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krirebr · 3 months

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Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!andy barber #dark!fic #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #fanfic #trapped au #kris wrote something

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notjustjavierpena · 10 months

Note

dying for you to right more of javi and reader!!! maybe them discussing having a baby or javi forgetting to pull out?? love the breeding kind from your last fic ❤️❤️

Fever

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: In my mind, this is a prequel to All Roads Lead To Someone. It was supposed to be cutesy, but it turned a little filthy too and suddenly it felt like he wrote himself. I hope you enjoy it, friend!

Summary: The beginning journey of trying for a baby with your husband, Javier Peña.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), established relationship, you indulge in Javi’s breeding kink, daddy kink if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, fluff & fun, domestic javier is sexy and charming and filthy, so much in love, riding, fingering, cumplay

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48106387

Fever

Javier raised a brow as you presented him with an empty blister pack. He was sitting on your shared couch, waiting expectantly for an explanation to what he could only assume was a lousy gift.

Unsure of what to do, he took the blister pack from your hand, stared down at it with a puzzled look upon his face for a moment before looking up at you once again, “This is the surprise? You got me empty foil and plastic? Are you losing it?”

You had told him to sit down and stay seated as soon as he had arrived home from work, pulled at his jacket to undress him and pushed him towards the living room. There had been a snarky comment about how eager you were, though when you hadn’t straddled him, but rather left him again, he had drummed his thighs impatiently until you had returned.

“Shut up, I’m not losing it,” you bit back, snatching the pill packet from him again to which he frowned.

“Hey, give it back, I was just starting to like it,” he teased you.

You twirled the empty packet between your fingers for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, “It’s my birth control. All gone. I’ve not gotten any more at the drugstore. Like we talked about.”

Javier’s mouth fell open. He sunk further into the couch for a moment, trying to process what he had just heard and you allowed him the time it took to register the words you had spoken.

After a few more seconds, he suddenly sat up straight again. He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to stand, not giving you time to say anything as he quickly closed the distance between the two of you to kiss you. You dropped the blister pack on the floor.

His hands came up to cup your face, holding you gently as he covered your mouth with his own. You responded by gently grabbing a hold of his wrist with your free hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

“When can we start trying?” Javier asked when he pulled back to catch a proper breath. He was beaming like a little boy on Christmas morning, grabbing a hold of you to lift you off the ground and into his arms. He spun the both of you around once and you squeaked his name.

“Well, the doctor said most people should be able to start trying already a month or two after stopping the pill, but he also said that anything could happen,” you explained when he put you down on the floor again, “Which means I’m open for business, baby.”

You leaned in to whisper the rest of your sentence in his ear, “Time to fuck a baby into me, Javier Peña.”

Then you pulled back with a satisfied smirk, because Javier was completely lost for words, and you found as you looked down, that he was also starting to get hard. It gave you reason to taunt him, “That gets you going, huh? To knock me up?”

“Don’t,” he groaned as a warning, holding his hand up to say stop.

“It does,” you giggled cutely, but there was something more devilish about it. You reached out for the buckle on his belt, carefully undoing it until you could pull the belt from its loops. You let it fall to the floor with a soft thud, going for his zipper afterwards, “I think we should practice our magic; we have to do it a lot in the coming months.”

Javier said your name softly and when you looked at his face, you saw him with damp eyes. It caught you off guard, “What? What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

“You’re actually gonna give an old dog like me a family,” he stated tenderly, and your first response was to chuckle softly in disbelief at him. He found your eyes and furrowed his brow.

“Hey,” you reached out to cup his cheek when you realized that he meant what he said, brushing it soothingly with your thumb, “Of course I am. Who else would be better than you? I can’t wait, baby. You’ll be the best daddy out there.”

Something shifted then. Javier leaned in to kiss you once more, this time with a little more confidence in the way that he carried himself. He reached for your clothes too now, pulling at your dress’ hem to lift it over your head, discarding it on the floor and finding your mouth afterwards again.

You pushed him backwards, mouth still on his, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. You broke the kiss by pushing him to sit down again, stepping back afterwards to take off your shoes and socks, then undo your bra to slide it off your arms.

“Gonna be such a pretty momma,” he said as he watched you undress except for the wedding ring on your finger, lifting his hips off the couch to shove his jeans and underwear down over his thighs until they hung around his knees.

You hooked your thumbs into your underwear, pulled them down so you could shimmy out of them until they fell around your feet. Javier swore from his seat on the couch as you revealed your whole self to him. squeezing the base of his cock as he started hardening fully.

“C’mere.”

You went to straddle him with a sweet little smile, hooking your leg over his thighs until you had a knee on either side of his lap. You were positioned right above him.

Javier placed his hands on the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh whilst you grabbed at the backrest of the couch. He looked up at you with his brown eyes which had gone darker with desire, “Gonna take real good care of you, make sure you have everything you need and want.”

“Yeah?” You said with a dazed expression as one of his calloused palms slid around your body and between your thighs. He teasingly dipped a finger into you, but only to the first knuckle.

“Oh yeah, so tell me what you want, mi amor.”

“You, Javi. Need nothing but you to cure me of this baby fever,” you moaned softly, gasping as he left you empty once more but even more so as he guided his cock into you in the next moment, “Need you to come inside.”

“Jesus,” he swore, finding your hips to fully push you down onto his length. You gasped at his generous girth, walls fluttering around him from the slight burn that it always caused as your body did everything it could to engulf him. You could feel his zipper gnawing into your ass, but it wouldn’t matter once you started moving on him.

When you finally felt the front of his thighs against the back of yours, you stopped moving to breathe in through your nose to steady your heartbeat. Your pulse was skyrocketing at the feeling of being so close to him despite the years that you had been together. No one had ever made you feel like this.

You kissed him deeply. He pressed his thumbs into the front of your hips, digging all ten digits into you possessively just to hold you in place as you sucked on his tongue, pulled at his bottom lip and moaned into his mouth. You’d move soon, you promised yourself, but not before his hands started to hurt a little from impatience.

“Ah,” you whined as you pulled back, but only to rest your foreheads together.

“Move your ass, baby,” he ordered with a slightly ragged breath, swatting your ass, “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you replied after gasping, but followed through on his command; lifted your hips off of him only to sink down dangerously slowly again. You moaned in unison, and whereas you would’ve liked to go so slow that you’d have him begging you to fuck onto him properly, your willpower to tease was gone at the first stroke of his cock inside of you.

You stared into his eyes, licking your lips as you wiggled a little on his lap. He groaned quietly, and you swirled your hips once and then twice, setting up a rhythm that had you both gasping soon.

“Yes, that’s it, use me, you look so pretty,” he panted as you lost yourself on his cock, leaning back a little to change the angle and riding him in earnest to chase an already climbing high; he always loved you milking him anyway. Plus, the sweet and domestic moment you had shared just minutes earlier was enough to have you both desperate for a hurried fuck. It would have you closer to your shared wish quicker than if you took it slow.

You held on tightly at the back of the couch, daring to lean just a little further back until the angling of your hips made his cock nudge against the front of your walls. You ground your hips down to feel the thick head of his cock ram into your g-spot, and you cried out his name before speeding up.

You started bouncing then, and Javier followed you by bucking his hips up into you until you moved in a well-known unison. There was no doubt: You just fit.

Pleasure tightened in your stomach as Javier fucked up into you, and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Everything about the situation and his body molding yours was intense. You needed to come, and you gave everything you had in you to reach your goal.

The thing that sent you over the edge was when he buried his face between your bouncing breasts, his open mouth kissing your cleavage before moving to one nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“Javi,” you whimpered as a last warning.

And then you came, hard and fast, muscles clamping down on his stiff cock that responded by twitching inside of you. He was so close, and you egged him on.

“Fill me up, daddy, please,” you begged desperately, moving erratically onto his cock despite your sensitivity.

“Chica sucia,” he praised with a groan, looking up at your face again, “Gonna— mierda, gonna pump a baby into you… y-you want that?”

“Yes! Fuck yes, please,” you nodded, mouth hanging open from the sweet pain of oversensitivity.

Javier spilled inside of you a moment later. You stilled your hips, letting him bury himself inside of you as he pulsed through his orgasm and coated you with himself from the inside.

“You know— hah,” he cut off for a moment, catching his breath and leaning his head back against the backrest of the couch. He let go of one of your hips to run a hand over his face, fingers carding through his hair with a breathless chuckle, “I think that was quite the practice round.”

“We may have to repeat that, I think, just to be sure we were doing it correctly,” you responded, voice oozing with post-coital bliss.

When you were just about to get up on your feet again, Javier took your hand and pulled you back down. He carefully laid you down on your back, “Not going anywhere. We need to make sure that it works, mi amor.”

“Someone’s been doing their homework,” you noted, but grimaced at him a second later. He had gotten up to tuck himself back into his boxers and pull up his jeans. You wiggled a little on the leather couch, “I don’t want to scrub come off the couch later, and you, mister, you just want to look at me being naked in your living room.”

“Is that a crime?” He asked, reaching for your dress on the floor. He slid it under your ass, “There.”

“I’m not law enforcement, but I don’t think so,” you bend your legs and spread them for show, feeling his seed drip out of you and onto the dress. Javier sat down by your feet, looking at the mess he had made.

“I think the way you just behaved on top of me is illegal in at least one country,” he said absentmindedly, reaching between your legs to push his come back inside of you. You squirmed at feeling his fingers inside of you.

“Guess I’m a criminal then,” you moaned.

“Criminally sexy,” Javier turned his palm upwards to press his fingers against your g-spot, making a come-hither motion until you lifted your hips up from the couch at the stirrings of a second orgasm.

“Some scientists actually believed that you increased the chances if you made your wife come after pumping her full of come,” he told you as if he was giving a lecture, “The pelvic floor muscles were supposed to contract and make it fucking stick.”

“Yeah?” Your breathing was speeding up again, clit throbbing despite being untouched. The wet squelching of his fingers in your cunt were filthy, getting dirtier as another wave of your wetness mixed with his come.

“Yeah,” he was calm, working his fingers a little faster and more determinedly, “Come on, I can see you’re close, baby.”

“I’m coming, fuck— baby,” you suddenly announced, voice high-pitched as the first wave of pleasure washed over you. Your legs fell inwards and your hands came down between your thighs as if they could help with the intensity, but you cried as the world around you shrunk into nothing, but the feeling between your legs as you rode the wave.

“That’s it,” Javier chuckled as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them on the dress. He let you breathe for a second before continuing, “Want a glass of water?”

“I can get my own water,” you started to get up, but Javier pushed you down on your back once more.

“You better get used to this, momma, stay,” he got up from the couch, heading for the kitchen, “One water coming up.”

You cursed him with a smile on your face as you heard glasses clinking in the kitchen drawer.

#javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javi pena #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena one shot #javier pena smut #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #asks #husband!javi

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lipglossanon · 24 days

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Oh By Gosh, By Golly

<It’s Time For Mistletoe and Holly…>

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x daughter fem!reader

• Prequel to Red Flags and Long Nights; this is the mistletoe ‘incident’ mentioned in passing from that fic 😉

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, INCEST, DEAD DOVE, kissing, sexual fantasizing, slight dirty talk, masturbation

not proofread, just a little quick fic 😉

Title from Mistletoe and Holly by ole Franky blue eyes 🤭

It’s late afternoon by the time you arrive at your parents on Christmas Eve. It’s kind of a pain in the ass to have to park on the street, but it’s what happens when you’re one of (if not) the last people to show up for their holiday party. Standing outside the front door, you brush your skirt smooth before ringing the doorbell. A very tipsy, very flushed looking aunt opens the door.

“Oh my god, look how big you’ve gotten!” She yells way too loudly, but it does the job and garners the attention of the rest of the party goers.

“Let’er get in the damn house before she catches cold,” an uncle gruffly states, nodding to you before making his way off to the living room.

You give her a polite smile as she ushers you the rest of the way inside, pointing out the various relatives you haven’t seen in years.

“There she is!” Your mom cries from her seat on the couch next to your dad.

“Hi,” a genuine smile crosses your face as you make your way over to them, setting your gift down under the tree.

“How was the drive?” Your dad asks, blue eyes glassy as he finishes off his whiskey.

“Not bad,” you answer, ducking down to give them each a quick hug, “the parking wasn’t great though.”

“Guess you’ll get here earlier next time,” he grins and your mom rolls her eyes.

“Drinks are in the kitchen, honey,” she makes to stand up but you press down on her shoulder.

“I’ll get it, mom.”

You’re at least five drinks in when you realize you’re on the drunk side of tipsy. But since you’re staying over for Christmas, you decide that one more definitely won’t hurt anyone (regardless of what future hungover you will think the next day).

You bump into a warm body as you leave the kitchen while they enter.

“Sorry,” you giggle, holding your drink up before it sloshes over the cup.

“No worries, sweetheart.”

You shiver at the low tone practically whispering in your ear. Turning, you come face to face with your dad who’s also looking like he’s on the drunk side of tipsy (maybe even the tipsy side of drunk). You laugh to yourself and he grins at you, crows feet appearing at the corner of each eye.

“What’s funny?”

“You wouldn’t get it, dad,” you pat his chest.

He takes after your mom and rolls his eyes but pauses before nodding up at the top of the door frame. Squinting in confusion, you tilt your head back to look and see a sprig of mistletoe stuck to the wood.

“Can’t leave til you give your dear old dad a kiss,” he teases, his hands cupping your jaw before he pouts his lips at you.

Finding it hysterical, you laugh softly before nodding, “Okay, okay, but now you can’t say I don’t ever listen to you.”

Both of you chuckle before Leon leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss on your lips, making you gasp in surprise at the tiny spark of arousal flickering through your veins. His eyes pick up on the change in your expression and he presses you against the door frame before kissing you more intently.

You sigh, lips parting as his hands grab your waist, fingers digging into your hips as his tongue dips into your mouth. Finding no resistance, only enthusiasm, he groans, the slick muscle licking into your mouth, spit messily dripping from your lips and making your clit throb.

You're unsure how long your dad keeps you pressed against the kitchen doorway, messily making out with you while he rubs his bulge against your thigh. Whimpering, you go to rock your hips, but the grip of his hands keeps you pinned in place, slick dripping into your panties from his assertiveness.

The loud slam of a door shutting down the hall breaks you two apart. You both stare at one another, eyes dilated as arousal throbs hot and heavy through each of you.

“I-I should-“

“Yeah,” his gruff voice makes you press your thighs together and his gaze darts down to the motion before dragging back up your body.

“Yeah,” you whisper, letting yourself give one last look to your dad’s kiss swollen lips before walking back to the living room on rubbery legs.

Catching up to your mom, you make some flimsy excuse about being tired and quickly make your way upstairs to your room. In no time, you change into your pajamas and climb into bed. Your head feels dizzy as you replay that dirty make out session from the kitchen. Whining to no one, your hand slips underneath the bands of your clothing to swipe across your slippery clit.

You can still smell your dad’s cologne, a heady mix of dark oak and cherry, that makes your cunt clench around nothing. Moaning quietly, you softly circle your swollen bundle of nerves as you daydream that you two went a little further. Pretending that it’s his own two fingers, rough and calloused, teasing across your pussy.

What if he would’ve pushed your skirt up? Seen the cute lacy panties you chose to wear that night. Would he like them? What if he just ripped them off, eyes greedily taking in your bare wet cunt.. watch as you drip slick all down your thighs just from some deep tongue filled kisses.

“Such a slut,” he purrs, “did your little puss get wet cause dad kissed you, baby? S’that it?”

That thought’s enough to push you over— orgasm cresting fast and hard, making your back arch and thighs shake as you cover your mouth to prevent too much noise from escaping.

Flopping down on your back, you let out a gusty sigh, pulling your hand out into the dim light of the room to see slick web between your fingers. Feeling too tired now to do anything, you lazily wipe them off on your sleep shorts, planning on washing them later. For now though, between the alcohol and cumming to the illicit thought of your dad, you fall asleep fast, leaving the crisis of the situation to be dealt with tomorrow.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x y/n #mind the tags #dont like dont read #dead dove do not eat

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starry-eyes-love · 8 months

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My Journey to You | Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Summary | (Post Outbreak) For the past year Joel Miller (age 52), You (Female Reader age 27), and Ellie (age 14) have been searching for Joel's brother Tommy. Recently someone had told you that he had settled in Jackson, Wyoming and now that is where you three are headed. Somewhere along the way, you have fallen hard for the broody, quiet, and sometimes grumpy man named Joel Miller. As the two of you navigate the wilderness together you also have to navigate your feelings for one another in the presence of a teenage girl named Ellie. Survival in the wilderness does not come easy and neither does a relationship with Joel Miller. The question is, can you survive the journey?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader. Ellie just is a travel companion and a teenager who is often difficult to deal with.

Fic Warnings | 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Smut, language, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N. See each chapter for specific warnings

Fic Notes | Welcome to my first ever Joel Miller x F!Reader fanfiction. I hope you all like it, as I am enjoying writing it.

No longer doing tag lists, turn on notifications to see when I post new stories.

Chapters

Prequel: Just This Once

Ch 1: Frozen Desire

Ch 2: Blood & Pain

Ch 3: Even Tough Hearts Break Under Pressure

Ch 4: Please, I Need You

Ch 5: Woodland Fun

Ch 6: You're Forever Mine

Ch 7: A Silent Promise to You

Ch 8: A Christmas Story

Ch 8.5: Dance With Me

Ch 9: Blood Within Me

Chapter 10 (in progress of writing)

going to be more than 10 chapters, unknown total yet.

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ad0rechuu · 4 months

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FROM STORM TO SUNRISE. ━━ JYH & SMG

prompts / plot. ━━━━━ you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found

part of the secret santa event. ━━━━━ fem! foreigner!reader x boyfriends! jeong yunho & song mingi , domestic fluff / slight angst (?) / an attempt at humor / soulmate au , staring: yn, yunho, mingi, mrs yang (oc) & an unnamed baker + cashier , tw: mentions of food, metaphorical storms and tornadoes and yn is basically panicking most of the time , wc: 1421 , notes: no pronouns used but fem reader + foreigner part not mentioned and yunho & mingi aren’t soulmates but this is all because of the prequel, also i imagined the town from hometown cha cha cha for this fic !

[ to @justhere4kpop aka nadia . . . ] happy holidays (and merry christmas if you celebrate) nadia! i was your secret santa, did you have any idea? either way i have to start by apologizing i was planning a much larger fic but than a bunch of things in my personal life came crashing down so i decided to continue writing the other fic (the prequel to this one) later which means you will get two gifts ! i know the writing is terrible with this one but if you liked this someone how it’s a nice surprise for both of us! i hope you have a wonderful day and i love you mwah <3

[ listening to . . . ] Dreamy Day by Ateez

masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

WARM RAYS OF SUNSHINE SHONE GENTLY THROUGH THE LARGE WINDOW, ALLOWING YOU TO WAKE UP IN PEACE.

You slowly opened your eyes while you stretched your arms up from underneath the blankets, a smile making its way onto your face as you felt the arm draped over your stomach move you closer in his tight grip.

Turning, you met your boyfriend’s squinting eyes. Clearly, he'd just woken up too. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and placed a kiss underneath your shirt on your bare shoulder— a silent good morning.

You'd just woken up and you already felt giddy. You moved your hand to the mattress next to you, searching for your other boyfriend’s warm body.

Your eyes opened fully, head snapping to his usual side of the bed when you realize he wasn't there. A small storm of worry brewed in your chest as you nudged your present partner, who seemed close to going back to dreamland.

He whined a bit and it took every bone in your body not to coo at him. You managed to get over your cuteness aggression enough to ask.

“Yunho, honey, where is Mingi?”

He was the early bird in your relationship after all. If anyone would know, it would be Yunho.

To your surprise, he didn't.

“I don’t know? Maybe in the kitchen? Bathroom?” He slurred, clearly not feeling the same sense of urgency as you yet.

“M’kay. I’m gonna look for Mingi. I’ll be right back.” You ruffled his already messy hair before removing yourself from his comfortable grip. The movement only caused more whining from the sleepy giant.

Yunho heard you make your way through the apartment. Your bare feet making a rhythm of soft steps on the linoleum floor, and your groggy but comforting morning voice called out Mingi’s name over and over again.

Your voice got more and more nervous with each call of his name ringing out with no response.

When you walked back into the bedroom, Yunho was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his hands. He gave you a worried look, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with him.

“Nothing?” He asked.

You fell back on the bed with a sigh as you shook your head no, racking your brain for where your boyfriend could possibly be at nine in the morning on the weekend. You felt Yunho reach over and gently push some hair out your face in an attempt to calm you down.

“I tried texting him but I got no answer either.”

Just as you were about to respond, a sharp feeling washed over you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

You knew what that feeling meant. It only happened when your soulmate was experiencing a strong emotion. It could range from heartbreaking sadness to mind boggling happiness to excruciating pain.

You jumped up, clutching the arm that has Mingi’s soulmate mark on it. Your eyes met Yunho's.

“I think Mingi is in trouble!”

SADLY, A SOULMATE BOND did not include a GPS. At least, that was not the kind you were blessed with. That would have saved you the trouble of walking aimlessly through the town in your pajamas and winter coats.

Due to Yunho not being Mingi’s soulmate and your soulmate mark being basically sharing skin with Mingi, you were no further than when you left the house half an hour ago.

Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing it in an attempt to shield you from the cold morning weather on the island. It was a sweet gesture. The growing panic heated your cheeks more then enough, but you appreciated the comfort of it nonetheless.

He stopped his brisk pace for a second and looked at you like a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Have you tried writing to him?” He asked.

You responded immediately by looking through your pockets for a pen or a marker, or anything that could stain your skin, but to no avail.

Yunho had the same luck. But he pointed you to the closest store, and without any words needed, the two of you rushed into the building, probably giving the poor cashier a heart attack.

“Excuse me, do you have a pen or something I could borrow? It’s an emergency!” You panted as her face contorted in confusion. She reached over next to her and handed you a pen anyway.

Before you could, Yunho quickly but gently raised your sleeve up, baring your arm for you. Despite the pressure, it made you want to giggle like a school girl. You kept your lovey-dovey feelings to yourself and began to write.

‘Song Mingi, where the hell are you?’

Normally, whenever you’d write something on your body and vice versa (left side for Mingi, and right for Yunho), the receiving party could felt a tingling sensation even before reading the message. You hoped with all your being that Mingi received that sensation right then too.

After staring at your arm for five minutes, you began to feel your heart speed up even more when you heard Yunho gasp from next to you as the letters you previously wrote where erased.

Finally, you felt the storm that had turned into a tornado in your heart calm down a bit, and the letters you wrote were replaced by messy yet familiar handwriting revealing Mingi’s location.

THERE HE WAS.

Through the display window of the bakery, you and Yunho saw him.

Mingi clutched a colorful box while one of the village elders, Mrs. Yang, pulled on the other side. Both seemed to be in an intense battle as the baker behind the counter watched the two awkwardly.

The closer you got, the more it hit you; the sharp feeling you felt wasn’t sadness, anger, or pain— it was his sheer competitiveness.

Yunho held the door open and both of you stepped through with the sound of the bell signaling your arrival. The baker gave you a friendly nod, but neither Mingi nor Mrs. Yang seemed to notice you, still too fixated on arguing over what you now saw was a beautifully decorated cake.

“Song Mingi!” Your voice resounded through the store as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

The man in question immediately forgot about the cake and trailed towards you like a puppy. He looked at you and Yunho with big eyes full of confusion.

“Baby, what're you doing here? Gosh, both of you are wearing pajamas, aren’t you way too cold?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

He tossed Yunho a judgmental look as if suspecting he was the reason you guys were here.

The older man flicked Mingi’s forehead before shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. None of this would’ve happened if you knew how to answer your phone or leave a note.”

“Yeah, we were so worried something happened.” You grabbed his attention along with one of the hands that was still on your cheek.

Mingi looked down sheepishly, his cheeks slightly reddening.

“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you were craving cake yesterday so I wanted to surprise you and Yunho with cake as breakfast in bed.” He pointed behind him, doing a double take as the cake he was just ready to risk his life for was long gone.

A heartbroken expression made its way onto his face. He looked at the baker, who only chuckled.

“I’m sorry, man. You snooze you lose.”

The baker pointed outside, where Mrs. Yang was gleefully walking away from the bakery with the precious cake in her hands.

Yunho let out a boisterous laugh, clutching his stomach as you patted the pouting boy’s cheek. Though that wasn't to say you weren't trying to reign your own laughter in as well.

“It’s okay, Ming! It’s the thought that counts.”

After a couple more minutes of comforting Mingi about his lost battle, he finally agreed to get another sweet pastry (which Yunho demanded to choose as compensation for everything).

As you three walked out of the store, you didn’t feel a storm or a tornado brewing in your chest. You felt a lovely calm wash over you as both of your boyfriends linked hands with you, one carrying the box with a well-deserved red velvet cake in it on the way home.

All the worry was replaced in no time with a warm domestic sunrise growing in your heart, and you knew exactly who were to blame for that.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

notes. again i did the gen tag list on hopes and prayers so i hope i have it right, please tell me if u want to be removed or added

taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear @nyukyujs @a1sh1teruu | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)

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eoieopda · 10 months

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all of eoieopda's bts fics + drabbles are linked below the cut.

psa: minors who like, reblog, and/or comment on any of my content (regardless of whether it's NSFW or not) will be hard blocked immediately. my blog is strictly 18+, so please indicate your (adult) age in your bio and/or pinned post before engaging with me.

🗝 key

☁️ — fluff 🌊 — angst ⚡️ — smut ⭐️ — series, spin-off, or prequel/sequel 🎙️ — part of the 1k drabblepalooza milestone event 📓 — part of the 2k drabblepalooza milestone event 🌱 — w.i.p.

navigation. bts permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules. headcanons.

lacuna series masterlist

aphelion ⭐️ 🌊 ⚡️// prequel to lacuna, strangers to lovers to exes au // kim namjoon was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. — listen to the playlist.

anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.

lacuna ⭐️ 🌊 ⚡️ // sequel to aphelion, ex-boyfriend au // in his twenty-eight years, kim namjoon had made countless mistakes. most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. the worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night. loving you, losing you, and now - picking up the phone. — listen to the playlist.

anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.

redamancy ⭐️☁️⚡️// sequel to lacuna, exes to lovers au // Kim Namjoon wasn't known for making wise decisions. He acted first and, on rare occasions, he asked questions later. The path he'd taken so far was left broken behind him, but the light at the end of that tunnel sure looked a hell of a lot like you. — listen to the playlist.

anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.

homecoming ⭐️⚡️ // lacuna au, established relationship au // your husband is out-of-town for two weeks. he may have to keep his hands to himself in the meantime, but that doesn’t mean he can’t tell you what to do with yours. — 1/8/24.

the one with namjoon and the necktie ⚡️📓 // corporate au, workplace rivals to ? au // in which namjoon learns who really has the upper hand. — request fill, 6/21/23

the one where namjoon is a fuck boy at a house party ⚡️ // one-night stand au // in which meeting namjoon for the third time's the charm. — request fill, 12/8/22

the one where namjoon is a "girl dad" ☁️ // established relationship au, dad!joon au // in which namjoon's fondness for crabs might be genetic. — request fill, 12/18/22

the one where namjoon takes you to nyc for christmas ☁️ // established relationship au // in which namjoon has encyclopedic knowledge of the tree at rockefeller plaza. — request fill, 1/16/23

"anywhere" by rita ora ☁️🎙️ // established relationship au //in which namjoon takes you around the world in 80 30 days. — request fill, 1/21/23

"tomorrow's ours" by lights follow ☁️🎙️ // established relationship au // in which namjoon can cure a bad day. — request fill, 1/7/23

the one with namjoon and the u-haul ☁️📓 // brother's best friend au // in which namjoon is buff, jungkook is late, & you're trapped in an elevator. — request fill, 4/12/23

the one with namjoon and the graveyard shift ☁️📓 // doctor au, friends to something au // in which there are two doctors working overnight in the emergency department and only one bed. — request fill, 6/25/23

meet me at the bar ☁️⚡️// law school au, best friends to lovers au // you're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

mmatb: epilogue ⭐️ ☁️ // epilogue drabble for meet me at the bar // as it turns out, there is life after the bar exam.

the one where you cook your friend-slash-roommate, seokjin, dinner ⭐️☁️ // roommates au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin may have feelings & also food poisoning. — request fill, 12/4/22

the one where seokjin stops being your friend-slash-roommate ⭐️☁️ // roommates au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin says he loves you & you spit on him. — request fill, 12/18/22

the one with kim seokjin and kim seokjin ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin has a surprise & you can’t get mad, okay? — 12/18/22

the one where seokjin is jealous ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin is a wee bit possessive & jimin is a lawless flirt. — request fill, 12/18/22

the one where your husband, seokjin, is domestic af ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin takes "laundry day" very seriously. — request fill, 12/25/22

the one with seokjin and his fishing partner ☁️🎙 // established relationship au, dad!jin au // in which seokjin finally finds a kim who enjoys fishing. — request fill, 12/30/22

the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin is ripped, zipped, zooted, and madly in love. — request fill, 2/26/23

"feel the same" by the millennial club ☁️🎙 // doctor au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin has sudden, acute lovesickness. — request fill, 1/11/23

the one with seokjin and the marathon ☁️📓 // friends to lovers au // in which seokjin has a lot of thoughts about rupaul's drag race & about you. — request fill, 4/8/23

the one with seokjin and without complaints ☁️📓 // fake dating au, friends to lovers au // in which you’re bad with directions and keeping secrets. — request fill, 5/11/23

"seven" by taylor swift 🌊🎙 // friends to strangers au // in which you can't recall seokjin's name but you've still got love for him. — request fill, 12/31/22

darksided series masterlist

foresight ⭐️☁️⚡️// (flashback) prequel to darksided & blindsided, strangers to lovers au // it all started with a bad joke and a bottle of tanqueray. — listen to the playlist.

darksided ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au // min yoongi adored you. he'd simply never hurt you — unless you asked. — listen to the playlist.

blindsided ⭐️⚡️ // sequel to darksided, established relationship au // after years of dating, you thought you had min yoongi all figured out — you didn't, and when he flipped the script on you, you never saw it coming. — listen to the playlist.

hindsight 🌱⭐️☁️⚡️// sequel to blindsided, established relationship au // tba

the one where yoongi loves to tease his shy gf ☁️ // established relationship au // in which yoongi loves making you blush in public. — request fill, 12/16/22

the one with yoongi, the cat, and the turf war ☁️ // established relationship au // in which yoongi is jealous of your cat. — request fill, 2/27/23

the one with yoongi, netflix, and zero chill ☁️ // fuck buddies to ? au // in which yoongi has possessions & hobbies… the fuck? — 3/10/23

the one with the doughboy and the greaseball ☁️📓 // childhood friends to ? au, hallmark-esque au // in which someone returns to their hometown, and there are family businesses to run, and stuff. — request fill, 6/14/23

"can't remember to forget you" by shakira ft. rihanna ⚡️🎙️ // exes to… nope, still exes au // in which yoongi is the “best man” & the worst mistake. — request fill, 1/15/23

the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas 🌊📓 // childhood friends to lovers au // in which the runaway bride runs straight to yoongi. — request fill, 4/8/23

interlude: sunrise ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // two years after your first night with min yoongi, you wake up next to him in a parisian hotel.

interlude: sundown ⭐️⚡️// darksided au, established relationship au // as it turns out, your boyfriend can take as much as he gives.

the one where yoongi takes care of you ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which you are sick, but yoongi is down bad. — request fill, 11/30/23

problem ⭐️ // darksided au, established relationship au, halloween special // yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock.

dadchwita vol. i ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which you & yoongi have three kids but no sleep. — request fill, 12/23/22

dadchwita vol. ii ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which yoongi learns to braid your daughter’s hair. — request fill, 1/2/23

“what sarah said” by death cab for cutie ⭐️🌊🎙️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which yoongi keeps his vow. — request fill, 12/26/22

liar, liar ⚡️// fwb au // hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff.

the one with hoseok and the teapots (tw: miscarriage implied) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which hoseok is fucking sorry, too. — request fill, 3/3/23

the one where hobi loves you - not despite, but regardless (tw: depression) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which "the chair" is no match for hoseok. — request fill, 12/6/22

the one where hoseok plays with fire 🌊⚡️📓 // star-crossed lovers au, rival gangs au // in which you are the secret that hoseok would die to keep. — request fill, 4/14/23

"only for a moment" by lola marsh 🌊🎙️ // friends with benefits au, unrequited love au // in which hoseok stays the night but not the morning. — request fill, 1/28/23

"we'll never have sex" by leith ross ☁️🎙️ // newly-established relationship au // in which hoseok kisses you just to kiss you, not to take you home. — request fill, 12/28/22

the one where hoseok comes home ☁️ // established relationship au, october 2024 au // in which love looks different every day, but hoseok never changes. — 4/17/23

the one with hoseok and the magic fingers ☁️📓 // co-workers to ? au // in which there is only one (1) bed. — request fill, 5/24/33

the one with hoseok and the palm reader ☁️📓 // university au, meet cute / strangers to ? au // in which hoseok’s fate line suggests that he’s unlucky, but your presence at this house party suggests otherwise. — request fill, 6/23/23

menace ⭐️ 🌊⚡️// fuck buddies who hate each other au, brother’s best friend au, completed // just because you hate him doesn’t mean you can’t fuck him.

"NFWMB" by hozier ⚡️🎙️ // established relationship au // in which jimin wants to be held by you, felled by you... — request fill, 12/8/22

the one with jimin and all that turbulence⚡️ // one-night flight stand au // in which jimin founds the metric equivalent of the mile high club. — request fill, 3/18/23

the one with the hall pass ⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which you and your boyfriend, taehyung, both want to fuck his best friend. — request fill, 8/13/23

the one with the hall pass pt. ii ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which jimin just really loves his friends, okay? — request fill, 11/24/23

the one with jimin and the synonyms ☁️📓 // established relationship au // in which jimin is the king of mental health days. — request fill, 4/28/23

the one where you drunk dial jimin with approx. 5-7 feelings ☁️ // friends to lovers au, idiots in love au // in which jimin commits 43% of the seven deadly sins in one fell swoop. — request fill, 12/23/22

the one with jimin and the boomerang ☁️ // friends to lovers au // in which jimin ponders death, taxes, and other inevitable things. — request fill, 3/6/23

the one with the clownfish and the anemone ☁️📓 // fuck buddies to friends to lovers au // in which your relationship with jimin goes backwards. — request fill, 6/24/23

the one where your brother, jimin, believes you (tw: implied sexual assault) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, siblings au // in which jimin is there to listen if & when you want to talk. — request fill, 12/17/22

reckless serenade ⭐️⚡️ // sequel to “the bad thing” drabble, infidelity au // your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, kim taehyung, can’t keep his eyes off you.

"the bad thing" by arctic monkeys ⭐️⚡️🎙️ // infidelity au // in which taehyung takes a big swing and your wedding ring. — request fill, 1/5/23

the one with the hall pass ⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which you and your boyfriend, taehyung, both want to fuck his best friend. — request fill, 8/13/23

the one with the hall pass pt. ii ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which jimin just really loves his friends, okay? — request fill, 11/24/23

the one where taehyung buys you mandu and tampons during your period ☁️ // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which taehyung is not only a good boy, but the best boy. — request fill, 12/23/22

the one where taehyung skips a date to build your ikea furniture ☁️ // childhood friends to lovers au // in which taehyung sacrifices his friday night to the hasvik. — request fill, 1/25/23

the one with taehyung and the rook 🌊📓 // enemies to lovers au, chaebol au // in which taehyung plays the long game. — request fill, 5/4/23

the one with taehyung’s indecent proposal 📓☁️ ⚡️// fake relationship au, fuck buddies to ? au // in which taehyung would rather die than show up single to a class reunion. — request fill, 6/12/23

stay ☁️ ⚡️ // best friends to lovers au // “jungkook." his name was merely a sigh flying out of your lungs and through your parted lips. “if we do this — if we go down this road — how do we go back?” — listen to the playlist.

title tbd 🌱🌊⚡️ // enemies to lovers au, post-nuclear apocalypse au (insp. by fallout series), raider!jk // tba

the one with jungkook, the weekender, and the impossibilities 🌊 // established relationship au // in which jungkook is bad at prioritizing & somehow even worse with words. — request fill, 3/18/23

the one with jungkook and the sharpshooter 🌊 📓 // enemies to lovers au, hurt/comfort, mafia au // in which you shoot first and plan later. — request fill, 4/22/23

the one where jungkook has to sleep on the couch 🌊 // established relationship au // in which jungkook finds a loophole in the most jungkook way possible. — request fill, 12/16/22

the one where jungkook thinks you’re perfect (tw: body image issues) ⭐️🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which jungkook is down bad. — request fill, 12/7/22

the one where he thinks you’re perfect (jjk pov) ⭐️🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which jungkook is down incurably bad. — request fill, 12/27/22

"hey old friend" by dearly somber 🌊🎙️ // best friends to strangers au, missed connection au // in which the hotline, to your knowledge, did not bling. — request fill, 1/27/23

the one where jungkook gives you a tattoo ☁️ // strangers to ? au // in which jungkook thinks ghosts should mind their own damn business. — request fill, 2/26/23

the one with jungkook and terpsichore ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungkook watches you pole dance & goes mildly-to-moderately feral. — request fill, 3/15/23

the one who bites and the one who doesn’t ☁️ // newly-established relationship au // in which you face the final boss: jeon bam. — request fill, 3/13/23

the one with jungkook, his son, and the lightbulb ☁️ // established relationship au, dad!kook au // in which jungkook wants to be the very best (dad), like no one ever was. — request fill, 1/16/23

the one where jungkook is the world's clingiest/softest bf ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungkook fashions himself into a weighted blanket. — request fill, 12/3/22

"more than you know" by axewell /\ ingrosso ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungk— is that a boombox? in the year of our lord, 2023? seriously? — request fill, 1/28/23

the one where jungkook isn’t dreaming ⭐️ ☁️ // stay au, friends to lovers au, morning after au // in which jungkook has pinched himself, like, four (4) times already. — request fill, 12/30/22

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts series #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts drabble #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jade writes #jade's masterlist #jade's drabbles #jade's requests

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neochan · 5 months

Text

before i leave this site completely, i want us to have one more year of nct fics & filth. if my happiness for writing returns while doing this, i may keep my presence on here longer.

regardless, below are the fics that i have planned / half written / outlined / thought up. over the course of the next year, i will be posting the ones you vote on.

once you read over the fics, please use the link at the bottom of this post to vote for your favorites.

THE PICK ME CHRONICLES WILL BE FINISHED IN FULL REGARDLESS!

(STANDALONE FICS)

no synopsis, but i can offer: toxic exes au, street racing, using his rival as a means to make him jealous, he is insanely possessive.

okay, so maybe hooking up with a masked stranger wasn't the brightest idea. but you didn't expect him to actually blow your mind. unfortunately, the only clue as to who he is lies in the jacket he left behind. now, with the worn leather that still faintly smelled liked him in tow, you're on the hunt to find your prince charming...but you know what they say: if the jacket fits.

no synopsis, but i can offer: christmas au! flirty hyuck, friends to lovers, comedy(?)

after seven years, haechan still has a crush on you, but you seem to only have eyes for jeno, and haechan isn’t good at controlling his jealousy. (harry potter au)

no synopsis, but i can offer: incubus!jaemin

(SERIES)

according to your parents, it's all for the business. get married to the competitions son so the companies can merge, and business will be fruitful, and you'll be rich. easy, right? wrong. it'd be easier if the person you were marrying was someone you didn't know, but you knew jung jaehyun, in fact, you knew him a little too well, and you didn't particularly like him. though his bestfriend peaked your interest the first time you met... and the second time... and the third. (can change the pairing to dream members)

spend a summer at camp with nct dream as demigods, captured within five different stories

son of hermes!hyuck x daughter of athena!reader

son of ares!jeno x daughter of eros!reader

son of posiedon!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader

son of aphrodite!jaemin x daughter of hermes!reader

son of apollo!mark x daughter of hades!reader

THIS IS MY FAVORITE WIP!! after the tragic death of punk rock band PARASOCIALs leader, lee minhyung, the label is desperate to piece the teenage dream back together again. in an attempt to revive their chart breaking success, they've reached out to you - a rising star already signed to their sister label. but what happens when you realize they're nothing like the press paints them to be? has the band slipped too far out of the limelight for you to save them? GENRE ▸ angst, smut, rockstar!nct dream, band au, vocalist!renjun, guitarist!jeno, drummer!jaemin, vocalist & bassist!haechan

my one shot 'rule breaker' is a prequel to this series.

no synopsis, but i can offer: dysfunctional family vibes.

illegal street fighter jeno

graffiti artist renjun

street racer & addict haechan

thief mark

drug dealer jaemin

!!!!! VOTE HERE !!!!!

#nct smut #nct dream smut

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janaispunk · 7 months

Text

Masterlist

safe and sound

An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Trusting them isn’t easy, but you won’t let another person die in this house. It doesn’t take long until you’re terrified of the day they’ll leave again. ~ongoing.*

no one can hurt you now

You’ve been traveling through the country with Joel and Ellie. After finally arriving in the safety of Jackson, you realize how much Joel means to you. ~1.2k

need that charles dickens

"What do you say, have I been a good elf for Santa?" "Am I Santa in that scenario?" "Sure," you grin mischievously, "if you come down my chimney." ~1.9k*

it’s nice to have a friend

Joel and you have been best friends for years, but maybe this Christmas it’s time for the both of you to admit that that’s not all you want. ~2.6k

it’s the season

Joel had promised his daughters that they would bake Christmas cookies this weekend - which turns out to be more complicated than he had anticipated. Fortunately, their new neighbor next door can help. ~1.8k

still bejeweled

After breaking up with your boyfriend, your self-esteem is crushed. Your best friend takes you to your favorite bar to take your mind off of things. There's a band is playing there tonight and the singer immediately catches your eye. Inspired by Taylor Swift's Bejeweled. ~4.4k*

making forts under covers

You and Joel wake up to a gloomy fall morning and all you want to do is drink your morning coffee and stay in bed. ~1.9k*

“be a good girl and spread your legs”

drabble. ~0.2k*

the dress series

You’re having an affair with Dave York. When he takes you on a week-long vacation, you realize that you have deeper feelings for him than you should. ~35.4k, completed.*

wildest dreams series

You get to know your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected. ~ongoing.*

three’s a crowd

It’s your birthday and Dave has a special surprise for you. ~3.4k*

constellations in his eyes

Your fiancé stands you up on your birthday. Dave doesn’t. ~0.7k

when we go crashing down

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time. ~0.8k*

look at me

“You’re gonna be good and clean up after yourself, hm?” ~0.3k*

nights are so starry, blood moonlit

Javi and you are neighbors. And friends with benefits, in a way. Things become… heated. ~1.4k*

glitch

Prequel to nights are so starry, blood moonlit. How you and Javi became neighbors with benefits. ~1k*

take my hand, wreck my plans

Javi seeks out your company after a rough night. ~0.5k

delicate

You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him. ~3.9k*

little lion

drabble, ~0.4k

* indicates smut

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates 🫶🏻

#masterlist #janaispunk #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #dave york #dave york x reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #janas fics #javier pena x reader #oberyn martell x reader

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anna-scribbles · 3 months

Note

can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?

ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.

i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy

all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.

i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?

adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.

how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?

and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?

i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.

as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.

it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now

ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.

thank you for asking!! mwah<3

#thirteen #anna rambles #asks #sorry for writing SO MUCH #in my defense i’m sleepy #and i just started rambling #adrien agreste…..kissing your forehead my love. tucking you into bed. agreeing with you about tamaharu #i don’t even know if this answered the question this is just truly my process #the process is that i think about adrien agreste and then write it down #ml

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myangelhaven · 10 months

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This is my recommendations of LEEKNOW fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesnt)

Credits to the authors!! All informations written are taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.

HAPPY READING!!

KEY:

[❀]: fluff [𖤓]: angst [☄]: sad [☾]:smut [⟡]:smau [✮]: my favs

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮------------LEEKNOW------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

ONESHOT

SERIES

his first chance by @jnginlov [𖤓][☄][⟡][breakup]

lee know reached out to try again

(part II) :lee know can’t bring himself to open up and messes up his first chance (prequel to his second chance)

Bubblegum by @cb97percent [☾][✮][3some][situatioship] 8.3k (2 parts) NEW

Minho constantly being in love with himself in the group chat frustrates the shit out of you, and you desperately want to teach him a lesson. Meanwhile, Chris has other plans in mind.

Pudding 7.4k: The declaration that Minho was a virgin until your night together drills a hole in your head. It can't possibly be true because who the hell fucks like that with no prior experience?

What's your sine? By @jeonginssa [❀][𖤓][collegeau] 10 parts NEW

My sunshine by @staysuki [❀][𖤓][⟡][suggestive] 15 parts

pure, optimistic, carefree, and innocent— that was you, known as the campus sweetheart. but with such a personality, people only really ever saw you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less.

tactless and crass yet devilishly handsome, lee minho was well-known around campus for probably all the wrong reasons— but to the people close to him, they know that there's more to him than meets the eye.

you two belong in different worlds, living as people with very different personalities. you two have never interacted even after 2 years of university, and everybody thinks it would remain that way. yet, after a cruel twist of fate involving an accidental blind date mishap, your worlds collide; and maybe, you two weren't as different as everyone thought.

Cupid's Christmass by @btssmutgalore [❀][𖤓][☾][✮✮][e2l] 67.5k (5 parts)

Your friend creates the perfect Christmas blind texting event for all her single friends, including you. While you're texting a person who seems to be perfect for you, you start interacting with your college arch-nemesis, Lee Minho, a lot more.

part II | part III | part IV | part V

Hello stranger by @mintquokka [❀][𖤓][⟡][✮][s2l][ghostau] 40 parts

After moving into a new apartment, y/n learns that she got more than she bargained for.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄more to come!⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

☆-------------------skz masterlist-------------------☆

#skz masterlist #leeknow x reader #skz recs #leeknow recs

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venus-haze · 2 years

Text

The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Gif credit to @karamelcoveredolicity

Summary: You’ve been Elvis’ personal assistant since his Comeback Special in ‘68. Your work leaves you little time for a social life, but you don’t mind, you get to work for Elvis Presley, after all. When Priscilla leaves him and he finds out the truth about the Colonel, your relationship with him shifts drastically. And not for the better.

Notes: Reader is a woman, but there are no other specific descriptors. Obviously I don’t condone the behavior in this fic in real life. Please read and consider the warnings before reading this fic. All content that could be considered disturbing is under the cut. Let me know if warnings need to be updated or added. Requests are open🔮 Do not interact with my blog or posts if you are under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and abuse of power, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Some sexual content that involves coercion, but nothing overtly explicit. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Prequel | Part 2 | Part 3

You were fresh out of college when you snagged a job at NBC’s studio in Los Angeles as a production assistant. The first year or so was mostly getting coffee and answering phones, only doing real work on sets every so often. You ended up getting on the good side of one of the executives when you managed to find a pilot script that had gone missing. From there, you were working directly on sets, brushing shoulders with stars you could have only dreamed of meeting.

The highlight of your career as a production assistant came along when you were assigned to work Elvis Presley’s upcoming Christmas special. You thought it sounded a little corny, but at least you’d get to be in the same room as Elvis, the man whose face adorned the walls of your teenage bedroom.

The "Christmas special" became a covert operation to actually film Elvis’ musical comeback with as little interference from his odd and overbearing manager as possible. You felt like you were part of a team, something bigger than yourself, especially when Steve Binder had asked you to personally assist Elvis throughout production, spiriting him away when needed to avoid the Colonel.

"Me? Steve, I don’t know if I’m qualified to do that. I mean, he’s Elvis Presley," you’d argued.

"Y/N, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t trust you. EP needs someone reliable in the network right now," he said.

That was more than enough convincing for you, although when you formally met Elvis, you were shaking like a leaf. He was kind, taking the time out of what you knew was his busy schedule just to talk to you. Your professional relationship developed, and he began asking your opinions on aspects of his career unrelated to the special.

You were surprised when he had approached you before production was even over, offering you a position as his personal assistant going forward. Without hesitation, you accepted, giving NBC your notice as soon as shooting for the special had wrapped up. Your friends balked at the decision, but you had the last laugh when the special finally aired that December and set Elvis’ career trajectory skyrocketing again.

He had told you about his plans to tour the world, finally be able to go to Europe, and even Japan. He’d need extra help for such an ambitious undertaking, and you nearly cried when he said he saw something in you that made him know you’d be the perfect fit. The prospect of traveling internationally was especially appealing; there were so many places you wanted to visit, but couldn’t afford to go.

As time went on, these dreams of foreign cities were replaced by sold out residencies in Las Vegas and adrenaline-filled tours throughout the United States, but you didn’t mind that much. Elvis had become a close friend to you, and you’d spent many hours just chatting with him in his suite or dressing room. It didn’t even feel like work sometimes.

You didn’t know what you’d be without him, probably still clawing your way up the ranks at NBC or another studio. You were his shoulder to cry on when Priscilla divorced him. Not that you necessarily blamed her, Elvis was by no means perfect, but he was your friend. Your heart broke further when he informed you of the Colonel’s lies and how much debt he’d put Elvis and his family in to fuel his own greed and gambling addictions.

You developed a habit of checking on Elvis in his dressing room after his Vegas shows, it was when he seemed to be most troubled, most vulnerable. The door was closed, so you knocked, making Elvis aware of your presence. You could hear a muffled "Come in," and entered.

Elvis’ dressing room was always in some state of mess despite the International’s housekeeping staff, with plates of hastily eaten meals and various glasses of half drunk alcohol strewn about the room. His elaborate costumes were either hanging on a clothing rack, or styled on mannequins.

He sat on the crushed velvet couch, his head in his hands. You noticed the empty whiskey bottle on top of the vanity and frowned. It wasn’t good for him, not with all the pills and potions Dr. Nick passed out like candy.

"You put on a great show tonight! Like you always do," you exclaimed as you approached him.

He lifted his head. "Y/N, you can’t leave me," he said, the desperation in his voice startling you. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying. You couldn’t tell whether it was tears or sweat dripping down his face.

"Elvis, what are you talking about? Why would I leave?"

"Everyone else has. You see the news, I’m washed-up. No one cares about me anymore."

"I care about you. You’re so important to me," you said earnestly, sitting next to him and putting your arm around his shoulders. "I mean, since we first met, we’ve hardly spent a day apart."

That did make you feel guilty. You liked Priscilla, she was always kind to you, but you knew the distance must have taken a toll on their relationship. The drugs too, which you tried to curtail his use of to the best of your ability. For better or worse, you felt an obligation to take care of Elvis, especially now when he seemed more alone than ever.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the change in the way he was looking at you, as if seeing a completely different woman from his personal assistant of nearly three years.

He engulfed you in a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You returned the gesture and swore you must have imagined feeling his lips press against your skin. Rubbing comforting circles into his back, you held him for what felt like hours.

"Maybe you should head up for the night," you suggested. "Take a shower and try to get some rest."

He lifted his head, opening his mouth as if to respond to you, but instead he nodded, getting up from the couch and walking over to the door. You followed, taking his hand in yours as the two of you stood in the hallway.

"If you need anything, you let me know, okay? I’m not going anywhere," you said, hoping your smile would reassure him.

"Thanks, darlin’. You gave me a lot to think about," he said.

His gaze was intense as he brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a kiss. You felt your face heat up at the gesture. He’d given you quick kisses on the cheek before, but this seemed more intimate.

Someone called for him, and he dropped your hand, clearly annoyed by the interruption. You used this as your opportunity to bow out for the night, letting him know you’d be returning to your own room in the hotel.

You took the elevator up to the floor just below the penthouse, where you and almost everyone else in Elvis’ entourage resided. Of course, your room wasn’t nearly as big as his suite, but it was nicer than any apartment you’d rented in LA. Elvis wouldn’t let you pay for anything yourself, from room service to use of the hotel’s many amenities, claiming it was part of your benefits as a Presley Family Enterprises employee. You could definitely see how his generosity played a role in landing him in debt to the Colonel’s "management company," so you decided not to overdo it.

Just as you were starting to get comfortable and wind down for the night, you heard your room’s phone ring over the sound of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” playing on the TV. You sighed, reaching over to the nightstand to pick up.

"Hey, Y/N," Jerry said.

"What’s up, Jerry?"

"EP wants to see ya."

"Oh, why didn’t he just call me?"

"Who knows. He just told me to tell you," he said. "I’m headin’ down to the casino."

"Alright, don’t have too much fun," you said as you hung up.

It was odd, Elvis knew your room’s phone number. You supposed he was busy with something else, and Jerry was the closest person around. You put your dress from the day back on, sliding into your shoes before leaving to go up to the penthouse and see what Elvis needed you for.

You were the only other person who had a key to Elvis’ suite at the International. When he’d given it to you, the two of you alone in his dressing room after one of his shows a little over a year ago, you accepted it with pride that he trusted you so much. Still, you never exploited the privilege, even knocking beforehand as a courtesy.

"Elvis? Jerry said you needed me?" you called out as you unlocked the door to his suite.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the televisions on the wall. You noticed Elvis sitting on the couch in his silk robe, with little else on that you could notice.

You gasped, turning away from him. "Oh—my, I’m so sorry, I’ll—"

"C’mere," he said, voice deep and smooth. He was still sweaty from the show earlier that night, his jet black hair messy and sticking to his forehead. He had a bottle of some kind of alcohol in his hand, which he placed on the coffee table in front of him.

You stood frozen in place.

"Don’t make me ask twice, darlin’. And lock the door behind you," he demanded.

With a ragged breath, you did as he said, hearing a pleased hum rumble from his chest when he heard the door lock. A commoner entering a throne room, you approached him cautiously, his eyes blazing as they followed your every move. You felt ten inches tall, and for the first time since you met, you were truly intimidated by him.

He let out an amused scoff when you sat on the far edge of the couch. "Closer, baby."

You got up, hesitantly sitting down next to him. He put his hand on your thigh, sliding the hem of your dress up higher and higher, until you placed your hand over his.

"Elvis, this isn’t appropriate," you protested.

He gave you a sly grin, his eyes hooded as he leaned over you, effectively trapping you on the couch. "I’m just tryin’ to make my best girl feel good. Don’t you think you deserve that for how hard you work? How good you are to me?"

"I don’t need anything. Just making you happy is enough for me," you said, hoping to quell whatever was bringing on this change in his behavior.

"It’d make me real happy if you just lay back and let me take care of you for once, huh?"

Unsure of what else to do or say, you nodded. Not so long ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before, especially when you first met him, in awe of how impossibly handsome he was in person. You’d actually felt bad about your fantasies when you got to know the man behind the star, charming and kind, who seemed to take a genuine interest in you despite your having no status in the entertainment industry. Maybe he really was trying to take care of you, recognize your devotion despite everything falling apart.

You gasped when his fingers brushed over your panties. The cool metal of his rings on your thighs made you feel all the more sensitive.

Softly, slowly, the way the serpent must have spoken to Eve in the garden, he whispered, "Tell me you love me, and I’ll give you everything."

"I love you. I love you, Elvis," you whimpered.

The worst part was that it was true. You did love him, to a fault, you’d now come to realize, but you never wanted things to end up like this. There was no romance, no passion. It all seemed so desperate and dirty.

"I love you too, Y/N. It’s you and me now. Just us, baby," he panted, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders as he stripped you of your clothes. He shed his robe, and as you had expected earlier, wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. Your head was spinning as he kept muttering ‘I love you’ while he kissed and groped you, his hands warming your skin as it made contact with the cool air in his suite.

You weren’t sure when you’d ended up on his bed, but at some point when he had nearly suffocated you in a kiss, he must have grabbed you by the hips and guided you over. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you grabbed for a sheet to cover yourself, but he caught your wrist in his hand.

He clicked his tongue. "I don’t think so, darlin’. I wanna see what’s mine."

Everything was a blur from there, and when you woke up that afternoon, you felt sore all over. You remembered you were in his bed, and tried getting up, only to be kept in place by his arms snaked around your middle, holding you against him. Grabbing one of his arms, you pulled it off of you, and then the other. Just as you were about to get out of his bed and as far away from him as possible, he stirred awake.

"Where do you think you’re goin’?" Elvis asked, his normally bright blue eyes, stormy and dark.

Your eyes widened, not expecting to be put on the spot like that. "Bathroom."

He nodded. "Alright, come back to bed when you’re done in there."

You grabbed your bra and panties that had been discarded on the couch, sighing when you noticed the zipper on your dress was now broken. Continuing into the ornate bathroom, you locked the door before you even turned the light on.

As the room was illuminated, your hand flew to your mouth in horror when you saw yourself in the mirror. Your neck and collarbone were littered with dark hickies, your waist and hips with finger-shaped bruises that almost looked like stripes on your skin.

With shaking hands, you reached for a cup, filling it with water from the sink and taking small, slow sips. You didn’t want to go back and have to face him, and decided to try to drag it out as long as you could. You slowly redressed, taking care of how sensitive your skin was. A few minutes had gone by, and you hoped he’d fallen back asleep so you could get the hell out of there.

Your heart dropped when you opened the bathroom door, seeing Elvis speaking on his bedside phone. He looked at you, a smile spreading across his face. Hastily, he ended the call and beckoned you back over to the bed.

"I ordered room service, should be here in a few minutes," he said. "I got your favorite."

"Thank you," you said. What else was there to say? ‘Hey, what the fuck was last night?’ You situated yourself in his bed, pulling the covers up over your chest.

With a gentleness he failed to display last night, he moved your head to give you a tender kiss on the lips. You kissed him back, but pulled away with a hiss when he placed his other hand on your bruised shoulder.

"Oh, baby, I went too hard on you last night, huh?" he cooed, caressing your cheek. "I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ll be more gentle next time."

"Next time?"

He didn’t notice you squeak out the question as room service had knocked. He got up from the bed, throwing on his robe as he made his way to the door. The room service staff entered the suite with their cart of food and drinks, but you kept your gaze cast downward, too embarrassed to even attempt to make eye contact.

He sat down to eat, but you hadn’t left his bed yet.

"Eat up, Y/N, before it gets cold," he said.

"Can I have something to wear? My dress broke," you said.

He seemed amused. "‘Course, darlin’. I’ll buy you a new one."

Elvis handed you one of his robes to put on, and you wrapped it tightly around yourself, wanting to keep your body as covered as possible. His hand was on the small of your back as he walked you over to the table where the dishes were laid out. Your favorite dish was placed next to where he was sitting. Did the International’s kitchen even make that?

The two of you ate in silence, which you were thankful for. Despite the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite. Eating your comfort food improved your mood a bit, and you allowed yourself to sneak glances at Elvis when you thought he wasn’t looking.

You were so confused, about what had happened that night and your own feelings about him. You weren’t sure you could bring yourself to hate him, not when he caught you staring and gave you a boyish smile. He’d never acted the way he did last night before, and you couldn’t think of any time he indicated he was attracted to you, at least not that you noticed. You knew you needed time on your own to think.

"I think I’m going to head back to my room to shower," you announced when you finished eating.

"Why? There’s a perfectly good shower in here," he said.

"I need my shampoo."

"Just be down for the soundcheck at 6, alright?"

"Okay."

"I love you, baby," he said.

"I love you too."

You gave him a kiss and fled the suite, wasting no time in running to the elevator. You frantically pressed the button to your floor, and as soon as the doors opened, sprinted to your room.

Shedding the robe he had given you, you threw it across the room, along with your bra and panties. When you showered, you had scrubbed your body as much as you reasonably could, as if it would undo what had just occurred the previous night.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do more than stare at the wall, exhaustion washing over you. You were dreading the soundcheck, only three hours away, but you couldn’t claim illness. Elvis had just seen that you were fine, and you didn’t want any of Dr. Nick’s "medical care." You caked concealer and foundation over any visible hickies, and threw on a scarf for good measure, hoping to avoid any potential questions about where you’d gotten them if anyone noticed.

To your surprise, the soundcheck and next few days went smoothly, as if the encounter in his suite never happened. The only thing that changed was he’d kiss you in front of others, and introduced you as ‘his girl.’ The congratulations were sweet, but the claims from his band and the Memphis Mafia that they ‘knew it would happen sooner or later’ shocked you. Were you that oblivious to Elvis’ feelings toward you before?

On an afternoon before yet another Vegas show, he asked you to meet him in his suite. It sent a wave of anxiety through you, but you agreed, figuring what had happened a few nights ago was a one-off incident, the result of whatever had been injected into his veins before the show and the overwhelming feelings of loneliness he’d been struggling with.

You cautiously entered the suite, relieved to find the lights on, curtains open, and Elvis fully clothed, playing a tune on his piano. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he crossed the threshold to meet you.

"There you are," Elvis said, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Did I keep you waiting too long?"

"Y/N, darlin’, I had the best idea," he said, smiling the way you hadn’t seen in a long time, enthusiastic and full of life. You’d hoped the past few days had been a fluke, and he was back to his old self again.

"What is it?"

"You and me get married. Whattya say?"

Your face fell. Though he and Priscilla had been separated for a while, the ink was hardly dry on the freshly served divorce papers. It definitely wouldn’t look great publicly, but he was in no state to get remarried so soon, especially not to you. "I’m not sure that’d be a good idea."

"Why not?" he looked hurt, as if it had never crossed his mind you would answer with anything but an enthusiastic ‘yes’.

"I know you’re still hurting from Priscilla leaving, but—"

"But I have you. And if I don’t have you anymore then I—I’ll—" He stormed over to the glass case that housed his gun collection, which had only grown as of late.

You immediately rushed over, hugging him from behind in an attempt to restrain his arms. "I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you, Elvis. Okay?"

You panicked when you felt one of his arms pulling from your grasp, so you held him closer, pressing your face against his back.

"Why’re ya cryin’?" he asked, voice emotionless as he felt your wet tears bleed through his shirt.

"Because I’m so happy," you lied. Lied straight through your teeth.

You loved him, cared about him, but you were terrified and had no one to turn to. Everyone had either checked out or were content turning a blind eye to his increasingly troubling behavior. You supposed you played some role in letting things come to this.

Had you really been so engrossed in the glamour and chaos of it all to not notice? Whenever the topic of relationships came up, you’d joke that you were married to your job. Thinking about it more deeply, perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that your job was an all-consuming entity which overtook your life. You’d lost touch with your LA friends, mostly socializing with Elvis’ supporting band, backup singers and the Memphis Mafia. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to your family besides a quick phone conversation, and spending holidays at Graceland became a given. Your whole life revolved around him.

When you felt Elvis’ hand over yours, you resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, you relaxed your arms, allowing him to turn around and take your face in his hands. He wiped away your still-flowing tears with his thumbs.

"I knew you’d make the right choice, baby. You’re always so good to me," he said, his delusional joy evident on his face.

You nodded, hiccuping as you tried not to hyperventilate. You were trapped. Trapped like he was. He knew how horrible it felt, and yet he dragged you down with him. Misery loves company.

“I’m gonna call the hotel manager, let ‘em know to bring your stuff from your room up here,” he said.

“Okay,” you whispered. “That sounds great.”

The next few hours were a whirlwind as you watched your life being brought up, piece by piece in his–now your–suite. He went on about the wedding, and you silently wondered when he’d even have the time in his busy schedule. Your eyes drifted to the glass case that had just become the bane of your existence. Shotgun. It’d probably be quick, devoid of any ritual or intimacy; a witness, two signatures and a ceremonial kiss. That was all you’d get.

Later that night, when Elvis had his next show, you stood off to the side of the stage, as usual. He was captivating as ever, and you hated that you still smiled when he sang your favorite songs and cracked jokes to the audience. He had the charisma to match his looks, and you mourned the dream man you had crafted in your mind before his true colors came into view.

“Now, before I leave tonight, there’s someone I want y’all to meet. She’s real special to me,” he began.

You felt like you were going to throw up. He wouldn’t. He never brought Priscilla on stage, and would only mention her during the shows she was actually present at. Then, to your horror he did just that, calling you by name and waving you to join him on stage with him. Frozen in shock, you stood firmly in your spot side stage, not missing the glare he shot you when it seemed like you were taking too long.

“Go on, girl!” one of the stagehands urged you with an oblivious smile.

You walked onto the stage, feeling dizzy and then dizzier. Hundreds of people’s eyes were on you, but none of them felt like they were piercing your soul like his were. You didn’t know what to expect from this new power play until Elvis got down on one knee, presenting you with a glittering diamond ring.

“Y/N, darlin’, will you be my wife?” he asked, with a lovestruck sincerity that almost made you say ‘yes’ without hesitation.

Still, you looked out to the crowd, hoping at least one of them would sense your discomfort. Instead, they broke out into taunting laughter when he said, “She’s just got a little stage fright.”

That was it. Say ‘no’ and look like a bitch while still having to marry him, or say ‘yes’ in front of hundreds of people, effectively killing any chance at arguing that he made you do it. Eyes watering, for the second time that day, you agreed to marry him. The crowd erupted in applause, and he kissed you, passionately like you’d always wanted. Like he really loved you. You almost fell for that act too, until he pulled you close, his lips barely brushing your ear.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he whispered, echoing the words of reassurance you had told him just a few days before.

With that, you collapsed in his arms, blissfully unaware of the still roaring crowd and pleased smirk that had spread across his face.

#elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis #yandere elvis

1K notes · View notes

sofasoap · 11 months

Text

Presents

Pairing : John Price x f!reader. (Reader is medic , call sign : Chameleon )

Summary: 141 boys getting their early presents. Including a very surprised one for Price himself. Slight crack-ish fun :) not beta'd.

This is part of the “Mini” MacTavish universe, but the reader isn’t “ Mini”. Continuation of Little secret series. Thanks for @captainpriceslover for her inspiration for the fic Trinkets, this is kind of continuation from that fic too.

“masterlist” for prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“.... What’s in these boxes Captain? New gadgets for the mission?” Soap stared at the boxes his Captain sat down on the desk.

“Christmas Presents.” Price grumbled. He pushed one box each in front of Soap and Gaz, two towards Ghost.

Soap frowned. “It’s only October. Not even time for Christmas shopping yet.” he lifted the box up, trying to rattle it. “Jesus hell, it's a bit heavy.”

“Hum. Mine is a bit lighter, and sounds like there are things rolling around..” Gaz mumbled.

“Blame my wife. She insisted you boys have the presents early as we wouldn’t be around for the festive season.”

Price loves his wife. He tried to keep her a secret as long as possible but the big gossiper of Ghost “accidently” let it slip about her existence and cue the two nosy boys immediately went and hunted her down in the infirmary. He was actually quite surprised as smart as Gaz and Soap are, it took them this long to catch on, even seeing you and their child during Simon’s wedding.

Gaz and soap peeked into the infirmary, currently void of any patient, and saw you sitting in the corner, sipping on a cup of coffee while shuffling through patient notes.

Hearing the creak of the door, you saw the two men trying to push each other into the room. “Hello, I see you two have found me.” Chuckling as you wave at them to come and take a seat as you push your laptop and paper works aside. “What can I do for you? Did my husband send you two out to drag me out from here?”

“We just want to see the person who beated some sense into our Captain.” Gaz elbowed Soap as he blurted out. Two of them proceeded to bombard you with all sorts of questions. How did you two meet? Who asks who out? How old is the kid? You patiently answered all their questions, trying to satisfy their curiosity. You two “officially”met during the Amsterdam mission, Price asked you out (surprisingly), little Kyle is turning ten soon, a football fanatic just like his father.

Everything slowly became clearer to Gaz, the amused smile his Captain showed, when he introduced himself during the Piccadilly.

The occasional sad smile when his Captain checks his private phone during their long mission away.

The eagerness when they unexpectedly complete the mission and get to return back to the UK early.

He was eager to return to his family. To you and his young son.

Three of them had a good chatting session afterward. They found out you have been in the SAS longer than both of them, they are really surprised they haven’t really noticed you around, even with the amount of times the men have been in and out of the infirmary or on mission.

“Remember what my call sign is? Chameleon. I am very good at blending in,unnoticed.” She explained with a little smile.

You seem to be a very quiet but determined person. Gaz and Soap can see the resemblance in personality in both of you and Price. No wonder Price has fallen for you. He thought. Someone who is just a workaholic but devoted to each other.

Ghost’s brow went up a bit when he opened his box, Gaz looked over, a skull shaped soap dispenser?? And two little cute animal soap dispensers in there.

“She meant to give that to you when we moved.” Price shrugged as he lit up a cigar, a smirk on his face. “The other box is for Mini. Those two little dispensers are for Tiny and Aileen.”

“WHY IS THIS BOX FULL OF SOAP?” Soap cried, he sniffed himself. “Do I stink? Is she trying to say I stink? Oh Gosh Emma never told me I stink…”

Gaz opened up the lid of the box, in there he found a few fancy looking hand-made soaps,

“Soap… I got a few blocks of it too, don't worry. Seems she thinks both of us stink equally.” Gaz laughed. Underneath the blocks of soap, he also found a new set of knitting needles, crochet hooks and different colour yarns, You remembered, to Gaz’s surprise, during that initial conversation he mentioned to you his side hobbies are knitting and crocheting, crafty skill he learnt from his grandmother, which he found soothing and meditative to get his mind away from the bloodshed. Pulling out the yarns, he noticed right at the bottom there is also a little booklet of patterns for …. Baby clothes?

Gaz frowned. He’s not expecting any babies. He doesn’t even have a partner! What are you trying….OH.

Turning towards Price. “.... are you two expecting?” He asked.

Turning his head away from watching Soap’s self-wallowing and Ghost quietly happy with his little gag present, Price slowly turned and looked at Gaz, he could see confusion in his Captain’s eyes.

“ What made you say that?”

Gaz holds up the book.

“..... are you not telling me something Gaz?” Price’s eyes narrowed, throwing the question back at him.

“Captain, you know I definitely don’t have anyone in my life at the moment. And I DEFINITELY did not knock anyone up.”

Price went all quiet. Gaz could see him trying to process the information.

All of sudden, he stood up, startling all three of them and marched out of the office, towards the infirmary.

“....what is going on?” Soap looked at Gaz, and back to Ghost.

“ I think he just got a pleasant surprise gift himself too.”

Moments later, they could hear your scream,followed by you insisting your husband to put you back down, to everyone’s jaw dropping and stares as Price bridal carried you out of the infirmary, along the corridor, heading towards the front gate, trying to get you home to rest.

The day the whole barrack finally realised Captain John Price and you are actually married to each other.

Sorry @captainpriceslover, as with all my stories, it takes turn unexpectly as I write them :P

@tapioca-marzipan @floral-force (mutton chop no. 6 :) )

#call of duty #captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #crack fic

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