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tonixe · 5 months

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I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper

⤑ GRIM REAPER

A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.

WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.

PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.5k

Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.

When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.

Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.

You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.

From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.

His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.

You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.

The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.

You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.

"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.

"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor

Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.

Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.

But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.

Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.

Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.

You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.

You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.

Days passed,

He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.

"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.

"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.

A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,

You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.

"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.

Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.

When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.

You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.

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jakesangel · 8 days

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'studying' w jake -requested

tw// make out, suggestive, it's just kisses

jake is a sweethear. he is always willing to help others and never failed to make other's lives easier. and that only got intensified when you came around. you don't even need to voice your needs, jake would always be there for you. but once he is looking too munch at you, his pretty baby, his boyfriend duties will stop. so studying with jake always goes the same : he will help you w your homeworks then lose himself in you and finally he would try to steal your attention, and, obviously he always succeed, ending up to kiss you.

he was so happy when you texted him expressing your dismay towards ur physics studies, and he would come to your rescue, wanting to help you. and as he always wants to be with you and is always willing to be good for you, he would arrive, full of excitement, imaginary tail waving, hi baby, thank you for calling me, he would say giving you a quick peck before entering your apartment. he would sit next to youur stationary on your desk, waiting for you to sit.

as he started to help/teach you your studies, he was really focus on your understanding and your upcoming exams, but as times passed by, and seeing your pretty focused face, he couldn't help but be pulled by you. he couldn't care less about whatever you guys were doing, he just wanted his attention to be on you n yours on him. so he would give u a hard problem so that he can taste the waters, knowing if it possible to steal you from your studies and so he can stare at you. the sight of seeing you being so hardworking, understanding so fast n so well that you can do a whole new exercice, is so hot to him. your furrowed eyebrows and your pickered soft lips, would make him so dizzy. but the worst for him would be you playing around with your pen, putting it near your lips, a motion that display your focus. that single movement turn something in him and he wouldn't wait anymore time.

as you finished your exercise, you'd show the paper to him w happy words coming from your mouth. he wouldn't listen to you nor look away from your lips, them being hypnotizing to his weak mind. his body works in automatic, only needing you, taking the paper away from your hands. i'm so proud of you, baby he murmur sensually, i knew you could do it, my smart smart girl, he would add, then taking your now free hand forcefully leading you on his lap. you could try to protest, telling him he only came to help you study but he'd show you your well done exercice back, so for what reason would he let you off ? can i get a kiss from my smart pretty girl ?ᩚ just one and i'll let you finish, i promise, he'd say smile shamelessly lying, before leaning it with a slow kiss. he'd have his hands on your waist, keeping himself steady from. during your small makeout w him he would talk you thru it you're so hot when you focus do you know that, baby ? or my smart little princess. after showering you with kisses and hot words, he'd stop mid make out, successfully getting your attention. of course it hasn't enough for him but he wants you to want him, so he would give you another problem, not even caring about your current state, you still facing him. go ahead baby, you still have your exam soon, we can't have you taking too munch break umh ? he would tease you, putting s stray if your hair behind your ear. you obsviouky cant focus anymore, feeling his body underneath you n his hands still strocking you in allthe places he wants. he knows what he is doing and if he is rralky in a teasing mood he would kiss your neck. can't do the exercice baby ? is something bothering you ?, you we're doing so well earlier, what happened ? he would say w faux honnesty. he knows he wons you over your studies and will have you as he wishes.

if he isn't in the teasing mood and is just bored, he wouldn't let it pass too, finding that you've studied enough. baby could we cuddle ? he would bluntly ask not caring after ur successful attempt on doing his exercise. if you say no, n that you still need to study, tho you don't, he would just stare at you, giving you his puppy eyes paired w his adorable pout. that would only last minutes, his patience running low n his needs running high, before he'd ask you again please baby, you don't need to study anymore, his head hanging low on your shoulder, you're puppy is missing you words shining of neediness. if u can hankde his puppy eyes or his whines, he would level up, his face coming further into your neck, finally strating to take what he wants. please my love, i miss you, he murmurs, his hot breath hitting the crook if ur nap. he would also staring kissing you there, his hand softly stroking your arm reaching your hand. and finally, when he realizes you're not fighting against his temptation by letting him removing the pen in your hand, he would make you look at him, haven't i been good to you for you to just cuddle me ?

notes : hi anon i hope that you enjoyed it >< i feel like jake is makeout kinda guys, specailly when he thinks youre pretty i hope it wasn't too munch for u as ive never written them before,,, i made the second part in case it is for u <3 please lemme kno what you think in the inbox >___<

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeheeswifey @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll

#enhablr #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake soft hours #sim jake #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim smut #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #enhypen jake fluff #jaeyun imagines #jake sim x y/n #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Pregnant II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille's pregnancy

During the first month, you're about the size of a poppy seed.

Pernille's fine on her own during this period. She has a little bit of spotting and feels a bit more tired than usual but she's mainly okay. Since the announcement, her teammates have been more careful on the pitch with her.

Everyone knows that the risk of miscarrying is higher before the third month so they all take care not to knock into her as much or, at least, to not hit her head on.

Magda, it seems, is the only one completely stressed out of her mind. She sends regular texts to check in with Pernille. She calls every day (once in the morning and once in the evening).

If she didn't have commitments in England then Pernille's sure that Magda would have flown over daily.

By the second month, you're the size of a kidney bean.

The symptoms have gotten a little worse by now. The tiredness has been replaced by sore breasts and the spotting by morning sickness. It's still manageable and Pernille doesn't even think to tell Magda until she misses a morning call in favour of hunching over the toilet and spewing out her guts.

"Her heart's developing now," Magda's voice comes through the phone, echoing around the tiled walls of Pernille's bathroom," And her brain too. Do you think she'll be smart? I think she'll be smart."

"We don't know if it's a girl yet, Magda," Pernille says. She's still leaning against the toilet but Magda's voice is safe and soothing.

"I know it's a girl," Magda replies, an air of finality in her tone," A little Pernille."

"She's your egg. She'll be a little Magda."

Pernille can hear the smile in Magda's voice as she replies," I made you admit she's a girl."

At the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime.

The morning sickness is extremely bad now and Magda even flies out when she hears from Nilla that Pernille had thrown up on the side of the pitch one morning.

"This brings back memories," Magda quips as she holds Pernille's hair back.

"Of what?"

"Crazy parties in our youth."

"We're still young, Magda. Becoming parents doesn't automatically make us old," Pernille sits up and takes the washcloth from her partner.

"Yeah, but we're more mature now. No more crazy parties and throwing up."

"None recently," Pernille corrects. She smiles for a moment before hunching over the toilet bowl again.

Magda rubs her back. "I've taken a few weeks off," She says," You keep getting sick."

"Magda-"

"No, I've already made my decision. International break is soon anyway. Our next match isn't too difficult. They don't really need me."

Pernille can't find it in herself to argue about it much, with the way that she sags against the wall and stays within arm's length of the toilet.

Magda kisses her stomach. "You're making your Momma sick," She says," You've got to leave her alone. You're still growing in there."

At month four, you're around the size of an avocado.

The morning sickness has stopped completely now but the soreness in her breasts doesn't subside at all.

It's completely coincidental when, one evening as she's changing her shirt, Pernille catches the sight of herself in the mirror.

She's got a baby bump now.

Instantly, her hand goes to touch it, as if she could feel exactly where you are.

She takes a picture and sends it to Magda.

She can see that it's been read but Magda doesn't reply for hours until finally...

MAGDA ❤️ you look so beautiful that's my new lockscreen

It's month five. You're the same length as a banana.

She could have found out earlier but Pernille waits until Magda can make the trip to find out your gender.

"A girl." Magda is still convinced as they sit in the waiting room, her hand stroking over Pernille's knuckles. "I know she's a girl."

"We'll see."

Pernille feels a bit vindictive so has the doctor write your gender on a scrap of paper, folds it up and hands it to Frido (who has come to visit).

"Huh?" Frido says as she looks down at the scunched-up ball of paper.

"You're in charge of that," Pernille says," Magda doesn't see it, she doesn't take it before the gender reveal."

"You guys are planning a gender reveal?"

Pernille shakes her head. "No. You are."

By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.

You move around a lot now and Pernille never forgets the look on Magda's face when, one evening, Pernille grasps her hand and places it over her swollen stomach.

You kick almost every day and Pernille rubs her stomach softly as Frido hands her and Magda a knife.

"I bought cake," Frido proclaims," Because this is a celebration and you can't go wrong with cake."

Someone (Pernille's not sure who) on the Wolfsburg team rolls it out.

"If it's blue, it's a boy. If it's pink, it's a girl," Frido explains even though it really didn't need explaining. She's taking her role as future moster very seriously and it's slightly amusing.

"It'll be pink," Magda says," I know it will."

Frido rolls her eyes. "Then cut it. But...just wait until the camera's on. Okay! Ready? Ready!"

Magda's hand is warm around Pernille's, who is holding the knife in her own. They make two cuts into the cake, one after the other, and then pull out the slice.

"A girl," Pernille says softly, smiling as her team celebrates around her. She looks up at Magda, whose eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

"A girl."

Month seven and the only thing different is now you're the size of a large aubergine.

Her doctor has said that you can hear now so she spends countless nights with a pair of headphones on her stomach, playing voice notes Magda has sent throughout the day for you.

It's amusing. They're mostly nonsense, Magda just talking about her day and all the things she looks forward to doing with you but it's incredibly sweet and Pernille ends up crying every time.

Month eight comes around and now you're the same size as a cabbage.

Pernille's back aches more than ever and you enjoy sitting on her bladder so she has to take a bathroom break more often.

The highlight of the month comes when Magda comes over and lifts her bump, allowing Pernille to sag against her and feel slightly weightless for a little bit.

At month nine, you're the same as a head of lettuce.

She and Magda have been arguing over names for months now. There's a list pinned to the fridge and each of them takes a lot of pride in crossing out the other's suggestions in healthy competition.

Your last name is still up for debate too, as is your middle (but, somehow, Frido's gotten in on that action and has been texting Pernille suggestions for weeks now).

Pernille's having trouble getting to sleep too and you get more active than before. Rather than kicking though, it's your little fists thumping against her stomach (something that, many years in the future, she will tell Zećira was you foreshadowing).

Her doctor told her it was normal but it's still a bit disconcerting to see the tiny imprints of your even tinier fingers poking from the inside out.

By month ten (and Pernille hates that she's been lied to and pregnancy does not, in fact, end in the ninth month), you're the same size as a pumpkin.

She feels ready to pop but restless at the same time.

Magda's meant to be flying out later today but Pernille is in desperate need of some fresh air so she pulls on some clothes and gets herself ready to head to the Wolfsburg grounds.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 2 months

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✫彡𝑴𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒙𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆ミ★

✧ 𝑵𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✧ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚~ 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝑫𝑨 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒅, 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅.

✧ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔~ 𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕/𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒃𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕, 𝒍𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚<3

✧ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔~ “𝑰𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒓“ - “𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒌“, “𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆“ - “𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅“, “𝑺𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒆, 𝑴𝒂’𝒚𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊̀𝒑“ - 𝒀𝒆𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆? ,

You and your party were taking out ships left and right, yipping and cheering whenever they successfully came crashing to the ground.

There was one ship in particular though, the one that lead all of the other ones, so of course it was bigger than all of the over ships you took down.

You could do it, you know you could do it. You know you’re capable of showing the sky people that they fucked with the wrong clan.

So you did.

You flew around the ship, searching for its weak spot. And once you did, you loaded up your bow and fired right at it. But it wasn’t enough.

Without thinking, you jump onto the ship, telling your ikran to stay close to you, but also stay hidden. Once you get onto the ship, you take out all of the soldiers who were firing the guns on top of the ship, robbing them of their grenades and weapons.

After the area is clear, you take the pins out of the grenades and throw them into the engines and into the broken window of the ship, leaping off of the ship once your job is done.

That’s when a feeling of panic rushes through your mate, neteyam. Automatically looking in your direction to see you falling mid-air, instinctively making him drop everything to catch you before you hit the ground. “Y/N!!” He calls, but the loudness of the raid around you being too loud for you to catch onto it.

Right as he calls for you though, he hears your call for you ikran, and seconds later he sees that you’ve safely (for the most part) made it through. A wave of relief hits him, but also anger.

How could you be so reckless? What were you thinking? What if your ikran didn’t come for you? What if-

“Bro! Come on! We’ve gotta go!” Lo’ak shouts, snapping neteyam back to reality.

Oh were you going to get an ear full once neteyam had you.

✫彡ミ★

You and your party all dismount your ikrans, all checking on each other before going to check on everyone else. You walk around anxiously, nerves building the more you couldn’t find your mate.

But once you catch a glimpse of him, your ears perk up and tail sway excitedly, speed walking over to him to make sure he’s alright. Before you approach him though, lo’ak steps in front of you, hands up as if he was holding you away from Neteyam. “I’d be careful if I were you, tey is really pissed off right now and I’m almost positive you have something to do with it.” He warns, tone sarcastic yet serious. You turn your head to the side, confusion painting your features, “What are you talking about, Lo’ak?” All you get in response is a smart-ass, “Bro, really?” Which makes you stare at him, annoyance clear in your face. “Yes, really! What are you-“ “Y/n.” You freeze at the sound of Neteyams voice, knowing that he only sounds like that when he’s really pissed off about something. And the fact that you were what pissed him off made you feel like shit. Lo’ak gives you a look of sympathy before walking off to join kiri and spider. Leaving you to deal with your mate.

“Neteyam?..”you say tenderly,but he doesn’t answer. He just stares down at you with anger apparent in his face, tail swishing back in forth in irritation. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, he grabs your wrist firmly, tugging you into the direction of your shared hut.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Pulling some reckless shit like that? Do you realize what could’ve happened to you?” All of his questions were rhetorical and angry, but regardless you answered anyway. Knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Reckless? You wanna talk about half the shit you and lo’ak were doing? But when I do something that’ll benefit, our people, it’s a problem?” You retort, slamming your bow back on its stand and throwing your ionar on the wooden table.

“What me and lo’ak were doing doesn’t even compare to what you were doing! That shit you pulled was extremely dangerous and stupid. And why would you even think to do anything like that by yourself when you know your party is right behind you?” He shouts, taking off his own ionar and placing it on the same table you put yours on.

“Really, teyam? I’m more than capable of handling a mission by myself. Of course I appreciate that my party being there but I don’t need them to hold my hand through the whole raid. I’m not a fucking child!” You shout at your mate, officially pissed off because of his attitude.

“You sure as hell acted like one though!, why would you ever think of doing something like that? You could’ve been killed.” He uses his hands to punctuate each of his words, one of the signs that told you he was pissed off and serious about what he was talking about.

“But I wasn’t! Because I know what the fuck I’m doing!”you quip, ears pressed tightly to your skull and tail swishing angrily behind you. He just scoffed walking towards you to lift up your arm, revealing a deep gash from your bicep to your wrist, the sight makes you wince, the pain now hitting you quickly.

“Do you? Because if that was the case then this wouldn’t be here.” His tone is like a dagger in your heart, making you feel as if you’re a burden because of your choice. Your expression softens slightly, ears twitching with every breath he takes and tail swaying low to the ground.

He places your arm back to your side, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you to the bed and tilting his head towards it, silently ordering for you to sit down.

You obey quickly, wincing when the feathers of your loincloth rub against the cut. You watch neteyam walk over to the corner of your hut to grab the white first aid box that his dad gave him, along with a bunch of other medical supplies and salves, making you anxiously play with the thigh bracelet he made you.

He crouches down infront of you, opening his palm towards you gesturing for you to give him your arm, and willingly, you do.

He cleans the wound gently, even though he was still mad he still treated you like the most precious thing on pandora. It made your heart throb. Knowing that he loves you so unconditionally.

“Teyam..” you say softly, all you get in response is just a glance, one that told you to be careful with whatever you were going to say next. “I’m..i’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so reckless and make you worry about me. It was wrong of me to put myself in a position that I knew wasn’t safe, and I knew that would irritate you because I put my life on the line to save our people.” You admitted genuinely, tail swaying anxiously as you awaited his response.

He continued cleaning your wound, humming quietly in response to your apology as he reached into the kit to grab some gauze and a bandage. Your brows turned down and lips pouted outwards when you didn’t get a response from him, a shallow ache spreading across your chest as he still remained silent.

Unbeknownst to you though, he was holding back the urge to both continue yelling at you and hold you close to him while praising you for apologizing to him so quickly. He mumbled a quiet, “hold this,” as he placed your fingers over the gauze, reaching beside him to grab the bandage to start wrapping it around your arm.

While doing so he glanced at you slightly, taking in the almost sad puppy dog look on your face that made his heart twinge in a way that made him sigh softly, accepting the fact that he can’t stay silent forever.

“Yawne,” you’ve never been more happier to hear his voice, subconsciously sitting up straighter to listen to what he has to say, “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, but I swear to ewya if you do one more thing that endangers you or your safety, I’ll chain you to the bed so you can never leave this hut again. Understand?” His tone was stern and clear, yet you still giggled at the imagery of him literally chasing you down to chain you down to the bed like a wild animal. “Yes, sir,” you say with a teasing smirk, one that made him giggle quietly as he cupped the side of your face lovingly. Planting a much needed kiss on your plush lips before making his last final touches on your wound.

“Thank you, teyam, I appreciate it.” You added once he stepped away from you to place everything back into the first-aid kit, he turned his head toward you and said a soft “of course, babygirl,” in response as he walked over to the makeshift shelf to place the small box onto.

You sway your feet anxiously as you notice the slight hints of irritation in his body; tail swaying high and slowly, and his shoulders were slightly raised. Your hands placed themselves back onto your thigh bracelet as you watched him reorganize a couple of fallen things on the table norm gave you a while back. Nerves swirl through you as you mentally prepare yourself to ask him a simple question.

“Teyam..”

“Srane, Ma’ yawntutsyìp?”

You inhale deeply before looking down at your hands that were fiddling with the beads of your braclet, exhaling as you finally say, “are you still mad at me?..” you hated how needy and sheepish your voice sounded, but that was the least of your concerns right now.

His brows furrowed at the question; in both sadness because of your tone and confusion, because how could he ever stay mad at his girl?. “Babygirl, come here.” He beckons, making you almost immediately walk over to him.

He lifts you up by your waist swiftly and places you onto the table infront of him, standing in between your legs and cupping your face with his big hands. “I could never stay mad at you. Not even for a day I couldn’t. Even if I was, you know it’d talk to you immediately about it, right?” He questions, to which you respond with a quiet ‘yes’

“and you know I’d never, ever let you feel like you can’t talk to me about anything, right?”

“Mhm..”

“Good. I don’t want my girl to worry about little things like that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happen to me, and I’d never treat you as if you weren’t. I may get mad at you for the reckless things you do, but that anger is all from my concern for you and your safety. Nothing could ever compare to how severely I love and care for you, yawntutsìp.”

You nod in response to his words as tears of joy and sadness spill down your soft cheeks, the reassuring words being exactly what you needed to calm your nerves.“I love you so much, ma’teyam. So so much.” You mutter through your sniffles as you wrap your dainty hands around his wrist to kiss the inside of his hands.

A small giggle comes from him at the gesture, leaning in to kiss your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you too, babygirl,” to you before kissing your lips gingerly.

You hum in satisfaction when you feel his lips on yours, the sound of it making him laugh against your lips causing you do the same before he broke the kiss to pull you into necessary hug. Instinctively making you cling to his bulky frame as if he’d disappear the second you let go.

Without breaking the hug, he picks you up and walks over to the bed, laying down as gently as he could without pulling you off of him.

Once you both get comfortable, content purrs leave you both. “You have to admit though, it was pretty badass right?” You question, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before he answers, letting out a defeated, “yeah..yeah it was, babygirl.”

You chuckled softly at his response, letting a snarky “yeah, I know it was,” to fall from your mouth before letting the wave of sleep finally hit you. The sounds of your beloved mates steady, sleepy breathes lulling you into a deeper sleep.

𝑨/𝑵~ yet another fic that’s been sitting in my drafts for months😭 this is an idea I’ve had for a minute, so I hope you guys enjoy it!! After I’m done writing all my ideas for the avatar fandoms I’m gonna start posting more fics for the cod fandom (mostly the mw2 and mw3 side of the cod fandom) bc that’s what I have the most motivation to write for. So if you’d wanna be added to the taglist for that lmk! Stay safe and stay hydrated, babies. I love you guys endlessly.

𝑫𝒖𝒄𝒆𝒔🫶🏽,

𝑳𝒖𝒗𝒗4𝒋4𝒚𝒃𝒆11

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @tallulah477 , @hotdsworld , @plooto , @blue-slxt , @itchaboi-itchyboy , @xylianasblog , @etherial-moon-blog , @criticallybella , @professional-yapper , @rivatar , @aperiraa

(𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒎𝒌 𝒃𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕! 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 @ 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔💕)

#avatar #luvv4j4ybe11 #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfic #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #atwow neteyam #neteyam atwow fluff #neteyam x reader fluff

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daisybianca · 10 months

Text

pairing: max verstappen x femalereader

summary: you're max's rival, and you kind of want to spit into each other's face. one day, one of his confessions makes things a little more complicated and... hot.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

THERE WAS NOTHING quite like the thrill of competing in Formula One.

As a driver, it took skill, stamina, and a little bit of luck to come out on top.

Max Verstappen had all of that, and then some. He was ruthless on the track, and people called him "Mad Max" for good reason.

When he got behind the wheel, he seemed unstoppable.

But there was one driver who had the potential to take him down: you.

You were just as skilled as he was, and you bad the same hunger for success.

Every time you stepped on the track, you felt a rush, knowing that you were up against one of the best.

You pushed yourself harder than you ever had before, determined to come out on top.

You had always felt a mix of anger and respect towards him.

Recently, though, you just craved to encircle his neck with your palms and compress the air out of his throat until he is on the floor unconscious.

Mean? You were not.

He may seem kind from the screen, but if other people knew him in person, they would be of the very same belief as you.

It could be they way he ironically talked to you or that sometimes he mispronounced your name in purpose.

His teammates and friends didn't seem to hate him at all, and that was what concerned you.

Are you the only one that gets disgusted just at the presence of him?

One day, as you were scrolling on your phone in the garage, you feel a tall figure approach you.

"You know, you and I, we're not so different." He leaned closer and as soon as you heard his voice you couldn't help but roll you eyes in annoyance. "We both have that hunger, the need to win. I can see it in your eyes. It's what sets us apart from the rest of the grid."

He was good looking, you'd give him that. But every part of his personality stink.

You were not exaggerating.

You looked Max straight in the eye. "You're right, Max. And that's why I'm not going to hold back this time. I'm going to race you like never before." You turned away to leave, but were surely surprised when a hand grabbed your wrist.

Tight and hard.

So hard that when it left your skin, it ached.

"Stop torturing me, (y/n)." Max's eyes were dark blue as if a shadow had taken over now.

He was angry.

You had never seen him like that.

"Torturing you?" You flipped your hair and went to leave, trying to hide the pain on your flesh which was previously caused by his hand. "You're such a drama queen, Max."

"You know, that little, smart mouth of yours has to be kept shut at times." His word made you turn to face him again automatically. You felt your hair stand on your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a few ideas on how to keep it shut, though." He crossed his arms and leaned into the wall behind you. "If only you let me."

You had to breathe. But you couldn't. It was too much and you hated the way he made you feel. Just like how much you hated him.

"Bullshit." You cursed and went to leave again.

A hand grabbed you again. His grip wasn't that tight this time, but you didn't have much time to think about it anyway. Max slammed his lips on yours and all of your thoughts melted away at once.

He was so close and so... fuck.

"I don't want you to be just a rival to me, (y/n)." His words were barely a whisper as he stopped the kiss for a few moments only to look at you. His left hand cupped and caressed your cheek while the other found each way to your back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You had to answer, yet you had no answer. You just wanted him to lean in again and...

"Words, (y/n)."

The way he pronounced your name as if he owned it made you shiver.

"Tell me what you think." He said.

"Max, I..." You tried to detect the right words, but his lips on your sensitive neck made it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything else but him.

"Hmm...?" He buried his face in your neck and hair. "Fuck, you're so warm..."

"You have no idea." Your response was murmured.

"I bet you're more warmer somewhere else..." His lips found your chest, and he started making his way down your belly.

"Max." Your hands and legs were tremulous.

"Yes?" He looked at you.

"Can I ask for something?"

"Anything." He answered. "Except letting you win."

"That happens anyway, dummy." You teased.

His laugh was contagious. "Tell me, (y/n)."

"Please..." You murmured.

"Please, what, love?"

Your response was instant, even though you hated saying it out loud. You hated him. But you hated the way he made you feel more. "Please, fuck me."

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averydayss · 2 months

Text

Heaven Sent𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

she said don't get too attached but she attached to me

>>contents: in which Jake found out that his crush of 4 years, y/n wrote him a love letter

>>warnings: fluff, angst

>>now playing: Heaven Sent - Tevomxntana

Who wouldn't know of the one and only Sim Jaeyun? He is what most people would call a heartthrob, his angelic face paired with his beautiful voice and sweet personality would make anyone fold.

Jake is very popular in school, people would automatically look at him wherever he goes. Y/n was one of those people.

Y/n has been crushing on Jake for the past 2 years. Sure she is in the same grade as him, but she doubts Jake even knows her name. Besides shes too shy to talk to him whitout it being akward

Y/n had already made a love letter for him but she didn't want to give it to him, afraid that he would reject her which was probably going to be the case. He had so much pretty fans that send him love letters on a daily basis

It was after class, me and Winter was heading to the cafeteria to eat some food since we both didn't eat breakfast today.

"Hey isn't that Jake's group? The one being surrounded by girls right now" winter pointed to a small crowd of girls who seemingly was surrounding a group of boys

Y/n nodded and was seemingly suprised, sure she knew that him and his group of friends were popular but she didn't expect them to be THAT popular.

"Perhaps this is another sign that he will never like me" she said with her head resting on the table

"Noo don't say that, mabye he just doesn't like to show who he likes?" Said winter with a soft voice

"Really? I don't even know his ideal type, how am i supposed to make him even look at me?" Asked y/n

"Wait, your brother is in his friendgroup right? Can you pls ask him who Jake's ideal type is?" Asked y/n with a pleading voice

Winter shook her head "NO, besides what if my brother thinks that I like Jake instead? It would be too akward and traumatizing for me"

Y/n sighed "If you ask him I'll treat u mint choco for the next month". "REALLY?" asked Winter with an enthusiastic voice.

"Mhm, but you have to ask him and promise not to tell ur brother that i like Jake" said y/n. "Deal" winter said while holding up a pinky finger

The next day, y/n hurried to school to get information from Winter. "SO DID U GET ANY INFORMATION?" asked y/n enthusiasticly

"Duh, of course i did" said Winter. "THEN WHAT IS IT" asked y/n curiously

"My brother asked Jake whats his favorite color in a girl, he answered anything is good, he also asked jake whats his type and he said girls who are nice and also smart girls" answered Winter in a detailed way

"He likes smart girls? What's his next class? Mabye i can lend him my notes to make him think im smart" asked y/n

"If im not wrong him and my brother share the same class, if im not mistaken his next class is chemistry"

"Really? That's perfect then, i had chemistry before and i took some notes"

"Then you should give him ur notes before his next class starts" said winter after taking a bite of her lunch

"THANKSIES ur the best Winter i owe u a lot" said y/n. "Of course you do" said winter while rolling her eyes playfully.

Fortunately, y/n found Jake beside his locker whitout anyone else

"Heyy Jake, did you study for the chemistry test yet? If not i can lend u some of my notes" said y/n nervously while making a small smile

"Y/n? It's really rare seeing u talk to me, sure I'd love ur notes" said Jake while flashing his infamous smile who took u so much to not fold. With that you lent him Jakes notes

Chemistry class ended and y/ns notes was a big help for him. But he forgot to return y/ns notes after class and now he was stuck with her notebook

At home, Jake started studying, although he couldn't focus studying because of the way y/n smiled at him earlier, if only she knew how much he liked her

Jake has had a crush on y/n for the past 4 years, but Jake never started a conversation with her because she seems akward everytime he talks to her, and because of that he concluded that she simply didn't like to talk to him

It was kind of a bummer since everytime she talked to anybody else, y/n always has an energetic vibe and tone to it, very different than when she talked to him.

When he was stuck in a chemistry question, he remembered that there was a formula in y/ns note that would solve it

When he dug through his bag, he found y/ns pink notebook. When he was flipping through the pages a paper fell out. When he bent over to grab the notes, he froze.

In the note was a familiar name "To: Sim Jaeyun". He knew in a way that this was an invasion of privacy, although in his defense there was his name

"Hey, im Y/n from class 12B, you probably don't know me but I've had a crush on u for 2 years but I can't confess to you in person since it would be really akward. I love your smile and the way you treat others so kindly, its like your heaven sent. I know you probably don't feel the same way to me even though i hope you do but i wanted to get this feeling off my chest."

To: Sim jaeyun, From: y/n

Jake couldn't believe his eyes, his crush of 4 years liked him back all along? He felt like he was on cloud 9, smiling so much all night

The next day, Jake didn't even bother eating breakfast. He wanted to arrive to school as fast as possible to confront y/n about the letter and possibly confess to her too. There he saw y/n walking through the halls

"Hey y/n" Jake approached you while lightly tapping your shoulder. "Jake? Whats up?" Y/n said.

"Sorry i forgot to return your notebook yesterday, here it is" Jake said while lending your pink notebook to you

"I know this is probably an invasion of privacy but i saw your love letter to me"

"What do you mean?" Y/n asked confused. Whitout saying anything Jake pulled a familiar letter out of his pocket

You suddenly feel your face heat up. You remember writing that letter a year ago and you were planning to give him the letter on valentine's day. You didn't ended up doing that because you were to scared that he would reject you

So instead, you placed the letter in-between the pages of your notebook and you forgot to take it before you lent him your notebook

"About that, im sorry it's totally okay if you don't feel the sam-" before y/n could finish her sentence, she felt his lips pressing against her lips. He kissed you

When he finally pulled back, y/n was still in shock. "I like you too, y/n. For 4 years I've liked you" he said with a soft smile

Since that day, y/n and Jake became the schools favorite couple

💳: divider by @v6que. Other images are from pinterest, credits to all the owners

A/N: Feel free to request something xx

126 notes · View notes

merakiui · 5 months

Note

THIRTY ONE YEAR OLD VIRGIN RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS????? M-MERA I THINK I NUTTED JS NOW

LOL so did Riddle because he is not winning in the fight against his horny grip. <3 he has half a mind to practice safe sex even though there's the feral part of him that wants to throw logic out the window and go at it like an animal whenever you call him Dr. Rosehearts in that soft, sweet voice. It's cute that you look up to him because he's this uber-smart researcher and you automatically assume that means he knows everything. But he's so lost when it comes to sex because he looks at everything so clinically like a true scientist. T_T

Riddle: I grew out of my horny teen phase ages ago.

(Name): *exists*

Riddle: never mind.

Knowing Riddle, he probably never had much of a horny teen phase because it was always endless studying. He pushed it off and now it's caught up to him in his thirties. >:)

#twisted chit chat #i love him orz #his scientific lexicon is immaculate but his dirty talk is laughable #it's okay riddle you're doing your best

129 notes · View notes

zoeykallus · 9 months

Note

Hello there! May I ask for a big favor? Could you write about Tech, after THE FALL, you know? About how he survived, maybe badly hurt, and how Hemlock wants to experiment on him. But female reader is an assistant scientist or nurse working there, and they fall in love, and she frees him?

Aloha!

Sorry for the late (and very long) response! Okay, this is something I can get behind. Hold on, I got you.

Tech x Fem!Reader One-shot - AFTER THE FALL

Warnings: ANGST/Hurt/Injured Tech/Tension/Fluff/Comfort

______________________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

______________________

First, euphoria floods him as he is slowed down more or less gently by the branches of one of the huge trees. But then he hits a thicker branch that breaks several of his ribs. Tech can't breathe for a moment, falling further, he slows down as he continues to fall through a tangle of branches. He loses his helmet, the branches whip him in the face, leaving bloody bruises. Then he loses his goggles. His hands automatically shielding his face as best he can. He can barely see, but he knows the ground is getting closer. The impact is hard, not fatal thanks to the tree, but extremely painful nonetheless. His right shin breaks, the sound unnaturally loud, and the pain travels through his body like a lightning strike, sharp and violent. The impact on the broken ribs does the rest. At first, his breath catches and his voice gets stuck in his throat. But finally a scream comes across his lips, shortly followed by a groan, his breath heavy with pain. But not only pain, also panic is spreading. He is badly injured, defenseless, in the middle of a forest full of alien flora and fauna and the Imperials who will surely search for his corpse soon and if he was unlucky, they would find one too. Tech lost his weapons in the fall, his visual aid, helmet and probably a few other things. For a moment, he wishes he had just died quickly, cursing the tree that gave him false hope only to take it away.

His fingers feel for the com on his wrist, unsuccessfully. He pulls off his glove with his teeth to feel for it more effectively. His fingers slide to the com again. Broken. "Kriffin hells," Tech groans in pain. It doesn't matter that he's still alive, without a com, with his injuries, without his goggles, in the middle of nowhere, his chances of survival are practically non-existent. He can only see his surroundings dimly, blurred outlines, blurred colors. The pain is bad enough to make him nauseous. Tech tries to breathe against the pain and rummages blindly with his fingers in his remaining belt pouches for the emergency painkiller. Some of the pouches are torn from his belt, and the belt itself is also hanging by a thread. He finds what he is looking for, hastily injects himself in the leg. The drug works quickly, the pain slowly subsides. Tech allows himself to breathe for a moment. The pain may be temporarily relieved, but his situation has not changed. He is afraid, for the first time in his life he is really frightened. It's a more than uncomfortable feeling. He is alone, helpless, his brothers think he is dead. Tech feels the wind brush across his damp face, and he realizes he's crying. "Pull yourself together, Tech, you're a soldier, you're smart, you'll find a way out," he says to himself, trying desperately to believe his own words.

But he can hardly move despite painkillers, he doesn't even know where to go, can't see his surroundings properly. Tech tries to crawl, but he repeatedly has to give up and lie down. The hours pass and the painkiller begins to wear off. The pain slowly creeps back into his body, steadily, increasing. On impulse, he calls Hunter's name, the big brother who always bailed him out, even as a cadet. He knows no one can hear him, but it's a helpless, automatic impulse. At some point he begins to drift, he's not sure if he's just tired, if he's dying, or just passing out, Tech just knows that his senses are fading, little by little, slowly enveloping him in darkness.

Lights, echoing voices, the smell of disinfectants, are the first things that reach Tech's senses as he slowly regains consciousness. The ground on which he lies is cool, hard. He can't immediately make out the words being spoken around him, he only understands snatches of them. "... the wounds will heal.... much potential.... take good care of him.... this will be an interesting project" Slowly he feels parts of his body again. The pain is just dull now, like an echo. Tech feels sluggish and suspects that he has been given strong painkillers. It is relatively cool in the room, he feels that all his equipment has been taken from him. The fabric on his skin is not that of his blacks, he has been clothed. He blinks several times, noticing that his vision is clearer. Tech wants to feel his face to see what visual aid he has been given, but he cannot lift his arms, there is resistance. He has been strapped to the surface on which he is lying. A figure appears next to him, his gaze clears, and he looks into the face of a woman, he finds her pretty, and somehow she seems familiar to him, but he doesn't immediately know why.

A man's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"You are not to make small talk with the project, only inject the serum".

Startled, you look up and into the face of Doctor Hemlock. His blue eyes are cold, despite the implied smile on his lips.

"Do what I told you and run some scans, then I need you in my office".

"Yes, Doctor," you say quietly, opening the small case of injections.

Hemlock looks at Tech, their eyes meeting.

"We'll see if we can't improve you," he says to the restrained Tech.

"Enhance?" the latter asks in alarm.

"A serum used for genetic manipulation, it should theoretically unlock more hidden abilities," is the brief explanation he receives, "I'm not going to lie, this whole thing could get very uncomfortable, painful, but a seasoned soldier can take a beating, can't he?"

With those words, Hemlock turns away.

Tech watches Hemlock disappear again, then his gaze twitches back and forth between you and the small case.

"This is a dangerous experiment," Tech says quietly, his tone clearly resonating with his unease, "genetic manipulation is a delicate thing."

"I know," you say quietly, taking one of the injections from the case.

Tech begins to struggle against the restraints, whereupon two Stormtroopers he hadn't noticed before start to stir. You pause and say to the men, "He's strapped down, no danger of escape, and no danger to me. There are other, more dangerous projects you should be monitoring."

The men look at each other, finally one says, "Fine by me. But call us if he gives you any trouble"

You nod curtly and wait for the troopers to leave the room. Tech is still writhing in his restraints on the table, but can barely move a millimeter.

"Calm down, Tech," you say gently.

He sees you coming closer with the injection and his breathing quickens, panicked.

"Now listen to me carefully," you say seriously, "I've switched injections. This room is video monitored, but without audio. So try to keep a low profile"

Tech blinks several times. The tone in your voice, conspiratorial, serious but gentle. He's torn between hope, fear and doubt.

"I switched out the injections. This is just saline and some food coloring to make it look just like the serum. Nothing at all will happen to you from this injection."

Tech frowns critically and says stubbornly, "Why should I believe you?"

You sigh softly and say, "I know it doesn't inspire confidence that I'm working with Hemlock. I just want to take away your fear, you'll see that nothing will happen to you from the injections."

"If you really want to help me, free me," Tech says shakily.

" This is not something I can do so easily-"

"Then why should I believe that nonsense!" he interrupts you angrily.

You push up his sleeve, feeling his muscles tense. He is still squirming uselessly in the buckles with which he is tied to the stretcher.

"Be reasonable, Tech, you're too badly hurt to try to escape, the baccta will take a few hours before you can walk again without assistance. That being said, this facility is well secured. Lots of troopers, droids, alarm system, lockdown mechanisms. You wouldn't get far, we need a plan first. Crosshair and I have been working on it for a few days. I just hope I can fool Hemlock with the serum long enough to get it done."

Tech's eyes grow wide, "You talked to Crosshair?"

You nod and say, "Daily, since he got here."

"How is he?"

"Better than you at the moment, even though he provoked Hemlock several times in the beginning, and he was often disciplined"

"Disciplined?" asks Tech brightly.

"Torture by electric shocks. Hemlock calls that corrective education."

Tech grits his teeth, then looks at you questioningly, "So you're helping him too. Why are you helping us anyway?"

You put the needle in place and Tech flinches briefly as he feels the sting.

"Because what's happening here isn't right. There are a lot of disobedient clones here, clones who have defied orders and Order 66. You guys have been through more than enough already. At some point, this nightmare has to stop. I only came here with Hemlock because I thought we could make a difference for the clones. But I soon found out that Hemlock had other interests and missions. So at first I started to ease the circumstances for the patients as much as I could. And little by little I managed to trick Hemlock into replacing the serum and so on. But it's only a matter of time before he figures it out. The doctor is anything but stupid, at the moment he's just very busy, with many… projects, probably the only reason why he hasn't caught me yet."

Tech blinks several times. The injection is over; at the moment, he feels nothing.

"You're taking a big risk," he says quietly.

You nod nervously and say, "I know if I get caught there will be no punishment, only execution."

The days pass, Tech's wounds heal, and you regularly send messages back and forth between the two brothers. You secretly pass on plans and ideas. But something is missing. The guys need floor plans, accurate data on troop movements around the compound, and information on all security and surveillance systems.

Getting this information is damn dangerous for you, but still you do it, little by little, skillfully, using the access codes of other employees among others. For days on end, you're under a constant flow of adrenaline, always in danger of being discovered. But you've finally gathered everything that's needed, except weapons.

"I don't know how to get weapons, the medical staff doesn't have weapons, only the troopers, and they're unlikely to give me their weapons willingly, I'm not a fighter," you say dejectedly.

Crosshair growls softly, "I'll figure something out, you've already done more than enough".

You say quietly, "I've given Tech all the information, like I did you".

Crosshair wants to nod, but his head is strapped to the table as you give him the fake injection.

"Good," he mumbles softly.

His serious face softens a little when he sees your worried expression.

"Don't worry, it's up to me and Tech now. You did what you could. Maybe you should come with us."

You look at him in surprise.

"Come with you?"

Crosshair shows a barely noticeable smirk and says, "Yeah, sure. Tech would be very pleased. If I remember correctly, he had quite a crush on you back when you were working on Kamino."

You pause in your movement, surprised.

"What?"

Crosshair laughs softly, "Don't tell me you didn't notice. From the moment you started working in the infirmary, he regularly hurt himself on his tools or fell, which miraculously almost never happened to him before you showed up. I told him several times it would be easier to just ask for your com number, but our Tech was just too shy. He was very disappointed when you suddenly disappeared."

"I had been transferred to Coruscant, unfortunately," you say quietly, still intrigued, surprised, and flattered by the news. You liked Tech back then, too. He always told a lot of stories, he had whole stories to tell to every question you asked him.

Suddenly Crosshair's expression changes, his eyes shift to the right, looking behind you. You hear the typical sound of troopers in gear.

"Hemlock wants to see you, it's urgent," growls one of the two troopers who have entered the room. You turn around and see that both men have their weapons at the ready.

"But I'm still not-"

"Right now," the second interrupts you.

Panic rises in you, burning hot and freezing cold at the same time. He must have figured out what you were doing, you think nervously. Crosshair thinks the same thing and automatically braces himself against the restraints, whereupon one of the troopers smacks him in the forehead.

You sit in the chair opposite Hemlock, at his desk. The desk is so gigantic that you both seem quite small next to it. Behind him a huge panoramic window, forest, mountains and clouds can be seen.

You have your hands folded in your lap, nervously kneading your fingers.

Two troopers stand at the door in a guarded position. Hemlock in front of you is calm, he doesn't seem furiously angry as you expected. Not at all. He seems strangely composed, calm, collected. You are not sure what would have frightened you more. There was something strangely, ominously subliminal about this calm, something you couldn't directly grasp, but it was there. Like a monster waiting in ambush.

"I know what you've done," Hemlock says quietly, after an awkward, seemingly eternal period of silence.

"Doctor?" you ask cautiously, still clinging to the hope that you're here for different reasons than you think.

"Please don't insult my intelligence by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

You remain silent, not knowing what to say anyway.

After what feels like an eternity, you sigh, and somehow some of the tension that has clung to you for so long falls away.

You say indifferently, "I would say I'm sorry, but that would be a lie."

Hemlock laughs softly.

"I have to admit, you have more moxie in your bones than most troopers I know. You may not be a fighter in the usual sense, but girl, you have guts."

You blink, trying not to let on that you're confused at the moment and don't quite know where you stand.

Hemlock claps his hands a few times, making you frown critically.

"You need to use that grit more constructively!" he says, suddenly sounding excited.

You want to sound cool, to say something cheeky, to not mince words, but his demeanor elicits only a confused, "Huh?" from you.

"I know," Hemlock says indulgently, almost understanding, "You think you're doing something good here, for these men. But you're missing the big picture."

As he stands up and comes around the table, you automatically stand up as well, prompting the troopers to point their weapons at you, but Hemlock waves them off with a simple gesture and the men lower their weapons.

You back away a step as he walks toward you. Hemlock stops, reading your posture, your demeanor.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, I wasn't planning to hurt you," he says calmly and finally continues explaining, "Now this big picture I'm talking about is why we're all doing these projects. The reason why all these projects are necessary."

You shake your head and say, "Nothing justifies what is happening to these people here".

Hemlock raises his finger and corrects you, "Clones, my dear, clones, not people. Copies of a man, not even a particularly honorable one. Copies of a bounty hunter. But that's not the point. What I'm getting at is the big picture. The purpose of these experiments."

"Improved soldiers for the Empire"

Hemlock smiles.

"That's right, my dear, that's right. Better soldiers, for the protection of our Empire and all the people who live in it, for the protection of every single citizen. Yes, we are experiencing setbacks and some of the clones are suffering terrible agonies, but the end certainly justifies the means in this case"

You shake your head and say, "No it doesn't, it shouldn't."

Hemlock shrugs.

"Wait until your home world is attacked, and no adequate protection is in place, then I'm sure you'll think differently"

Hemlock walks slowly, leisurely up and down. His gait is supposed to make you think he is relaxed, sure of himself, but the fact that he is walking up and down at all already exposes his inner turmoil.

You watch him and finally ask, "Why so restless?"

Hemlock stops, turns back to you, and looks at you critically.

"I'm thinking about what to do with you. Basically, you sabotaged me and probably broke some other rules that I don't know about at the moment. Normally I wouldn't think twice about that, but you're a very good assistant, despite everything"

Your heart hammers nervously in your chest.

"So you won't have me executed?"

Hemlock clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"No. But I need to make sure you don't do something so reckless again".

Distracted by an unusual flying Omicron shuttle you see through the panoramic window, you say something absent-mindedly.

"And what do you have in mind, Doctor?"

Before he can discuss what exactly he means by that, the power goes out, for a few seconds, then the emergency power comes on and a shrill alarm sounds. A metal shield covers the huge window, blocking your view of the shuttle.

Hemlock seems tense. He tries to contact someone, but the com systems don't work. Your pulse is racing, nervousness, excitement. You know this can only be a sign that Tech and Crosshair are on the run. The Omicron shuttle, must be their brothers.

It's a satisfaction to see Hemlock panic, trying to make contact with his men, trying to grasp the situation, figure out what's going on. But then he spins around, furious, and he sees the smile on your face before you can hide it.

The doctor reaches into a drawer at his desk and pulls out a blaster from it, pointing it at you.

"You! This is your doing, this has something to do with you and those clones from the 99 batch!"

You blink, suddenly back in fear mode. You're relatively sure, that blaster in his hand, isn't set to stun.

The sound of a plasma cutter distracts you both. Someone is cutting through the metal guard and glass on the paned window.

"What the hell-"

With a clang and a thump, the material comes loose and falls into the room, directly behind it the ramp of a shuttle and an armed Tech in full gear. You barely have time to react, or say anything. Tech stuns Hemlock and the troopers with quick, well-aimed shots, deftly puts the weapons away again, and finally reaches out his hand to you.

"What are you waiting for? Come here!" he calls to you.

Your heart pounds in your throat as you grab his hand, and he gently pulls you toward him and into the shuttle, closing the ramp immediately after. He gently but firmly pushes you into a seat and straps you in.

"Hold on tight, we're not safe yet".

As if his words were the cue, the shuttle suddenly comes under fire and Tech rushes back into the cockpit. Crosshair sits at the gun, across from you sits a giant who grins kindly at you, next to him a clone who has almost more prosthetics than body parts on his body, also with a smile on his face.

The evasive maneuvers are violent, daring, you are jolted back and forth in your seat. You know Tech is at the wheel, and he's one hell of a pilot. Hell of a good one. Your hands are clutched to the seat, you're getting hot and cold, your pulse is racing. It's like the worst, gnarliest roller coaster ride of your life. Tossed back and forth in your seatbelt.

Then, finally, the shuttle settles into a steady position, and you hear the typical gentle noise of hyperspace.

Tech comes back out of the cockpit and looks at you.

"Are you all right? You look a little light-headed," he says with concern, and unbuckles your seatbelt.

You're dizzy and reality hasn't quite gotten through to you yet, but you finally nod and say, "Sure, I'm fine."

"I guess she's not used to combat maneuvers," the giant says with a laugh.

Crosshair, climbing out of the gun seat, laughs softly, still wearing the suit from Hemlock's facility.

"Tech's maneuvers take some getting used to," he says, winking at you.

Tech is indignant, "My maneuvers are extremely effective and have saved us several times, including today"

You slowly stand up, but your wobbly knees shake, and you practically fall towards him.

With a "Woah", he catches you, with his arms around your hips, your hands braced on his breastplate.

You look up and as your eyes meet, Tech's ears flush red.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks quietly.

In the background, Echo pushes the rest of the group into the cockpit to give you a small moment of privacy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair still trying to look around the corner, but a hand on his collar pulls him away.

You blink and look at Tech again.

You laugh softly, nervously, his arms around your middle releasing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. Almost automatically, your hands move to his shoulders.

"Sure, I'm fine. It's just like Crosshair said, I'm not used to this kind of flying. Impressive, I didn't think we'd escape."

Tech smirks flattered.

"Thank you for not leaving me behind," you say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, whereupon his ears turn even redder.

Tech blinks several times, then smiles nervously and says, "You didn't think we'd leave without you, did you?"

You grin at each other.

Still smirking, Tech says, "This time I'm not letting you go without asking for your com number."

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@starwarsnerd111

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squoosheez · 6 months

Text

Sweet Relief

Finnick Odair x Reader

summary: Yesterday, the reaping took place. Your name was the one picked from thousands—and it was your last year to even be eligible. Being from district four, your mentor is none other than Finnick Odair. Prince of the Capitol. Your relationship is off to a rocky start, but on your second night, he starts to come around.

setting: The 70th Hunger Games. You’re the female tribute from District 4, on your way to the Capitol with your male tribute, Caspian, and your mentor, Finnick Odair.

pairing: Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, mentions of death, implied mentions of forced prostitution but not blatantly mentioned ykwim?

notes: I wrote this in two sittings and it’s not proofread and it’s also my first time posting anything on tumblr soooo…

word count: 5.2k

— • — • — •— • — • — •— • — • — •— • — • — •— • —

socials: ao3 (that’s all I have bcuz my cc isn’t working rn 😭

Thick, humid air circulates through your enormous room. This was not what you expected when they had called your name for the reaping. You still remember it like it’s happening in the present. You find yourself laying on your memory foam bed with satin sheets—courtesy of the capitol. One thousand thoughts race through your mind as you recall the events of this evening.

To start, you almost punched your mentor in the face. You try to convince yourself he deserved it, but he was just trying to lighten up the situation and try to make you feel better. At dinner, he made a comment about the games. His words rang through your mind. “Even if you don’t win, just try not to be killed first.”

It makes your blood boil just thinking about it. You’re appalled by his insensitivity. You know those people aren’t any less smart or skilled as anyone else in that arena. Just because Finnick was the one to kill them off, doesn’t make them any weaker.

District four. Your home, family, friends, everyone you love is there. You can’t imagine not making it home to them. You also can’t believe this just had to be the last year you’re even eligible for the games. The worst luck ever. You groan as you pull the comforter over your body. One of the perks about being a tribute has got to be how well they treat you before you’re sent off to your death. You finally start to drift off into a semi-deep sleep—since real sleep is impossible—when you hear a soft knocking at your door.

You groan again before allowing the person into your room. You watch intently as the figure makes its way further and further towards your bed. You can only assume it’s an avox coming to give you a spa treatment or something else extravagant. But to your surprise, it’s your fatally charming mentor.

“What are you doing here, Finnick? Wanna piss me off some more?” You immediately bark out, not even giving him a chance to look into your eyes. This obviously makes him angry, you can see it on his face.

He bites his lip in frustration. “Listen here, little girl. You should try showing your mentor some respect for a change. I could be the very difference between life and death for you in that arena. I wouldn’t take that for granted if I were you,” his fake smile pierces through your blanket of security. He really knows how to make your spine shiver.

“Here to tell you that we’ll be arriving at 7am tomorrow morning. I suggest you be up and ready before then,” he continues. You watch as he takes a piece of fruit from your nightstand and bites into it. He gives another fake smile and walks out of your room, the automatic door sliding closed behind him. The sound of his voice makes your face grow hot in anger. It’s like everything he says is made to piss you off, but he had a good point. He’s the one who decides what gets sent out. He can help you live or let you die. Maybe you should try and get on his good side.

A good two hours fly by while you lay helplessly trying to grasp onto an ounce of sleep. It’s no use. You’re far too nervous to even close your eyes. The thought of losing everyone creeps into the back of your mind, but you deem the thought selfish. You’re not losing them, they’re losing you. More than they already have. Your mother and sister sitting at home wondering why it was you. Your best friends pondering what life will be like without you. It was your final year.

The good thing about coming from district four was that most oftenly, they were able to form alliances with the main careers, district one and two. Though, you deemed them to be quite arrogant, stuck up, obnoxious.. the list goes on. You were probably the only one in district four that doesn’t wanna prove they can win The Hunger Games.

The boy two doors down from you has been training his whole life for this moment. Technically, it’s illegal to train, but since when does anyone follow the rules when it comes to the games? The little boy whose name was picked at the reaping was only twelve. You thought that maybe they were related, but he just really wanted a chance to win. Foolish. The boy doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, you think.

When it comes to Finnick, he seems to favor you—which seems peculiar considering the fact you treat him like shit and the boy is nothing but pleasant towards him. You always assume he just acts that way towards the girls, he does seem to be a charmer. Capitol’s prince, some would call him. That warning he gave you earlier, was probably him genuinely trying to be helpful. You find that very hard to believe.

You turn on your side and click on the bedside lamp. The light brightens up the room more than a lamp probably should. The Capitol needs to stop sucking up to us, you think as you sit up and tread off to your bathroom. The bathroom is huge, a big shower that could fit any toiletries you could imagine. There’s a vanity full of makeup and hair products that you have never even seen before in your life. Red velvet robes that look incredibly soft and inviting. Last but not least, it smells of roses. The whole bathroom smells like you just walked into a florist.

You stretch and look at yourself in the huge wall mirror. You don’t look like yourself. Your features seem distorted and different. You know that you really do look the same, but you don’t feel like yourself. It’s definitely the Capitol. You turn on the water in the shower and wait for it to reach your desired temperature. You discard yourself of your clothes, realizing that you had never changed into your pajamas. When you finish undoing your hair and undressing, you step into the hot water.

Ten minutes pass and you’re rinsing some rose scented conditioner out of the ends of your hair. Everything here seems to be rose scented. Do we smell that bad? You laugh to yourself as you step out of the shower and grab onto a towel. You quickly dry off your body and hair, wrapping the towel around your hair and slipping into one of the velvet robes. Soft doesn’t even begin to describe it.

You open the door to your bedroom and begin to walk into it before you realize there’s a figure sitting on your bed. You assume it’s the boy from your district, probably couldn’t sleep either. Wants to talk strategy with you, pretend to be in love or helpless or siblings, or something even more ridiculous. To your surprise, it’s not the tribute boy at all. Quite the opposite.

You take a few steps closer, examining everything you can in the dark before you come to a conclusion. It’s Finnick. His golden-brown curls falling on his forehead paired with his sea green eyes, it’s obvious.

“What are you doing here?” You snarl, earning a laugh on his end.

“Well, you’re very welcoming,” Finnick says in return. He yawns and stretches before completely spreading himself out on your bed. “I went to check on your friend, Caspian, but he was dead asleep. Just thought I’d make sure you're sleeping.”

I knew he had a name. You roll your eyes and give Finnick an annoyed expression. “It’s impossible to sleep knowing I’m about to be sent off to my inevitable death.”

Finnick smiles. It makes you angry. He sits up to look you in the eyes. “It’s stuff like this that makes me think you really do have a chance. Definitely more than your friend down the hall, hate to say it.” He gives a fake disappointed look and it makes you chuckle to yourself.

“I’m not so sure about that,” you say. You slowly approach the bed and sit down beside Finnick despite how wrong it feels. Finnick rolls his eyes and grabs your hand.

“I think you have the drive. If you really wanted it—which you will in the arena—I definitely think you have a good chance of surviving. We’re district four. Make some allies, I know deep down you can push that cold heart and face of yours out of the way.” He gives your hand a squeeze of encouragement.

It makes you think. Just two hours ago you were sulking about losing everyone and everything, when in reality you don’t have to. You breathe out slowly, taking in everything Finnick said. He’s still there, staring at you with his green eyes. For once, his face doesn’t fill you with rage. His voice doesn’t infuriate you. He looks gentle. Compassionate. Charming. Finnick.

“Thanks,” is the only word you can mutter out. He looks at you with an endearing smile and kind eyes. You didn’t think he was capable of being nice. He looks actually sincere for once. Wow.

Finnick stands up and starts to make his way towards the door when your voice cuts through his action. “Finnick—” He turns around to face you, curiosity plastered on his face. He mumbles a quiet ‘hm?’ and you freeze. It’s like your words aren’t yours anymore.

“Will you stay?”

Finnick’s breath hitches in the back of his throat at your words. Immediately, you regret saying it. You want to hide underneath the comforter and never show your face to him ever again. Your face lights up a bright red, and you hope he doesn’t notice this.

A smirk creeps up on Finnick’s face. He doesn’t even give you a straight answer, he just climbs back into bed with you—which in most circumstances is very inappropriate for a mentor to do with a tribute. It’s fine, he’s only twenty.

Finnick wraps his arm around you, it's only then you remember you haven’t put on pajamas yet. You’re laying there in the robe from your bath, and your towel is still wrapped around your hair. You pull the towel off and let your still somewhat wet hair free to fall onto the sides of your face. Finnick looks over at you and gives your shoulder another squeeze of encouragement. Him and his squeezes of encouragement.

You reach around for the remote before finding it and turning on some show you’ve never seen before. In the districts, you only really get Capitol news. It’s definitely nice for a change. You and Finnick watch whatever drama is unfolding on the screen, holding each other as tightly as possibly.

“What’s it like?” You mutter out against Finnick’s shoulder. His head perks up as he registers what you said. He stays quiet, probably because you weren’t specific enough. “As a victor, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as if he doesn’t want to tell you. Like it’s some sort of bad news your parents tell you when you’re ten. “It’s not as great as I make it seem.”

Your eyebrows raise. He always makes it seem like he’s living the dream out here. Money, jewels, fame, glory. He has it all. What could possibly be bad about being a victor?

“I want you to win. I really do, and I think you’re very capable of doing so but..” his words catch in the back of his throat. “I don’t want you to go through what I did.”

His expression is cold. He’s not even looking at you anymore, his gaze is fixated on the screen, but you know he’s not watching. It’s like watching him hold back tears with no tears to hold back. This time you give his shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. This makes him smile softly and return his stare towards you.

“It’s wonderful.. now. I do have money and jewels, fame and glory. But nothing in life is free.” His smile fades, and he brushes a piece of your wet hair behind your ear. He is so good at keeping you oblivious. It’s frustrating.

He pulls you in closer, his grip on your shoulder tightens. Your breathing grows faster. You can hear his heart beating in his chest, and it makes yours beat even faster. His hand starts to move towards your hair. He runs his fingers through your slowly, making sure not to tug too hard. Just three hours ago, you could’ve sworn he hated your guts. What is wrong with him?

All you can do is look over at him. You realize he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t look away. The look in his eyes is something to fear, that’s for sure. He has to be zoning out.. But he’s not. He turns his body to face yours, resting his free hand on your side. You’re dumbfounded. Star struck, even. You open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. Finnick smiles and caresses your jaw with his thumb. This seems oddly intimate, and you have zero experience in being intimate.

You want to pull away. You think. You’re frozen, a slave to his touch. You want to move, but you don’t. His fingertips dance across your hips and jaw. You start to believe he’s playing a trick on you. He wants to see how far you’re willing to go. Well, you’re not a quitter. That’s for sure.

Instead of your typical surprised expression, your face morphs into a confident smirk. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, in fact it does. Before you can wipe it away, Finnick presses his lips eagerly against your own. His tongue runs over the drop of blood, tasting the metallic substance mixed with your saliva. Jesus Christ.

His hands pull your face even closer, along with your body. Your robe is becoming loose, you feel the knot slipping slowly. Your hands are entangled in his golden hair, your eyes are closed so tightly. All you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel.

This is definitely wrong on some level, but when he’s touching and kissing you in all the right places, it seems to not matter. His lips begin to move downward. He places soft kisses on your jaw and neck. Once he reaches your collarbones, the kisses get more intense. He starts sucking dark purple hickeys and leaving discreet teeth marks on your fragile skin. He’s eager, but careful. As if your body is a porcelain doll and he’s the only one allowed to hold it. He’s so gentle yet abrasive.

Your muscles tense as you feel his hands travel down your waist and resting on your hips. You know his intentions. He’s not just kissing you in your bed while practically laying on top of you for nothing. He looks up at you, his sea green eyes pleading for you.

“Can I take off your robe?” He says softly. His voice seems safe now. Not infuriating. You give him a nod, but it’s not good enough for him. “I need to hear a yes.”

“Yes,” you say. And with that, he unties your robe in one swift motion. The sides of the robe fall off onto each side of your body, completely revealing everything. Obviously, since you just got out of the shower, there was nothing else underneath. Finnick observes every inch of your body before continuing to attack your chest with kisses.

It makes you smile. He’s so eager to make you feel good, and it makes you forget how you hated him moments before this. You feel his tongue trace the shape of your breasts, slowly making its way to your nipples. You’re quickly reminded just how bare you really are when Finnick licks a stripe up your nipple, his teeth catching on the bud. Your body tenses, and a chill runs down your spine. His hands move to your lower back, making you arch for him. You notice his smile at your helplessness.

You squeeze your legs together in a desperate attempt for any sort of relief. Your mouth drapes open as Finnick continues to tease you. Kissing everywhere, touching everywhere except the place you desire it most. Back to frustrating. You pull his head up by his hair to look him in the eyes. You’re pretty much begging with the look you’re giving, but Finnick still doesn’t think it’s enough.

He places another gentle kiss on your upper thigh, leaving his tongue to linger slightly longer. “Is there something you want, honey?” His voice was condescending yet so sweet to hear.

His words make you squirm, but the grip he has on your hips prevents you from going very far. You attempt to speak but all that escapes is a strangled moan you didn’t know was lurking in your throat. Finnick chuckles against your abdomen, causing your muscles to tense up. You realize quickly that he’s not going to resume his work until you give him an answer.

You roll your eyes at him to hide your embarrassment, like usual. He knows exactly what you want him to do. He knows exactly where you want to be touched. He just wants to hear you say it. “I wanna feel you, Finnick.”

Not good enough. He immediately refutes your statement.

“What do you want to feel, baby?” He places another kiss on your inner thigh. You can feel the throbbing sensation between your legs grow even more prominent when he calls you ‘baby.’ You can’t even form words; he just laughs at your struggling attempt.

“What about..” he begins. His fingers trail down the sides of your waist and stop at your hips. His calloused hands move forward to the front of your thighs, giving them a squeeze for good measure. “My tongue? You seem to be enjoying that so far.”

Fuck yes.

You throw your head back at the proposal. You would be laughing like a maniac if it weren’t for your inability to form words, which once again is not going too great for you. Finnick awaits an answer and the only thing coming out of your mouth is drool and moans.

Luckily, he starts to ease up on you. His hands find their way to your knees, spreading your legs apart as far as you’ll allow him. You feel so exposed in the best way possible. Finnick continues to leave sweet kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you on and on. You physically cannot take it anymore.

You grab Finnick by his hair, once again, and yank him forward. “If you don’t eat me out right now, you may never get the chance to. I would make your choice wisely and quickly.”

His eyes widen at your words, clearly surprised, but not unhappy. His sly smile creeps back onto his face as he licks a stripe between your folds. Your back immediately arches against his tongue. He takes the opportunity to grab the back of your thighs, allowing himself full control of your position.

You don’t resist whatsoever. As soon as his tongue is back inside you, tracing circles around your clit, everything fades away. He flicks his tongue over the same spot and a sharp moan echoes through the room. You come to the conclusion that it’s from you. Finnick chuckles softly. The cool air against your wet heat just makes you feel like you’re floating. And if he can’t tell how much you’re enjoying this by your body’s reaction, he can tell by the look on your face.

Finnick’s tongue continues to work its magic as your hands flail around for something to hold onto it. They end up grabbing onto the pillow and you’re surprised the whole train car can’t hear how loud you’re being. You swear no one else could make you feel this way. His tongue knows exactly where to go and what to do. You feel his hand move closer to your heat and it drives you crazy. His thumb moves slowly towards your clit, rubbing soft circles on it. Meanwhile, his tongue is prodding at your entrance. A loud moan escapes your lips as you attempt to focus on one thing at a time.

“Finn..” you whimper out. He pulls away from in between your legs, a mixture of juices dripping down his chin. He looks up at you, his chest heaving. He looks so good. Something about him looking so fucked out just manages to turn you on. “You look so fucking hot.”

A smile creeps up on his face at your words. He licks his lips and climbs up to meet your face. He places a soft kiss on your lips as a ‘thank you.’ You smile back and take the opportunity to give the obvious bulge in his pants a gentle squeeze. A groan leaves Finnick’s mouth and his hand makes its way back down to your pussy. He slips a finger in between your lips, flicking it over your clit again. Now you’re even.

You squeeze your legs together, making the pressure ten times more intense. You let out a soft whimper that seems to just push Finnick over the edge. He immediately pulls down his grey sweats, revealing his erection underneath a pair of black boxer briefs. You don’t even have to look twice to determine that’s gonna hurt.

You sit up and cross your legs to be face to face with him. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair trying to determine what he wants to do next. His eyes flick back and forth between you and his dick before coming to a consensus.

“On your knees,” he smiles. You quickly scurry off the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You pull your hair into a tight ponytail and wetten your mouth, a smirk plastering your face. You allow him to pull down his boxers, his erection springing up towards his abdomen. The sight makes you ten times wetter.

You take Finnick’s cock into your hand, giving it a few strokes as beads of precum run down your hand. You can feel him throb in your hand and it makes you let out a small chuckle. He laughs too, not really understanding why.

You give the head a small kitten lick and watch as his face scrunches up in pleasure. You take the tip entirely into your mouth and Finnick lets out a loud groan. His hips begin to move slowly into your mouth. He makes sure not to go too fast or deep in case you can’t take it. You take at least two more inches to assure him you can.

You continue to bob your head up and down as his hips fuck the back of your throat. Whatever you can’t fit in your mouth, you stroke eagerly with the hand that’s not grabbing onto Finnick’s thigh.

Tears well up in your eyes and drool drips down your mouth as he fucks deeper into it. His little groans and whimpers are all the encouragement you need. You just sit back and let him have his way with you, every now and then you hum, sending the most pleasurable vibrations through his body.

You can feel his climax near when his hips start to stutter and his movements become faster and more desperate. You move your hands to rest on his chest, rolling his nipples in between your fingers. This throws him completely over the edge, because quickly after, he’s cumming down your throat. You take him out of your mouth and swallow what’s left of his cum before standing up to give him a sweaty, teary, drooly, cummy kiss. His tongue explores your mouth tasting what remains of his cum and you can see a string of your saliva when the kiss is over.

Despite your incredible blowjob skills, he’s still eager to make you feel as amazing as he possibly can. He moves his hands down to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. You giggle and fall back onto the bed. The satin sheets feel so good underneath your hot skin, and Finnick looks so inviting.

You close your eyes and suddenly he’s gone. You search around for a moment until realizing he’s gone to get condoms. Smart man. Not giving me a choice. When he comes back, he slips on the condom with ease and gives his hand a small squirt of lubricant.

“Don’t think I’ll need much,” he says smirking. “You’re already soaking wet for me. Yes?”

You feel yourself throb in between your legs at his words. He is seriously driving you insane. You watch as he coats his cock with the lubricant and gives himself a couple lazy strokes.

You can’t even think of a response, so instead you just pull him down to kiss you. After a few moments you break the kiss. “Finnick..”

“Don’t wear it out,” he speaks slowly. You just can’t take your eyes off of how big he is. “You’ll be screaming it in a minute.”

You smile at his cocky response. You feel him line-up with your entrance. One of your hands is resting on his bicep, the other is tracing circles on your clit. You let out a soft moan as you feel his tip slowly slipping into you. You don’t understand how he could be this slow. He wants this just as bad as you do, why is he being such a tease?

Instead of pushing deeper, Finnick decides to just use the tip for now. You’re squirming and writhing underneath him, desperate for something more. Every time you look at his face, he looks like he’s in heaven. Finally, he slowly slides more into you. You can feel every vein pulsating inside you. It makes you clench around him, which earns a very strong moan from Finnick’s mouth.

Your thoughts are being clouded with Finnick. Every touch he makes, every breath he breathes. Everything is Finnick. He’s murmuring something under his breath, but you have zero clue what. Probably something along the lines of ‘you’re so fucking hot,’ or ‘I’ve been waiting so long for this.’

You watch as beads of sweat drip off his forehead and onto your stomach. You realize very quickly why he wanted to take it slow. As soon as he tries to push completely into you, he bottoms out. You tense up, surprised by the feeling. Finnick looks at you and back down at his dick once again. By the look on his face, you can tell he is not all the way in.

“Fuck, Finnick. I didn’t realize you were that big!” You groan partially in frustration and partially in pleasure as he rolls his hips in a circular motion. He just smirks in response. Despite the little bump in the road, Finnick continues his shallow thrusts. He’s more careful now, he doesn't want to hurt you and now it’s become very easy to do so. You let out a loud whimper at his movements, angled to hit your g-spot with every little movement. Unfortunately for you, he’s still taking his sweet time.

He can sense your neediness. It’s driving him crazy. He starts to move slightly faster, but he’s still trying to savor the moment. Your back arches whenever he hits your sweet spot, which is pretty often. Your legs start to shake from using them to keep yourself up. Finnick notices and immediately pulls out and picks you up. This takes you by surprise and you flush a bright pink color.

“I wanna make sure you’re comfortable, how do you wanna lay?” His voice is soft and sweet. It’s crazy how fast his tone can switch between dominant and demanding to soft and caring.

You bite your lip and wrap your arms around his neck. “Can I ride you?”

That’s not the answer Finnick was expecting. He nods eagerly and flips the two of you around. Now he’s laying on the bed, and you're sitting on top of him. You line him up with your hole and sink down slowly onto him once again. Once he bottoms out, you start to move your hips in a circle. Finnick’s hands fly to your waist, guiding your movement. He watches as you ride him, tits bouncing directly in his face. He is surely the luckiest man alive.

His groans grow louder and more frequent, and your movements become faster and harder. His hands move to cup your ass, giving it a couple slaps as you bounce on his cock. You clench around him every time and it makes him so horny it hurts.

Finnick flips you over once more, wrapping your legs around his neck. His thrusts are much more powerful now. They’re aiming to hit your spot and it’s so good. His hands are fondling with your tits, pinching your nipples as his thrusts grow faster. His other hand is fixated on your clit, rubbing it just hard enough to make your back arch and leave scratch marks on Finnick’s biceps.

You can hear his breath faltering and his thrusts become sloppy. He’s whispering words to you, but you can’t quite comprehend exactly what he’s saying. Loud moans are leaving your mouth, but you can’t hear anything besides the slaps of your ass against Finnick’s hips, and his groans.

You feel his hand get faster, giving your clit just the right amount of attention it needs to feel your climax bubbling up in your lower stomach. You clench around him in response, and that’s what pushes him over the edge.

He pounds into you relentlessly, hitting your g-spot over and over again until you can’t take it. Your moans have become broken cries as tears flow from your eyes. The only words you can form are ‘Finnick’ and ‘faster.’ It doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach its peak. Your body tightens completely, causing Finnick to release with you. He cums with a loud moan, even though your senses are still clouded from seeing stars, you can assume it was probably a drawn out ‘fuck.’

You pull him closer as his body collapses into yours. You give him another kiss before pulling the used condom off of him and tossing it into the trash bin. He gives you a weak smile as he breathes in your scent.

“You were amazing,” he mumbles against the crook of your neck. You pull the comforter over the two of you and close your eyes.

“You were perfect,” you respond smiling. He gives you another kiss on the cheek since he can’t stand not having his lips on you. The reality of your situation sets in very quickly. You’re about to be in the Hunger Games and you’ve just accidentally fucked your mentor. Accidentally may be a stretch.

You look over at Finnick, somehow putting your emotions aside. You give him a sad smile and place a soft kiss directly onto his lips. It confuses him, but he doesn’t question it. You’re clearly in a vulnerable state and he doesn’t want to pry too much.

You look into his eyes for far too long. The beautiful sea-green color that completely encapsulates the beauty of the ocean. You realize far too late how you really feel about Finnick Odair. The worst part is…

The clock just struck seven.

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #the hunger games #finnick x y/n #finnick fanfic #fanfic #smut #thg finnick #alternate universe #light angst

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writtenjewels · 5 months

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I'll Wait

Jason wished he could bundle all the anger, hatred, fear and longing into a ball and shove it deep down. It was a skill he once had mastered. But then he fell down into Hell, and the shield that uses to protect him was cracked in half. He tried to reconstruct it but it was no use. It scared the hell out of him.

"Jason!" Salim's voice called to him. His gaze automatically locked onto the older man, who was waving him over.

He was the one responsible for Jason's turmoil. It only took a few hours for them to go from enemies to loyal partners. Jason tried not to think about the choices he made down in the catacombs. He moved to sit near Salim, desperately wishing he could lie enough times to believe he wasn't feeling these emotions.

"You look so different without your hat," Salim observed. "I wasn't expecting freckles."

Jason's eyes snapped up to Salim's face--big mistake. His insides squirmed and fluttered, his heart raced. His counter down there was to get angry, but he couldn't anymore. Not after everything he and Salim went through.

"They let you talk to Zain yet?"

"No." Salim let out a sigh.

"Want me to have a word with them?"

"That depends." Salim caught his eye, a teasing smile on his lips. "How civilized is this word?"

"I can be plenty civilized, smart-ass," Jason insisted, matching the smile. Their banter had a way of relaxing him. He felt a tug in his heart and almost let it pull him closer. Jason jerked away as if he'd been burned. "I'll go right now," he announced.

"Jason, wait." Salim reached for him and he froze. The man's expression was gentle, searching. "Talk to me," he coaxed.

Except Jason couldn't find the words. How could he explain what he was feeling? He denied this part of himself for so long Jason wasn't sure he could.

"Later," Jason said. "I gotta have some civilized words with those assholes first." Salim pursed his lips.

"All right," he conceded. "I'll wait." It felt like he put more meaning into those words. Like he knew exactly what Jason was fighting through.

#house of ashes #jason kolchek #salim othman #jason/salim #jalim #jason x salim #jason kolchek x salim othman

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sam24 · 5 months

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Minivans And Pawnshops

Summary: You were out on a mission for a week, and when Tony, your self-appointed overprotective bodyguard, notices your Greek god of a boyfriend acting weird, he makes it his personal duty to figure out why. By asking Steve what was going on? Hell no. By slipping a Stark Tracker on him and shoving 11 people into an 8-seater Honda Odyssey to follow him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

“Take a left.” Friday’s monotone voice rang out.

“Take a left here, Happy,” Tony instructed, looking up from the Stark Map on his phone.

Happy rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of I know, the robot already told me.

“This isn’t necessary, Tony,” You repeated for about the hundredth time. “Steve is not cheating on me.”

“My evidence says otherwise,” Tony urged Happy to drive faster, earning a grumble from the latter. “He’s acting very suspicious, always going out and coming back late every time.”

“Actually, I can vouch for Tony on that one,” Clint adds from his squished place in the last row of the mini-van, practically sitting in an annoyed Natasha’s lap. “He’s been acting pretty weird.”

“Doesn’t automatically mean that he’s cheating,” You defended. “He probably has other reasons.”

“Fine. Cheating or fight club. Which would you prefer?” Tony cocked his head at you, and you shoved it back.

“If he is bedding another woman, I will make sure he cannot bed any woman ever again!” Thor declared loudly into your ear, Wanda also wincing on the other side of him.

“You mean cut his dick off?” Sam piped in from the back, who was purposefully shoving into Bucky with every turn the car made.

“Um, indeed. I think so,” Thor shrugged. “I am not sure what I meant either.”

“Uh Mister Stark?” Peter turns around from the passenger seat that he was sharing with a very uncomfortable Bruce. “Did you really have to bring all of us? I have a lot of math homework to finish.”

Tony waved him off. “I have like 30 assistants back at the tower, kid. Someone will do it for you. Plus, all of us have to catch Rogers in the act and publicly shame him.”

You turned back to Tony, remembering what you both were initially arguing about after the ringing in your ear settled down. “You didn’t have to sneak a damn tracking device on him! You could have just asked what he was doing like a normal person.”

“Fuck being normal. At least be grateful that I waited for you until you came back from your mission to catch him red handed.” Tony smirked. “Or should I say cum handed.”

Everyone gagged.

“Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Vision frowned, basically underneath Wanda. “The semen technically would not be in the Captain’s hand, unless-”

“Vis, honey.” Wanda just shook her head.

“Plus, I already asked Cyborg over here.” Tony pointed to the back at Bucky, who was still glaring at Sam. “He went uhh, I don’t know and ran away,” Tony said in his best dumb jock voice.

“Nothing is going on, Tony.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Just turn the car around.”

“I agree with Barnes.” Natasha kicked Tony’s seat from the third row. “Turn around, Happy.”

Bucky looked past Sam and Clint, who were hitting each other’s knees with their own. “Steve told you too?” He asked in Russian with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha shook her head with a smirk. “No. I’m just smart like that.”

“Too late, buddy,” Tony ignored their secret conversation, flashing a fake smile over his shoulder. “Like the great John B once said, ‘We didn’t come this far to get this far’.”

Peter whipped around once again, his eyes lighting up at the quote. “Mister Stark, I’m really glad that you’re watching my TV show recommendations, but I’m pretty sure someone else said it before he did-”

“Happy, take another left here.” Tony called out, mimicking the AI who just said it seconds before.

You rolled your eyes, the red dot in the center of Brooklyn on the phone screen catching your attention. You had no reason to doubt Steve’s loyalty toward your relationship. He loved you and you loved him and you knew that he would never do anything to hurt you. But, you were curious as to why Steve was apparently acting weird while you were gone, and what the hell he was doing in Brooklyn.

“Trust me, Tone. He’s not cheating. I’ll just ask him when he comes back, it’s probably just some stuff he has to take care of.”

“C’mon guys,” Bucky pressed. “Let’s turn around. I need to pee or something.”

“Hm, sounds like you're in denial.” Tony said to you, ignoring Bucky once again. “Don’t worry, the next step will be coming soon. Anger,” Tony announced with a grin like it was some kind of flashy news headline.

“Tony, why the hell does it sound like you want my boyfriend to be cheating on me.”

“Aw come on, it’s not like that,” Tony gestured at Happy to take a right. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You rolled your eyes once again, rubbing your wrist, remembering the death grip Tony had on you earlier as he dragged you into the light blue Honda Odyssey packed tight of Avengers in the back of his garage. He was saving it for his future family, he had claimed when you asked why Tony Stark of all people owned a minivan.

“Stop!” Tony yelled, and Happy quickly stepped on the brake, sending everyone flying forward. You heard Bruce and Peter groaning in the front. “This is it. The big reveal,” he announced.

You immediately scooted ever closer to Tony as he pressed his forehead to the window.

“He’s having an affair with . . .” Tony paused with a frown, his sunglasses sliding down the slope of his nose. “The owner of Vintage Pawn Shop?”

Pawn shop? Didn't Steve say something about a pawn shop a while back?

Identical confused eyebrow furrows made their way onto everyone’s faces, except Bucky’s and Natasha’s, as you spotted your unmistakable 6 foot 2 super soldier through the glass littered with fingerprints.

He was describing something to the old lady working in the store, looking hopeful and tired, like he had been searching for it for days. She nodded and raised her finger in a one minute, honey type of way and started rummaging through some things behind the counter. She pulled out a small box from somewhere, opening it and gently placing it in front of Steve.

You squinted your eyes, accidentally shoving Tony’s head into the window of the car as you craned your neck closer, trying to read the woman’s lips.

She said something along the lines of This might be what you’re looking for, sweetie, and Steve’s eyes lit up, a clear wave of nostalgia crashing over him. With gentle calloused fingers, he lifted a ring out of the box, admiring it with a soft smile.

“Friday,” Tony called out, face still squished between you and the car window. “Connect to the store’s CCTV.”

Before you could ask since when the hell Friday could do that, the Stark Map with a You have arrived at your destination adorned on its screen quickly was replaced with the live footage from the store’s cameras.

“Did this belong to someone that you knew, honey?” The old woman’s kind voice grainily made its way through the speaker of Tony’s phone as she noticed Steve’s eyes glistening with tears.

Everyone tried to move closer to the phone for Steve’s reply in the overcrowded car. “Ow!” You heard Clint yell, probably at Sam. “That was my foot, dumbass!” He was immediately shushed.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, still smiling at the ring. “My ma’s.”

Multiple gasps were heard throughout the car, Happy’s being the loudest.

A weeks old, sleepy memory that was buried deep into your brain immediately flooded back.

You and Steve were wrapped around each other, your ear pressed to his heart, slowly lulling you to sleep with a familiar beat.

“Y’know, you remind me of my ma.” Steve randomly declared against your hair, and you peered up at him to meet the soft currents in his eyes. “Beautiful. Kind. Doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled, cupping your face to pull back and look at you. He stared lovingly at you for a while, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Everything okay?” You turned your head to kiss his palm. The last time he had looked at you for this long without talking, it was right before he burst into tears after you had almost died on a mission.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pulled you back into his chest, placing another kiss on your forehead. “She would’ve loved you.”

After a little bit of silence, he spoke again. “Her ring was beautiful.”

“Oh?” You hummed.

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, a slight Brooklyn accent slipping through as he talked slowly, his words laced with sleep. “Don’t know where it is, but I wanna find it for you. I’ll look through every pawn shop in the state. And when I find it I’ll propose when the time’s right under the stars and you’ll say yes because you’re just like my ma, and Ma loved me more than anything in the world.”

If Steve had brought up the topic of marrying you during the day when you were wide-awake, you probably would have had a stroke of happiness.

But right now, it was night.

It was night and you were half-asleep, wrapped up in Steve’s warm arms, feeling more at peace there than you ever had anywhere else.

Nothing but peace.

So you just drowsily grinned into his bare chest, your hand snaking up to rest on his cheek. “She loved you more than anything in the world, huh?” You repeated. “Well then I guess your Ma and I are pretty similar.”

You looked up from the screen and back at the window, staring at the ring in Steve’s hand with wide eyes. The sunlight bounced off of it and the jewel sparkled in the light with an elegant touch. Steve was right- it was absolutely gorgeous.

A smile crept onto your face, matching the one on Steve’s.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Tony’s voice interrupted your daze. “He’s gonna propose to the side chick!”

#marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #tony stark is dumb #but we still love him

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screaminglygay · 1 year

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third time is a charm, right? (part two)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff (in this part there is mostly natasha!)

summary: you finally work up the courage to call the phone number you got yesterday.

warnings: again some swearing

word count: 1k

an: heyy lovely people! thank youuuuu so much for all the support! it means truly a lot! 💕💕 i hope you will like this part as well! if there is anything special you´d like to read, let me know! 💕

(italica = your thoughts)

Should I call them? I mean they gave me their number for a reason. I should. I have to. I want to, but what should I say?

“Hi, it´s me your waitress! No. Hello, so I'm calling, because you gave me your number.” You let out a big sigh as you take your phone and look at the time.

10:27

You really spent over 40 minutes walking in your apartment back and forth, trying to figure out what you will say to the couple. Going to the kitchen for a cold glass of water seemed like a good idea for your brain to calm down. After almost drowning yourself, you picked up the phone one more time and dial the number from the business card. Before you clicked “call” you prayed to every single gay person you know to give you the strength of not being cringy.

It´s ringing. One time. Two times.

“I wondered when you're going to call, darling.” you heard the captivating rasp again. The voice of a goddess herself. Her raspy voice was such a unique melody to your ears, that it would easily make you do whatever she wants. At that moment you felt like you had the biggest privilege just from hearing her voice.

“You still there?” If you would listen little closer, you could definitely hear the smirk on the face of the lady on the other end of the call.

“Yes, yeah! Hi, hello! Um how did you know it is me?” you start to fidget with the ring on your finger. Even though you're completely alone, you're still trying to hide the fact that you're nervous. Mostly for yourself, fake it till you make it, right? But how can you? When you're on the line with one of the most attractive people in the entire universe.

“I gave you my personal number. I think that its way easier to get to know each other, don´t you think?” she let out a chuckle.

“Sure!” You put your ring back on your finger as you start to walk around the room.

Sure? Oh my god, there is hot woman on the phone and you say SURE?! Say something less cringy! Fuck, think!

“My name is (Y/N) by the way!” you quickly announced.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Such a pretty name, for such a pretty girl. I'm Natasha, but I think you already know that.” You're hearing the flirtatious spark in her voice that automatically sends shivers down to your stomach. You don’t even notice, but after that little compliment from her, you're smiling like a little girl and your cheeks turn red faster than popping champagne at a bar.

“Thanks...” you let out a small giggle, that were caught on the other side. “I uh I did kinda figured it out your names.” a little proud smile on your face could have been seen if the woman was in the same room as you.

“Not just pretty, but also smart, how perfect.” she thinks out loud.

Gosh this flirting is not good for my one and only gay braincell.

“Uh um where is Wanda?” you curiously ask.

“Oh darling, we only just start to talk to each other and you're already asking for Wanda? How cruel...” you can hear some movement in the background, but you don’t pay much attention to it.

“Oh no! Shit. Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that, I just thought that you two were... are a couple?” you mumble not knowing if you're actually asking or just letting your thoughts out loud.

You can hear not so subtle chuckle, that the woman let out.

“We are a couple...” she stopped talking for a few seconds and you look on your phone to make sure you're two are still having a phone call. You are, so you put your phone back on your ear. You can hear her humming to something and then she starts to talk again. “... how about we talk about this in person?” her voice sounds darker than it did before, and you love it.

“Sure! Yeah! Absolutely, alright! I'm free almost all the time.” your cheeks hurt from all of the smiling you did today.

“So, you don’t have another shift at the pub?” This teasing joke from her made you more lose, and it felt like all the nerves just vanished. You shake your head and giggle at her words.

“Nope. I don’t really have any shifts left there, onetime thing, you know?” She saw right through you, but you didn’t care at all.

“Okay, good.” Her chuckle was something you wanted to listen all day long. “Then how about tonight at Mikey´s coffee shop, does 6pm sounds good?” she suggested.

You nod, realizing she can't see you. “Yes, that sounds perfect.” you add and smile again.

“Perfect...” she repeated after you. “And don’t worry, Wanda will be there as well, she can´t wait and me neither.” now it´s her time to smile like a little girl. Sadly, you can't see that beautiful sight.

“Great! So, uh um I guess see you later, Natasha.” You finally said her name and it rolled off your tongue with effortless grace, as if it was natural. The ease with which her name slipped from your mouth was like the instant connection you two felt at the same time. The sparks again. You felt it and she did definitely too.

“See you later, (Y/N).” You could listen to her voice forever but listen to her say your name was something else. Something that cast a spell on you, as you still stood in your living room, even after the call has ended. The texture of her voice is still in your head. The subtle roughness seemed to dance upon the eardrums, leaving an impression that it could hardly be described.

You look around and giggle like a small child having its first ice cream. Maybe you're very thankful to Kayla for not showing up. Actually, you're definitely thankful.

And maybe this is a really nice start for something new? Something exciting and something that you truly deserve after such a long time.

(again, thank you for all the support!<333)

taglist: @arualdcg @beholdagaywriter @snowdrop1026

#wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #marvel fanfic #wlw #third time is a charm right?#adele writes

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tojiscumdumpster · 6 months

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CHAPTER THREE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

“How’s school going, kid?”

Dinners with Megumi are always tense. Awkward. Silence most of the time until one of us says something, which is usually never. There’s a few things we don’t do together anymore, but eating at the table remains. And it looks like he still likes it when I make shogayaki based on how he cleared his plate.

I didn’t have the best childhood or teenage years growing up. Actually, it was traumatic as shit. The scars scattered across my body remind me everyday. So it’s hard for me to give love, be a father to a boy when I wasn’t given that myself—especially without the help of my wife.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

Whether Megumi wants to admit it or not, we’re alike in many ways. I mean, he has my fucking face for fuck’s sake. He’s stubborn as shit like me. Smart mouth. Slightly tempered. Not talkative. The list can go on and on.

And in other ways, he’s a lot like his mom. Caring. Full of life (when he wants to be). Optimistic. Selfless. Earnest.

Lately, I’ve been getting the side of Megumi where he took after me.

I get it. I haven’t been the best father to him these past seven years. I practically had him fending for himself or dropping him with Kong when I didn’t feel like taking care of him. My wife’s death fucked me up bad and I took it out on Megumi.

He didn’t and doesn’t deserve that shit. He didn’t ask to be in this shitty ass world. We’re in another country. I’m his sole guardian. His only parent, and it’s about time I start acting like it.

So if that starts by me making small talk at the dinner table, then so be it.

“School’s fine,” he answers, flatly.

I take a sip of my ginger ale. “Made some friends?”

He gives me an annoyed look. “It’s only been a week.”

“Some people make friends fast.”

“I’m not looking to make friends.”

Yep. Definitely my kid.

“Okay. Well, what about your teachers?” I take our empty plates to put in the sink.

“They’re alright. One of them is pretty nice. My reading teacher.”

“Yeah? What’s her name?” Megumi tries to do the dishes, but I push him away. “I got it.”

“Miss L /N. She wants to set up a parent-teacher conference.”

“She said when?”

“Monday at three.”

Shit. I start work at four.

“I know that’s near your work time, so I can tell her you can’t-”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can make it. If anything, I’ll call in late.” He nods and gives me a tight smile.

A shitty expression, but I’m taking whatever that’s given to me. I’m honestly surprised he’s even talking to me this long.

“I have a kid from school coming over tonight. He wants to watch a movie,” he announces.

“I thought you said you didn’t make any friends?”

“I didn’t.” Is all he says before he goes to his room and shuts the door.

Progress was made, I guess.

I wouldn’t automatically assume Megumi hates you… He’s adjusting just like you are .

Words of Y/N replays in my mind. I’ve been thinking about her all fucking week. I didn’t even bother to meet up with one of my on-call flings after I met Y/N because I knew no one would compare.

Not after when I felt those sweet full lips and perfect ass of hers. My fist has been meeting with my cock too many times to my liking at the thought of Y/N.

In the shower. Before and after work. When I wake up. When I go to sleep. I kept fucking my hand imagining it was her pussy wrapped around me.

I know Y/N would take me well. She’s just so damn thick. Perfect height and body. A sexy, smooth and soft yet raspy voice. How she whimpered in my mouth.

Fuck, she’d be a good girl.

I’m never one to be desperate to have sex with a woman, but I’m beyond desperate. I need to fuck Y/N badly. Hard. Deeply. Have all of my cock fit inside of her pussy until she’s screaming that she can’t take it.

Everything about her is just so damn sexy. And I’m not only talking about her looks.

I’m usually the type to fuck and go, but something tells me I would want to lay down next to Y/N and hear her talk forever.

Forever?

What the fuck is wrong with me right now? Do I hear how I sound? Like a goddamn lover boy. I just wanted to fuck her. Not spend forever with her.

I know her pussy would be good, but forever good?

Yes .

That’s a question I know never will be fucking no.

It’s been days. I went back to the bar everyday this week hoping that I would see her.

I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.

Enough thinking. Time for work.

“Fushiguro, you’re working third floor tonight with Gojo. Bachelorette party.”

Fucking great. Not only am I pairing up with the annoying motherfucker, but also having to babysit drunk women.

Working at a VIP luxury club isn’t the worst, only if I’m able to do my normal shit like walk the floors. However, nights like these, especially Fridays where we usually have multiple events booked, it annoys me.

Because who gets stuck with the shit? Me.

The club owner better be fucking lucky he pays me generously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing most of the things he asks.

Bachelorette parties are not my favorites because most of the time women think I’m the sexy and mysterious security guard stripper . In their fucking dreams. I don’t crave that kind of attention. Hence why I took a job as security so I don’t have to talk as much.

“Fushiguro, aren’t you glad we’re working together tonight?” The white haired fucker, Gojo, asks me.

“Are you trying to fuck with me?”

He smirks. “Depends. Is it working?”

“Dude-”

“Satoru, if Fushiguro punches you in the face again, don’t come complaining to me.” Another one of the securities joined the banter. Geto Suguru.

Usually, they pair those two together, but tonight they want to leave the babysitting to me with Gojo while he’s walking the floors.

Not looking forward to tonight.

At all.

“Fushiguro acts like he hates me but he doesn’t. Not when little Megumi loves me,” Gojo says.

I snort. “Is that you think?”

“I’m practically his big brother.”

Some of the men here are acquainted with my kid since I brought him to work with me in the beginning. Not an ideal environment for a kid, but didn’t have enough money to afford a babysitter. And despite him being twelve at the time, I had enough sense to not leave him alone in a foreign country.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this night over with.”

I head out the changing room to go to our post on the third floor. The club is damn near already packed and it’s not even eleven o’clock yet. People are drunk and dancing, bumping into me and shit.

Another thing I don’t like about nightlife.

Rather than take the elevator, I use the stairs because it seems like the ladies for the bachelorette party are using it to bring up their set up. Looks like some of them are already up here.

The moment I step on the third floor, I attract eyes from the women. They ogle me like I’m their dinner for the night. And believe it or not, having the attention on me is not my favorite. Like I said earlier, I’ve been dealing with women almost half my life. I offered my sexual advances for money to fend for myself after I was disowned by the Zen’in Family.

I’m single and forty-two. I still have my sexual needs, and it’s not often I’ll deny a woman that offers herself if I’m attracted to her. But that doesn’t mean I want to be stared at all night.

“Ouh, are you one of the male strippers? Sexy bad boy security guard? ” one of the women asked. Brunette. Grey eyes. Average height. Not too bad on the eyes either.

“No. I’m actual the security guards to babysit you, and make sure you don’t fucking puke everywhere.”

She giggles, twirling her hair around her finger. “Well, I’ll try to be on my best behavior, Mr. Security.”

Definitely not my type.

I give her a tight nod and walk to the back of the section out of eyesight.

Eventually the rest of the ladies join to begin their party. Gojo comes up the stairs late, per usual, and the attention turns to him. Unlike me, he likes when women stroke his fucking ego. All better for me while we’re up here for the night.

My assumption is that the bride-to-be just entered because of all the screams and her dressing in white. Am I still allowed to be fucking annoyed by unnecessary loud noise while working in a night club? Yes.

I solely chose this job because it requires less talking and gives me more money.

And I don’t play when it comes to that.

For the most part, time is going by fast. Thirty minutes turns to an hour, and an hour turns to two. Full house club and drunken bachelorette party. Gojo, of course, entertains them, but I stand in the same spot.

“Aren’t we missing someone? I hear the bride ask.

“Yeah, Y/-”

“I’m here! I’m here!”

That voice sounds familiar. No, I know that voice. When I look over to the section, deep skin that glows under the colorful lights, coils pulled in an updo, stilettos with a tiny fucking dress that’s cut out around the waist.

Y/N.

And fuck, she looks damn good.

“Y/N, you’re late,” the bride-to-be pouts. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

She kisses her on the cheek. “I know. I’m sorry. I had like three thousand tests to grade, then I had to go pick up your gift. Then, freaking Nanami. It was just a lot,” she explains. “But I’m here! And you have me for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, sounds hectic. So, you’re forgiven.” The bride-to-be pours a shot of tequila in a glass to hand to Y/N. “Here. You have a lot of catching up to do. As you can see—we’re drunk.”

Y/N giggles. “Oh, gosh.” But takes the shot and downs it anyways.

She makes her rounds to greet the rest of the party and it’s like they all gravitate to her. Like the true life of the party has arrived.

I study every interaction. I watch how those pretty lips move and spread a smile across her gorgeous face. It’s only been a few days and it feels like she’s gotten prettier since I last saw her.

My cock hardens at the thought of having Y/N’s ass in my hands and her full lips on mine again, maybe this time while she’s naked and riding me. Or preferably in that dress. It’s so damn short and tight. Her love handles shows, and again, she’s not wearing a fucking bra.

It’s like she’s begging for me to suck her pretty tits. I will if she wants me to.

“Shit, Fushiguro,” Gojo says, coming near me to interrupt my thoughts. “Being up here isn’t bad after all. All these beautiful women, especially the one that just came in. The thick one? She’s beyond gorgeous.”

I let out a territorial growl and shot daggers through his skull. Y/N isn’t mine, but she’s mine.

“Off limits.”

He laughs. “What? That’s your girlfriend? I doubt she wants a geezer like you.”

“I’ll fuck-” And before I could respond, it’s like Y/N felt someone staring at her because when she turned around, we made eye contact.

She smiled a few times since she got here, but none of the smiles compares to the one she’s giving me right now. It shows her excitement. Her attraction. Her amazement of seeing me, like she never would me again, the same way I thought about her.

Y/N says something to one of the other women before making her way to me. Her walk, how her legs look, especially while wearing those heels. How those full fucking hips sways—it’s sexy. She’s sexy, and I’d be damned if she doesn’t know it.

“Toji Fushiguro.” Her voice is calm and relaxing. “We meet again.”

“We do.”

She closes the space between us but still keeps a respectful distance, just enough to have her vanilla and warm berries scent invade my senses.

“Hi, big guy,” she breathes, sexually.

Y/N calling me big guy causes my dick to twitch in my pants. I really need to readjust myself right now, but it would make it real obvious how hard I am.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her like it’s a fact because it is.

“Thank you. You clean up well, too.”

“Just work uniform.”

She shrugs. “Then maybe I need to start coming here more often.”

This time I don’t need to ask if she’s flirting with me like last time. I know she is. Her body language is telling me that she wants me to fuck her.

There’s just something so organic about our chemistry. Our barely started chemistry, which makes me feel like we’ve been at this our entire lives. I refuse to believe we’re just strangers.

“You’re too pretty to be talking to him,” Gojo snorts.

Y/N gives him an annoyed expression, arching her brow. “And you’re too much of an asshole to be talking to me.”

The balance between Y/N being sweet and spicy makes a pervert out of me. Fuck.

Although I didn’t need the defending, it’s funny knowing not every woman is willing to stroke that motherfucker’s ego.

He doesn’t say a word. Just walks back to his side of the section while smirking at Y/N. But of course, she pays him no mind.

“I hope all your coworkers aren’t like that to you.”

“I don’t really care if they are or aren’t. I’m here to make my money and leave,” I said.

“I suppose. I still don’t like that, though.”

“Come here, Y/N.”

She completely closed any bit of space that kept us apart and pushed her breasts against my chest. I look down at her, dragging my eyes to her tits to see how full and swollen they are. Perfect size to put my cock between.

“Are you going to touch me?” she questions, invitingly.

“I can’t. Club rules. Unless we’re not seen on the floor.”

She raises her brows, smiling. “So… behind closed doors, you can?”

“I can.”

All she does is smile and go in the direction of the stairs, but first stops at the section.

“Ladies, I’ll be back. The security guard is going to show me where the bathroom is. I’ve never been here before.”

“Let us know how the dick is!” someone yells, leaving Y/N laughing while walking away.

I can neither confirm or deny that Y/N and I are going to fuck, but how she’s looking tonight, I’m willing to take whatever she gives me.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #toji angst #jjk angst

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

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𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au

part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.7k] | au masterlist

Every day you wake up and wonder if today is the day you'll cry. It hurts to look at the blank walls of your bedroom and the small pile of things on your dresser you were going to put up: the drive-in ticket, a polaroid Jonathan took of you at the New-Bee's stall, a candle label from your first batch. Does it even matter now?

But the tears don't come. So you decide to push on the bruise in your chest, the ache that has returned full force but worse. It's in the shape of Steve.

You think about the first time you saw him, how you wanted him to touch you so badly even though he made you so mad. You think about him in the rainstorm, wet and willing to help you, you think about him under you at the drive-in, hands eager and rough. You think about him on top of you in his bed, gentle and tender as he panted your name.

And you've ruined it all. You've ruined whatever was between you, that glowing, beautiful thing, and you've hurt him in the process. Which is the thing you can't forgive yourself for.

You're eating breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen the morning of the first November market. Bob knows you're not coming -- you told him you weren't feeling great and he totally understands. You've worked hard the last few months and he knows it. He also knows that something is wrong, that Halloween changed something. That the phone call with Steve was about much more than just you getting home safely.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, packing his lunch before he leaves for the market. "Have you thought about what you want to do after the last market next week?" It's hard to believe that there really is only one more week in the season. The leaves are almost all gone and you can smell winter in the air.

You swirl your spoon in your oatmeal and don't look at him. "I'm not sure yet," you sigh. A call home last week hadn't helped, though it did convince you that the last thing you want is to move back in with your parents. "Mom says it's up to me."

"Well," he says, dragging out the word. "You're welcome to stay here and keep working on the farm. We've got lots of things to make for the holidays. Or you can get a job in town!" You don't realize that you never thought Bob would want you to stay until the words leave his mouth. But how silly of you to think that he'd be anything but kind to you, even if you're not contributing to his business. "Point is," he continues, "you can stay here as long as you want."

For a long second your heart considers it. Staying in Hawkins, making it your home. Regardless of your current circumstances.

Which you need to figure out. Regardless of how you feel and how Steve feels, you owe him an apology at the very least.

But you're not feeling very brave yet, so you call Sara's Farm while the market is going on, hoping no one will be there and you can just leave a message.

The dial tone only rings once before a sweet voice answers. "Sara's Farm, this is Jane, how can I help you?"

"Hi, El," you say. She gasps your name in delight, then says it once more in a tone you like much less. Did Steve tell anyone what you did? That you left him?

"Why aren't you at the market?" she asks. "Are you okay?" Her automatic concern washes away your own.

"Don't worry about me," you say.

"I do! Steve said you got sick on Halloween and had to go home. Are you still sick?" She doesn't totally believe you, you can tell. A lump rises in your throat. He's kept your business between you both. It makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"I feel better," you lie. "Can you tell Steve that I called? That I want to talk to him?"

El pauses before she answers. "Do you think you're gonna figure it out? Whatever happened?" Smart girl, you think.

"I hope so," you tell her. She says your name again, this time sounding like a scold.

"Good, because you both are much more fun when you're happy together." That, more than anything in the last few days makes tears prick in your eyes.

And maybe that's why you burst into tears when someone knocks on the farmhouse door and you see that it's Robin. You can barely speak when she spills into the kitchen, cheeks rosy despite her hat, gloves, and at least four layers.

"So you are alive!" she says, and then realizes you're basically sobbing. "Oh, god. Wait, let me just --" She toes off her shoes and drops her gloves and outermost jacket on the ground before she opens her arms. "Okay. Do you want a hug?" You step into her embrace before she's finished asking. Her hands rub up and down your back in a slightly awkward way that's all Robin.

"Sorry," you hiccup. "This is embarrassing. I don't know why I'm crying." That much is true. There are so many things you're feeling that you don't know which ones you're upset about at this moment.

"I'm not good with crying girls," she says as you both sway side to side in your hug. "Crying anyone, really. I just never know what to say! But I do know that you have nothing to be sorry about. You can cry all you want. It's great for your skin! Well, I don't actually know that but Nancy told me once. And, well, you know Nancy. If she says it it's probably true, right?" You huff, throat thick but eyes starting to dry. You wiggle out of her arms and turn to wipe your face.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask her. "How was the market?" Ever adaptable to a change of subject, Robin sits at the kitchen table as you fill a glass of water without waiting for her answer.

"It was...boring without you," she says slowly. "Strange, too. Bob told people you didn't feel great so I thought I'd come check on you."

You hum and sniff a little. You must look like a wreck from crying. "I, uh..." You can't look at her.

"I know something happened." She sighs. "Steve didn't tell me what but I figure you guys had a fight or something? And look, he's my best friend but you're both my friends and I don't want to get in the middle of it but I do care that you're both miserable."

You turn around and she's looking at you with such kindness, such warmth, that you have to swallow another round of tears. "We didn't fight," you tell her. "The opposite, really. But I messed it up and hurt him because I'm scared."

"Kinda looks like you hurt yourself, too," she says, not unkindly. "Is it something...you want to fix?"

"I don't know if I can." You scrub at your swollen eyes with cold hands. "But even if he can't forgive me I need to explain myself and apologize. And then..." you trail off.

"And then?" she asks. "I know you have a lot going on so I wasn't going to ask but there's only one market left and...do you know if you're gonna stay here? In Hawkins?"

You don't answer right away and Robin squirms in her seat but lets to think about it. Because a not small part of you wants to tell her that yes, you'll stay. You want to. You love it here. But things are a mess right now and it doesn't feel fair to make the choice before you've talked to Steve.

"I don't know," you finally say. 'I don't know how staying would work. It might be better just to leave. Easier." The words taste wrong in your mouth but you can't take them back.

Robin's chair scrapes on the hardwood as she gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of you. "One thing at a time, then, right? And you'll tell me when you decide?" You grab her hand.

"Of course, I will. I just have to talk to Steve first."

___

It takes you three days to work up the courage to call Sara's again. Hopper picks up.

"Sara's," he says gruffly.

"Uh, hi, it's --" He sighs before you can finish your sentence.

"Harrington!" he yells, though it's muffled as if he covered the receiver with his hand. Your stomach flips. "What do you mean who is it? Who else calls around here looking for you?" You can't hear Steve, and then Hopper's back on the line.

"I don't think I want to know why he won't talk to you," he says. This time, your stomach feels like a lead weight.

"That's fine," you rush out. "Can you give him a message for me? Uh, Hopper, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," he says. "I guess I don't have a choice. He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Tell him to meet me at the lake tonight, if he can? Where we had the bonfire? 8 pm?" You try to keep the pleading out of your voice but you must fail because Hopper's next words are almost kind.

"Sure, kid. I'll tell him." The phone clicks and you hear the dial tone.

You don't really expect him to show up. It's freezing, cold enough that you're sitting in the cab of the truck with the heat on while you wait in the dark. The remains of your bonfire from weeks ago sit in the fire pit, the ash and charred logs illuminated by your headlights. Why did you think this was a good idea? Steve has no reason to hear you out. He has every right to never speak you to again, no matter how awful that would be.

But then you hear it -- the rumble of a truck, headlights bright on the shore next to yours. Before the lights in the cab go out you can see Steve take a deep breath. He opens the door and walks quickly through the cold, his breath puffing in front of him, to your passenger door. You have to force yourself to keep your own inhales even at the sight of him. Your entire body feels like it's aching as he climbs in next to you. He feels miles away.

"Hey," he says. He clears his throat and doesn't look at you for longer than a quick glance up and down. "Are you okay? You weren't at the market on Saturday."

"I'm fine," you say, the lie now familiar in your mouth. "Are you okay?" You don't know what possesses you to ask. He looks fine, if a little cold. Same warm eyes, if a bit wary, messy hair pushed into his hat haphazardly. He looks pretty as always.

"Honestly?" You nod, though he's not looking at you. "Not really."

"Steve--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"I wasn't going to come," he says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry, that's not true. I've been jumping every time the phone rings for almost a week, hoping it's you. But I can't bring myself to answer it. I've been desperate to see you again but I also can't look at you because it makes me sad."

"Sad?" you whisper.

"Because I don't understand what happened. And I want to fix it, but I also want to be mad at you. And I can't figure out how to do either."

He doesn't say anything else and you take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Steve," you say. You've said the words out loud to yourself hundreds of times by now and they taste funny in your mouth. Like missed opportunity. Like your own mistakes.

"Can I ask why?" he says, finally turning to look at you head-on. "Why you left?"

"I--yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to explain myself. I owe you that." How do you do this without telling him you love him? Without sounding like you're trying to manipulate him into forgiving you? Because that's the last thing you want to do. "I hope I don't need to tell you that it's nothing you did," you say. "It's all me. And I know that sounds like it's not you, it's me but that's the truth. It's me. I-- I freaked out. I freaked out because you have changed my entire life, Steve. You've turned it upside down and made me love a place I didn't feel right in at first and you-- you are good and kind and everything wonderful about this town." You've kept your eyes on your hands clenched tight in your lap but you look up at him then. His gaze is steady, brows furrowed. "And I...god, Steve. I don't want this to sound like I'm guilting you or anything because it's only been a few months but that night I realized that I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me."

You're looking at him as you say it, so you see that he doesn't react even a little bit. It makes your chest tighten, but you push that down. It's not about if he loves you or not. It's about apologizing.

"I understand how that's scary," he says carefully. His own hands are shoved in his pockets. You wonder if he's clenched them into fists. "I just don't know why you'd leave instead of telling me how you were feeling."

"I wish I could take that back."

He looks away again. "Do you regret everything else, too? Having sex? Everything before?"

"God, no," you breathe out. "No, Steve. I don't regret any of that." You want to touch him but you know you shouldn't. It wouldn't help anything.

"Do you get why you leaving like that hurt?" he asks. "Why the last thing I expected to come back to was an empty bed?" You chew on your lip as he keeps talking. "Because I thought we had figured that out. The whole...not talking to each other bullshit. Dealing with our emotions unfairly, being too hasty and hurtful. You helped me learn how to do that and I tried for you."

There's nothing to say. Other than the truth. "I know, and I'm sorry," you tell him. "I freaked out and I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do. And I understand if you can't forgive me--"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts, tone a hair from desperate. The first real emotion you've heard from him other than frustration. "I just need some space, I think. Okay?" He lifts his hand in the air and it seems to hover in the space between you before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You inhale raggedly.

"Okay," you say. He smiles but it's sad and climbs out of your truck and back into his, driving into the night with a little wave.

You sit in silence for a few seconds before hot tears trickle down your cheeks. But this time, they're of relief. Because he doesn't hate you. Because he might forgive you, someday. Your chest aches but just for a moment, you let yourself feel all of it: the overwhelming sensation of being in love with Steve. It washes over you and all you want is for him to be happy.

Maybe when you tell him you're going to stay in Hawkins he'll even be glad about it. He cares about you, no one can deny that. And maybe, maybe he can love you.

___

After you talk with Steve you allow yourself to lean into preparing for the last market. You barely leave the farm because you make as many candles and soaps as you can. You wander into the farmhouse after finishing your latest batch of candles -- Steve's candles, as you call them in your head -- to find a fairly large size wicker basket on the counter.

"What's this?" you ask Bob. He's tying string onto honey jars.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he smiles. The basket contains an odd collection of stuff, all from local businesses. A small bouquet from Byers Flowers, a bag of mushrooms from Rick's, some jam from Sara's. A tiny pumpkin with a face drawn on it and even one of your own candles.

"Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers biked that over and dropped it off. Said it was for you." He points to the card you'd missed before that's nestled behind. the flowers.

We hope this humble offering helps convince you to stay in Hawkins!

It's written in a steady hand you know to be Will's and signed by every kid individually: Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El.

"Wow," you whisper. "I guess the rumor mill has started."

"I've heard that you might be leaving," Bob says. "Not sure where that came from." Robin, you think. Your darling friend might have gotten ahead of herself. "We don't have to talk about it, but have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

You don't hesitate, eyes on the card in your hand. "I want to stay."

The final market is the busiest Saturday you've seen, even though it's practically freezing. The November chill worms its way under your three layers, hat, and gloves. You should have worn two pairs of pants. There is laughter and your candles fly off the stand. There's a stand of hot cider somewhere that smells delightful.

And the weirdest thing keeps happening. People keep stopping you to say that they don't want you to leave town, and then when you tell them you aren't going to, they're so relieved. You've had the same conversation with so many customers that you've lost count. It really is a small town, you think. Your small town.

"Hey!" Eddie bounds over to your stall as the market is about to end, curls shoved into a black beanie with a pom-pom on top. He looks to be wearing at least three flannels under his leather jacket. "I heard you're leaving?" He looks pretty down about it, too. "I'd have brought you some mushrooms but I know you don't like them."

"Where did everyone get this idea that I'm leaving?" you huff. "I only told Robin that was still trying to decide--" Eddie scrunches up his nose and grimaces. "Did she tell you I was leaving?"

"Welllll..." he drags out. "She might have hinted that she thought you were going to and I think the story got out somehow." Then he brightens. "So you're not leaving?"

You smile, allowing the happiness of your choice to fill you for just a second. "I'm sticking around," you tell him. He whoops far too loudly.

"Thank Christ," he says. "Otherwise we'd have to deal with a sad Harrington forever." You look at your feet. "Oh, come on," he says. "You haven't made up yet?"

"How do you know about that?" you mumble, eyes still on the ground.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says. "Anyone can tell just by looking at Steve that he's down as hell. And he won't tell anyone why."

"I--" You want to ask him more, ask him what he's talked to Steve about, ask him if he's seen Steve today since you haven't, but before you can Robin runs over.

"You're staying?" she pants. "I heard it from Vickie who heard it from Brenda who heard it from her mom who heard it from you. I thought you were going! I told people you were going!" The memory of you crying in her arms flashes in your mind. Maybe it's not so outrageous that she got the impression you wanted to leave Hawkins.

"Well, here I am," you say. "If you'll have me."

"Fuck yeah we'll have you," Robin cries, grabbing your hands over the stall counter. A few people shoot her dirty looks for her language but she doesn't notice. "Oh my god, we're going to have so much fun. You have to come visit me at school, and we'll do Friendsgiving, and New Year's Eve, and --"

She prattles on about all the things you're going to do, and you can't fight your smile. But there's a lingering barb in your chest because you still have to tell Steve. Have to see if he's forgiven you if he ever will. If he's okay with you sticking around, regardless.

You want to ask Robin about him but you don't. He'll come to you if he wants to since he's the one who wants space and you want to respect that. But it would be nice to see him here, at the place where you met. The place where it all started.

So after your friends wander away with a bounce in their steps, you soak in the last moments of your last market for this year. Vendors wave at you on their way out and you pack up as slowly as you can, stretching out the task as long as possible. And to see if Steve will come say hi after all. He must have hid in the Sara's tent all morning.

You're careful with the candles, eyes on the fading line on your palm. The giddiness of that day in the rain with Steve is a fond memory, even if it makes the ache more profound. His smile, his laugh, his gentle hands. Hands you hope to hold again. The crates are all done and you take a deep breath and tell yourself you have to bring them to the truck when you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. You look up and --

There he is. He looks frazzled, no hat or gloves despite the cold, cheeks and nose pink, and hair a riot. He walks towards you with determined steps, stopping a few feet away.

"Hi," you breathe. "Hey, Steve," you say again, louder. It's like you willed him to come over here.

"Uh, hi," he says, dragging one hand through his hair and shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry I didn't come over earlier. It's been really busy today and -- well." He sucks on his teeth and looks at the sky. "Listen, I heard some stuff today and I don't know what's true and I know I asked for space but I had to come ask you because --" He takes a breath. It's unlike him to ramble like this, you think. It's endearing. "Are you staying in Hawkins or are you leaving?" he asks.

You blink. "Oh," you say. The rumors must have gotten to him and Robin hasn't set him right yet. "Yeah, that. Uh, well, first I just want to say I'm sorry again and I hope that the space is good for you." You clear your throat, swallowing the lump. "I want to fix things between us, whatever that looks like, but only if you want to. And I don't want to rush you, but --"

Steve takes a step towards you and your voice stops working for a second, long enough for him to start talking again. "Sorry, but before you go on and tell me you're leaving I just...please don't let it be because of me." He takes a hand from his pocket like he wants to reach for you but balls it into a fist instead. "If you want to leave I don't want to stop you because you have to do what's right for you and I know I asked for space but I don't think I want that and I should have just told you before." He takes a deep breath.

"Told me what, Steve?" you ask so softly you don't know if he hears you. He runs his hands through his hair again. He takes another step forward, so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. His eyes are warm and bright when they meet yours.

"I'm in love with you. I love you. I don't know if you meant it by the lake and that's okay but I mean it now. It's soon and it's scary and I don't know what to do about it or where it'll take us but I just have to tell you so you know because...you can't leave without at least knowing that I do. You can't leave thinking I won't forgive you." He laughs a little to himself and takes half a step back. "And we need to work on our communication, especially if you leave, but I just want you whatever way I can have you--"

"Steve," you croak. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. He loves you.

He blinks a few times, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, sorry," he says. "Keep going with what you were saying."

Your thoughts are gibberish inside your head. All you can think is how badly you want to hold this boy in front of you. "Steve," you say again. He looks more worried this time, but before he can say anything you throw yourself at him, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He's quick to pull his hands out of his coat to wrap his arms around you and you feel his cold nose on the skin of your neck.

"I'm staying," you say into his shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

He pulls away just enough to see you, noses almost touching. "Did I hear that right? You're staying?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I want to stay. I love this town and the people in it and it's home now. And I, uh, want to figure us out. If you want to." You are embarrassed to feel your lashes grow wet. Steve brings his hands between you and blows on them before he gently frames your face.

"Did you think I'd not want to?" His thumbs stroke your cheeks. "I can say that whole speech again."

"No," you say, leaning into his palms. "I did think maybe you'd tell me not to stay. When we were at the lake. So I didn't bring it up." His face does something funny before he touches his forehead to yours.

"I will never tell you to go because I want you here, wherever here is. I just want you with me." You want to pull him into your chest, to show him how your heart has his name on it.

"I still don't know what I want, Steve," you whisper. "I want to stay here but I don't know how long that'll last. I'm not sure of anything but I'm sure about you. I'm sure that I love you."

"We can figure it out," he says, mouth curling into a smile. His eyes shine bright at your words. You both know that you have a lot of work to do -- learning how to communicate better, how to love each other right, how to deal with your own wounds and insecurities and feelings. There is growing to do. But you can do it together.

"Okay," you nod. Your noses brush. Maybe it is that easy. Just deciding what you want and seeing it in front of you and taking it. Calling it yours, holding it close. All of the hard stuff has led to this and maybe it was all worth it to get to this point -- the fighting and the misunderstandings and all of the kisses and the ache in your chest that you now know is just love. It's love with all its aches and pains and it's worth it.

"Can we kiss now, please?" he asks you. His breath is hot on your skin, visible in the space between you.

"Yes, please."

The press of his lips to yours is delicate, soft. It's loving. His thumbs stroke your face lazily and you grab his forearms gently, feeling the strength and the warmth of him through his layers. All Steve, you think. All yours. It's like he's thinking the same thing because his mouth curls into a smile against yours and you're not so much kissing as grinning against each other but it's exactly what you want. It's Steve. It's home.

THE END.

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123 @dahliamae @localbnbg @palmtreesx3 @eddiethesexy

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #no good at waiting

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dumbkiri · 3 months

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I know this isn't on your list on fandoms, but if this game falls under it please please please can you write this request!

Valorant Omen x Fem! Reader that is a radianite from experiments and she has the power like Tracer from Overwatch! I know he has memory problems and his background is pretty much hidden. But it would be cute if he had a wife and kid that he finds on the misison in ep 8!

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: You're so lucky I no-life Valorant! And I'm a Mercy Main lmaooo. This is my first Val imagine and I rushed this out with some mistakes. It's like you said Omen is a freaking mystery!! So hopefully this is to your liking!!

Val!Omen x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭

“I’m still here, don’t worry.”

A ghostly hand caressed the hood of his cloak, her faint touch making him crave more of her.

“This job is wearing you down, my love. I think it’s time you come back home to me.”

He could hear the caring in her tone, he could tell she loved him dearly.

“Just don’t forget about me. Who knows what’ll happen to me if they come for me to get to you. I can tell they’re not done with Wisteria yet and I want you to know that I appreciate all that you did for me to get me out. Must not be easy doing these missions without me.”

He needed her to keep talking. This conversation, he remembers it. He’s starting to remember her and a little bit of what he used to be.

“What am I saying? It’s hard living in the shadows, hiding the truth away from our employers. Do you still have your wedding ring? You were smart to say that we should wear it on our right hand instead of the traditional left. Truth be told, I wear mine on the left.”

She laughed.

“We vowed to keep each other safe. And this mission that you’re going to take on, I have a feeling it’s not going to end in your favor. Just my radar going off. So be safe, —---”

No, what did she call him? Could it be his name? Say more, say anything!

“Again, be safe. Phoenix and I await your return. Oh yeah, I have a surprise for you. I just hope you don’t freak out as much as I did.”

Omen woke up from his slumber and a ball of yarn toppled from his lap when he sprung up from the chair. Quickly the table to his right flipped over when he let his anger out for not getting more information. He looked to the source of sound that woke him up and standing there with his hands up, Phoenix said, “Yo, I apologize for interrupting your sleep, but they’re ready to leave.”

Omen looked at the mess he made and left it to be someone else’s job to clean it up. Right now, the mission and his group waited for him. Omen knew he had to be closer to the truth because that unknown woman’s voice kept getting stronger, getting more clearer.

Pissed off, Omen briskly walked past Phoenix and the door automatically slid open to the main hallway. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoed in the silent hallway and he became occupied with the woman again. For now, the information he got in his naps was that, as bizarre as it sounds, they were married. He married that woman out of love and they did missions together until he got her out of their organization.

Her call sign is Wisteria. Omen passed down that information to Cypher and nothing came out of it besides the word “TERMINATED” on the blank profile. She did exist and he knew deep down she was not dead.

Another piece of information he attained was that Phoenix is a dog. She did not know of the agent Phoenix, the one that woke him up two minutes ago. Omen could not remember what kind of dog Phoenix was either.

“Cypher found something, Omen.”

Iso spoke up first, his back resting on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Omen looked around and found Cypher typing away on the main computer pulling up a familiar profile. The profile of Wisteria popped out on the big screen with new information.

“This profile updated last night and I knew you would want to know about it.”

Cypher typed some more and multiple files began to open up with pictures of the woman from old missions to her most recent one. In her old missions, she wore an all black tactical gear with a Phantom in her hands.

“Wisteria is an assassin that works for Hourglass. She has unique abilities that can rival your teleportation,” Sova said, “and she has a dog that fights with her.”

“A dog?” Omen questioned and Cypher chuckled, a picture maximized from her recent mission popped up. She wore the same outfit, but right next to her with a black tactical vest on was a German Shepherd. Cypher zoomed in on the dog mainly focusing on the patch with the initials PHX in bold red, “The dog’s name is Phoenix and believe me when I say this, you do not want to fight this beast.”

“Where is she?”

Cypher turned his chair around and leaned over with a hint of mischief in his tone, “Protecting the boss. The recent mission in Morocco scared him so he brought his loyal dog to protect him in Indonesia.”

“Is there anything else we need to know more about?” Sova asked this time, the woman seemed to put Omen in a state of anticipation. Cypher remained quiet and his head tilted with a slight. Then he stood up from the chair with a cheerful, “No!”

“Then let’s move,” Omen demanded.

……

“Mama!”

You stopped walking next to your boss and before you could turn around, a body jumped onto your leg and Phoenix let out a happy whine seeing her favorite human. You looked down in surprise to see your three year old clinging onto your leg and looking up at you with pretty [e.color] eyes. His hair was unruly as usual and you picked him up from the floor with a grin on your face.

“Henry, how have you been? Emilia is a nice lady, right?” You sent a discreet glare at the woman in a white pencil skirt and a white blouse to match it. Emilia responded to your glare with a small bow, her stiff body reminding you that she was just following orders as well.

“We got ice cream after I ate my food! We watched a movie too!” Henry excitedly responded and your boss put his hand on your lower back. His creepy touch sent shivers down your spine and you quickly set Henry down on the floor, ignoring his look of disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” You apologized and pressed a quick kiss on his temple, “but I have to work right now. I promise, I’ll see you very soon.” Phoenix nudged Henry and the little boy’s frown disappeared in a flash. He scratched the back of her ears and she licked his face with a happy wag of her big tail.

You watched with a small smile and said, “You know, Henry, since you’re here Phoenix can join you and Emilia. I’m sure the three of you would enjoy her company, she misses you a lot.”

Henry looked up at you and wiped his face, “Really? But Phoenix is your protector, mama. She helps you beat the bad guys.” He stopped petting the dog and he looked down at the floor in sadness. “What if something bad happens and she’s not there to protect you?”

It should be the other way around, you wanted to say. If something bad does happen and those guys from Valorant are coming after your boss, you need to make sure Henry would be protected. Emilia was a skilled fighter, but against radianite agents…she had no chance with them. Phoenix will be able to keep Henry well-protected. And you hoped the agents from Valorant have more heart than the ones working for Hourglass.

“Nothing will happen to me, okay?” You ruffled his hair and removed a pocket off your vest. The velcro pocket connects to Phoenix’s vest when you pat it on her. “When you hear her growling low and quiet, make sure you give her a treat. She’s letting you know to hide.”

Henry nodded his head and rested his small hand on her head. You waved at him and walked away with your boss straight up to the penthouse. The elevator ride had been silent until the man spoke up, “It was a surprise to see Henry. I don’t recall telling Emilia to bring him over to the building.”

“I did,” You said without hesitation. You slung the Phantom over your back and continued explaining, “I don’t need Phoenix to watch over me. I thought it best to hand her over to Henry.”

“You doubt Emilia’s skill to protect your son?”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Do you believe she can take on Radianites?” His silence confirmed your answer. Suddenly a shiver went down your spine and it didn’t go unnoticed by your boss. His words demanded you to find the intruders, “Go on then. Find them swiftly and end their lives.”

……

The first intruder you found was a man with blonde hair and a bow as his weapon. You recognized him as Sova, his aim never seemed to fail him especially in crucial moments. But he lost an eye for a reason. “Are you good at hand to hand combat?” You flexed your fingers then closed them into fists.

“I have experience.” He responded wary of you. He must know about your ability to teleport or ‘blink’ as you like to call it. You ran at him and he released an arrow your way. Before the tip of it could touch your shoulder, you blinked and appeared right in front of his face. Your fist connects with his jaw making him stumble a few feet away from you.

He drew another arrow and you blinked out of its way then reappeared in the same spot. You put your hands on your hips and said, “Please just give up. I don’t have time for this.”

“Neither do I,” This arrow sparked with electricity and it soared towards you with amazing speed. But despite his determination, you caught the arrow in your gloved hand. You wanted to mock him until the arrow sent a pulse of electricity through your system. You yelped and tossed the arrow to the side.

Your body tingled, the feeling of fuzziness coursing through your body. You didn’t notice that you fell on one knee until you were looking up at Sova. “Nowhere to run,” He said quietly and drew his bow, swiftly he looked away from you and pointed it at the penthouse.

“Wait, don’t!” You shouted and jumped forward. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Your legs felt heavy and your heart beated in your chest rapidly. You charged right into Sova and you both rolled over one another on the rails of the crane. You ended up on top of him and pointed your ghost at his forehead.

Then you dragged your wide eyes to the penthouse seeing your boss falling down the building. You could hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears and you felt the breath leave your body as you holster your pistol. You pulled your communicator from your breast pocket and contacted Emilia.

“Jaguar, respond.” You pushed yourself off of Sova and gripped the communicator tightly in your hand. “I said respond!”

A crackle sparked in the communicator and Emilia’s voice came through. The woman sounded remorseful, “I have orders, Wisteria.”

You knew what she was talking about. Her orders, you remembered them when your boss forced you back in the organization. If you failed him, your son would pay the price. Emilia was his executioner. You could feel the tears in your eyes form, your voice wavering, “Don’t do it. He’s just a boy.”

“I’m sorry.” Emilia replied back and this didn’t stop you from yelling at her. “Emilia, he’s just a boy!” Then you hoped the command you would give would be heard by your loyal friend.

“Phoenix, guard!”

Sova stood up and watched you give him a tearful glare in angry silence. Then you blinked twice across the sky into the penthouse, running past Omen without stopping. Sova felt conflicted yet he informed everyone to search the building for a young boy.

……

Omen saw flashes of his past. How he came to be and who the responsible one was. It hadn’t been enough though. He needed more.

“Fool. She’s going to hate you.”

Then Omen felt a wave of sadness and anxiety wash over him. A woman with [h.color] hair and watery [e.color] eyes ran past him with her Phantom gripped tightly in her hands. She spared him no glance and kicked the door to the penthouse down.

“Friends. There’s a boy in danger, I believe it to be Wisteria’s son.”

Son?

Omen ran into the circular hallway and watched Wisteria blink all around the floors looking for the little boy. She knocked down so many doors, jumped over the bodies he’s injured prior to all of this. Then she stopped on the fifth floor and he teleported right after she ran into the room.

He could hear a dog growling and someone muffling their cries. Omen hesitated to walk into the dark room. Could he face her, his supposed wife? Omen peeked into the room and saw her hunched over on the floor, her crying being muffled by something. Phoenix lay down right next to her with a knife wound to her hind legs.

Wisteria must have heard him take a step and she looked over her shoulder at him. Her [e.color] eyes softened and she ran up to him, holding an unconscious boy in her arms. “Please, you must know how to help him. He won’t…won’t wake up.”

Omen looked away from her sad eyes to the gunshot wound in the little boy’s shoulder. “I can,” Omen hesitated, “I can take him, but we have to hurry. His breathing is getting shallower.” Omen could feel the boy slowly breathing, the essence of his soul fading away.

There was no time for hesitation and Wisteria handed her son over to her enemy. Then she ran back to Phoenix, scooping the big dog into her arms. Phoenix whined out loud and Omen could hear Wisteria apologize quietly.

“Follow me.”

He wasn’t surprised that she kept up with him. The urgency in her soul seemed to push him to go faster. Her son’s life was on the line and he knew he must be the one to blame. She failed her mission to protect her boss and the punishment for that was the life of her son ending.

……

Every Valorant agent, especially the young ones, stood outside of the infirmary with bated breaths. They have heard that the mission in Indonesia was a success, but an enemy had been invited to their base of safety.

“So you’re telling me that Omen brought her in? Isn’t this against regulations or something?” Phoenix questioned, his British accent scratching the back of everyone’s mind.

Iso rolled his eyes and sipped on his boba drink, “It’s more complicated than you think. Omen knows what he’s doing, we shouldn’t doubt his judgment.”

The door to the infirmary opened up and Sage and Brim walked out with a confident posture. Sage gave everyone a look and sighed, “I should know better than to think you guys can give anybody some space.”

“So how is she doing? Is she going to try to escape?” Jett asked, still on some kind of alert.

Brimstone spoke up for the both of them, “It’s her son and dog that is injured. And no, we heard her story and we can say that she is not our enemy. Now get back to training or else I will assign some chores for you all to do.”

……

Omen watched the door close and he looked back at Wisteria from the shadowed corner. She looked beyond tired and he felt bad for her. He could feel her sadness and confusion. Her hand slipped away from her son’s and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, Omen.”

Her voice remained calm and he knew she was not mad at him for his intrusion. He stepped out of the shadows, his steps light and slow. She looked at him and gestured to the empty seat next to her where Brim occupied before he left the room.

Omen walked over and took the invitation with not a word uttered.

“I want to thank you for putting our differences aside, especially in a pivotal moment. I was so…so afraid you would turn away from me.” Wisteria admitted and Omen gazed at her. Her hands were tucked into her arms and she crossed a leg over the other.

“Never,” He grumbled and a chord tugged at his heart. He knows his past self told her this and he needed her to recall their past for him, “I didn’t turn away from you before, I will never turn away from you now.”

She stared at him cautiously, but brushed it off to start off his interrogation.

“You must have questions about me or something if you’re lingering around the room.”

Omen shifted in his seat and asked, “Do you know what happened to your husband?”

Wisteria cleared her throat and followed his line of eyesight, she had forgotten that she took her bloodied gloves off. Her silver band reflects the ceiling light as she twirled it around on her finger, “Uhm, no. My former boss told me that he failed a mission and betrayed the organization. Then he threatened me to not look into the mission, so I know he’s out there somewhere.”

Omen moved on to the next question, “You mentioned memory gaps, do you know your husband’s name at least?”

“I do not recall. Ever since I joined the organization and got this ability, the experiments left me with blanks and a house burned to the floor. Not that it matters, we didn’t take many photos together.”

“Oh,” Omen said dejectedly. Then he asked his third question, “And your son, his dad is the one who left, correct?”

She took a shaky breath in and nodded her head, “Yeah, I felt extremely bad not letting him know about his son. When he went on missions, we did our best to separate our home life from his work. I was the only one who would contact him with voicemails and I hated the idea of disclosing my surprise on the phone. Little did I know, he wouldn’t return and now it’s been three years of raising Henry on my own.”

Omen analyzed the way she held her tears back. Wisteria’s voice wavered, “God, I only hope that when I see him again, he’ll forgive me.” She wiped her tears away with a sniffle, “Do you think he would be mad at me? For not telling him?”

The shrouded man flickered in his seat and she noticed the troubled expression on his different face. “I’m..not…” Was now the right time to tell her that he’s her husband? Should he say he’s not mad? That for some reason, he could never be mad at her. She did what was right and did everything she could to protect Henry.

“I’m not..sure.” Omen hated the way her shoulders slumped and the hope in her watery eyes vanished. She licked her lips and whispered, “Right, you barely know the guy. Anyways, why are you asking so much about him? Did he make you into this?”

This?

Wisteria gestured to his flickering form. His conflicted emotions messed up his concentration on maintaining his form. “No, someone else did.”

“Well if you need-”

“Ma..ma.”

Wisteria jumped up from her seat and brushed the hair belonging to her son backwards. She peppered his face with small kisses which caused the little boy to giggle. “Mama, that tickles!” Omen stood up and his heartstring tugged at the childish smile on the boy’s face. This little boy is his little boy. A sudden urge to protect him and the woman felt strong in his soul.

“Wisteria, let Sage know if he needs anything else,” Omen told her and began walking away with heavy footsteps. The door slid open and Wisteria called out to him again, a pretty smile on her tired face, “You can call me [Name].”

Omen hummed and tried her name out, “[Name].” His gravelly voice sent shivers down her spine in a good way and she blushed lightly. Then he gave her a curt nod, “I’ll let the other agents know that Phoenix needs rest and keep an eye on her for you.”

“Thank you.”

#valorant omen #omen x reader #x reader #x female reader #valorant imagine #val imagine

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