned your sweet spot, making you tremble. Your hips rolled into the sensation, your hands clutching against the silk of the bed sheets quickly. When you vaguely registered where Geto’s hands rested – one in your hair and another rubbing your clit – you realized that it wasn’t him thrusting the vibrator in you.

You glanced down quickly and through blurred vision, you recognized the invisible energy dragging so heavenly along your walls– Gojo was using his technique.

The vibrator moved to the force pulled within the constraints of his limitless technique, infinity constriding your every nerve and you writhed against Geto, completely forgetting about the curse that crawled against your arm. Your eyes met Gojo; his hand flush with cursed energy glowing a bright blue along with the crystals he called eyes, the damned things nearly taking your breath away. It felt like you were on display for him, taking in every whimper and moan coaxed out of you by his precious power.

He seemed so into it now, his cock straining in his boxers– he found a loophole of course – and he was sure he was going to win the bet. Gojo felt his cock leak as your pretty pussy clenched around the toy, his hand wavering slightly at the thought of it being his– ‘cause God, you’d squeeze him so fucking hard sometimes when he fucked you that he saw stars. Your pussy slicked the little toy with a mass of your arousal, glistening the ribbed toy beautifully and he had to stop himself from drooling. 

When he wins the bet, he’s going to suck the life out of you– your clit and your soul.

The fucking bet sucked his soul right out of him though; all he wanted right now was you on his lap, quivering against him as he played with you. His dick would settle right against the small of your back and he’d grind up into it as you rutted yourself against the little toy and then he’d press the head of his cock right against your aching cunt– maybe even next to the juddering toy, teasing you until you were crying for him and– 

“Stop toying with her.”

The vibrator was delicately pulled out of you, the pleasure ceasing and leaving you empty with pure neediness. You whined out, trying to grasp at Geto’s wrist but his black portal had materialized next to it and another one of his curses grabbed you and kept you still. You grimaced in disgust, leaning forward from Geto before you were forcefully pushed back by strong, uncontrolled energy. 

Gojo was wildly annoyed; you could tell. In fact, you weren’t sure if he could go one more second without touching you– or punching Geto square in the face. 

“Gojo, don’t–” You started, but it was too late now. He was livid, because how dare Geto. How dare he just fucking pull it right out of you with not even an inkling of regret etched on his face. Especially since you were so close– he sensed it, practically saw you tensing up in chase of your release and he just ruins it for you? 

“I’m not toying with her. That was fucking allowed–! Put it back in her.” Gojo growled, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. Animosity dripped from his presence, his body leaning close towards yours before stopping in harrow. 

“Do it yourself.�� Geto smirked. He definitely wanted to get under Gojo’s skin; anything to get him to lose the bet. “Maybe I’ll fuck my cock in instead…”

You noticed Gojo stiffen, a menacing look painting his face for a split second before it fell away into a lazed attitude. You watched as his jaw clenched, his fists balling up against his lap as he crouched forward. He had a slight pout to his features, which you adored– he was always in a mood whenever it came to Geto’s taunting. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh? Satoru– you should know me by now.” 

“That’s cheating, Sugu.” You leaned up to look at him, kissing at his jawline to prevent any more arguing. His hands found your clit again, feigning more circles into the soft bud and you cooed at him with a tiny whine. His fingers dipped into your pussy slightly which in turn, made you buck your hips against them and his eyes never left Gojo’s as they tranced him into a challenge.

“Who cares? I’ll win anyway. I’m just getting a headstart into the night, pretty.” Before you had time to readjust underneath Geto’s intoxicating touch, his curses pulled you upwards; sitting you directly against Geto’s thick cock. 

And there it was– a flash of blue. Your body was instantly flush against Gojo’s chest, his strong arms embracing you like he was trying to protect you from harm. He pulled you into a desperate kiss, his fingers roaming over your waist as he lapped his tongue against yours in a soft hum. God, he missed this– he missed you, even though it was only for a few minutes. As his mouth sucked a tiny bruise down your neck, revelling in the way you keened, he vowed to never fucking make a bet with Geto Suguru ever again. 

Geto’s curses faded away back into the portal, disintegrating against the black mass as soon as Gojo touched you. “Told you, Y/N.” 

Geto’s big hands wrapped against your hips, the tip of his cock already prodding against your entrance as he aimed to mount you right then and there. No, he didn’t want to waste any time because just as quickly as Gojo lost the bet, he could turn it towards his favor; the damned idiot spinning you like a hot wheel whenever he flashed his mesmerizing eyes at you.

One wink and you could probably squirt a mile for him. 

Geto turned your chin towards him with his forefinger, his dark eyes sending chills down your spine as he bottomed out. You took to your hands and knees, unable to hold onto Gojo any longer as Geto filled you full. A slight blush spread throughout his cheeks as he let out a low deep groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Fuck… Just keep your eyes on me, darling.” 

You had your eyes on him for like five seconds before your head was tilted back towards Gojo, his cock now directly in front of you and he slicked the tip against your mouth while pumping it shallowly. “Open wide, baby.”

“Not going to scold me, Satoru?” Geto teased, pulling out his cock lightly and slamming it back into with fervor. You whimpered out, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as Gojo tried to feed his cock into your mouth. 

“Just need her right now– shit…” He stuttered out as you sunk down on him eagerly, his cock hitting the back of your throat in one go. Oh, you must’ve broken him– his entire body jolted forwards to fuck into your mouth and his mouth dropped open in a shuddering moan. Or he was already broken beforehand, unable to keep his cock to himself as you were almost fucked without his permission. 

Geto was a dirty cheater, but a brilliant fucker; his hips snapped into you at the perfect angle and you whined happily around Gojo’s cock as he rammed into your sweet spot. You drooled on Gojo’s cock, unable to do anything but take it– take both of them in one sitting and try not to die from the pressure building in your tummy. Geto fucked into you so deep, his stamina barely faltering as he pounded you from the back with breathless pants seeping from his mouth. 

You wished you could turn back to look at him– or better yet, his hand tangled into your hair and pulled you towards him but he wouldn’t go that far to piss Gojo off. You could only imagine the sight of him, his long hair snaking down his back and sticking to the frame of his face while Gojo glared at him. Geto wouldn’t care though– because he won fair and square in his eyes, his cock pressing against your cervix with a tremble to his thighs now due to the way you clenched around him. 

And you knew Gojo wanted so badly to feel you squeeze around him– so you hollowed out your cheeks and smoothed one of your hands over his thigh as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He took the golden opportunity to face fuck you, his hips rolling into you with a broken groan. 

“Ah, k-keep going. That’s it… you love being stuffed by the both of us, huh? Can’t even fucking think straight– fuck, do that again…” Gojo babbled above you as his hips thrusted into your wet mouth, your tongue sliding up the underside of his twitching cock. 

You felt your release practically racing towards you as Geto fucked into you relentlessly now, the crown of his cock catch on your hole each and every time he plunged in. You breathed through your nose as your walls fluttered around him through your orgasm, feeling the warmth of Geto’s following not long after. 

His groans were quickly overtaken by Gojo’s desperate little whines, both of their hips slapping against you being one of the few sounds in the room. Gojo could only be out of the limelight for so long before his moans became downright filthy whimpers when he came down your throat, burying his cock deeply into your mouth. “Swallow it all, princess. Don’t waste a goddamn drop…” 

And you did– you swallowed every goddamn drop that dribbled from his cock while Geto fucked his cum into you greedily. As you pulled off of Gojo’s cock, you wobbled against the bed slightly before the two of them held you up and placed you carefully against the pillows. Looking at the two of them, there seemed to be no sign of ill intent racking their brains. Maybe they wouldn’t fight and you could sleep peacefully, snuggled against them in a warm, cozy blanket.

“Next time you make a bet, fucking keep it Suguru.” Gojo breathed out, his voice void of malice but there still was a bite to it. Wedged between the two of them, you felt Geto shake with laughter– the mocking kind that dug at Gojo’s psyche.

Or maybe not.

“What, you really think you’ll win next time?”

“I know I will.”

a/n: y'all want them to make another bet or no?

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦ #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto x female reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #satosugu x y/n #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

[love-bitesx]

okay but imagine pavitr trying to play wingman for hobie to get with the reader and how funny/cute it would be

longer requests will be out this week, thank u all for the amazing support!! love you guys sm

: ̗̀➛ WINGMAN. hobie brown x reader headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

oh, he would be so annoying. in the best way.

you’d joined the spider society not long after the others, immediately clicking within the dynamic and it wasn’t uncommon for you all to just hang out in each others dimensions after a mission.

at first, hobie thought you’d simply peaked his interest because of your unspoken nature. constantly standing up for yourself and other spider people, putting people in their place if need be, just your general backbone intrigued him. you felt different to the others. that’s all he thought.

that was, until one afternoon, you were all packed into your apartment, music playing from the stereos and pavitr talking everybody’s ear off about god knows what. hobie had been silent for a while, no reason in particular, he’d been fiddling with the badges on his leather vest, in his own little world. well, until he felt a hand on his knee.

“hobie,” your voice was low, subtle, hanging just below the decibels of the melodies booming through the room, “are you alright? you’ve been quite quiet.”

“oh, uh,” he was taken aback, possibly by your hand that still lingered on his jeans, or how close he suddenly realised you were, seeing the soft details of your face and pigment in your cheeks for the first time, “yeah, no, i’m fine.” he cleared his throat.

smiling back at him, you took your hand away, moving back to get involved in the conversation again, not thinking much of it. regretfully, hobie looked up and saw pavitr staring at him, clearly having watched the ordeal and the excited smirk on his face told him that he’d definitely seen hobie flustered. he sighed.

after pavitr worked out that hobie had a thing for you, it was over for him.

he couldn’t even LOOK in your direction, without the shorter man hopping into his personal space, nudging him hard in the ribs, singing something about kissing in a tree.

constant comments about you to hobie

“y/n, i love your shirt! hobie, doesn’t it look so cool?”

“y/n! hobie told me to tell you he loves your shoes.”

“doesn’t y/n look sooo nice today! huh? hobie? what do you think?”

he was in hell, actually.

there was only so many "yeah, nice" he could say to you before he started to sound like a prick

on missions, he was insufferable

constantly making you guys work together somehow

“miguel, i think me and gwen work best as a team, don’t you think? y/n and hobie should do this one together”

swinging through the streets of whichever earth you were sent to, hearing distant yells of pavitr calling after you both “aren’t they cute together?!”

“good morning, hobie,” you grinned, sleep still evident in your voice as you wandered into the headquarters, beckoning to miguel’s very early morning mission call.

god, he was so thankful to have you alone for once. relief settled itself on his shoulders at the absence of his best friends’ watchful eye, happy to interact with you comfortably.

“mornin’,” he spoke, stretching his legs mindlessly out across the length of the desk, leaning back onto his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“oh my god, i had the weirdest dream—” you begun, hopping up onto the adjoining surface, eyes lit up with passion as you ranted about the dream you had just resurfaced from.

he watched you the whole time, lips curling into a smile at the way you threw your hands around in the air as you spoke, reeling into every detail about your nonsensical experience. nodding every so often, he was almost enthralled by you – taking this peaceful moment as an advantage to see you properly. you were tired, sleep still evident in your eyes, hair a little chaotic in places, but the soft glow that it gave you made his heart skip.

he’d totally lost himself in speaking to you, listening to the excitement lacing your voice, that he didn’t realise other people had arrived.

well, until he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“you guys are so cute together!” pavitr’s sing-song voice pierced hobie’s ears, shocked at the newcomers, “i saw the way you looked at them, loverboy.”

the nickname stuck

he’d been addressed more by “loverboy” than his own name, and his insides churned every single time

even gwen started calling him it, to which hobie would send a threatening glare

when you eventually did end up seeing each other, whether that be dating or other stuff, you both swore to keep it a secret

hobie refused to give pavitr the satisfaction of knowing he was right

so you would sneak around together, kissing in places you shouldn’t, stealing knowing glances in meetings, secret touches when no one was looking

he loved the risk of it all

but it was one afternoon, you’d both slipped away into an empty lab at the spider society headquarters, giggling to each other like kids as he dragged you into the vacant room

his hands were all over you, lips brushing whatever skin he could see, your arms slung around his neck as you kissed him

“did you lock the door?” you asked

“i thought you did.”

“OH. MY. GOD.” a third voice yelled.

you yelped, jumping away from hobie as a last ditch effort to maybe save some face

it was too late, pavitr stood there, mouth agape

hobie sighed, hanging his head

“GWEN! THEY DID IT!”

pavitr stepped back into the hallway and ran down towards where you’d both left them, his voice carrying through the metal walls

“LOVERBOY DID IT!”

you stood there, unsure whether if you just remained still, you could avoid whatever consequences you both faced

that was, until you felt hobie’s arm slide around your waist, pulling you back into him, an unintelligible look on his face

“we can’t keep it a secret anymore, i guess.” you spoke first, he let out a laugh

“i don’t think that’s such a bad thing,” he kissed you, softly.

a/n: hope this was okay!! currently got a bunch of requests in the works, so keep an eye out for more!!! also anymore headcanon ideas would be so fun!! thank u

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie x you

[itsbuckytm]

Envy and Passion / Coriolanus Snow

summary : being the daughter of Casca Highbottom had its advantages and challenges. As long as one maintained a private and noble demeanor associated with the family name, there were benefits to enjoy. However, the downside came in the form of her father's deep-seated animosity towards the Snow family. despite this, the Coriolanus Snow devised a plan to reunite her, foreseeing a journey towards greatness, enduring purity, lust and a lasting legacy.

ps ; read part two!!

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you

You experienced contentment as a student at the Capitol's Academy, all thanks to your father's insistence that you become involved in his work until graduation. It was during your final year that the announcement for the 10th Hunger Games came unexpectedly early. While you had expected to work alongside Dr. Gaul as a Gamemaker, you found yourself assisting during the reaping ceremony. It was there that you first encountered Snow. 

"No distractions." Your father emphasized, implying a prohibition on interactions with your classmates. Despite the difficulty in ignoring the palpable tension between him and Snow, a part of you harbored a wish that, without the animosity, a friendship could have blossomed. That's what you longed for—a connection you could deem as friendship. To everyone’s surprise, Highbottom's daughter being chosen among the mentors became the talk of the Academy, thrusting you into the limelight against your wishes. Being the center of attention was something you despised the most.

"Miss Highbottom." Dr. Gaul greeted you as you entered the room designated for the impending reaping ceremony. The enthusiasm in her voice hinted at some special arrangements for your role and, perhaps, your involvement in a specific aspect of the Games. However, such expectations shifted when you observed Snow's silhouette standing beside her. A brief exchange between the two suggested an ongoing conversation, making you contemplate to excuse yourself of interrupting further. Despite this, Dr. Gaul, with her customary smile, welcomed your presence and inquired. "Have you met Mr. Snow?"

Did you meet him? Undoubtedly, you had. Given your father's openly declared animosity towards him, it was clear that some past conflict existed between your father and Snow's. Yet, the perplexing part was why such strong feelings were directed at the son, who was merely alive and fulfilling the responsibilities of a dutiful citizen. That remained a mystery to you. "Certainly, I have. My father never stops talking about him. How he 'adores' him." you replied with a touch of irony. In the peculiar logic of your father, adoration seemed to coexist with complete disdain. 

Snow's demeanor appeared uneasy in your presence, yet he quickly regained confidence when he noted your affirmation. Whether you were suggesting this to please Dr. Gaul or for some other reason, he intended to assert his dominance once alone, especially with a member of the Highbottom family. However, instead of confrontation, he simply smiled and acknowledged the subtle comment. "I can't say I'd be eager to hear what Y/N's father thinks of me, let alone my family's name." He remarked. 

"Don't take it personal." You suggested, a smile playing on your features as you attempted to lighten the moment while conversing with Snow. It was intriguing to encounter the Snow your father so vehemently despised, and yet, here he was, appearing composed and not entirely matching the description your father painted. "My father has always had a soft spot for pretty faces." You added with a hint of irony.

In the realm of subjective beauty, Snow found it almost amusing to consider that you held your own private entertainment. Embracing your father's comments, you became a figure easily envied, yet the tension shared between them made it difficult not to be stirred. Fairly speaking, you stood out as one of the most attractive girls in the class, alongside Clemensia; the two of you complemented each other seamlessly. Described as cold as the winter’s snow due to the striking contrast between your fair skin and dark locks inherited from your mothers, you and Clemensia exhibited a captivating allure. Snow entertained the notion that if he delved even further into the profound depths of your eyes, he might lose himself completely—in love, that is. And he hated every bits of it. 

"If I were you, I'd be on my best behavior, sweetheart." He advised, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Dr. Gaul was observing. You could almost swear you saw her smile transform into a devious smirk, a subtle admission that she relished the spectacle before her—a spectacle of envy and hatred entangled in a mutual trap. "And what will happen if I don't?" You countered, striving to maintain control just as your father made his entrance, signaling the commencement of the reaping ceremony. His eyes fell upon you and Snow in close proximity, prompting him to be the first to assert authority. "Snow, to your seat now." He commanded. It was evident that Snow's disdain for your father resurfaced as he shot you a final glance before begrudgingly taking his seat.

Fortuitously, you found yourself seated next to him. In all honesty, you had orchestrated this arrangement, intending to be by his side even before your father's disapproving gaze hinted at a switch. However, it was too late by then; the ceremony had commenced, and your father's attention was fully absorbed in the mentors and assigned tributes. This provided you with the perfect opportunity to approach Snow once again. Leaning in, both eyes fixed on the screen to maintain an appearance of focus, you remarked. "You know, if it weren't for my father's animosity towards you, I'd be eager to get to know you."

Snow's piercing blue eyes shifted from the screen to yours. He blinked twice, as if questioning whether he had heard correctly. Highbottom's own daughter appeared to be permitting their adversary to draw a little closer. Or perhaps, in her eyes, he wasn't an enemy at all. He chuckled ever so slightly at the ironic situation. “And if it wasn’t for your father’s constant reminder that my own father was an asshole, I’d say that his own daughter is the most prettiest and fuckable girl I have ever laid my eyes upon.” 

A blush crept beneath your features, a delicate balance of beauty that Snow took pleasure in accentuating. You shared the same acknowledgment as he did, though you maintained a touch more class, unlike him. He tended to be straightforward and always in control, a demeanor he effortlessly displayed as he rendered his fellow classmate completely vulnerable with his words. Leaning in further, his fingers traced along your thigh, causing a tingling sensation at its touch and making your blush more evident. "To be fair, I've always had my eyes on you, you know?" He confessed. "Dr. Gaul wanted to make a proposition earlier and suggested that we work together for the whole semester, even having the lab all to ourselves…" 

“Meaning?” Of course you knew. Having the Lab to yourselves meant that Snow was going to make sure that he had every bits of fantasies piled through him just to have you all too himself. “Meaning, I’ll be able to fuck you endlessly. Maybe a distraction is what I do need after all. Can’t say that especially having the luck to be with Highbottom’s most gorgeous daughter.” 

That wasn't until Snow himself became entranced by your beauty, especially when it was his turn to learn about the tribute he was about to meet. "Coriolanus Snow." Your father's voice echoed with the same undertones of hatred and boredom, his disdain evident at the mention of a name from a generation he feared would worsen Panem. "District 12. Girl." Snow's gaze shifted from the screen to the captivating performance you were putting on. Yet, his current fixation remained on you. Leaning in further, he let his breath linger in the crook of your neck, his lips gently brushing your skin, and you could've sworn you felt a few pecks too. Fortunately, your father remained oblivious, continuing to list the remaining mentors. Suppressing a silent giggle, you pretended that Snow had said something amusing. "And how about..." He continued, placing a few more pecks on your neck. Delicately, you tried not to make your blush too obvious. "After the ceremony, I have to get some paperwork done at the lab. It would be a shame if I didn't have something to keep me focused." 

“Why of course, Mister Snow.” You admitted it so effortlessly, causing Snow's smile to transform into a cunning smirk. It was a smirk filled with desire, and longing. Snow yearned to experience the taste of you and hear you utter his name, just so your father could discover that his own daughter had unknowingly fallen into Snow's snare. From this moment forward, you belonged completely to him.

“Then, I’ll make sure to know who you belong to. Princess.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagine

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Bots or people pretending to be celebrities/public figures are incredibly fucking annoying.

#IG informed me today that Mike McCready_2 followed me on IG #and the bio claimed it was 'his personal account' and had no profile pic/no posts and was following like 2k people. #HOW STUPID DO I LOOK. ffs. I really REEEEEALLY hate it especially when bots/people do that with people I actually like. #because the .01 seconds of excitement/intrigue is swiftly followed by 'YOU REALLY THINK I'M THAT GULLIBLE HUH. FUCK YOU' #I was also really confused because I don't even follow Mike on IG and haven't interacted with his posts in a long time #so I have no idea how that account even found me. like...goodbye? yes goodbye. no hello just goodbye.

[maiiiwrites]

★ | ATTENTION STUDENTS . JPEG

PAIRING ! theodore nott x f!reader

IN WHICH your arrival at hogwarts is stirring up trouble

you roamed the halls of hogwarts. feeling overwhelmed in a good way. no words are enough to explain how happy you are to finally be here. the transfer process took so long and stressed everyone who handled it. thankfully your parents assigned someone to do the papers for you.

your arrival at hogwarts mid term grabbed everyone's attention. everyone had questions and wasn't exactly quiet about their theories. they wanted to know who, what, where, why you we're here.

"a new student? in the middle of the term?"

"how odd is that?"

"look there she is, the new student"

you continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge the students trying to get your attention. you were only looking forward to one person. in that exact moment, your eyes finally met for the first time in months. you couldn't mask your excitement from that interaction alone.

theodore didn't expect a new student, much less his lovely girlfriend. his gaze softened and a small smile managed to slip through.

two souls finally feeling each others presence after being apart for too long

that's how it went for the next few days. just simple little glances and the occasional exchange of letters. much to theodore's dismay, his subtle actions of affection did not go unnoticed by the group.

blaise was particularly nosey about his relationship with you. he was always the one who caught onto the small smiles across the hall, playing on the thread bracelet on his wrist, and the hidden love letters in his desk drawer.

"sooo.. theodore what's up with you and the new gal," blaise not so subtly asked during breakfast.

theodore perked at the mention of you, "nothing."

"oh come on there's obviously something! at least give me a hint," blaise continued.

"sure. here's a hint, im not telling you."

theodore knew there was no escaping this. they're bound to find out sooner or later. for now, the plan was to stay silent and leave loose ends. leave them curious for a while, but his fool proof plan came crashing down the moment you walked in the great hall.

you smiled at your friends seated at the table. looking forward to having your stomach filled. however, boys surrounded you with gifts and letters before you could even settle down.

you attempted to slip away but they were simply too much. feeling more crowded by the passing second. theodore didn't like how crowded you seemed. the obvious panic on your features was his last straw.

he abruptly stood up from his seat and walked towards you. leaving his friends intrigued by the sudden outburst.

theodore easily made his way to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. the action catching you by surprise until realizing its just theo. your theo.

"everyone back off! you're making my girl feel uncomfortable,"

the whole hall went silent at the confession. the crowd of boys slowly disappeared heartbroken and taken aback from theodore's claim. leaving his act of affection on display for everyone to see.

you turn around facing theodore. finally seeing him up close since your arrival.

"is it just me or you got prettier since the last time i saw you?" you teased.

theodore rolled his eyes and kissed the corner of your lips. "you've been causing a lot of trouble lately," theodore hummed.

you gasp, faking offense by his words. "are you accusing your sweet girlfriend?"

he laughed at your silly antics and hugged you tighter. "never, trouble."

you smiled hearing your special nickname.

"i love you and all but your friends are burning holes through my head," you point, particularly at blaise. theodore finally realized you're both (still) in the middle of the great hall wrapped in each others arms.

he chuckled finding the entire situation funny. theodore finally let you go and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i better go back, trouble."

"does this mean we can visit each other now.." you beamed.

who has he to deny your love and attention. "always."

© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

#www.iloveharrypotter.com #. * ᕀ my blurbs ° . #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff

[ghcstao3]

something something civilian AU. something something johnny ends needing an ambulance after breaking his leg and they put him on painkillers that make him woozy and even more bold with his speech than usual.

something something the emt that helps him is tommy, and johnny flirts with him the entire way to the hospital because all he’s thinking beyond the dulling pain in his leg and the floaty feeling of his body is wow, blond. tommy just laughs him off, used to having been flirted with by patients before, only entertaining johnny’s advances to get him to cooperate with their checks. it’s as he’s wheeled off to get proper care that he asks for tommy’s number, to which tommy shakes his head and says sorry, i’m taken, flashing the gold wedding ring now that his gloves have been removed.

johnny frowns at that. goes quiet a long moment. then asks, d’you have a brother then?

tommy snorts but doesn’t dignify johnny with an answer, merely sending him on his way. but johnny clings onto the fact that this emt never said no to his question.

and apparently tommy telling simon the story later is enough to have him intrigued, only half joking when he offers to visit johnny in hospital before he’d likely be discharged the next day—but tommy won’t give up the man’s name because he’s still professional, and besides, johnny likely wouldn’t remember the interaction just a few hours from when he had made it.

but he does, of course. he still wonders if the emt would do him a kindness and send his brother johnny’s way, but it never happens. what does happen, however, is days later at a grocery store, as johnny struggles on his crutches to reach something on a higher shelf, simon ends up helping him as he is coincidentally wandering down that aisle. johnny thanks him, then does a double take, squinting.

aren’t you the emt that brought me to hospital the other day? i asked about your brother, right? he says. i’m really sorry about—

i’m not, simon interrupts. and just as johnny’s face falls, but i do happen to be said brother.

oh. johnny’s eyes go wide. oh!

simon grins, his smile endearingly shy as it is lopsided. yeah. here, i’ll help you out. in the meantime you can repeat everything you told my brother.

johnny goes bright red, initially sputtering out his responses, not at all confident like he was while on painkillers. but by the end of the shopping trip, as simon helps load bags into johnny’s car (he’d been so lucky to break his non-driving leg), his flirting has returned full swing, this time with simon’s reciprocation. of course, they plan for a first date.

(and years down the line, much to johnny’s chagrin, tommy already has his best man speech fully prepared with the story that started it all.)

#silly idea today for u guys #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

something that we’re not // fred weasley

Summary: You and Fred are friends. Best Friends. Who happen to cuddle and sleep in bed together all the time.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: lots of pda, fluff, jealousy, reader gets slapped by her friend

A/N: As always, remember English is not first language. Also, thanks to @coffee-jelly544​ for proofreading this.

main masterlist

You huffed with relief and exhaustion as you exited the potions classroom and made your way through the dungeons to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Detention with Snape was the most agonizing experience you'd ever had. You've spent the last two and a half hours cleaning cauldrons just because you hadn’t turned in your essay on time, and it didn’t help that the greasy-haired professor had it in for you.

You weren't sure what was the cause of this animosity. You were a straight A student, always acing your exams and were proud to say you’re very good at potions. However, Snape always seems to have something against you. Also, you supposed it didn't help that Fred and George Weasley were your best friends. At every opportunity the twins would try to prank or annoy the teacher, seemingly without remorse and understanding of the consequences of their actions.

‘He must enjoy sucking the life out of his students.’

“Hi there, love,” Fred's cheerful voice greeted you as you entered the common room through the portrait hole. He was sitting on the wide sofa, with George next to him. You spotted Angelina in one of the love-arm seats and Lee on the floor near George's knees, even though there was another vacant love-arm seat in the room.

When he noticed your long face, the older twin reached out his arms and drew you into his lap.

“How was detention?” George asked.

“Awful,” you mumbled against Fred's chest. He caressed your back while his other hand played with your fingers absentmindedly. “I hate Snape.”

Lee guffawed, "I don't think anyone in their right mind likes Snape."

“Greasy prick had me scrubbing his filthy cauldrons for two and a half hours.”

“Oh! How dare he,” Fred mocked dramatically, causing a small smile to break out on your face. “Do you want Georgie and I to prank him?”

You lifted your face to connect your gaze with his, “Would you?”

“Anything for you, snookums.”

At his honest response, you squeezed his waist and buried yourself further into his chest.

“Perhaps you could try not to get into trouble next time,” Angelina, who had been quiet until now, advised.

This made your brow furrow, “I only gave him the essay two days late, and it was because I was bedridden, as you know.”

“Yeah, Angie,” George came to your defense, “Snape only gave her detention 'cause he has a grudge against us.”

Your eyes grew heavy, and the muscles in your face relaxed, releasing the strain of the day. Your limbs became limp, heartbeat growing tranquil. Your breathing slowed as you felt the steady rise and fall of Fred’s chest.

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” Fred teased.

You hummed, “I might. You are quite comfortable.”

With a smirk on his face, Fred accepted the remark, “That I’ve been told before.”

George rolled his eyes at the silly—but typical— interaction between you two. Like the rest of your friends, he had grown accustomed to your flirting and displays of public affection, which you swore wasn’t hiding anything romantic.

“Carry me to bed?” You didn’t have to ask him twice. Fred tightened his grip on you, and with you safe in his arms made his way up to the girls’ dorm without complaint.

“Are we sure they’re just friends?” Lee inquired, intrigued.

“That’s what they say,” Angelina said in response.

“Fred!” You whispered-yelled, trying to wake your friend up without disturbing the other three blissfully sleeping on their mattresses. “Fred!” You tried again, this time lightly shaking his arm.

“Y/N/N?” His speech was sluggish, and his eyes were barely open, still half-asleep. The redhead looked down at his nightstand; the clock there marking 2:30 in the morning. “What happened?”

“I had a nightmare.”

Fred detected something peculiar in your small voice, and somehow knew you had been crying. He lifted the covers off his bed, inviting you to get in. He drew you close, your head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding once you were in the safety of his arms. You gripped him in fear that he would vanish, and you were pleading with him to stay with you.

Fred noticed your distress and asked, “What happened, love?”

“I had a nightmare,” tears filled in your eyes as you recounted the images that had woken you up in the dead of the night. “You– You died, Freddie,” you wept, out of breath. Fred tightened his grip on you. “It was awful.”

“It was just a dream,” he tried to soothe you, running his hand through your hair.

“There was a war, and you were there, and there was this wall… it crumbled, and the rubble—” you couldn’t finish telling him as your words broke into sobs. Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop.

“Shhh. I’m here, love. I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Freddie.”

“Who said anything about losing me?” He tried to lighten your mood. “You know I’m too stubborn to die.” He could feel you start to relax against him, but he still added, “You’re gonna have to put up with me for the rest of your life. It’s what you signed up for when you befriended me.”

His stupidity managed to make you crack a smile, and your choppy breathing and watery eyes slowly came to a stop. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Good. Me neither.”

Neither of you spoke again. You didn’t return to your dorm, and Fred didn’t ask you to either. You knew that if you let go of Fred's arm now, the nightmare would most likely strike again, depriving you of a good night's sleep.

Being wrapped in Fred’s arms calms you down and allows you to fall asleep, and slumber hits you after a few minutes.

The sun flowed golden through the window, making a polite announcement for the rising sun. The sunlight created rainbow diamonds that swirled across the wall's canvas.

“Good morning, lovebirds,” George’s chippy voice made you groan and bury further in Fred’s chest.

“They look very cozy, don’t you think, George?” You recognized Lee's voice.

“They certainly do, Lee.”

“Shut up!” Fred opened his eyes and tossed his pillow at his brother and best friend, who were standing at the foot of his bed. “People are trying to sleep over here.”

“Have you seen what time it is? You'll be in trouble if someone sees Y/N leave the room at this hour.”

That caused you to widen your eyes and turn to look at the clock. It was barely half an hour before breakfast.

“Oh shit!” You exclame.

“Why didn’t you wake us up sooner?”

George shrugged as he gazed at his brother. “You seemed very comfortable. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

The older twin rolled his eyes.

“Hey Y/N,” Lee called for your attention. “You are welcome to return tonight and sleep in my bed. I’m a better cuddler than Freddie.”

George laughed at his friend’s suggestion, but it didn't elicit the same emotion in Fred, who rolled out of bed and smacked his friend across his head.

“Ouch,” he grumbled, massaging his head.

“Watch it, Jordan,” Fred warned, pointing his finger at him.

“Yeah, Lee. Don’t you know Freddie boy here is the only one allowed to cuddle little Y/N/N?”

Fred was about to reprimand his brother when he was startled by the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut. When he turned around, he saw that you had already left the room.

You crept down the hallway of the boys’ dorms back to your room trying not to be caught by other students. When you reached the girls' dorms there's a loud noise around the corner and you quickly ducked into an alcove. You peek out and spot a group of girls chatting and laughing as they walk down the hall toward the common room.

Once the coast was clear, you went to your dorm and softly pushed the door open, trying to make as little noise as possible, until you were safely inside.

“G’day, buttercup,” Your friend, Alicia Spinnet, greeted you. “Fun night?”

She and Angelina were already dressed in their uniforms, gazing at you  like a deer caught in headlights. Angelina was looking at you, admonishing, while Alicia's eyes were amused. You didn't need to tell them where you'd spent the night because you were confident they already knew.

“You should not be sneaking into the boys’ dorms late at night. I’m sure you have plenty of time to snog your boyfriend during the day.”

“C’mon, Angie. Let the girl have her fun.”

You frowned at her. “Fred’s not my boyfriend.”

Angelina laughed at you humorlessly. “Yeah, sure.”

“What’s your problem?” You approached her, facing her. “You’ve been a bitch to me lately for no reason.”

“I’m the bitch? I’m not the one that sneaks into the boys’ room in the middle of the night.”

“I’m sorry that my friendship with Fred bothers you that much, but blaming me for his rejection will not make him want you.”

Something smacked against your face, and your cheek began to sting. When you realize your friend had slapped you, your heart began to race.

Angelina had always been there for you, through everything. She was, along with the twins, one of the first people you befriended during your first year at Hogwarts. But now, after years of friendship, she had finally let herself go too far. Slapping you in the face hard was something you never expected from her.

“Angie!” Alicia gasped horrified.

“It’s alright,” you interjected, taking a long breath. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you altered. “Do you feel better now?” You looked at your friend, but you didn’t wait for her reply nor did you expect her to reply. You picked up your uniform from your trunk and made your way to the bathroom.

It'd been a week since your altercation with Angelina. She couldn't get the rage out of her head since then. Every time she saw you, she would experience an illogical outburst of anger. You haven’t tried to talk with her either. You were stubborn, but you weren't in the wrong this time, and she had no right to tell you the awful things she did, let alone hit you.

As if on cue, Angelina and Alicia entered the room. The smile on Angelina’s face caused by whatever Alicia said evaporated as her gaze was drawn to the table in front of her—you were sitting on one of the Gryffindor common room sofas. Fred's head rested on your lap, his legs sprawled out along the length of the couch while you ran your fingers through his ginger locks, braiding them.

Anger simmered inside her as she glared at you. She stomped her foot and mumbled a string of curses, her hands into fists as she marched towards the stairs that led to the dorms. Alicia smiled apologetically and followed her friend's lead.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fred gazed up at you, perplexed by the Quidditch Captain's actions.

“She’s upset that you don’t wanna go to the Yule Ball with her.”

“Still? Godric, you girls need to let things go.”

“You tell her that,” you grumbled, “She thinks we are dating.”

Fred didn’t seem fazed by your words. “Yeah. Lee and George think so too.”

“You have really soft hair,” you muttered, trying to change the topic of the conversation, as you didn’t like where it was heading.

“It’s the Weasley gene,” he joked, making you laugh.

“See, you can’t do shit like that and not want us to think you’re a couple.”

George and Lee dashed down the stairwell. They strolled over, leaning over the back of the couch, looking with amused eyes at the display of affection between you and Fred.

“I’m just braiding his hair,” you said more defensively than intended.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have a best friend who braids your hair.”

The younger twin cracked a sly smirk. “Would you braid my hair, Y/N?”

“No, she won’t,” Fred answered almost in an instant, lacking amusement.

“Why not? She’s my friend too.”

“Exactly, you said it yourself— friend. Not best friends. You are just her friend. I’m her best friend and she can only have one best friend.”

“You’re so childish.”

“He’s like a possessive boyfriend who doesn’t like his girl hanging around with other guys,” Lee whispered in George’s ear.

“Watch this,” George mouthed at Lee, who was looking at him expectantly.

“Hey, Y/N,” you shifted your gaze away from Fred’s ginger locks to look at the other ginger. “Do you happen to have a date for the Yule Ball?”

Fred’s body stiffened at his brother’s words.

You squint your eyes at George’s question. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t asking just for the sake of asking. “I don’t.”

“Wanna go together?” He wriggled his eyebrows, “I’m the family's best dancer.”

“I doubt it,” you replied to him. “I bet Ginny’s got that talent, along with the brains.”

Lee roared a chuckle, and George placed a hand on his chest, a mock offended expression on his face.

“You hurt me, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Who are you going to go with, then? I doubt you'll find a more suitable suitor than me.”

“She’s going with me,” Fred replied casually.

You lowered your gaze at your friend. “I am?” You inquired, “When did you ask me?”

“Now,” he said, smiling broadly, “Would you do me the honor to accompany me to the Yule Ball, dear Y/N?

Yule Ball night.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, your reflection stared back at you. You had never felt so beautiful before. You admired your dress, feeling happy with how it looked on you.

You were wearing a beautiful gown in spring garden hues. It had delicate blossom details and it was made of beautifully draped plisse tulle that pleats over a nude corset bodice. Whispery yet regal, plisse tulle at skirt had underlayers with subtle sparkle that made it truly magical.

You spent hours debating what to do with your hair, and in the end, following Alicia’s suggestion of a low bun with a French braid. You wrapped the bun with a lock of hair already plaited in a French braid and pinned it in place. And as a final touch, you added a cute hair clip for some extra glitz.

“Wow,” your friend gasped behind you. You turned around to meet her already in her gown. “Fred’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you.”

“I can say the same about Lee,” you smiled, “Have you seen yourself? You’re stunning!”

You took one last look at your reflection in the mirror before leaving the dorm. You couldn’t help but smile at yourself; this is going to be a night to remember.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you as you descended the stairs. You had always been beautiful to him, but tonight you were especially stunning. Watching you now, he couldn't believe that he was about to have the chance to dance with you. He had a warm feeling inside of him, and he couldn't help but smile at you. As you came closer, he could see the happiness in your eyes, which made him even more excited.

“Hi,” you greeted him when you reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to him.

“Hey,” Fred smiled at you, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Shall we?” Fred inquired, extending his arm to you. You nodded and walked over to the Great Hall, linking your arm with his.

Soon enough, you were in the middle of the crowd, swirling around to the music. As you danced together, Fred felt like nothing could tear you apart. You laughed and smiled as you moved around the ballroom, and it was honestly one of the happiest moments of Fred's life.

As the night progressed and the music got slower and more sentimental, you knew that this would be one of the most memorable nights of your life.

“Are you having a good time?” Fred asked. You had your arms around his neck and his hands were respectfully on your waist as you swayed to the rhythm of the music.

You hummed in response and gazed up at him. “Thank you for taking me. Even if you only did it to piss your brother.”

“What?” he frowned, “I didn’t take you to piss George off. He asked you to piss me off.” Fred grumbled.

“Why would it piss you off me coming with him?”  

Fred tensed briefly at your question, but he quickly brushed it off. “I didn’t say it would piss me off; I meant that he believed it would piss me off,” he quickly explained, “Y’know, since he thinks we’re dating.”

You took in his explanation, still not convinced enough. “And then you asked me just to prove to him that it did, in fact, piss you off?”

“I asked because I wanted to spend the night with you.”

“Then why did you wait ‘till the last minute?”  

You weren’t truly bothered, but you liked how he squirmed with each question you threw at him. It was hilarious to watch him so uneasy. It wasn’t something you were used to, so you were savoring the moment.

He was going to defend himself again when he saw the smile breaking out on your face. “You’re so mean,” he pouted.

“Sorry. You’re fun to mess with.”

As the songs continued to play and you kept swaying, you slowly –and probably unconsciously– brought each other in close until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other and you could feel each other's pulses racing under their skin.

“A little too close for a friend’s dance,” Angelina's crabby voice resonated among her friends at the table as they watched you and Fred dance a few feet away.

Alicia sighed at her friend’s snarky comment. She was tired of the situation and being in the middle of her two best friends’ feud, trying not to take sides.

“Still upset by Fred’s rejection?” Lee teased, “Or is it the fact that he’s in love with your best friend that bothers you?”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “I don’t bloody care who he likes. They could just say they're together once and for all, and not make us look stupid.”

“I don’t think they are together,” George chimed in, after a lengthy gulp of firewhiskey. “But there’s definitely something there.”

Lee frowned at the younger twin, “What made you change your mind?”

He was perplexed by his friend's quick change of heart. George was the first to suspect you and his twin were secretly dating and denying it to annoy them.

The ginger simply shrugged and sipped his drink again.

“I wish the school did more things like this,” you reflected. You were sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor’s Common Room, the ball had ended hours before, but the night hadn't ended for you and Fred. He was seated next to you, with your head resting on his shoulder. You sat there watching the fireplace flames dance and shimmer. You've always enjoyed the sound of a crackling fire and the warmth it provided during the winter months. However, Fred was completely focused on you. He admired the flickering light from the fireplace as it played off your features, making them shine. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He loved everything about you, from your laugh to your dimples.

Fred had never felt this way about someone. 'Should I say something? What if she thinks it's weird?' Maybe it was just because he'd never had that type of connection with anybody else before, but he didn't want to ruin it by intruding on your night.

“You didn’t have enough of my dance moves, did you?” He laughed, attempting to put any other thoughts to the back of his mind.

“You were pretty good. Surprisingly.”

A faux offended expression played on your best friend’s face. “Excuse me?” Fred placed a hand on his chest in mockery. “What do you mean by surprisingly?”

Before you could even get a clue of what was happening, you were pinned down on the couch, Fred's body hovering over you while his large fingers tickled your sides. You laughed hard, doubling over in pain and joy.

“Stop,” you said between giggles, trying to get away from him as he tickled you further.

"Okay, okay," you finally said when you knew you'd never be able to break free from Fred's grip, “I give up.”

When he was done, you lay there, gasping for air and laughing uncontrollably.

Fred reached for your face with his palm, tucking away a few strands of your hair, clearing the way so your gazes could meet.

You've always thought Fred’s eyes were beautiful and bright, always holding something special inside. It was difficult to put into words how much you loved looking into them, but it was definitely something special. Maybe it was just the way they made you feel small and vulnerable in a way that nobody else ever had, but there was just something about them that made you complete.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered ever so softly, and something turned in your stomach.

“You live to flatter.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“I never said I loved you.”

He smirked at your words. “Then, tell me,” he challenged, “Tell me you love me.”

You grew a sneaky grin on your face, moved in closer — if that was possible — and whispered in his ear, “Make me.”

His eyes darkened, and his smile became wider. His fingers sank into your waist again before you could react. “Tell me you love me!” he exclaimed.

“Never!” You shouted, giggling.

His fingers continued to tickle your sides, making you laugh, squirm, and beg him to stop.

“Say you love me, Y/N.”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing?” A reprimanding voice from the staircase made its way into the Common Room. “Do you know what time is it? You are gonna wake everyone up.”

George gave you a disapproving look, and he was too exhausted to see that he had wrecked the moment between his brother and you that Fred had been looking forward to for so long.

Fred sighed and got off of you, you followed his actions and went to pick up your heels from the floor.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you apologized to your friend, “You’re right, it’s late. I’m gonna head off to bed. Goodnight, guys.”

You didn’t spare a glance at the twins. You couldn’t look at Fred after what had happened,  and all you could think about was what might have happened if George hadn't walked in.

'Would you have confessed?

Would he have told you he loved you?

Would you have kissed?

What would it have felt to kiss his lips?'

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind of any stray thoughts concerning you and Fred.

You were only friends.

Best friends.

And that’s all you’d ever be.

But would let the rest of the world keep thinking that you were something more.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fic #fred weasley one shot #harry potter imagine #fred and george weasley

[aklaustaleteller]

Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?

Home

Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?

Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3) Word Count - 4.0k

I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)

Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3

Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.

He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.

His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.

From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.

But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.

So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.

The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.

He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.

She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.

Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.

"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.

Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.

"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.

"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.

This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.

So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.

His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.

And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.

He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.

He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.

Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead. 

Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.

He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.

And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.  

But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer. 

That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth. 

“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age. 

Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa. 

“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth. 

“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.

“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.

“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her. 

“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now. 

“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.

“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red. 

And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down. 

“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.

“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.

“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”

She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away. 

“Do you wish to go home?”

“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him. 

“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?” 

The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek. 

“What’s your name, darling?” 

“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time. 

“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons. 

And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her  a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father. 

Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality. 

So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house. 

“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her. 

“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.

Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.

It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart. 

“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door. 

“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled. 

Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”

Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places. 

Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further. 

Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.

“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s. 

Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.

“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth. 

Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.

Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper. 

Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.

And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working. 

Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.

After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity. 

When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two. 

Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs. 

Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.

But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement. 

And that’s exactly what had happened just now. 

“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.

He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside. 

“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone. 

“Does that mean it’s reading time?” 

“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah. 

He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than. 

“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him. 

Surely, he must have come with a death wish. 

“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man. 

Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.

“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on. 

“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that. 

“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.

Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure. 

“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”

“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered. 

Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest. 

“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.

And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is. 

Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah. 

“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face. 

“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes. 

“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering. 

“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”

“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now. 

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus imagines #the vampire diaries #klaus michaelson #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #the vampire diares imagine #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #dom!klaus #sub!klaus #tvdu fanfiction #tvd fluff #tvdu fluff

[sanb3rry]

just finished blue lock and i can’t get that one episode of rin speaking in english out of my head…

may i request fluff of whipped!rin who so obviously pines for foreign!reader who he thinks doesn’t speak japanese (spoiler: they do!!) thank u ^.^

sorry it took me so long!! hope you like it <33

disclaimer !! : all times characters speak japanese will be written in bold italics.

hey, i think you're cute ! 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

it started off with small and frequent glances at the new manager. rin was just curious that was all it was, at least what it was supposed to be. for some reason, you're just so intriguing to him but he didn't exactly know why.

he sat next to you during one of the breaks and nudged you with his leg to get your attention before opening a small box of strawberry shortcake.

he knew for a fact you'd like it as he was listening to overheard you telling zantetsu out of all people that you did.

you glanced up from your volume of kimi ni todoke, "is that for me?" you asked, kinda confused.

the imaginary angel on your shoulder skipping and squealing over the thought of it and how this was ripped out of a shoujo manga.

rin nods, he was unable to maintain eye contact with you, you were so cute! this cannot be happening to him. the itoshi rin has a crush!? how preposterous!

"thank you, rin. that's really sweet of you." you said giddily as you put your book aside and took the cake.

he was happy as is, i mean his crush really sweet and pretty friend took the cake he bought just for her.

but, you had to go one step further and give him the first spoon. no no, not just give, feed him the first spoon. were foreigners always this bold? rin thinks his heart won't be able to handle this and thanks you before leaving.

you would've thought you made him uncomfortable but the flustered look on his face said otherwise.

"see you around, rin!" you waved. rin didn't hear you, he was too busy thinking about the interaction and trying to walk straight.

a few days passed before you were able to have a proper conversation with him.

"good day of training, rin?" you asked as you handed him his water bottle. "yes-" his words failed him as his eyes widened. did you just speak japanese or was he becoming crazy?

ten seconds passed by,

then twenty,

.

.

.

it's probably been a minute now.

rin just stood there staring at you, you were getting nervous. "are..are you alright? was i too informal?" you asked frantically, getting ready to apologise.

"no, sorry, you're fine. i . . . didn't know you spoke japanese." he said sheepishly, looking away from you.

"oh! that's okay. i was so sure you knew though." you wondered out loud.

rin thought back to all the times he should've caught on. your japanese version of manga, the fact that managers have to know at least a little japanese or get it taught to them through daily language classes, when you said bye to him a few days earlier. he mentally slapped himself.

"i should've known." he mumbled to himself, he's disappointed that he got so distracted with his feelings that he forgot basic context clues.

"don't beat yourself up for it, rin. anyways, i think julian is calling for you guys." you said as you glanced at julian.

you laughed nervously, "i better get back to work." a nervous shudder following your words as you think back of the time anri got angry at the managers for slacking off.

you waved to rin before leaving, he might not show it but if this were a tv show he'd have flowers and sparkles around him to show how happy he was.

© sanb3rry2024

#✿ san's work ! #✿ san answers ! #✿ fluff #— ✿ ooc. #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabbles #itoshi rin headcanons #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin hcs #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock drabbles #bllk x reader #bllk itoshi rin #bllk rin x reader #rin x reader #rin fluff #bllk rin fluff #bllk rin drabbles #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi fluff #rin itoshi drabbles #itoshi brothers #itoshi rin comfort

[azulaaaaaaah]

rating every zuko ship (cause that mf is shipped with everyone)

CLICKBAIT!!! this isn’t every zuko ship just the main ones i immediately lied lol. idk if any of these are hot takes or not but please don’t crucify me (might do a part 2 where it’s azula ships)

Jinko - Zuko/Jin

6/10

awwww it’s cute (for what it is)

and what it is was one singular date that was never really mentioned again

i really appreciate how jin is so unperturbed by zuko’s awkward angst and just genuinely likes him

howevvver she’s kinda one dimensional (as she’s only in like an episode) and i just don’t see this going anywhere longterm

less a ship, more a vehicle for zuko’s character development lol

Jetko- Zuko/Jet

3/10

jet being zuko’s first gay encounter is canon in my eyes

don’t ship them however cause i hate jet with the fire of a thousands suns

similar issues to jin as well where their interactions are extremely limited so personally have no clue how this could be a long term thing

Maiko- Zuko/Mai

5/10

i am so impartial on this ship it’s not even funny.

i get that it’s canon. i get that izumi looks suspiciously like mai so it’s endgame. i just don’t see HOW?? it feels as if the writers realised zutara was becoming popular and were like ‘OH SHIT WE GOTTA DEFUSE THIS SITUATION SOMEHOW’

their relationship is basically just mai being a cold asshole and zuko being an angry asshole and there’s no change or development between EITHER OF THEM

however when they’re cute they’re cute !!!!

‘i love zuko more than i fear you’ COLDEST LINE EVER

however again it’s like - you had a crush on him as a kid. he was BANISHED. you dated for like a month as teens. you argued the whole time. he left again- and shortly after you saved him from prison, but then you were imprisoned partly due to his actions. you get back together again, he becomes the ruler of a country, and then you’re surprised it’s isolating him/making him even more of an asshole???

on the other hand we as a society need to admit that zuko is weirdly possessive of her (ig that’s a positive if ur a booktok romance girlie but im not). like if i was mai i wouldn’t put up with that toxic shit either

at the end of the day, i honestly don’t care that they’re canon lol- but i think they’d probably best as a bitchy best friend duo

Zukaang - Zuko/Aang

1/10

not round here partner. not round here

my first issue is the age gap is objectively extremely weird if examined in canon. leaving it at that

i get that this is grumpy x sunshine in a way the other ships aren’t to me- but we’ve only ever seen these two characters interact with each other when there’s (again) A WEIRD AGE GAP

they are bros in the least homosexual way possible

the cherry on top of this situation is: isn’t aang the reincarnation of his great grandpa? isn’t that giving slight, uh, inc*st vibes??? imagine if people shipped korra and jinora isn’t that just WEIRD???

Zuki - Zuko/Suki

8/10

is this my most controversial take ???

i am a sucker for bodyguard x royal family dynamics guys

and the fact that this is girlboss x malewife is even BETTER

suki seems the most competent at handling his pissy ass in a way the other people on this list aren’t

like she’s real. she’s not sugarcoating his situation, BUT SHES COMPASSIONATE !!

i don’t like throuples typically but suzukki is even eliter than this, which removes the whole ‘going against the bro code’ element that arises from them being together

also i feel like if you haven’t read the comics this doesnt make sense At All so please do

-2 points for the lack of tangible reason to ship them lol

Zutara - Zuko/Katara

7.5/10

okay this one makes the most logistical sense to me within canon (solely examined as a zuko ship not overall)

it really seems as if they were gonna make this canon and swerved circa book 2

LIKE CMONNNN OG ENEMIES TO LOVERS WHERE THE GUY ACTUALLY HAS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND ISN’T JUST EVIL? FIRE X WATER? ITS INTRIGUING

something about this makes me uncomfortable though. (despite the age gap which again a little weird)

something about katara potentially becoming the fire lady is so… icky. she’s a waterbender. the fire nation tried to systematically erase her kind. her mother is killed by the fire nation because they think she’s a waterbender. and katara…. what, becomes part of the royal family? it just seems wrong, and like something she wouldn’t be into

also i feel like their arguments would be a little too NUCLEAR. there’s like, a 50% chance of divorce

she deserves a better ending than that is all i’m saying

to paraphrase the hunger games: katara has plenty of fire herself. SHE NEEDS THAT DANDELION IN THE SPRING MAN

(i’m a kataang truther)

Zukka - Zuko/Sokka

9/10

my zuko related otp!!!

bros to lovers guys, where zuko falls first but sokka falls HARDER !!!

ik this will never be canon and im happy with that. i know there’s not even a whisper of romance between them in the show, but i just think it’s c u t e .

sokka (like suki) is very likely to call zuko out on his shit, but less likely to lose his own shit (like katara)

this in my heart of hearts is 10/10 however is still problematic in a similar way to zutara

his mother is killed by the fire nation and he (presumably) becomes consort ?

however though, i would still say it’s not as ruhroh as zutara bc firstly, sokka isn’t a waterbender, and secondly, ‘consort’ is a lot more open to interpretation than i think fire lady is. in my opinion a consort ≠ a fire lady, just like irl a consort ≠ a queen. it kinda means he can still be ambassador to the southern water tribe/a leader of his own people, while just so happening to be married to the fire lord.

overall i can’t help but stan a friends to lover ship cmOn now

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #zukka #maiko #jetko #jinko #zukaang #zuki #zuko #aang #katara #suki #sokka #shipping discourse #shitpost #kataang

[str4wbaeby]

𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮 pt.1

ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ ˣ ᵇᵒᵒᵏʷᵒʳᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

⤷ note : pt.2 | pt.3

his presence lingered in every corner of the bookstore, name spoken in reverent tones by both staff and patrons alike. and who he might be? the literary virtuoso, Ren Takahashi, who recently emerged as a new generation fiction writer, standing as a towering figure in the realm of literature. despite being a new name in the writing community, he was quick to rise to fame with the release of his latest masterpiece, which depicted the story of a yearning painter desperately in search of his muse; the story mainly revolving around the theme of lovesickness.

being an avid book lover, it was not unusual for you to keep up with the latest updates in the community, be it newly released books or the newly emerging writers. for you, Ren was not an unfamiliar name but you never really felt truly drawn to any of his writings, which often tended to revolve around a similar theme of infatuation and obsessive love.

as you made your way through the aisles, you couldn't help but notice the prominent display of his new novel on the central shelf, the vibrant red cover drawing you in. opening the glass panel, you carefully took the book out. as you started to read, your expression quickly shifted with eyebrows furrowing into concentration as your lips curled into a smile of intrigue. turning the pages with a gentle flutter, you seemed to absorb each word presented before you. completely enamoured by the book, you failed to notice the presence of an unknown figure, leaning against the opposite bookshelf, eyes longingly staring at your small figure

"so, do you like the book?", the figure softly spoke out, careful not to startle you while clearing his throat in the process.

needless to say, you were a bit startled at first but the gentleness of his voice oddly managed to calm you down almost instantly. you were never really much of a talker, thanks to your introverted nature and not wanting to make this interaction any awkward, you just found it easier to nod your head in response. your eyes were still fixated on the pages, only to look up at the figure once you were satisfied with thorough scanning of the book. infront of you stood the most gorgeous men you have ever laid your eyes upon in your 23 years of living. luscious long hair tressed a shadowy cascade against his pale porcelain skin, hazel eyes twinkling under the bright store lighting as his 6'2 figure stood towering over you, leaning against the wooden shelf in a relaxed stance.

a shade of pink subconsciously coated your cheeks, as you struggled to maintain eye contact with the handsome stranger.

"do you come here often ?", his velvety voice echoed in your ears, slowly luring you in like a siren's song. at the sudden loss of words, all you could do was nod at his question in agreement.

noticing your flustered state, he chuckled softly, silently taking in your adorable expression and soft features.

"say, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me at the nearby cafe? I've heard their pastries are quite popular here"

the proposal was unexpected. especially coming from someone like him; someone as beautiful as him. you were average to say the least, easily passing as just another face in the crowd. why would he want someone like you?

quickly snapping out of your trance, you politely denied his offer with a firm "no". but why? didn't you like him too? the dejected look in his eyes reminded you of a lost puppy. concealing the pain with a fake smile, he handed you his number in a piece of paper, telling you to call him if you ever wanted to talk or had a change of heart regarding your little coffee date. or he could just show up at the bookstore to meet you again? you wouldn't suspect anything, right? it'll just be another coincidence, after all!

with a seemingly disinterested look, you took the paper out of his hand, only to catch a quick glimpse of something that caught your eyes.

"(555) 867-xxxx

- Ren Takahashi "

#yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #male oc #yandere male x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere prompt #yandere insert #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere male x you #x gender neutral reader #x reader #x reader insert #gn reader #mochiii.writes

[herlondonboy]

love at first sight, clarisse la rue

summary: from the moment she first saw you, she became knew you were hers and vice versa. based on this req.

warnings: y/n playing hard to get, ooc clarisse, clarisse pining like a loser (it’s me, i’m the loser), fake dating an apollo kid, clarisse tries to kill him.

wc: 2.1k

your first camp experience unfolded at the age of fifteen. as you walked the unfamiliar terrain of camp half-blood, luke, a seasoned demigod, took on the role of your guide. the lush greenery and the scent of pine surrounded you as you explored the various cabins. unbeknownst to you, clarisse la rue, observed from a distance.

clarisse found herself captivated by your ethereal beauty. the moment you entered camp, it was as if a spotlight had illuminated you, catching the attention of both demigods and nymphs alike. clarisse, though intrigued, remained silent, watching as you interacted with your newfound friends.

in the training grounds, your grace and charm didn't escape clarisse's notice. clarisse, with her keen instincts, sensed a different aura around you– an aura she associated with the children of aphrodite. the way you effortlessly enchanted those around you left clarisse both irritated and fascinated.

despite the silent admiration, clarisse struggled to approach you. the clash of your godly parentage– ares and aphrodite– seemed like an insurmountable barrier. clarisse, usually assertive and bold, found herself at a loss for words in your presence.

throughout camp activities, your popularity grew, and clarisse's internal conflict intensified. the daughter of ares, accustomed to asserting dominance, felt a strange vulnerability when it came to you. the unspoken tension lingered between you, creating an unexplored connection.

as the days passed, your impact on camp life became undeniable. clarisse, torn between her warrior instincts and newfound feelings, remained on the sidelines. you, oblivious to clarisse's internal struggle, continued to shine in your own unique way.

the story of your first camp experience unfolded like a tapestry, woven with threads of divine complexity. clarisse la rue, found herself entangled in emotions she never anticipated, all because of a chance encounter with a child of aphrodite, possibly, who, unknowingly, had entranced her from the very beginning.

despite the magnetic pull between you, clarisse and you continued to dance around each other, your connection remaining unspoken. clarisse, burdened by her own uncertainties, perceived a subtle distance in your demeanour, interpreting it as a sign of disinterest.

as the days passed, clarisse found herself yearning for the courage to bridge the gap. she wished she had spoken to you, for the silence between you grew like an insurmountable wall. in moments of solitude, clarisse questioned whether her own hesitations had painted a false narrative, leaving her with the impression that you harboured indifference.

while you navigated camp life with grace, the daughter of ares grappled with her internal conflicts. clarisse's heart longed to unravel the mystery of your feelings, wishing she had seized the chance to discover the truth instead of succumbing to her own insecurities.

as the final days of your first camp experience unfolded, clarisse's regret deepened. the unspoken connection, once poised on the precipice of possibility, now seemed like a fleeting mirage. clarisse yearned to rewrite the script, to alter the narrative that lingered between you, regretting the silent dance you had shared.

one bright morning at camp half-blood, you found yourself at the centre of an unusual spectacle. as you sat with luke at the communal table, enjoying a breakfast, your senses caught the unwavering gaze of a mysterious girl across the training grounds.

curiosity tugging at you, you turned to luke, “hey, who’s the girl over there? the one staring at me?”

luke, his expression shifting into a cautious tone, replied, “that’s clarisse la rue, daughter of ares. a formidable warrior, but she’s known for her… intensity. just be careful around her, y/n.”

you rose your eyebrow.

“she’s a bully.”

“ah,” intrigued rather than deterred, you couldn’t resist the allure of the enigmatic clarisse. a mischievous spark danced in your eyes as you waved at clarisse, who, caught off guard, looked like a deer caught in headlights. blushing, clarisse nervously shifted her gaze downward, focusing on her siblings training nearby.

-

two years had passed since that encounter at camp, and the connection between you and clarisse lingered like an unresolved melody. you, despite the passage of time, remained unclaimed by your godly parent, a fact that stirred whispers of speculation and anticipation within the camp.

clarisse, determined to reignite the flame of connection that had flickered in that fleeting moment, had spent the intervening years trying to catch your attention. the daughter of ares, usually fearless in the face of battles, found herself navigating unfamiliar terrain when it came to matters of the heart.

one afternoon, you found yourself amidst the lively atmosphere of the archery range, surrounded by the apollo kids. laughter filled the air as they playfully flirted, arrows hitting their targets with precision. clarisse, observing from a distance, couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she watched your infectious laughter and easy connection with the apollo demigods.

unable to contain the simmering emotions, clarisse decided to take matters into her own hands. she stormed onto the archery range, her presence demanding attention. "y/n!" she called, her voice cutting through the jovial atmosphere.

you turned, eyebrows raised in surprise as you saw clarisse approaching. "hey, clarisse. what's up?"

"enough with this archery nonsense," clarisse declared, her eyes flashing with determination. "let's spar. now."

the apollo kids exchanged knowing glances, sensing the tension in the air. you, always up for a challenge, agreed, and they moved to the sparring area. the clash of swords echoed as the two of you engaged in a fierce battle, each determined to assert dominance.

after a round of intense sparring, you found yourself on the losing end. however, instead of conceding defeat gracefully, a mischievous glint entered your eyes. "you know, clarisse, maybe you're just upset that you're not the one making me laugh like that," you teased, a sly grin playing on your lips.

clarisse's jaw tightened, her jealousy fuelling the fire of determination. "quit the games, y/n. let's finish this."

as the sparring resumed, you strategically used every opportunity to distract clarisse. mentioning shared memories and playful banter, you exploited the opening, knocking clarisse's sword out of her hand. you stood victorious, but instead of revelling in your win, you chose to add a final twist.

leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to clarisse's cheek, catching her off guard. "thanks for the spar," you whispered with a smirk before skipping off, leaving clarisse stunned in the aftermath.

the archery range fell silent, the demigods exchanging bewildered glances. clarisse, still processing the unexpected turn of events, touched her cheek, her heart racing with a mix of confusion and something else– a spark reignited from the past. the mysterious connection between you and clarisse continued to weave its complex narrative, leaving the camp in anticipation of the next chapter in your entangled tale.

the next day dawned with an unspoken tension hanging in the air at camp half-blood. clarisse had discovered that you were dating one of the apollo kids, a revelation that sparked a simmering irritation within the daughter of ares. as preparations for the upcoming capture the flag game began, clarisse found herself fixated on the perceived betrayal.

the familiar call for capture the flag echoed through the camp, and demigods assembled with an air of anticipation. however, this time, clarisse approached the game with a different strategy in mind. instead of camping out in the woods, she decided to actively seek out the apollo kid, her rival in both love and war.

venturing into the forest, clarisse wielded her electric spear with an unwavering determination. she followed the trail of the apollo kid, her steps fuelled by a mix of anger and frustration. as she approached, the sound of clashing metal rang through the trees, revealing the intensity of the confrontation.

clarisse burst into the clearing, catching the apollo kid off guard. the clash of their weapons echoed, a symbolic battle fuelled by unspoken emotions. the apollo kid defended himself, but clarisse's attacks were fuelled by a burning rage.

just as clarisse prepared to strike a decisive blow, you stumbled upon the scene. shock and horror painted your face as you realised the perilous situation. without hesitation, you shouted, "clarisse, stop!"

the daughter of ares froze, the electric spear poised mid-air. you rushed forward, your voice laced with urgency. "what are you doing? he's defenceless!"

clarisse's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and defiance, but she didn’t say anything.

you cursed clarisse, your anger boiling over. "this isn't the way to handle things!" you hurriedly helped your boyfriend, injured from the skirmish, and together you made your way to the medical cabin where the apollo kid's siblings could tend to his wounds.

clarisse's siblings, witnessing the scene, approached her with concern. "what's going on, clarisse? why did you attack him?"

clarisse scoffed and pushed them away, a wall of defensiveness erected around her. "mind your own business. he had it coming."

as the medical cabin door closed behind you and the injured apollo kid, the aftermath of the confrontation hung in the air. clarisse, wrestling with her own emotions, stood alone, surrounded by the echoes of a conflict born from love, jealousy, and the complex web of relationships that defined life at camp half-blood. the unspoken chapter of your and clarisse's intertwined destinies continued to unfold, leaving the camp in anticipation of the resolution that awaited you.

“that wasn’t supposed to happen,” you heard, making you turn to see him smiling.

“i’m sorry,” you said. “are you okay?”

“peachy.”

a week had passed since the encounter during capture the flag, and you had been avoiding clarisse like the plague. the tension between you hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. sensing the avoidance, clarisse, never one to back down, decided it was time to confront the situation head-on.

cornering you in a secluded spot, clarisse crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "what's your deal, y/n? you've been avoiding me all week. we need to talk."

you scoffed, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. "oh, now you want to talk? after you tried to kill my boyfriend?"

clarisse's expression shifted from frustration to a mix of guilt and longing. "y/n, it wasn't like that. i just—"

"save it," you interrupted, your tone cutting through the air. "what did you expect? some grand confession of feelings after you tried to take him down? you've had a stupid little crush for years, and now you decide to act upon it?"

clarisse, surprisingly, found you more attractive than ever in this moment. stepping forward, she closed the distance between you, a determined look in her eyes. "you think it's just a crush, y/n? you're wrong."

you, unfazed, pushed clarisse away. "save the drama. i don't care about your feelings. i have a boyfriend, and you-"

clarisse, undeterred, seized the moment and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. you hesitated for a moment before succumbing to the intensity of the moment. when clarisse finally pulled back, she looked you in the eyes and declared, "you're mine. i don't care about your boyfriend. you're mine, y/n. you always have been and always will be, okay?"

you, surprisingly, didn't argue. instead, you leaned in for another kiss, mumbling against clarisse's lips, "it was an act. to get you to say it."

clarisse rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "you're impossible."

your lips met again, the storm of emotions swirling around you dissipating as the two of you surrendered to the undeniable pull between you. in that moment, beneath the canopy of camp half-blood, you and clarisse found a fragile balance, your destinies intertwining in a way that defied logic and expectation. the echoes of unspoken desires and the complex dance of love continued to shape the narrative of your entangled hearts.

after the prolonged kiss, clarisse slowly pulled back, looking up with a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “i knew it,” she declared with a teasing glint in her eyes, revelling in the unexpected turn of events. you, still caught in the haze of the moment, furrowed your brows in confusion.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, your gaze locked with clarisse’s.

clarisse’s smirk widened, and she simply pointed upward. you followed her gesture, looking up at the sky, only to see a shimmering glow above you. you squinted, trying to make sense of what was happening.

aphrodite’s symbol materialised above your head, a clear indication that you had been claimed by the goddess of love. realisation dawned upon clarisse, and she burst into laughter. “well, well, looks like cupid’s arrows finally hit their mark.”

you rolled your eyes, a mix of annoyance and amusement in your expression. “the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself, huh?” you quipped.

clarisse rolled her eyes at the lyric and pulled you along to chiron’s office.

it was love at first sight. at least on clarisse’s half.

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #elijah writes #please reblog

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C10hCCZRjVR/?igsh=NjljbTg3OXp6NnJj

Seeing Simon holding his 3month old baby girl like this around the house and doing the koala one when he's burping the baby

READ IT HERE

(Pics included in case you don't want to watch the short insta video)

No, no, don't do this to me. This is too fucking cute I can't stand it!

Anytime I think of Simon with a little baby of his own I immediately melt and want to give that man all the babies he wants, especially a little girl. Girl Dad Simon is at the top of my list of favorite things to think and write about with him. I just want this man to enjoy some softness.

I think at about the three month mark he is going to be a lot more comfortable with the baby and honestly, he finds that he is a natural at taking care of her. When she first came home, I can see him being really nervous and apprehensive to be around her, not that he doesn't absolutely adore her, but he is afraid he's going to somehow hurt her and he never wants that.

But after a bit of time he becomes more comfortable and is able to be very hands on in her care. And he finds that he really, really likes to be the one to hold her, burp her, ect. She is his little princess after all and his love for her just grows the more he interacts with her. I mean, she is the best of you both put together, why wouldn't he cherish her?

Oh my heart is melting.

But wait... can you imagine the baby like tracing her little fingers over his tattoos as he koala holds her? I think she would love to look at them, all intrigued about how they are just there, and Simon just lets her stare and touch as long as she likes. He says he's doing it because it's keeping her quiet, but you both know it's just so he can hold her longer.

I'm thinking this might need to be a fic involving something where some of the guys from the 141 see him being so natural just handling the baby like he was made to do it. Like big ol stoic Simon being gentle with this tiny little being, a side of him they didn't know possible.

Oh yeah this has to be a thing, my heart needs it!

Keep a look out for the massive amounts of fluff this is going to entail cause it's gonna make your teeth hurt with how sweet it is.

#simon riley family man #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #simon #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost call of duty