#but you know what's funny? it's just something I'm gonna mention in a fic where Booker is anything but the focus ahahah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojorgeous · 3 months

Text

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!”

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said.

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind.

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers.

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.”

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path.

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back.

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket.

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.”

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?”

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t.

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s.

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?”

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you.

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying.

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong.

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches.

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment.

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you.

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike.

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now.

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him.

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside.

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it.

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet.

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face.

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease.

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo.

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night.

“Yeah. Long day at work.”

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?”

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you.

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there.

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance.

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.”

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?”

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.”

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life.

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight.

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around.

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder.

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines.

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs.

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.”

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool.

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone.

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride.

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention.

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish?

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman.

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself.

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive.

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?”

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.”

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours.

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps.

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says.

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet.

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.”

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?”

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?”

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like.

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then…

“So, what’s your technique”

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual.

“Bet I could find out.”

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.”

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…”

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.”

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks.

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job…

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.”

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?”

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth.

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing.

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?”

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal.

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.”

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to.

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit.

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now.

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone.

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid.

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines.

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle.

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans.

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever.

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles.

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to.

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs.

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now.

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please…

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land.

Fuck.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework.

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly.

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight.

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it.

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better.

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?”

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over.

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.”

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls.

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.”

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see.

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs.

Your lips part. “You knew?”

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?”

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him.

But you have one thing on him.

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.”

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.”

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.”

You freeze. He notices.

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?”

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation.

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.”

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo.

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?”

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced.

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display.

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin.

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes.

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?”

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…”

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides.

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone.

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again.

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.”

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.”

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased.

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.”

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.”

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue.

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right.

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you.

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault.

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes.

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away.

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?”

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone.

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick.

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole.

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out.

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.”

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages.

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.”

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut.

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.”

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.”

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you.

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth.

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him.

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.”

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same.

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant.

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs.

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind.

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be.

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you.

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death.

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest.

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?”

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.”

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?”

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe.

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.”

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?”

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been.

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free.

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position.

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind.

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you.

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.”

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?”

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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mayearies · 9 months

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✰ DRAMA KING

‘not to be dramatic or anything, but i’d die for you.’ -miles g. genre: fluff

warnings: just the mention of the reader having a brother a/n: alright no cause i contemplated this name for a while 😭 (@moonpiies would know also ty for her for this idea mwah mwah) and ill probably end up changing it later if i think of a better one also this is a pretty lazy fic

e42 miles had lost one of his airpods while over your house, around 6 months ago. he was devastated and remained pretty sad for the next few hours. hearing him whine about it was pretty funny though. but now, he was at your house again for a little study date to brush up on some subjects together. but there wasn't much studying going on cause, y'know.

—"i just remembered you wanted me to come over to study." "okay, but this is more fun? stickers now, study later."

you were both dolling each other up by putting random stickers on each others face and arms. for what reason? i don't know the idea just kind of came out of the blue. but you both were enjoying it. "so, how's the one airpod life treatin' ya?"

"shut up." "i mean genuinely." "so do i."

you knew he wasn't being serious. you two play a lot to know the difference between serious and playful. but that playful tone switched to a rather serious one when you both realized you were out of stickers. "there should be more in my brother's room. he's started liking hello kitty, strangely."

miles pointed to your pillows and sheets which were littered with hello kitty. "is it 'cause of you and all this?"

"i mean it might be. you never know for sure."

♡ rummaging through your brothers room, you stumbled upon more stickers, mission accomplished. maybe you were influencing him into your interests a little. 'maybe'? tell that to the 5 pages of stickers in his drawer.

♡ the thing is, you coincidently ran out of drinks. on the way to the kitchen you went, grabbing two cups and filling them to the brim with soda. on your way out, you stepped on something and heard a light pain in your foot. well, miles was gonna be happy for sure.

"i have a surprise." "oh no, i'm so interested." "don't play with me, you'll like it this time."

you pulled the missing airpod out your pocket and miles' face lit up with a mix of surprise and joy. "like you're sure-"

"yes, i'm sure. i'm the only one with airpods in this house and i keep track of them, unlike someone i know."

miles brought his lips to the back of your hand and kissed it all the way up to where you elbow was. then he hugged you. he doesn't do this unless he wants something. it was cunning, but sweet in a way or two. "would it be an exaggeration to say i'd die for you?"

"yes, actually." "what if i said i'd kill someone for you?" "thats not that much of an exaggeration. you've probably tried to do it once." "eh, maybe. possibly, even."

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #miles morales earth 42

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sixosix · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm on a sae brainrot lately it's gonna consume me and your fics are soo good😫 can I req a sae with reader in love with him despite being friends with rin, I just love the idea of rin being annoyed with the two of them giving each other heart eyes when reader comes over to their house, thank you sooo much!

think of this as an au where the itoshi brothers aren’t as insane and strained ur welcome ALSO ANON HELPP this idea is so funny

rin doesn’t consider himself as someone who has homicidal urges. on a good day, at least.

but you are making it harder and harder not to just strangle you and yell out strings of profanity whenever you sigh dreamily over his brother.

his big brother, of all people. rin knows that he and sae are pretty popular, but for his best friend to be head over heels for his brother when you should be immune to the itoshi bloodline is a bit absurd.

“it’s the best friend’s brother thing,” bachira said. rin has no idea what that means, but apparently, it’s when people go crazy over the best friend’s brother. rin hopes that none of sae’s friends are giving him the same googly eyes you do whenever sae passes by—that would be horrifying.

“he’s so handsome,” you explained to him when he asked why you are so obsessed with his brother in blood. “so—! just soo fucking—” and then rin asked you to not finish that sentence because he might have to damage his eardrums by hand if you continue.

that’s not even the worst part, no.

a normal person (like rin) would think that, okay, pining isn’t that bad. crushes are normal. my friend’s weird obsession with wanting to kiss my brother stupid is normal, maybe. but no. it’s not that easy. rin cannot just coax you to move on or force to imply anything in case sae hunts him down.

because his big brother, itoshi sae, is in love with you.

rin doesn’t know when— how it started. he just found out when you had to come up to rin to ask for something and left like a frightened deer, and sae, dead-inside, doesn’t-give-a-fuck-about-you sae, kept staring at you until you were out of sight. there was a smile on his face—a fond one, if that makes it any better.

(it does not. rin didn’t even know what to say at this point. his hands are itching.)

“that’s just a little brother thing,” shidou remarked once when rin lamented about his worrying urge to throttle you and sae simultaneously. rin understands that one, at least.

you have to come over today.

it’s not a big deal since you’ve come to his room to hang out before. it’s not always voluntary on rin’s part; you just appear out of nowhere, carrying pillows and about three blankets, materializing out of nowhere and onto his doorstep.

the difference is that his brother is back in japan, and you’re coming over today.

why is this a problem?

well, for starters: rin is not fond of seeing you make a fool of yourself and cry about it to him later on. he sleeps through it, usually, but you smack his head when you meet again, and he is afraid he might get brain damage soon.

second, rin only stays in his room, so it is where you follow. if the time comes you leave, sae will interrogate the hell out of him and give the coldest glares out of sheer jealousy. rin cannot be bothered to explain that no, he doesn’t like you that way, and sae is free to take you.

he doesn’t want to expose you like that, though. he is not that much of an asshole. as horrible and hilarious it is to watch you trip over yourself to see him, rin knows you genuinely like sae.

rin sees it in the way you smile helplessly whenever anyone mentions him, and rin can tell that it’s serious. you’re still his friend; he still cares about how this will work out for you.

“rin, i’m telling you,” you say, and in your excitement—or hysteria, really—you fail to notice that your voice is terribly loud. “shidou is out to get me. i have nightmares about him hunting me down because i beat him four times. he has a bat with nails on it.”

“let him win, then,” rin deadpans.

although it is his house, he’s the one trailing after you. mostly to make sure you don’t eat all the ice cream. again.

“i can’t lose to shidou, rin. that’s a stain on my resume.”

“then don’t dream about shidou with a bat with nails on it.”

“you’re the life of the party, itoshi.”

you yelp as you turn into a sharp corner on the way to his room. rin blinks at the sound and visibly deflates when he realizes who you’ve crashed into. he holds back a groan, knowing precisely what’s coming next.

cue: romantic guitar, doves flying, bells ringing.

“y/n,” sae says, holding you up by the shoulders.

“...sae,” you reply, belatedly. and then proceed to gape at him as if you forgot that he is rin’s brother and they live together for that reason.

“nii-chan,” rin says, too, because he really is not in the mood to witness this.

sae blinks up at rin. “where are you two going?”

rin hesitates. “my room.” you’re still steaming because sae is still holding you.

sae narrows his eyes.

“y-you can join us!” you blabber, refusing to meet sae’s eyes—which is horrible, really, because if you just took a single glance at sae, you’d see how his eyes softened impossibly.

“don’t say that.” rin scowls. he already has it rough having one lovesick freak in his room; he is not fit to handle two simultaneously, for each other, too.

“i’ll join,” sae decides instantly, staring right at you. rin wants to throw his hands in the air. “what did you say about shidou?”

thx for reading i had too much fun w this LMFAOOO

#606:BLLK #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae fluff

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gotham--fc · 6 months

Text

Pumpkin Carving Gone Wrong - An Emily Sonnett Imagine

Hello I'm back! The first of 2 (two!!) Halloween fics. I know most of you voted jflem for this but the idea I had just fit Sonnett I really had no choice

Summary: Basically what the title says. Sonnett and R try to carve pumpkins and it all goes awry

TW: Blood mention

Y/N loves Halloween. It’s arguably her most favourite holiday of the year, the costumes, the candy, the whole vibe, she loves it. It’s great for her that her girlfriend, one Emily Sonnett, loves Halloween too. Halloween provides such a great atmosphere for pranking and scaring their friends, so naturally, Sonnett gets really into Halloween.

“You still wanna carve pumpkins this weekend babe?” Y/N asks.

“Of course I do, I wanna carve something funny on mine.”

“Like what?” Y/N asks. She walks over to where Sonnett is frying up a tortilla.

“It’s a surprise,” Sonnett says.

No matter how much Y/N asks, Sonnett won’t tell. As curious as she is, she knows her girlfriend is twice as stubborn and won’t say a word until she wants to. So Y/N knows she has to wait until this weekend to know what Sonnett is planning on carving onto her pumpkin.

Finally, when the weekend arrives, Y/N is doubly excited. Not only does she get to carve a pumpkin, which she loves, she also gets to finally find out what her girlfriend is planning. They go to the store and pick out two pumpkins, one each. Y/N’s is fairly normally pumpkin shaped, but Sonnett picked the most disformed, oddly shaped one they had. Typical.

They get home and start carving. Y/N splits her focus between her own pumpkin and trying to decipher what Sonnett is carving. Then Sonnett looks up and notices Y/N’s interest.

“Hey! Focus on your own pumpkin,” Sonnett says, “Let me work in peace.”

“I just wanna know what you’re carving!”

“You’ll find out when I’m done!”

“Please,” Y/N whines, “Just tell me!”

“No!”

Y/N leans over and tries to look at the front of Sonnett’s pumpkin. Sonnett laughs and pushes Y/N away. They struggle for a few moments before a sharp pain makes Y/N stop. She looks down and notices her own knife, which she set down before trying to look at Sonnett’s pumpkin was closer than she remembered, and that she accidentally dropped her hand on top of it. She sees a few inches long slice down her thumb and blood beginning to drip from the cut.

“Oh shit.”

“What? Did you mess up your pumpkin?” Sonnett asks. She looks over when Y/N doesn’t respond and her face pales when she sees the cut.

“Oh fuck.”

Sonnett scrambles to her feet and returns with a large amount of paper towel which she presses to Y/N’s hand. It’s entirely too much for how large the cut actually is, but Y/N doesn’t have time to say anything about it until Sonnett starts panic rambling.

“What do we do? Does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Do we need to go to the hospital? We should go to the hospital. We definitely should because it probably needs stitches and you could bleed out and oh god what if you bleed out–”

“Emily Sonnett!” Y/N says loudly. Sonnett’s head snaps to Y/N. “Take a deep breath. I’m not bleeding out.” Y/N looks down at the paper towel which is slowly turning red. “I probably need stitches, but I am not bleeding out. Calm down.”

“Okay. Okay. So what do we… What do we do?”

One long hospital trip and five stitches later, they’re on their way back home. Sonnett stayed with Y/N the whole time they waited for a doctor and the whole time they put the stitches in, even if she gagged a little when they were putting them in. They come back and see the pumpkins still waiting on the kitchen floor.

“Will you tell me now what you were carving?” Y/N asks.

“I suppose since you were willing to cut your own thumb off to know,” Sonnett says, “I was gonna do a ghost and then say it was Rose because she’s so pale.”

Y/N laughs, she can’t help it.

“Honestly, stitches and all, it was worth it to make you tell me before you were finished.”

#emily sonnett #emily sonnett x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #emily sonnett imagines #uswnt #woso imagine

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yourstingrey · 2 months

Text

Foolish One

A/N:Hiii i already tried to post this once and run away for the weekend so I didn't have to see any notes but I forgot tags so reposting lol but thank you for the support on my last fic as well I tried to take my time with this one and even though I'm still not the biggest fan of it I thought I should still post it so I can improve next time!!!

Wc:3081

Warnings: angst, situationship, lowkey toxic relationship, hinting at hooking up, i gave the cabins a bathroom cus im not making you walk outside for that, grammar??

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans

And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again.

Me and Luke have had a bit of a flirtationship for a while. A LONG while. Sometimes I think for too long but I've always had a crush on Luke. I mean the greatest swordsman at camp, always so helpful to new campers, and he's so beautiful. So when he finally noticed me months ago I gushed to my siblings about it, in the beginning, it was perfect. He would invite me on perfect dates, little picnics by the lake, walks in the forest together ranting about things at camp that bugged us, and even a couple of ‘hangouts’ in the Hermes cabin when everyone was off.

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

But nowadays he's always so busy I mean I can't blame him he's THE role model of camp. Plus he never forgets to slip a letter to my siblings saying he was sorry for not seeing me but I know where he is. He's never really busy.

And I will block out these voices of reason in my head.

And the voices say, "You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson"

Moths fill my stomach as I walk to the Hermes cabin eating holes inside me and making my nerves practically leak out of me as I approach the door. Finally reaching the pale yellow door and sucked in my breath before knocking. I rock back and forth on my heels staring at the stained glass above the door before refocusing my attention on the door opening. To my dismay, it wasn't Luke who I planned on asking to hang out with today but instead, Chris opened the door.

As he opened the door he made an almost pitiful look “Are you looking for Luke..?” I cleared my throat awkwardly before speaking “Oh um yeah… do you know where he would be by any chance!”. The look on his face practically sunk in more but then I think he realized how he was staring at me “I think he is out training but he might be busy so maybe you shouldn't see him” he said rushed while rubbing the back of his neck like it was sore “Thanks Chris but I'm sure he won't mind i'll be super quick!”

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Leaves crunch as I walk the arena mumbling under my breath how to ask to have a break with him. Even a quick walk in the woods would work. I'm desperate for Luke now even if he wants to say he doesn't want to see me anymore I'd take it. Arena in sight my pace quickens to the entrance ready to slip in but pause as I hear the unmistakable charming laugh of Lukes but also unfamiliar hushed giggles.

As I stand outside the clear opening I purse my lips before deciding that I would peak in just in I mean it's not like I mean to eavesdrop but I've never seen Luke with any girls so publicly he insists he likes things like that to be private saying “it's more special to keep it to ourselves”. The moment I looked inside the arena my heart dropped to my stomach it was Luke and Drew. Drew was a daughter of Aphrodite and you could tell she was tall and had long dark hair she was beautiful. Clearly, something Luke said must have said the funniest thing on the planet as they couldn't stop laughing.

In some universe where I was braver, I would march up to them and ask what was so funny but instead, I cowered, peaking in still. But in the worst-case scenario, Luke looked over at the entrance. It wasn't even some corny I slipped and he saw he just looked over. It was clear he saw me, he whispered something over to Drew and now she was looking too. It felt like I was in quicksand I couldn't move and I was sinking deeper and deeper now that she was watching and he was heading over.

As he jogs over I hear him in an out of breath tone spit out “Hey what are you doing here?” I go back to rocking on my heels “Oh uhhh I just came to see you because we just haven't hung out in a while. I mean if you're busy it's okay just uh y'know..” I mumble out the last bit embarrassed of my stammering. Rubbing the back of his neck looking behind him before turning back at me sharply inhaling through his teeth and saying “Uh… sure yeah how about you meet me later at the spot? Just go at night and I'll meet you there.” I try not to look visibly awkward by the curt sound of his voice but I won't prod to see if that's true “Okay I'll meet you there later!”

He looked at me before giving me a quick bye and spinning on his heel back to Drew. But honestly, I was riding a tiny high right now. I was excited to see him. A coy smile plays on my lips as I go back to my cabin.

You know how to keep me waitin'

I know how to act like I'm fine

Don't know what to call this situation

But I know I can't call you mine

Picking out an outfit isn't hard when most of your clothes consist of orange camp shirts or the few cute clothes you took from home. I landed on shorts and a sweater before finally tiptoeing out of my cabin. The cold chill of the evening air was overwhelmed by the almost caffeine jitter bounce running through my body as I walked a secret path Luke and I practically created with how much our shoes scuffed up the ground leading to our spot.

Reaching the end of the path expecting a familiar head of curls to be sitting maybe watching the stars waiting instead I stare out into the empty small clearing. My eyes sting and my lip wobbles. I quietly continue to shuffle over until I sit down trying to shake it off to him running a bit late. We didn't say exactly what time so honestly I felt silly getting upset. Relaxed now I bring my knees up to my chest and prop my chin up on them holding my legs with my arms. Sitting in our spot felt nostalgic for the earlier summer, stumbling off into the woods looking to escape prying eyes and stumbling on this exact spot…

And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder

It starts thinkin' you'll come around

Swift feet run through the forest as I feel my arm being tugged along to keep up, “Luke! Slow down trust me no one is gonna find us at this rate!” my voice practically cuts out like glitches through my laughter as Luke finally slows down his pace to turn back to me “Yknow you're no fun in trying to make it private for us” tilting his head to the side and giving me a joking pout. I grab his hand and swing it back and forth “Shut up if that's true why do you spend so much of your precious time with me then hmmm?” He drops my hand and starts to walk backward further into the woods “You know what... You're on to something I've gotta get away from you! I think you must have put a spell on me, are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite after all?”

I follow after him and jokingly shove him to the side to walk in front of him “ugh you're such a jerk someti-” My feet lifted from the ground cutting my sentence off, feeling his strong arms wrap around my torso and looking down at his laughing face before he starts to spin us in a circle a quick few times before stop and setting me back down. Looking up at Luke to see him gazing at the view in front of us, an almost perfect clearing giving you a view of the calm water below and the blue sky above a log laid down in front of it grabbing hold of luke's hand again and tugging it to get him to sit down against the log with me. Sitting I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder, knees bumping as we sat our interlocked hands sat in my lap and I just stared down at them in this light with him and me sitting here they looked almost like they were carved out of marble made only fit with each other perfectly. I changed my gaze to peer up through my lashes at Luke now to see he was already looking at me. My cheeks flare up in a warm pink glow as I feel my chest humming, his face leans down, his other hand reaching up to cup the burning cheek, eyes fluttering shut lips brushing in delicate kisses while Luke grins into it…

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception, You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love. That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

I shiver maybe at the breeze passing by, maybe at the memory I couldn't tell, hugging my knees tighter and looking out before the sound of a leaf quietly crunches behind me. I didn't look back though I knew it was him no one else knew our spot was too far out. He slid right next to me on the log before speaking up in a quiet tone “I'm sorry I took so long just.. Yknow my cabin has so many campers it's hard to duck out when you're their counselor, I really didn't mean to keep you waiting..” Finishing his sentence he pulls me into him making me cuddle into his side. I sigh contently forgiving him in my head because to be wrapped up with him shining down on us like a spotlight made it feel right. “s’okay thank you for coming Luke..” “Of course..”

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands

Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

Oh, you haven't written me or called, But goodbye screamin' in the silence

We sat there together for a while and talked about what we had missed in each other's lives until the quiet chill made our hands feel frozen even with them clasped tightly together. Luke said he would walk me back to my cabin saying “If we get caught I'll just say I caught you sneaking out and I'm taking you back” Thanking the gods that we have Luke's counselor job as pass I really don't think I could handle Mr. D and Chiron put me back to cleaning the stables which I only did to take the blame for Luke last summer.

We arrive back into camp feeling Luke unclasp our hands without a word. My steps flatter for a mere second before I simply choose to ignore the action and catch up with his stride. As we walk I speak up “Um thanks for walking me back to my cabin I really appreciate it..” “It's no problem can’t let my favorite archer walk out in the cold alone!” he says in a positive but quiet voice. “So I was wondering if I could see you again yknow maybe we could just eat together or something if you don't have a lot of time..?” Our steps come to a halt in front of my cabin now he looks at me sucking a breath from his teeth before opening his mouth to speak “Ah.. I think I'm kinda busy tomorrow, Drew asked if I could show her how to get better at sword fighting so I have to show her that… I think I'll be doing it for a while. Y’know how practice makes perfect but I'll let you know when I'm free.”

My lips pursed together for a moment looking at my shoes as he talks and finally looking back at him when he finishes “Oh okay.. Well yeah just let me know! See you later!” I hear him mumble a quick ‘yep night’ before turning around and walking off, I stand there for a moment almost waiting to see if he would look back and maybe try to catch a glimpse of me going in, but he didn't.

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

And you will say you had the best of intentions

And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Creeping back to my bunk as quietly as possible trying not to disturb any of my sleeping siblings, but forgetting about one extra creaky floorboard located directly next to one of my sister's bunks, at camp practically everyone is a light sleeper after having to go on a quest. A mess of tangles and a sleeping mask shot up before my sister Rey pulled it off her eyes to see me ‘doing the walk of shame’ as she once called it. “What are you doing awake…?” her voice quiet and still full of sleepiness “Oh yknoww I just hung out with Luke for a bit..”

She sat up a little straighter and gave me the same look Chris gave me this evening. “You saw Luke..? I thought you guys were like totally over…” “Well, not completely we just fell out a bit I'm going to see him again soon he just is going to help train campers for a bit y'know!” Her brows furrow and her mouth twists with disdain “Is that camper.. Drew?” leaning against a bedpost and starting to pick at my nails “I mean yeah but like-” A loud groan cuts me off “You're kidding. I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings but.. Do you really think they're training? It just seems like what you guys used to do if you ask me..”

She tucked herself back into the covers rolling over to stop facing me leaving me with a not so subtle hint. Walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth so i could finally sleep i find myself staring at my figure in the mirror longer, my hand dropping down to stop brushing setting it down on the sink, my lip starts to wobble again and the bitter sting filled my eyes again blurring my vision as i sunk to the floor to sit on the cool tiles for a bit. Drew and Luke were doing exactly what they used to do ‘training’ is Luke's code word for fucking. I knew that already, we used to use it often. But i thought if he saw me tonight then it couldn't be that. He wouldn't do that. But Luke would, he knows that I know those code words but Luke wouldn't do that…

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Waking up felt like a chore this morning, the sun shining instead of being warm and inviting felt like it was melting me down into a pile of mush as I got up. Walking to the mess hall was worse seeing them sit together breaking the camper's sit with their cabin's rule, giggling into each other's ears like I saw them before. Walking past them to my table hoping he would spare me a glance just a small look that said ‘I'm only entertaining her for a bit and I'll be back’ but he was practically bewitched by her.

Ain't never gonna come

Ooh, you will learn the hard way now

Foolish one

Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love

They ain't never gonna come

A week passed by and he never came running back instead he ran around with her, when it finally sunk in the pitiful sorrys of my sibling and even a handful of Luke's friends came but they fell silent on my ears wallowing in my self-pity, shutting in my cabin for a bit before deciding I couldn't just shut myself in because I lost the 3rd most decent head of curls in camp. The night came crickets chirping, acting as my background music as I took my throw blanket off my bed to sneak out just to take a short walk to relax. Heading down the long path noticing fresh grass starting to grow back out of the scuffed dirt it brought a small grin back to my face which fell almost immediately at the sight of two figures in a oh so familiar spot.

And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out

Foolish one

The day is gonna come for your confessions of love

When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one

No, he just wasn't the one

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #pjo #luke castellan angst

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honey-sweet-hiraeth · 1 year

Text

The Hallway

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

A/n: Whaaaat the fuck people. I started writing this based on Lizzie's Oscars look. It was gonna be a cute little not quiet enemies to lovers fic. Right? Right??? No! I just started writing having no clue what was gonna happen and now there's human trafficking??? And mentions of R going through human trafficking?? And trauma?? And Wanda being fucking adorable. I'm so confused. I don't know how we got here. But yeah the dress Wanda wears on the mission is the one from the Oscars look. Send help. Have fun. What did I even write?

P. S. I was writing this all night what is sleep. My noggin is tired.

Warnings: Human Trafficking (Wanda and Yn are saving people), Talks about Yn going through Human trafficking, Author doesn't know what they're doing and it shows, nightmares (mentioned), Wanda is cute as fuck, Wanda is a tease. (A cute tease)

Fluff?? Hurt Comfort??? I dunno.

Not proofread.

"I don't hate you, you know." Your voice must've startled her, because Wanda turned a bit too quickly with her hand over her heart.

You were preparing to go on a mission together. The first time you'd ever gone on a mission alone with Wanda. She tended to avoid being teamed up with you if she could.

You figured she just didn't like you. It never really bothered you too much. Maybe a little.

Until you heard her fighting so hard against a mission with you, and only you. She pleaded with Steve in front of all of the other Avengers. Natasha snickered in her corner seat and you wondered what was so funny?

You were frankly a bit offended that Wanda would rather pretend to date 'anyone else', for the mission. You could be a great fake partner! The best even. Nonetheless Wanda wanted nothing more than to avoid being around you. Going so far as to offer to go with Sam or, god forbid, Vision.

You were the best undercover agent they had aside from Natasha. Who would've been coming with you if she weren't so busy.

Wanda stared at you blankly for a moment. Tilting her head.

"Good to know." She nodded, going back to adjusting her dress. It didn't sound like she believed you.

"I spoke with Nat." You continued. "I asked why she would suggest that you came with me for this. When she knew you hated my guts."

Wanda turned to you with her eyebrows raised. You stepped forward and fixed the tangled tassels around her neck as you spoke.

"She laughed at me." You smoothed the front of her hair, spraying a bit of extra hairspray in it. "She told me you thought I hated you. That you thought I hadn't forgiven you for the Ultron situation."

Wanda winced, and sighed sharply. "We don't need to talk about this."

"We- we can though." You frowned and Wanda shook her head.

"Not right now. We have a job to do." She walked past you and you caught a breath of her perfume, it was floral and spicy. You liked it.

You shook yourself free from your thoughts and followed behind her, out the door of the safe house where your clothing and accessories were set out for the two of you, and to the car waiting out front.

The ride was quiet. You stole glances at Wanda as she stared out the window, her jawline fully on display with her hair pulled into a sleek updo. Wanda was pretty, in that unassuming way most people didn't notice until she was fully dressed up.

You noticed during battle. From the way she locked her jaw and sent enemies flying, to the way she would meet your eyes with fire in hers and you just knew the adrenaline pumping through her veins was similar to yours.

You'd never actually seen her on a mission outside of something confrontational. You knew nothing of her undercover skills or her ability to blend in and go with the flow while also keeping her mind on the objective.

So you were pleasantly surprised when you entered the target's party and she easily slipped her hand in yours. You glanced at her and she smiled fondly at you, leaning closer and setting her chin on your shoulder.

She was close enough to kiss.

"We'll make our way around the room and mingle for a bit, then we can sneak off, but not before we speak to Damien." Her accent was soft and alluring. If it weren't for her actively speaking about the mission, her breath against your cheek would've made you forget you were even on one.

Maybe this was the real reason you never worked jobs with Wanda. She was very, very distracting.

You smiled, chuckling a little as two elderly men walked by, eying you with judgment. They were just jealous, you decided. You did happen to have the most beautiful woman at the event right on your arm.

"Okay darling. Whatever you say." You led her further into the group of socialites and powerful figures of the underground. "You just let me know when you're ready to run off."

Wanda held her head high as you walked through the crowd. You really did look like a powerful couple. People you didn't know in the slightest sent you nods and smiles as you passed. They regarded you with respect, even though they knew nothing about you.

After all you were mysterious guests, dressed in expensive designer clothing and walking as if you owned the place. As far as they knew you did own the place.

It took only a few minutes before Damien Gavroche, the true owner of the establishment and one of the men you needed to take down, approached you.

"My my you're a stunning couple aren't you?" He smiled impishly at you. Nausea nearly overtook you just looking at him. You were there because he was trafficking young girls. You hated people like him with all you had.

Wanda's grip tightened on your hand. She was the only Avenger who knew why people like Gavroche truly disgusted you. You had experience with them, and they genuinely made you afraid.

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and smiled brightly at the short, greasy looking man.

"Thank you," you shook his hand. "It's truly all my darling though. If I had been on my own for this I'd have no clue what to wear."

You kissed Wanda's head and she hummed, leaning into you.

"The thing is. I don't remember adding your names to the list?" It was stated as a question but you knew what he meant. 'How did you get in?'

"That's odd," you furrowed your brows. "We only had to present these invitations at the door."

That was the truth, you mused as you handed the slips of paper to him. You really hated lying. It just worked better when you didn't have to do it very much.

Damien looked at the invites for a moment then smiled, handing them back to you.

"My mistake" He apologized, slipping his arm around Wanda's waist to lead you both across the room. You felt Wanda tense beside you. His hand was nearly on her ass. You grabbed his wrist and moved it so his hand rested higher on her back.

Damien scowled at you as you did so. You sent him a warning glare back. You hoped he caught the meaning of your actions. 'Don't touch what isn't yours'

Not that you were actually possessive over Wanda. You were just playing your part, and maybe feeling a bit protective of your teammate.

Wanda leaned further into you now that your arm was draped across her shoulders. You let your thumb graze along her exposed skin. An attempt at comforting her and looking like you were truly a couple, you told yourself. Not at all because Wanda's skin was soft and you couldn't get enough of the feeling.

Before you knew it, you and Wanda were in a secluded VIP section. You recognized some of New York's most wanted lounging in the room. It made you nervous. If people like that were casually hanging out around here. What kind of party were you really at?

You shivered and looked to Wanda, her face told you she was thinking the same thing. This could mean trouble.

You tried to relax, falling into a seat with a small sigh. It worked until Wanda perched herself right on your knee, picking a flute of champagne off a nearby tray and taking a slow sip as she surveyed the room.

"I don't think I recognize you twos." A strong Brooklyn accent caught spoke up above the murmuring of the others.

"We're new in town." Wanda spoke up, her voice exuded power and confidence. It wasn't a tone she'd ever used since you'd met her.

You sat up, placing a hand on her hip and leaning your cheek against her shoulder. She draped an arm around you and ran her fingers through your hair.

Again. You almost forgot you were on a mission. Wishful thinking you guessed as you met the gaze of a woman with long white hair. Her pale blue eyes held something unsettling in them. Was is recognition?

She smirked at you and raised her glass. Did she know you?

You looked up at Wanda, she was already looking in the direction of the woman. She didn't look at you, instead displaying her jaw to you as she absently handed you her champagne and crossed the room to grab another one.

The white haired women shifted from the armchair she was sitting in and into the cushion next to you.

"What is she your keeper?" Her lips quirked up into a playful, if not a bit mischievous smirk. You laughed nervously.

"No, not really." You matched her expression, "Why, do you think I need kept?"

"No not at all. Quite the opposite." She chuckled "Beasts like you aren't meant to be tamed."

"Beasts?" You raised an eyebrow. "You find me to be beastly?"

"Only in the most interesting of ways. I can see it in your eyes." Her gaze pierced yours. "You're uncomfortable here. You'd much rather be somewhere much less," Her eyes wandered the room with a look not dissimilar to contempt, "sophisticated."

You laughed. "Something like that."

You sighed, glancing at Wanda who seemed to be struggling to escape a conversation with Damien and one of his associates.

"The social aspects of this line of work aren't really my strong suit. I'm not nearly as polite as my partner." You nodded toward her. "For example. I would've knocked our hosts head of his shoulders by now."

The woman laughed, brushing her fingers along your arm. Was she flirting with you?

You bristled, looking back at her before turning back to see Wanda stalking back toward you with a scowl.

"Uh oh" The white haired woman looked between the approaching Wanda and you. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Before you could respond slender fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you upward. Now, only inches from your face, Wanda looked much more intimidating.

"I think we need a break." Her voice was venomous as she glared back at the woman. She began to drag you away and you looked behind you to see the woman sending you an apologetic look.

Once you were out of view from the guards outside the VIP room, Wanda pushed you down another Hall and separated herself from you.

"You gave us a good excuse to get out of there." She spoke lowly, "not that I think you should be flirting with criminals while on a job."

"What was I supposed to do make a scene?" You were genuinely asking. Would she be happier if you'd just shut down the conversation right at the start?

"Of course not." She huffed walking faster down the hallway. "The girls are somewhere on the sub level."

"You mean the basement?" You chuckled.

"Sure" she led you toward where the staircase down should be, but before you could reach it she was ducking into a doorway and dragging you with her.

"Oof" Your back hit the wall and within moments you were trapped against it with Wanda leaning heavily on to you.

You suddenly felt out of breath. Then Wanda kissed you and stole what little oxygen you still had in your lungs.

It was a hot kiss, full of energy and passion that had been missing in every relationship you'd ever had. Before long you were gasping between kisses and Wanda was slipping her tongue into your mouth and you groaned, tightening your grip on her sides and pulling her closer to you.

It was all happening very fast. You hadn't quite caught on to the situation until you noticed footsteps passing by, you barely pried your eyes open enough to see two armed men walking by. They stopped, watching you for what seemed a bit longer than necessary.

Wanda's hands slipped under your your dress shirt and her nails traced your stomach. Within seconds you were much more focused on her than the men not so subtly enjoying your little show.

Wanda pulled away and pressed her forehead to yours to catch her breath. She giggled softly, not opening her eyes. You took the moment to study her. You always though Wanda was pretty, but up close and intimate like this, she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"I love you." She said it just above a whisper, so it reached your ears and likely the men behind her.

Wait what?

Her lips moved to your neck and your eyes fell shut again as you melted against her. What we're you thinking about again?

Her teeth grazed along a sensitive spot on your neck and you groaned. What was going on? You were meant to be doing something right? Where were you again?

Wanda laughed again, pressing a couple quick kisses to your neck before she pulled away to look at you. She looked amused.

"They're gone now." What? Who was gone?

You looked behind her at the hallway. It was empty. Oh.

Wanda pulled away and you found yourself missing her closeness.

"Let's go." She nodded toward the stairway and you cleared your throat, catching up to her. Right. Important mission. You needed to get a hold of yourself.

Getting to the girls was easy, seeing them was a different story. Your heart caught in your throat. They were so young. Younger than you were.

You grit your teeth. You were going to killed them, Gavroche and everyone else involved. You nearly turned around to confront Damien right away, but Wanda's hand on your arm stopped you.

"Let's get them out of here. We can take care of the rest once they're safe." Her eyes were compassionate. You held her gaze for a moment before closing your eyes. You couldn't think as quickly now, and it wasn't because Wanda was distracting you.

You nodded, "how?"

"The same way we planned. Sneak them out the back." She hesitated. "I'll used my powers to ensure no guards see us leaving. We'll have to take them in groups." Her hand lingered on your arm, rubbing your bicep soothingly.

You nodded, opening yours eyes with new resolve. You could do this.

You got to work freeing the girls of their binds. They were afraid, but you assured them you would get them to safety.

Things went smoothly. You were glad they did. You weren't sure if you could handle failing a mission like this. Soon enough the girls were free and being transported to a safe facility where they could get medical care and be returned to their families.

You were relieved. They were mostly untouched. You found them in time to save the majority of them from the horrors you'd experienced.

With the last girls quietly taken away, it was time to face Gavroche. You shuddered at the thought. You wanted him to pay, but you didn't want to look at his weasily little face again.

When you came into the room you were surprised to see the party was over. There was no one in the VIP room or out in the main area. You frowned, on your guard as you scanned your surroundings.

Then the white haired woman emerged from a previously unseen space, with Damien in cuffs.

"Thanks for the help." She smirked, looking you up and down.

That's why she seemed to recognize you. She must be S.H.I.E.L.D.

"So. Gavroche.." You caught his attention. "That's a French name meaning “street urchin” or “mischievous child”"

Wanda, the agent and Damien all looked at you quizzically.

"What of it?" He glowered at you.

"Nothing, nothing." You shrugged. "It just fits." You looked him over. "You're tiny and you look like you live in a gutter."

He grumbled something obscene in response. Wanda chuckled next to you. Then the agent spoke again.

"His employer is still out there. He narrowly escaped." You bristled at her words. "From what I understand you have a history with him. Preston Alexis."

You calcified. Freezing at the mention of his name.

"Y/n." Wanda touched your face, bringing your attention to her. "Do you know him?"

She knew the answer, but you nodded anyway. "Yeah"

"We're going to have you stay in a safe house. Both of you." The agent looked between you and Wanda. "Until we catch him. He's notoriously bad at hiding without help and his contacts are limited. We'll get him."

You only nodded.

The ride to the new safe house was a blur. In contrast to the ride to the party, you stared out the window, and it was Wanda who stole glances at you.

She didn't ask if you were okay, and you were grateful for her for not trying to have a conversation with you. You didn't think you could handle it. You were glad you had this mission with Wanda. With anyone else you would've had to explain your reaction to Preston's name. You'd have to relive your experience out loud.

You were curled up on the couch in the safe house. It was the first place you went after you got there. You hadn't moved at all in the time it took Wanda to take a shower and change into some clothes left in one of the rooms for agents to use.

The outfit was comically large on her. Large sweat pants much too long for her legs, with the waist cinched as far as Wanda could get them, and what had to be a quadruple x sweater that fell past her knees.

You would've commented on it if you weren't freaking out.

She tugged your arm until you were sitting up, and began unbuttoning your shirt. It felt far too intimate for the state of your relationship, or lack thereof, but you didn't complain.

After tonight, you wanted to be closer to Wanda.

Wanda pushed your dress shirt off your shoulders and you helped her get it the rest of the way off. Then she handed you a hoodie that was equally as oversized as hers. You put it on and chuckled. You were drowning in fabric. It was perfect though. Cozy and oversized in a way that felt safe. Like when you were a kid and you wore your uncle's jacket at the fair. It was a similar fit.

Once you were snuggled up in the hoodie, and sitting on the couch, Wanda turned on the TV and left the room. The screen was playing reruns of M.A.S.H. You smiled faintly. It was a comfort show, oddly enough.

You eventually took off your dress pants, opting to just wear the hoodie as a nightgown. You pulled the fabric over your legs as you settled back in just in time for Wanda to come back with two cups of tea. Eyeing the dress pants you left unceremoniously crumpled at the bottom of the sofa.

She didn't look at you, yes she glanced in your direction but she wouldn't hold your gaze. She'd watch you and look away the moment you looked back. You couldn't tell what she was thinking.

She handed you the tea and hummed quietly in response when you thanked her. You watched her pretending to pay attention to the show, and you were overwhelmed with the need to comfort her. Or did you want her to comfort you?

You thought back to what Natasha said. 'She thinks you're not over her invading your mind. She wouldn't explain why, but she said you're still haunted by it and I think she still blames herself for it.'

"I don't blame you."

Wanda looked up from her tea, still avoiding your eyes.

"I actually think I needed to see it again." You sighed, resting your chin on your knees. "You can't heal what hurt you if you black it out."

"You can't be serious." Her eyes were on you. You could feel them. You didn't look at her, because you knew she'd turn away the second you did. "You've had nightmares about it ever since we met. You project them a lot in your sleep."

You shrugged, "And I'll keep having them. Especially now."

Wanda didn't respond, out of the corner of your eye she looked mortified.

"That's not your fault."

"I read the mission file. Before you." She didn't avoid your gaze when you turned to her this time. "That's why I was so determined to go with someone else."

"What?"

"I- I was-"

"You were trying to protect me."

"In a way." She turned away, twisting imaginary rings around her fingers.

Within a moment you had crossed the couch to pull her into a hug. She hugged you back tighter than you'd expected, and she didn't let go for a while. You chose to enjoy the embrace, taking in her warmth.

It was strange to think only that morning you two would barely talk, and now she was quickly becoming a source of comfort.

Her arms dropped from around you, and you pulled away. "I think I want you on missions with me more often."

She looked surprised.

"I'm serious." You chuckled. "You were a genius. Even if I was undercover as a couple with someone, I wouldn't think to push them against a wall and kiss them when the guards came by."

You thought you might've caught a blush blooming on her cheeks, but Wanda turned away too fast for you to know for sure.

"I was just acting on impulse." She mumbled, sounding almost shy.

"Your impulse was great." You laughed. "In fact I don't think anyone has ever kissed me like that."

Wanda laughed out loud at that. "What?"

"Seriously."

"Not even Carol?" Was that a hint of jealousy you heard?

You and Carol broke up a while ago. She was off-world all the time. It just wasn't working out.

"Please." You scoffed "We never even made it past little kisses. We tried but there was never.. Passion. In the end we didn't really want each other anyway."

"What did you want?"

"Other people I guess." You shook your head. "I dunno"

Wanda looked at you again and you realized just how much closer you were than before. Wanda's eyes lowered and it looked like she was leaning toward you. Then she pulled away.

You imagined it. That's all. You imagined it.

You wished you hadn't.

What was happening? Were there feelings there? You thought there might be on your end.

She said she loved you in the hallway, but that was just for the distraction right? To make the guards feel uncomfortable enough to leave you alone.

But what if it was the truth? Slipped into a moment meant to deceive the guards. It was safe to say it then when you couldn't possibly think she'd meant it.

Wanda was looking at you with an unreadable expression. You were overthinking. Not too loudly you hoped. Could she hear you?

You wondered what Wanda falling in love with you would look like. She'd feel protective of you. She lost a lot of the people she loved. She wouldn't want that again. You imagined soft touches and gentle offerings of things meant to comfort you or lift your spirits.

You looked down at your tea, then back at the TV.

No. That just meant she cared. You'd just confronted something scary. She wanted you to feel better.

You were still overthinking.

Wanda was still watching you.

Your mind was running a mile a minute.

She sighed.

You found your thoughts pushing in a new direction. What would you falling in love with Wanda look like?

Would it be jumping the gun to think you already were? You had a crush on her before sure. Seeing her from afar. She was beautiful and thoughtful despite everything she'd been through. You could fall down that rabbit hole easily. You kind of wanted to. Even if you hit the ground hard and found yourself hurting.

"Do you want to go get dinner?" You asked, before you could even think about it.

Wanda laughed.

"We can't leave the safe house Silly." She spoke between giggles.

"Right." You nodded. "Wanna make dinner?"

There was a pause.

"With me I mean." You clarified.

"Sure" She chuckled. You both knew you wouldn't be much help.

You took her hand, pulling her off the couch, and you didn't let go as you walked to the kitchen together. It felt right. So you linked your fingers through hers as you made your way to the pantry.

Wanda laughed as you both took in the nearly empty shelves, save for a few cans.

"It won't be much of a dinner." She giggled.

You grabbed a can of stew and handed it to her, refusing to let go of her hand as you searched for something you could pair it with. Sighing after you found nothing with your first look over the cans.

"We'll make it work." You chuckled "Canned stew, and good company. Sounds great to me."

Wanda hid her face in your shoulder and your heart skipped a beat. She sighed out a giggle against your arm.

You just grinned and pulled her out into the kitchen again to find a pot to warm up your stew in. You searched through the cupboards with your free hand.

"Uh" Wanda tugged your hand to get your attention. "We could find it easier if you let go of my hand."

"So?"

"So are you going to let me go anytime soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

Wanda didn't respond. So you squeezed her hand and continued your one-handed search.

"Aha!" You grinned as you pulled out a small pot. Wanda laughed and took the pan from you mumbling something about you being a goofball.

You only smiled at her. She was entertaining your obvious silly flirting. That was a good thing.

Wanda set the pot on the stove and turned it on. She found a can opener and tried to move her other hand to open the can. When your hand moved with it she paused.

"Can I have my hand?" You looked just a little bit helpless, maybe conflicted. You pouted. "I promise you can have it back when I don't need it anymore."

You reluctantly let her go, and she thanked you as she opened the can. You sat yourself down on the counter and she smiled over at you as dumped the can into the pot.

"Do you just sit on every counter out of impulse?"

"What?" You looked around at yourself. "What do you mean?"

"Anywhere there's a kitchen. Where you can spend time. You-" Wanda interrupted herself with a laugh "You always end up on the counter."

"I don't know. I just. I wanna sit but I don't wanna leave the area." You rubbed at your wrist.

"There's-" more laughter as she pointed into the dining room. "There's a chair, several of them, right there."

"Nah I'm good here." You watched her crack up again.

You liked her laugh. It was cute. The cutest.

Wanda walked up to you, walking between your legs and resting her hands on your lower thighs.

"Now I'm really good here." You grinned goofily down at her and Wanda's nose scrunched up as she giggled st you. You booped her nose. You had to. You just had to.

She paused, rubbing at her nose for a moment before she smiled up at you. There was a beat or two of silence before you noticed the red wisps on the air.

"Magic huh?" You chuckled, glancing at where she was loading bowls she somehow found with stew. She wasn't even looking at it. The talent she held amazed you. How long had she been going through the kitchen while you were distracted?

"A while" she smirked and frowned in confusion.

"Did I say that out loud or just think it very loudly?"

"You've been thinking very loud since we got here."

Oh.

Oh!

"Shit. Okay then." You wanted to kiss her.

Damn it, intrusive thoughts!

A cute little laugh burst from Wanda's lips. She leaned forward just a little..

Then put a warm bowl in your hands and put a spoon in it.

You couldn't help but giggle with her in response. "You're a total tease!"

"You're not supposed to kiss a girl until after dinner on the first date."

"This is a date?"

"Well you did ask me to dinner." She shrugged. "Now we're having dinner."

So you ate dinner. Then you watched a movie from the stash of old westerns under the TV. Seriously, who stocked this place? Steve?

Then you walked her to the bedroom door.

"Goodnight" You smiled and turned around, she tugged you backwards by the hood of your shirt/dress.

"There's one bedroom. Where are you going?"

"To the couch?" You pointed back toward the living room with your thumb. "If we're still following first date rules, I'm supposed to drop you off at the door and go to my place."

Wanda giggled, then put on a soft pout.

"You forgot your kiss." She put her arms around your neck, leaning in close enough you feel her breath on your lips. "And I'm not above inviting you in on the first date. You're not sleeping on the couch."

With that, she pulled you inside and closed the door behind you. She let you go and turned to walk away.

"Ah!" You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her giggling form back into you. "My kiss!"

You planted a soft kiss on her cheek and pulled away, walking to the bed. You could play the teasing game too.

Wanda laughed behind you. "That's all you wanted?"

You omitted your response, choosing to instead pull back the sheets. She knew that you definitely wanted a proper kiss, but you were determined to tease her back. Give her a taste of her own medicine.

"Y/n" She tugged on your sleeve, and you turned with an attempt at a neutral expression, but just looking at her made you smile again.

She pushed you down to sit on the mattress and you genuinely squeaked as she settled herself on your lap, hands on your shoulders. She chuckled and you almost felt embarrassed, but then her lips were on yours and you forgot everything but the tingling of your skin as her lips moved against yours and her fingers slipped into your hair.

You balled your fists in her sweater and groaned as she bit your lip and pulled away for air. Your foreheads were pressed together again and you flashed back to the moment in the hallway. You would be thinking about that hallway for a long time, oddly enough in a good way despite everything that was going on there.

How could she take such a horrible, scary day and make it feel so good? You weren't even afraid anymore.

Because Wanda was there, and she was safe, and she was amazing.

"You're magical." You breathed out and Wanda grinned.

"I've been told that."

"You have?"

Wanda spun her magic between her fingers and waited for you to catch on. It took a moment. Or five.

"Oh"

Wanda started giggling. "Oh!"

"Hey! I'm in a post-kiss haze right now. Don't be mean." You pouted for about two seconds.

Wanda kissed you again. Softly, gently, and way too shortly. Then you were smiling.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"Today could have been horrible. I mean yeah we completed our mission but.." You trailed off. "I was content to be terrified and you made me feel better."

"What are friends for?" She grinned and you pulled back, frowning.

Wanda only laughed as you lifted her up and dropped her on the bed. You started to walk away but turned around and brought the covers over her shaking body as she kept laughing.

You tucked her in, then kissed her head and moved away.

"Goodnight" you said flatly and started to leave.

"No wait!" Wanda was still giggling as she scrambled out of the bed and pulled on you. "Where are you going?"

"To the couch." It tried to keep a straight face but you were struggling to keep from laughing.

"You can't leave me alone in here." She pouted. "Please stay?"

Damn she was good at this.

"Okay" you turned around and started getting into bed. Wanda slid in next to you with a cheeky little smile.

"Thank you."

"What are friends for?" You grumbled and couldn't help the small smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. "Friendly friends."

"Shut up." She chuckled and pulled you over into another kiss. "You're so fucking cute."

"Fuck you." You laughed a little and she grinned.

"Maybe some other time." She settled herself with her head on your chest and flipped the lights off with a flick of her fingers.

"Goodnight Wanda." You whispered into her hair.

"Good night moya lyubov" she mumbled into your chest.

You smiled as you fell asleep. For the first time, you wanted to sleep. The nightmares could come, but Wanda would be there in the morning, and that was where you wanted to be.

Tag list: @chelleztjs18 @i-do-it-for-the-gays @stonemags That's all I got

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tossawary · 3 months

Text

I was rewatching some episodes of Bleach a few months back and I still have a fondness for it. It's one of the first animes I ever watched at all, though I never got very far past that first big Soul Society arc; I used to watch episodes on TV as a kid with my family and I saw cool Bleach cosplays and other stuff frequently at anime conventions. I have a general idea of what happens later thanks to some fanfiction and other forms of Fandom Osmosis.

And I realized while listening to the episodes play in the background that I had... no idea where Urahara's kids came from??? Why are there two children just living with the former Soul Society captains??? I'd never gotten that far (if it was revealed in the main manga or anime at all) and had never come across the information in fanworks or on the few wiki pages that I'd browsed. So, I looked it up on a wiki, and it turns out that Ururu and Jinta are artificial souls like Nemu (this is revealed in one of the novels). Which made sense! I'd been expecting something like that or adoption of random spirit-sensitive humans (this was my guess) or whatever.

But it does make me wonder HOW something like that happened... and also WHY? It's very funny to me that someone in the Urahara-Yoruichi-Tessai throuple (non-canon to my knowledge, unfortunately) apparently decided that they wanted kids (with superpowers, of course) and Urahara just... made some. (Or Urahara was just experimenting and then decided to raise his mad science experiments properly. Maybe it was a "I can do ANYTHING better than that fucker Kurotsutchi and I'll fucking prove it" kind of thing.) Ururu and Jinta are Ichigo's younger sisters' age (uh, maybe, hard to know with artificial souls), so it kind of looks like this mad scientist babymaking went down after Ichigo was born.

My mind keeps going back to that "Text your partner: 'I want a baby'" meme from several years ago as a fic idea.

Tessai: I want a baby.

Kisuke: we already have the cat

Yoruichi: I'm baby

Yoruichi: fuck kisuke beat me to it

Yoruichi: kisuke this is your fault I told you not to let him hold ichigo

Tessai: He's very cute.

Tessai: I want one.

Yoruichi: where are you gonna get one? I'm not doing it

Kisuke: we are also exiled criminals, that feels pertinent to mention here as a consideration when family planning

Tessai: :(

Yoruichi: I mean we've done stupider shit

Yoruichi: still not doing it

Tessai: :'(

Kisuke: wait, don't ask another guy, I'll do it

Kisuke: give me a week

Kisuke: what color?

#tossawary bleach #urahara kisuke #shihouin yoruichi #tsukabishi tessai #fic ideas #spoilers #hanakari jinta #tsumugiya ururu

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ckret2 · 5 months

Text

Speaking of "there's a lot of layers going on underneath the surface that I don't even directly mention in the fic," here's something I'm so super smug about but that idk if anyone will pick up, so I'm just gonna highlight it myself—

From chapter 25, a scene from the kids cartoon that Mabel's making Bill watch in the hopes it'll turn him into a better person:

Prisma said, "Sometimes when our friends are sad, all they need is another friend to give them a hug or tell them they care. It'll help them feel happier."

"I don't know," Sunny said. "When I feel sad, being around other people makes me feel worse."

"Everyone's a little different, Sunny. Why don't you offer to hold his hand and see if that makes him happier?"

"I guess I could try."

"Nah, it's too late for Teddy," Bill told the TV. With some glee, he added, "The most caring thing you could do is put him out of his misery."

From chapter 27:

What could he do to make her less nervous?

"Hey." He held out his hand to her. She gave it a quizzical look, then looked up at Bill. He said, "Can't hurt you if I can't use my hand, right? Unless you expect me to start biting."

Mabel said, "This isn't, like... a deal, is it—?"

"No! What? There's no deal, where would there be a deal?" Irritably, Bill said, "I'm just trying to help, if you don't think it's helpful then fine, whatever—"

Mabel took his hand. He shut up.

I think the idea of Mabel's strategy ACTUALLY WORKING is extremely funny.

#about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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luwritesomething · 1 year

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read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side.

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep.

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew.

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you.

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?”

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri fic #mickey altieri fanfiction #mickey altieri x reader #timothy olyphant #scream franchise #scream #scream 2 #lu writes #lu writing #my writing #writing #fanfic #cigarettes after sex #inclusive reader

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isaut · 5 months

Note

32!

its so funny you say this. because like. this is such a chrollo x hisoka song. we gonna fight when i see you? that mean we gonna fuck. but its ok. im not writing that. megan drop your blog please. tw: reader reads acotar. chrollo x f!reader

send me a # and ill write a fic based on it!

"so you're seeing him?" your best friend, deidra, asks. she's standing over you where you sit at your work desk, trying desperately to hide your phone.

"i'm seeing him, but not like that," you say quickly.

"you're glowing," deidra says. she places her hands on your desk and gets into your space. "you haven't glowed like this in years. how many times did y'all fuck?"

"we didn't fuck!" you defend, albeit poorly. poorly because you've never been a good liar.

"i'm done talking," you had admitted, setting your martini glass on the table. there's one more sip of an espresso martini left in it. incense circles in the air, and your knee is touching kuroro's.

his eyebrows had raised in surprise, and he set his glass down as well. two sips left. "did i say something?"

you shook your head, leaning into his space "no, what you just said about liza was really hot. i'm going to kiss you now."

kuroro did not mention that he nailed liza's characterization from perusing your copy of notes from the underground. instead he gave you a lopsided, boyish smile and shamelessly flits his eyes from your own to your lips. it went straight to your core.

deidra snaps her fingers in your face. you jolt in your seat, brought back to reality. "what?" you snap.

"just admit you fucked! was it good?" deidra presses.

was it good? gods...

you had gripped onto your pillows like there was no tomorrow. your heel was squarely pressing into the middle of kuroro's back, one hand on your waist and the other pulling back your mound to reveal your pretty puffy clit.

kuroro's lips had barely left yours, his tongue sweeping through your slick. his arm applied pressure the best it can to your thigh, feeling it begin to close in against him. you had let out countless, shameless moans and they reach a crescendo as your hand tangles in his hair. you didn't know if you wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

your back had lifted off the bed when he removed his hand there, fingers joining his tongue. the coil winding up inside you tightened as his finger joined his tongue, as it swirled around your hole, already tight from how close you had been...

you cross your legs, remembering how it only took two of his fingers slighting through the tightness of your hole to make you cum instantly. how he shamelessly lapped everything up. how wet his face had been. how wet he made yours by lifting him up your body, fingers still moving slowly within you, to capture your lips in a deep, breathless kiss. how you had tasted on his tongue. how his tongue— you clear your throat and set your phone aside, face down. after all, the text that's begging your response is flirty in nature. i have ideas about tonight. he'd been typing when deidra had walked in.

"fuck off, deidra. i'm trying to grade," you say, picking your pen back up.

deidra laughs. "is he better than rhysand?"

"yeah," you admit, clicking your pen. "he's real."

#ask game #mailbox💌#chrollo x reader #kuroro #i havent written smut in soooo long #also if you know deidra you know #she’s from tmj and has a huge crush on this high profile fighter named hisoka

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spookyspecterino · 7 months

Text

Left Behind

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. Use of They/Them pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Characters: Sarah, Barrett, Sam Coe. Mentions of Cora Coe and Lillian

No spoilers for the end of game or Sam's romance questline

A little bit of angst, but with a happy ending, language, a sprinkle of pining. No official romance with Sam has started in this fic, but the hint of one forming is there.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you ask Sarah to go out exploring with you instead of Sam one day. He’s clueless as to why, until he talks to Barrett. After realizing his mistake, he’s determined to close this rift between you and him.

This idea came to me while playing the game and going through the many different conversations about Sam’s ex-wife, Lillian. I’ve since finished his romance questline, and needless to say, I loved it and the whole thing was worth it. More is on the way. I have written many outlines. I have a particular feeling that I'm going to need a starfield masterlist here soon.

Florescent lights in the interior of the Frontier. You’d have to change those, because now more than ever, you wanted to be anywhere other than here. Every action was spurred by this increasing desire to get the hell out. Things were shoved half hazard into your bag. You took only a few meager supplies, rationalizing that more could be scavenged from the temperate planet.

A deep voice over your shoulder only makes you frown harder. “Hey, you ready to go? Looks like a good planet.”

Maybe it wasn’t the lighting that made you want to leave, but it didn’t help.

“Yeah—uh, actually. Sarah—”

Your friend looks up from messing with the ship’s calibration. “Hm?”

“You wanna head out?”

She’s unsure what to do. Her eyes flicker to Sam. “Oh, er—sure.” Slowly, as if waiting for you to change your mind, she gets up to start collecting her gun and some supplies.

With a halfway look over your shoulder at Sam, “Gonna take Sarah with me today. Spend some time with Cora, or, I don’t know, play cards with Barrett.”

Or go think about Lillian

Sam doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. With your pack slung over your shoulder, you’re already heading toward the exit. “Ready Sarah?”

“All set Captain.”

The sound of the hatch opening and closing marks your speedy dismissal. Sam is left where he stood. Brows pinched. The ship is deathly quiet and oddly empty without you.

And Sam does what you suggested. He sits with Cora, listening to his daughter describe the books she’s reading, listens to all her theories on what the books’ themes are, listens to her feelings on the books’ authors—it takes up only a few hours. And he likes it, he always does, but somethings’ missing. Somethings wrong.

And you’re still not back. He’s bored to tears and can’t shake that funny feeling. It’s probably nothing. Right?

After a few more hours, when he tried to take a nap and couldn’t, he got up and decided to scan the planet. And then rescan it. Then scan the system, then rescan it.

Why’d you leave him behind?

Yesterday you were fine. Looking at him with those bright, happy eyes of yours. You were such a good listener—the way you leaned in, focused all your attention on him. It made him want to keep talking. Sam sighed, maybe a little louder than he intended, and leaned back in his chair, leg bouncing.

“What’s wrong, friend?”

He snapped out of his thoughts as Barrett appeared. “Not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. You’re shuffling around the ship like a kicked puppy.” He leans in a little. “You missin’ the Captain?”

Sam crosses his arms. “That’s none of your business.”

This makes Barrett grin even more, as infuriating as that is for Sam. “Oh sure, sure…I just can’t help but notice they decided to take Sarah today.”

“No shit.” Sam mumbles, looking away.

“Does that…bother you?” He holds up his hands in defense. “Not trying to be nosy, just attempting to help.”

“You’ve never asked if something’s bothered me before—or if you could help with it.”

“Well, it’s no secret the captain prefers to take you along.” He waggles his eyebrows. “As in they take you everywhere, man. Even Sarah was surprised when they asked her instead. It was more than a little awkward.”

Sam only groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“Did you two get into a fight?” Barrett leans in. “A little lover’s quarrel?”

“No! No—we’re not even…it’s not like that—there was no…I…” Sam’s jaw twitches. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“I don’t need you to be my counselor, Barrett.”

“Alright. Alright. Have fun trying to figure out why you’re stuck on the ship. Who knows, maybe you’ll figure out the reason they’re mad at you…in a month—or two.”

Sam frowns. “How do you know they’re mad at me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Barrett laughs. “You don’t even know you’re in the doghouse? Oh, you’re doomed.”

“Damnit.” Sam hisses. “Ok! ok. Barrett…” Sam grits his teeth as his friend slowly turns to face him with a grin. “Please help.”

“Say no more friend.” He claps his hands once, sitting across from Sam and getting comfortable. “Ok, how bad was the fight?”

“I told you, there wasn’t one.”

“You didn’t fight? Not even an argument?”

“Nope. Everything was normal yesterday.”

Barrett runs his fingers through his beard, deep in thought as he concentrates. “What did you last talk about?”

Sam sighs. This was already more than he bargained for. “Lillian.”

“Oooh, ex-wife troubles, huh?”

“Watch it, Barrett.”

“Alright, alright. What about the conversation before that?”

“Lillian, again.”

Barrett gives him a look. “Annnd the one before that?”

“Uh…I think it was…it was about Cora and Lillian.”

“How many times have you talked about Lillian with the captain?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to explain what Lillian’s like and what we’ve been through.”

“So, I’m guessing there’s been quite a few?”

“Sure, you could say that.”

The all-knowing Barrett nods. “There it is.”

“There’s what?”

“You two obviously have feelings for one another—” He holds up a finger as Sam tries to interject. “—don’t bother denying it, I see the little glances you give each other when you think no ones’ looking.”

Sam’s face tints a light shade of red despite his frown.

It delights Barrett and he continues on. “And since you two wanna be together and do all that sappy, lovey-dovey stuff, don’t you think constantly bringing up your ex-wife is a bit of a buzzkill?”

“I’m just trying to express how I feel. Can I help it that I’m constantly mad at Lillian?”

“That’s ok—I mean you obviously need to see a professional about it—but don’t bring it up every conversation. Especially when they’re trying to be sweet with you.”

“Sweet with me?”

“The lingering touches, the glances, the way they laugh at your jokes even when they’re terrible.”

“My jokes aren’t that bad.”

“Do you see Sarah and I laughing?”

“Erm…no, no I guess not.”

“Maybe ask them how they’re doing or ask them about their life. Lend an ear if somethings bothering them, but also, don’t try to fix it for them. Sometimes people just want to vent.”

“But that’s what I was doing—venting about Lillian.”

“You were doing it too much.”

“So, vent, but don’t do it too much? You’re not making any sense, Barrett.”

Barrett shifts into a straighter posture in his chair. “Let me run you through a scenario.”

He leans to the left as Sam watches with a raised eyebrow. “’Hello, Mr. Sexy Space Cowboy, how are you today?’” He makes over-exaggerated doe eyes to really sell it.

He shifts over to the right side of his chair and adopts a deeper, over the top, gravelly voice. “’I talked to my ex-wife, the mother of my child, last night. Here’s the specific details of our relationship and our history.’”

“’Oh, well, that’s nice. What if we talk about something else—’”

“’All I think about or talk about is Lillian.’”

Sam waves a hand, stopping Barrett. “It’s not like that. Plus, I’m not gushing over Lillian–I’m not even talking highly of her.”

“The fact that you keep bringing her up sends its own message.”

“What kind of message?”

“The sort of message that says you’re not over her.”

“But I am, I really am.”

“Have you explicitly said that in these conversations you’re having?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Seeee? Ok, let’s put you in the opposite position. The captain starts bringing up one of their old partners, constantly. They vent and they tell you all the horrible things about them, and all the good things too, but it’s like every conversation something about their partner comes up. How does that make you feel?”

“Wait, were they in a serious relationship?”

“Oh yeah. The most serious. Picket fence with a dog kind of relationship.”

Sam grips the handles of his chair. “When did they tell you this?”

“No, no, no this is for the demonstration. But do you see what I mean? I could tell you were getting a little on edge there.”

Sam clicks his tongue, leaning back and looking away. “I was not.”

“You looked like you were about to jump out of your seat.”

“…Ok, maybe I was.”

“Now imagine if that was real, and they brought them up as much as you do with Lillian.”

A hard pit forms in Sam’s stomach. “Alright, you’ve got a point there.”

“Doesn’t feel great, does it?”

Sam runs a hand through his hair with a long sigh. “I get it now. But how do I fix it? By bringing it up, isn’t that still talking about Lillian?”

“In a way, yes. You just have to get over that first hurdle and then let the love flow.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Let your feelings out!”

“That isn’t…that’s not really my style.”

“You’d better change that. Cause if not, you’re gonna get left behind more often, you’re going to grow even more distant, and someone else is bound to show up, you know that. The captains’ a catch.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“So just go out there and explain how you feel. And while you’re at it, confess you’re in love with them.”

Sam chuckles nervously. “That’s way too soon.”

“Ok, if the time isn’t right then maybe save that for later, when you inevitably mess up again. I will admit I like the dramatics a little too much.”

“What do you mean mess up aga—”

“It’ll happen. But we should really talk about if your approach doesn’t work.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

“The damage might’ve already been done. The captain may think you’re not over Lillian.”

“But I’ll tell them I’m not.”

“It might be harder to convince them than simply saying a few words.”

“So, what do I do?”

“You gotta let them go.”

“What?”

“You gotta give them their space and some time. Let them mull it over. You can’t force someone to be with you, and you certainly can’t force them to stop being mad at you. It would only make things worse.”

“You’re suggesting, if I talk to them and they’re still mad, I just…let them figure it out and step away?”

“If you love something, set it free. If it returns, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never yours to begin with.”

“Ah, clever. You had to sneak a phrase in there didn’t you?”

“It’s been too long since our game, friend. You spend all your time at the front trying to catch the captain’s eye.”

Sam’s head was starting to hurt and the pit in his stomach only grew when he imagined you exploring without him on a regular basis. He closes his eyes. “I don’t know if I could lose them. It would… it would tear me apart. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“That’s love.”

“I’ll talk with them when they get back. Or do you think I should go out there and find them?”

“The dramatic part of me wants you to do that…but the practical part says no.” He looks out the ships’ window at the sunset and mumbles, “Plus it’s not even raining.”

“What does rain have to do with anything?”

“Confessions in the rain always have more umph to them. Best to wait.”

Sam groans. “I’m gonna go stir crazy in here.”

“Just relax, think about what you’re going to say. In the meantime, shall we play a few rounds of our game?”

Their game of back-and-forth sayings has Sam feeling better, or maybe it was simply talking with Barrett, but it was late into the night when they finished, and you were still nowhere to be found. Feeling defeated, Sam went to bed, tossing and turning endlessly before falling into a restless sleep. The little dreams he could remember consisted of trying to find you, and chasing a ghostly figure that wouldn’t stay still.

It’s late into the next morning when Barrett registers you and Sarah on the ship’s scanner. Finally returning after your scouting expedition on the planet. What Sam would have given to spend the night out under the stars with you, it makes him burn with envy at the thought.

However, he quickly forgets about it as you come into the Frontier laughing and smiling with Sarah. Talking about some weird rock formation you saw on your travels.

“Certainly odd shaped.” Sarah laughed.

“Never seen one that big. Rock or otherwise.” You replied grinning, sending Sarah into another fit of laughter.

Sam almost didn’t want to spoil your good mood, a wave of uncertainty threatened to knock him over. In fact, he was so jostled seeing you happy and laughing without him that he avoided looking at you. Preferring to mess with the straps of his holster or fiddle with his jacket out of insecurity. Maybe you would be happier without him. Maybe he should just let you go—

“Hey, Sam. Can we talk?”

Your heavenly voice is both music to his ears and the reason his heart pounds out of his chest. He looks up at you, startled, confidence wavering, and sees your gentle eyes and smile.

“Uh, sure.”

You nod toward the hatch. “Let’s go outside.”

Sam catches Barrett’s encouraging look as he leaves. The fresh air helps, a little, after being cooped up in the ship for a day. You’re wringing your hands together and kicking a branch around as he joins you. Seeing you so anxious ties Sam’s stomach into painful knots.

You stand up straighter, shoulders squared. “Thanks for agreeing to talk.” Sam prepares for the worst. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

An apology? He wasn’t expecting it and his reaction said as much.

“The way I acted was rude and inconsiderate. I should’ve said something to you much earlier, rather than letting you rightfully assume you would be joining me instead of Sarah. For that, I’m sorry.”

He took a step closer, fighting the urge to fidget. You looked just as nervous as he was, and for a brief moment he wondered why. The apology did help, but his biggest question was:

“Why did you leave me behind?”

Your jaw flexed, eyes skittering around the landscape before taking the plunge. “I…I needed a break, I think—from talking about Lillian.” You were quick to raise your hands. “Not that I don’t want to support you and let you talk about your problems…I was just…”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes squeezed shut, you started over. “I care for you. That’s no secret. But sometimes I have my limits. Hearing you talk about Lillian—I want to be able to help you, and I don’t see any way that I can, when it comes to her. And that hurts. It makes me feel like lending an ear and my support isn’t enough—like I’m not enough. And the way you talk about her sometimes…” You trail off with a crestfallen look out into the distance. “What I’m really trying to get at is that stepping away from it for a day really helped. I have a clearer mind now and I’d like to resume our usual exploring together.”

So, Barrett was right—not that Sam was ever going to tell him. He starts slowly. “Well, I think it’s time for me to apologize now.”

“N-No, you don’t have to—”

He smiles, good-naturedly. You were always so kind to him. “Hang on now, let me finish.” He’s feeling more confident now, the fidgeting is gone. “I was a little hurt from yesterday, but now that I know why I wanted to say thank you for listening to me vent so much about Lillian, and I’m sorry that I went overboard. You have no idea how helpful it is to have you listen and support me. I’ve never had anyone do that, and it means the world to me.” He takes another step closer. “If you need to take some time for yourself, then take it. It would be unfair otherwise. I care for you, so much, and I want you to do what makes you happy.”

Sam thinks he sees your lip quiver a bit, but your eyes are full of nothing but adoration.

He continues on. “I’ve never said anything specifically about this, and I’m just hoping that it has some weight to it, but I’m not interested in Lillian anymore. I know I talk about her too much. But I haven’t harbored any feelings for her in a very long time, and I certainly don’t now.”

“You don’t?”

He chuckles. “Absolutely not. And I never meant to give you that impression either.”

A mixture of emotion spreads across your face, one moment you laugh—the next your mouth is twisted into an anxious and nervous tilt—and then you’re laughing again.

“I feel like an absolute dumbass.” You murmur, placing a hand on the back of your neck.

The grin is slow to spread across his face. “Don’t tell me you were jealous?”

You spin to face him. “Uh…well…jealousy is an unfortunate human emotion that’s inherent in every one of us—”

“Yeahh, it sounds like you were jealous.” He laughs, his brilliant smile beaming at you.

“It was only a little bit.”

“Mhm, yes, of course.”

You laugh and throw your hands up. “Come on, can you blame me? With you talking about her having the, and I quote, ‘voice of an angel’, how was I not supposed to be?”

Sam groans, half in pain and half playful. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

“I just quoted you. You totally did.”

“Well, I’m obviously the dumbass then.” He makes a great, joking bow. “Allow me to apologize—”

“No, no—” You’re grinning delightfully. “I won’t have any more apologies today. I will, though, have a hug.”

“Ah, much better.” He opens his arms wide. “Come ‘ere.”

Without hesitation you’re in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He can feel your smile against his skin as you pull him close.

The rift between you both has closed. And Sam felt whole again.

#sam coe x reader #starfield #gn reader #sam coe

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mommyashtoreth · 3 months

Note

TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR FIC PRETTYPLEASE (holds bowl out like a starving orphan) 🥺

YAYYYY okay I'm gonna like. dump a whole bunch of stuff that bestie @blackmarketjoy and I have been thinking about and working on and stick it under the cut BUT a little amuse-bouche: I'm currently workshopping a goodomens fan-minisode fic Thing that's set in the 1910s where Crowley is disguised as a live-in maid tempting Some Rich Guy into greed and financial ruin with her demonic wiles and sexy ankles, and Aziraphale is disguised as a war nurse who's been quartered in the same Fancy Rich House with some wounded soldiers under her care because you could just do that sort of thing back then. It's a liiiittle Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis-esque but not quite as pre-planned. Okay that's enough to get you goin here's all the extra nonsense (as Aziraphale and Crowley are both presenting as women in this Thing, she/her pronouns will be used for both throughout):

This whole concept actually originated from a DREAM I had that included Crowley in a vintage nurse's uniform because if I am known for anything it is my ability to be happy, big, and sexually normal. My friend Mifs then was like Oh what if Aziraphale was in a vintage maid uniform lol and that festered in my mind for a while. We ended up switching the roles around because it makes more sense with the timeline (since Az would have her bookshop by this time period and typically isn't wont to leave it for too long unless there's an extenuating circumstance) and is generally more in-character for Aziraphale to have the Helping People role.

As I've said before on this blog, I think it's Easy and therefore boring to reduce Crowley's skill of "temptation" to something purely sexual, especially when she's in girlmode. This isn't to say she's completely nonsexual in this fic thing, it's more fun for me if she isn't, but she's not specifically aiming to, idk, "inspire lust" or whatever. She's merely, idk, convincing this Rich Guy to make extremely bad investments while sitting in his lap or something, AND to reveal how much of an asshole this guy is. I don't know what the hell people invested in in the 1910s but I'm sure she'd pick something absolutely disastrous. Maybe she knew about the upcoming Great Depression

Meanwhile I think Aziraphale is here by complete accident, mostly bc I think it's funny when the universe pushes them together. Also because I'm imagining some sort of "Ugh, you again. What are YOU doing here?" "ME? I'm saving LIVES. I should be asking what YOU'RE doing here, foul serpent" interaction and I love it when women argue because they want to fuck each other

This whole thing is set during the winter because that gives Lots and lots and lots of opportunities for huddling for warmth, hand-holding, dramatic fireplace lighting, etc.

^ Related to huddling for warmth, I think Aziraphale (a little bit too excitedly) offers to room up with Crowley in idk, The Help's Quarters or whatever and they end up sharing a bedroom. Hayden idk if I've told u this but in the book Crowley sleeps despite not needing to (I don't Think this is ever mentioned in the show but like if a book thing isn't directly contrasted by a show thing it's canon to me) while Aziraphale doesn't, so I'm kinda just imagining Az spends all night reading while Crowley sleeps. But since it's cold as fuck Az eventually starts to like. read in bed under the covers while Crowley spoons her "for warmth." Also I know they don't Need light to see but I keep imagining Az summoning some kind of Holy Light to read by (maybe it's just one of the little human preferences they develop over time) and Crowley bitching about how bright it is and kinda pushing her face into Az's neck or shoulder "to cover her eyes." Yuri

Going back to some of the Rich Asshole Guy stuff. I think he's like, creepy and pervy and does a lot of Leering at both Az and Crowley, but is especially bad with Crowley since like "she's leading him on" or whatever. Both the Job minisode and the Edinburgh minisode can pretty easily be described as including some kind of "lesson" (almost always for Aziraphale) and I think it'd be fun to do a version of that where unfairly GOOD things (material wealth) are given to a BAD person, rather than the standard opposite. Ultimately the story would end with Rich Asshole Guy making some kind of unwanted advance and Crowley, having successfully driven him to ruin via his own greed, takes off her glasses and shows her eyes (I imagine he's asked her repeatedly to show her eyes, yknow in a You'd Be Prettier If You Smiled sort of way) and hisses and etc., Putting The Fear Of God in him before she and Az leave. Az could, idk, smite the guy or something too he'd deserve it

I think Az is like veeeery repressed sexually, somehow even moreso in girlmode than she is in guymode, and since Crowley is being Vaguely Sexy it's just the perfect yuri storm. Hayden u already saw the snippet I wrote about this but I'll recount it here anyway: Az pulls some like weird pseudo-victim blamey stuff on Crowley like "I don't know why you're surprised that he tries to look up your skirt, I don't know what you expected, pulling it up that high" bc she's working thru some stuff okay and that's the only way she can process the fact that she notices how much leg Crowley is showing at any given time. She knows better obviously and will admit as much it's just that divinity is a performance, yknow, and she's still trying to pretend to be dedicated to that.

IIIII keep imagining something with like Az smuggling human food and Crowley smuggling human alcohol and they have a little yuri dinner in like the courtyard or something, and Crowley gets to tease Aziraphale for stealing. And then Mifs added onto it this is All their ideas but it's really good so I'm paraphrasing it here: 1) Aziraphale gets sick of eating shitty watery period-accurate Soup For The Poor and decides to finally do something about it 2) since Crowley is a maid she'd have more access to the kitchen and leftover food and etc and since Aziraphale is a nurse she'd have more access to idk wherever rich people put alcohol because it's the 1910s and medicine is fake. So it's like them stealing bits and pieces away for each other yknow... themes

I think Some Rich Guy (who needs a name I'm very open to name ideas for all these side characters) should have kids so Crowley can kinda subtly turn them against him because idk, "honor your father and mother" is a Commandment and all that and therefore not doing so is A Sin even if your dad's a dick (Aziraphale can have a little Moment about this, I love putting her through Moments). I'm imagining this less in like a proactive Nanny Ashtoreth way (Hayden I know u haven't seen the show but Crowley's purpose as Nanny Ashtoreth is to instill as much evil into the child they believe is the antichrist as possible) and more in a "purposefully turning a blind eye and letting kids 'misbehave'" sort of way.

"Why doesn't Aziraphale just miracle her soldiers' wounds better" because she wants to spend as much time with Crowley as possible and she's enjoying the maid/nurse roleplay. Obviously. (When Crowley asks her about this she lies through her teeth, of course)

Another idea from Mifs I'm just gonna stick in here: Az has some kind of crisis because one of her soldiers is getting worse and Crowley has to calm her down about it. Shoulder grabbing, face grabbing, eye contact, hand-holding, etc. Very very psychosexual for them both. Also Crowley ends up doing something to help the dying guy, filling her Niceys quota for the minisode (but she's NOT nice! She's mean and she means it!)

OH working title for this courtesy of Mifs is "Of Lace and Lacerations" which I LOVE. Currently the Google doc I write all my ideas on is called "you like kissing girls don't you"

Idk how explicitly romantic (and possibly even sexual) this Thing is going to be, like the romantic tension is obviously obviously there but idk if there'll be kissing. I need to think on how "canon-compliant" I want this all to be (as romantic tension is very canon-compliant but explicit kissing and etc. is not so much). I've been thinking about a bonus feature at the end that's just nasty woman sex so stay tuned for that

And uhhh I think that's it! This is Way longer than I expected lmao but hopefully u enjoy it Hayden ily <3<3 and hopefully some other people enjoy this too! I'm very excited about how this has been shaping up so far and I really hope to write a real actual long-ish thing. This has been a really good exercise for me in story development, I think having the minisode structure to work within helps my ideas fall into place so much more easily (since I usually have a ton of problems with structure). Goodomens yuri forever I'm giving us the yuri minisode we never fucking got

#ask #skeletonsonparade #good omens #gomens #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable spouses #ineffable wives #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #it's not Really fic okay but it Will be. when i'm done with her #of lace and lacerations

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captainjacklyn · 2 years

Note

first year gang with a gen z reader please

Oh la la la ! This idea will surely be fun. Especially with the fact that my previous post had went completely overboard with crack.

Warning(s) : this fic contains cursing and a lot of it, please beware and read at your own risk.

Thank you for requesting anon !

First year gang with a Chaotic Gen Z reader

Holy shit-

reader just broke all the rules of heartslabyul.

in. front. of. riddle's. face..

Not gonna lie there, reader you're fucked up.

My boy was stupid enough but you just had to come here to absolutely destroy what was called 'peace'.

And turned this school INTO A FUCKING BLIZZERY

Every time you do dumb shit, his face is the definition of

"mom pick me up, I'm scared"

Please try not to tell riddle a your mom joke or this is going to be problematic- Aaaaannnnd you just did.

Why ?

Now he's hiding with you in a closet like in horror movies as riddle stomps around menacingly calling out for you like this :

Oh reader~ where are you ?

Well if you wished to die, today is the day my friend. And to be quite frank with you, getting murdered by riddle is the exact opposite of "He died peacefully in his sleep".

READER NO-

"HEY RIDDLE !! GUESS WHO I'M DOING TONIGHT ?!"

"YO MOMA-"

I pity riddle at this point.

You two are the partners in crime of night raven college.

Dear god, the worst thing you've done by now is smash through the windows of NRC will holding grim like a fucking flamethrower and ace just throwing oil everywhere to send the school into an inferno of madness and chaos.

To make matters worse, Crowley had to rebuild the school 37 times. And none of y' all got expelled because being malleus's closest friend has advantages.

You know what I'm saying ?

DEEZ NUTS-

ha ha...yeaaah

Well if you wished to leave something for NRC once you go back to your world, I'm sure that the one thing your leaving them is fucking trauma and piles of taxes from each and every student.

You too are basically the Elmo meme. Just standing in front of a raging fire as you summon Satan from hell.

I may be exaggerating to destruction side of ace but that's just how it's gonna be...

And you're gonna deal with it.

"how many times did Vil scold you ?"

Enough for him to receive a pimple the next morning.

You both will be the absolute death of the famous young actor Vil Schoenheit. (for those who have no idea whatsoever about the complicity of writing down that wretched last name you got another thing coming because I HAVE TO SEARCH IT UP ON GOOGLE AND COPY PASTE IT EVERY TIME HIS NAME NEEDS TO BE MENTIONED)

Moving on you are the perfect opportunity for epel to be himself and cause chaos amongst all dorms.

I'm hesitating on yes or not praying for your safety because at this point it will cause my death.

Stop slamming into people thinking it's funny, you are causing huge hospital bills for everyone and again with the jokes-

"YOUR MOM !"

YOUR DAD !"

"YOUR COUSIN !"

"YOUR SIBLING !"

You are literally having a battle while screaming random family members into each others face just to talk back and find a comeback. The room gets really silent once one of them says their grandpa is dead.

I'm sorry I couldn't fit it all into one headcanon, there will be a second part so that jack and sebek are included.

I hope you enjoyed reading this !

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asskickedbygirl · 1 year

Note

Hey there!

First of all: I love your work, you're doing a great job and I really love your writing style!

I'd like to request something (if you don't want to write that it's cool). I had some kind of a down time for the past few weeks and need something funny/comforting. I thought of maybe reader being a medic on the set of jackass and she and bam and Ryan had a troubled past. So when she sees them she's like "oh please don't get hurt" and the other boys are teasing her like "oh, are you worried about them?" And she's like "god no I don't want to see their faces more than I need to."

And bam or Ryan kinda start to like her and is jealous when the other guys try to flirt with her.

Can end in smut, even though I'm ace and not a smut fan, but the stuff you write is so good, I can totally live with that.

Thanks for your fics and happy new year!

Tell Me

[Ryan Dunn x F!Reader]

A/n: ASSKICKEDBYGIRL WRITING FLUFF FOR ONCE?!?!?!? 😱😱yeah there's a shock. thank you for the req sorry it took me a while to get around to it but thank you for saying that too!!! I've missed writing I wish I didn't have a life.

warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, cursing

2.9k words

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"You might be busy today, looks like Bam and Ryan are gonna fuck something up." Jeff tutted, glancing over to where the crew were setting up.

"God I hope they don't get hurt."

Johnny overheard what you said, a smirk appearing on his face as he wandered over to where you and Jeff were stood.

"And why's that? You got a crush? Worrying your pretty little head over em?" He laughed, ruffling up your hair as you tried pushing him off.

"God no. I don't wanna see their faces more than I have to."

Johnny's brows narrowed, unsure of why you had some sort of vendetta against the two buffoons from West Chester.

"They went to high school together." Jeff answered Johnny's confusion for you before leaving the two of you be.

"Ah I see. One of them an ex or something?"

You shook your head, scoffing.

"Definitely not. They were just idiots that's all."

Johnny could tell you were leaving some detail out as you continued setting up your station, the job you were supposed to be doing instead of chatting with the star of the movie.

"Did they pick on you? Cause' if that's the case I can kick their asses for you. We'll call it reparations."

Johnny's sweet talking pulled a little smile from you though you kept your eyes trained on the ground, afraid you might fall into Johnny's sunken ones as crushing on coworkers was totally a no-go in the professional sense.

"No it's okay. They were kind of assholes to a lot of people so it's not really considered picking on me. Just boys being dumb."

Johnny nodded, biting his lip.

"Well hell maybe they've changed, they're only jackasses professionally now!"

You laughed, glancing up to meet Johnny's eyes.

"Yeah, maybe they just keep the assholery for when they're getting paid."

Before you could launch into any further discussion with the heart throb, the two cast members you'd least like to speak to darted over, calling your name.

"Did you miss us?" Ryan laughed, wrapping an arm around you like you were the best of buds.

"Can't say I did Dunn." You awkwardly shoved his arm off of you, trying your best to continue unpacking though Bam sitting on top of your workplace made that rather difficult.

"Oh come on, you had to have missed me after I dropped out!" Bam chuckled, leaning back, Johnny simply observing the mini high school reunion.

"I will say Bam, Raab shitting on those lockers was the best thing he ever did, got rid of the two of you!"

That's when Johnny finally interjected, laughing whole-heartedly and clutching his chest.

"Raab did what?!"

"You don't know this? Raab got expelled for smearing shit on a bunch of lockers so Bam dropped out." Ryan smiled, relishing in relaying the story despite the fact he wasn't actually there to experience it.

"Chris committed a string of shit related crimes but that one was truly the last straw." You nodded, smiling at Johnny's joy.

"Well hey, they were pretty funny, you have to admit." Bam extended his arm, attempting to grasp some humour from you.

"Funny isn't the word I'd use... disgusting seems more fitting. Plus you guys were dickheads back then."

Bam and Ryan matched faces of confusion.

"What are you talking about? We were dumb kids everyone just ignored." Bam said, Ryan nodding along.

"Seriously? You don't remember?"

There was an awkward silence then, Bam and Ryan racking their brains trying to understand what the hell you were on about.

"Remember what?" Ryan asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek, glancing between the two boys and remembering Johnny was right there too, witnessing this strange sort of confrontation. You weren't sure if you really wanted to unload the words that swirled in your head through in your teen years in front of the guy you kinda liked, the idea was not exactly appealing.

"Whatever, forget it." You bit your tongue, grabbing something and pretending you had something else to attend to when you were just desperate to make an escape.

***

After that awkward little encounter Bam and Ryan seemed to be making an array of unnecessary visits to your station, pestering you for band aids and asking if random bruises 'looked okay'.

"Bam you've had thousands of bruises in your lifetime, I'm sure you know that looks perfectly normal."

"Alright yeah, I just wanted to come talk to you before Dunn or Knoxville had a chance." Bam pulled down the leg of his pants as your brows narrowed.

"What are you talking about?"

Bam grinned at you, like he knew something you didn't.

"No it's nothing, I just like talking to you."

Bam's glimmering eyes were seeping into you but it wasn't really working, in fact he was becoming more of a nuisance than anything else.

"Well I appreciate the fact you enjoy my company but I'm kinda trying to work here."

Bam rolled his eyes, not giving up.

"Oh come on. No one's hurt you don't have any work to do, just tell me why I was an ass and I'll leave."

As soon as the words left Bam's lips a yell was heard where Johnny was performing a stunt followed by a 'Medic!" shout.

"Fuck." You muttered, grabbing your kit and running over to where Johnny lay clutching his ankle.

"I think I broke it." He spoke through gritted teeth, eyes shut tightly.

You removed Johnny's hand to see the area was already swelling.

"Help me get him to the tent, I have an ice pack there." You called out to someone, Ryan jumping into play as he swung Johnny's arm around his shoulder while you did the same with his other arm, helping him up and steadying him.

A gaggle of people tried to follow you along but you shooed them off.

"He'll be fine, Jeff can you tell everyone to fuck off please?" You called out, Jeff simply shooting you a thumbs up and waving away any stragglers.

As you, Ryan and Johnny eventually made it to the med tent to sit Johnny down, you noticed a stray had followed you along.

"I don't need both of you here." You called out to Ryan and Bam who both pretended to look mightily concerned as Johnny winced and you fetched the ice pack.

"I'll stay." They both said in unison, earning a glare from you.

"I think I can handle a sprained ankle guys, goodbye." You pushed Ryan and Bam out of your tent and closed the curtains, turning to face Johnny.

"Sorry about those idiots, they won't fucking leave me alone." You muttered, removing Johnny's shoe and sock and placing the ice pack on his swollen ankle, causing him to suck sharply through his teeth.

"You think I fucked it up badly?"

"Nah, probably just a sprain even though it might seem a lot worse, you'll have to use crutches for a bit though."

Johnny sighed, looking pissed off.

"Well there goes two weeks where I can't do shit."

There was an awkward silence in the tent then as you kneeled below him, lifting his foot with your hand to elevate it.

"You know they probably like you right?"

"What?" For being so irritated and in pain, Johnny was really gonna bring up Bam and Ryan?

"The idiots. They have massive crushes on you, I know it."

You laughed, shaking your head.

"You're delusional."

Johnny smiled, staring at you below him, rooting through your bag for bandages.

"I think I'm very lusional actually."

"Oh god, lusional? He's losing it nurse this must be something far more serious!" You laughed, wrapping the bandage tightly around Johnny as he laughed too, wincing through the pain.

Bam and Ryan stood outside the tent waiting for you, their ears only being filled with joyous laughter, their teeth now grinding together.

"Think they need help?" Bam folded his arms, beginning to grow impatient.

"She likes him. Of course she fucking does, what girl doesn't like Knoxville." Ryan spat under his breath, kicking the ground beneath his shoe.

"You know, maybe if we weren't such dicks in high school she might give us the time of the day." He added, turning away from the tent to fuck off somewhere, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Come on dude, we weren't that bad." Bam called out but Ryan shook his head.

"Well clearly we were if she can't stand talking to us for more than two fucking seconds." He went off in a huff, regret coursing through his veins at the unknown actions of his teenage self.

Who knew being a bit of a dick in high school would come back to bite you in the ass?

***

It was a Friday night and the crew were off drinking at a local bar after a week of filming. Knoxville had been sentenced to two weeks on crutches and so was hobbling around the bar with them while Bam and Ryan were still falling over each other trying to talk to you. You sat in a booth next to Chris, sipping on your vodka soda and trying to ignore the pestering Bam who was getting more and more drunk by the minute when suddenly he spoke your name all serious.

"Just tell me how Ryan and I were such dicks to you in high school and I promise I'll fuck off."

You were pulled away from your lively conversation to be met with yet another awkward confrontation.

"Bam I don't wanna get into this, seriously." Bam threw his arm over your shoulder and pressed his finger against your lips.

"Just tell me! I'm sorry I was an asshole cause' now I really wanna bang you."

"Alright Bam! That's enough of that!" Like a deus ex machina, Ryan graciously came to your rescue, dragging his drunk friend away from you and pushing him towards another group of Jackass people.

Your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape.

"Sorry about him, whiskey is like his truth serum."

You just shook your head laughing, still in a state of disbelief.

"Well I wasn't expecting a love confession to go like that."

"He has a way with words." Ryan laughed, shrugging.

"I'm going to the bar and am not ordering whiskey." Chris murmured, sliding out from the booth and leaving you and Ryan alone.

"So you and Bam really wanna know why I didn't like you when we were younger huh?"

Ryan took a sip from his drink, trying to act as if he didn't care as much as his inebriated best friend.

"I mean, kinda but- yeah. Yeah we do wanna know."

You laughed, shaking your head.

"Fine, I'll tell you."

Ryan's eyes widened.

"You will?"

"I will. but! only if you tell me one thing."

"Anything, what is it?" Ryan nodded enthusiastically.

"Do you have a crush on me too?" Your smile widened, eyes burrowing into his own.

Ryan laughed awkwardly, eyes spinning around the room trying to avoid your gaze.

"Oh come on, what are we 16?"

"Well you wanna know why I thought you guys were assholes at 16 so?"

Ryan bit his lip, considering his options when he just settled on biting the bullet.

"Fine. Yeah I do have a crush on you. That's why I wanna know why you're not giving me any chances so bad."

You smiled smugly, picking up Ryan's glass of whiskey.

"God this stuff really is truth serum!"

You both shared a moment of laughter before settling down.

"Alright I'll tell you. Sophomore year you were a Senior. I kinda liked your hair and I thought you were cute."

Ryan bit back a smile.

"I was at my locker and you and Bam were talking and I kinda overheard your conversation."

Ryan winced at that.

"Well that's never good."

You scratched the back of your head, smile faltering slightly when you remembered what you were about to spill, the alcohol in your system making your lips a little looser.

"Well you know I was pretty quiet in high school. Didn't really talk to anyone except my close friends."

Ryan nodded, straying away from any jokes as he noticed your change in demeanour.

"Since I was so quiet I could kinda fly under the radar, overhear things nobody thought I would hear, I was kind of invisible like that. Anyways, one day you and Bam were talking about girls."

Your eyes were stuck on the table, not wanting to look up and back out of what Ryan had lured you into saying.

"I noticed Bam kinda nodded his head towards me and asked you 'What about her?' I didn't hear the first part but knew it had something to do with sex or dating or whatever."

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Ryan was turning red, already embarrassed before he was even told what he had to be embarrassed about.

"And you said something like 'Fuck no she's a prude. Just an uptight bitch.'"

Ryan swallowed thickly, eyes flicking down to his shoes.

"Then Bam was like 'Yeah she's a cunt. Wouldn't fuck me if I was dying.' and then you just laughed and walked off."

There was quiet then, Ryan shaking his head and sighing.

"Look I don't hold it against you. You were just asshole teenagers and I'm sorry for acting like a bitch late-"

"No stop." Ryan stuck his hand out, interrupting your apologetic spiel.

"I was a fucking dickhead, I'm sorry for saying that shit, it wasn't even true."

You smirked, biting your lip.

"It was kinda true. Still is."

Ryan met your eyes then, his expression hiding a smile

"I just said that bullshit cause' I thought you were cute and I didn't want Bam to get his grubby hands on you."

You rolled your eyes, properly laughing then.

"Oh fuck off Dunn. Don't pull that 'He's only mean because he likes you!' shit on me now!"

Ryan shook his head, smile growing.

"I'm serious! Why do you think Bam and I are falling over our feet trying to talk to you now?!"

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, smirk pulling at your lips.

"Are you telling me this whole time the older kid I thought was cute also thought I was cute?"

Ryan smiled before wetting his lips, arm moving himself closer to you.

"And what if I am?"

You laughed heartily, pushing Ryan's chest.

"Don't put your moves on me Dunn. Did you forget I'm a prude?"

He rolled his eyes again, chuckling.

"Come on let me walk you home before Knoxville breaks something else that you need to look at."

Ryan reached his hand out to pull you out of the booth.

"Jealous already Dunn? Guess you really are the type."

You allowed yourself to get dragged up, Ryan slipping his arm around your shoulder to usher you out of the bar.

"Hey where the fuck are you two going?!" Bam slurred out, bringing everyone's attention to you and Ryan.

You half smiled, unsure of what to say. That's when your eyes met with Johnny's as you witnessed him compute in real time what was happening. When he realised who you were going home with that night he simply smiled and winked at you. How was he always right?

"Taking her home asshole." Ryan called out, wasting no time in pulling you away, the urgency making you laugh.

As you walked down the streets of West Chester, Ryan's hand moved down to hold you by your waist, whispering crude comments about passer-bys in your ear to make you laugh when eventually you reached your apartment building.

"Thanks for walking me home." You smiled, holding your hand over where Ryan was holding your waist and turning to face him.

You looked into each others eyes for a moment, both of you smirking uncontrollably.

"I'd invite you in but, you know I'm a prude so."

Ryan rolled his eyes as you cackled, slapping his chest.

"I deserve that."

You smiled sweetly as Ryan did too, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a millisecond as your faces got closer.

"I don't think we should do anything tonight but..." You brought your hand up to rest on Ryan's cheek, rubbing his face with your thumb.

"I could give you something else." You whispered, leaning in and kissing him.

Ryan kept his hold on your waist but moved his other hand to touch your own face, deepening the kiss. He pushed your body to be closer to his own, moving his lips against yours roughly, beard grazing your chin. Before things could escalate any further you pulled away, allowing yourselves to catch your breath.

"You foiled my plan." Ryan laughed, brushing your hair off of your face.

"What?"

"My plan this whole time was to get the prude to sleep with me ten years later, it was strategy all along."

You both laughed.

"I see, you really plan ahead. I guess I'll just have to sleep with you now."

Ryan quirked an eyebrow at your obviously sarcastic response, resulting in a punch to the arm. You laughed pulling away from his hold on you.

"Goodnight Ryan." You turned your back to him and began unlocking the door as he still stood behind you. As the door opened you turned around, smirking before kissing him one last time for the night.

"Call me."

"I'd be an idiot not to."

"What's new?"

End.

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