For @nightunite. I actually came back with some Seal!Soap and some hurt/comfort of poly!141 x fruit bat!Reader. Hope this is satisfactory
Harbour seal!Soap who’s off the base whenever he can — getting back home as soon as possible, the favourite baby of his mama, the oldest son and pride of his family.
Harbour seal!Soap who has difficulty slotting into most teams, he’s not a pack hybrid, he’s not attuned to the thin threads of connection that wolves or bats or even cows can feel, he’s him and maybe that’s the problem?
Harbour seal!Soap who tries hard to blend in, because he is friendly, of course he is friendly, he’s the friendliest guy on base but whispers are that he smiles too wide, that his laugh is too strained, that his teeth are always out — sharp, menacing things.
Price takes one look at his file and thrusts the pup in Simon’s hands, hums to take care of the seal and Wolf!Simon isn’t even sure what the fuck is he supposed to do.
The lad is jumpy despite obvious brilliance, the lad is trying to smile so hard Simon’s wolf grumbles with the urge to paw at him, press cheeky pup in the ground, teach him some bloody manners. You don’t show your teeth off to the likes of Simon unless you want to have them knocked out.
But Soap wiggles his way in every conversation, eyes shiny and smiles wide up until Ghost corners him, looming like death himself — snarls that if he doesn’t want a big bad wolf to bite him, he’ll fucking stop.
Simon doesn’t know whether to act on his promise or laugh in disbelief when Johnny raises his head and grins wider, now showing off his own canine’s deliberately. Look at that, the pup can bite, can’t he?
Komodo dragon!Price just hums when he finds them tangled in each other and places a bite under Soap’s collar, teeth sinking in warm salty flesh, tongue licking off the blood.
Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy, Price thrives on power — that’s the only thing he won’t compromise on.
Johnny grins and finds way in his arms as well. Too damn bad, captain, too damn bad. Harbour seals thrive on attention.
Their unit is all live wires and sparks and heavy heady tension — air so thick with perpetual hunger that they could carve their initials inside of a little heart.
It gets easier when Kyle arrives — he takes away some of the tension, he gets each of them, catching up on everything twice as fast as Soap did.
It scratches Johnny the wrong way, makes a sensitive small part of him whine that this is it, that Kyle will take his place because how can anyone not like Kyle? Kyle is handsome, Kyle is bright and so effortlessly charming Soap wants to whip out little notebook where sergeant speaks.
But at some point Gaz pecks a kiss to his temple and pulls him on the couch of the rec room. Warm, inviting, draping hand over his shoulders — draping wing over both of them.
Soap watches him — teeth sharp, jaws itching to try the pretty wings on the pretty Gaz, head plopping in his lap.
Kyle slots into their team like he always was there — fingers careful in Johnny’s hair, hands warm around Ghost’s shoulders, talons sharp on Price’s skin.
And then you arrive. Little bat with big eyes and big wings and some of the fluffiest hair Soap has ever seen.
You don’t slot in like Gaz, you are a little rougher around the edges, a little awkward with your approaches.
Bats are social creatures but not all of us take the best parts from our hybrid sides.
You are bloody amazing at what you do, your efficiency is not a concern but you don’t wiggle your way right in the team.
You hover on the outside, you eat your fruits alone (he isn’t even sure why you even eat them? Aren’t bats carnivores? Maybe you just like them) and in the dark, you watch them — always in the periphery of the vision. But never too close.
You remind Soap himself.
Small childish part of him wants to keep things that way, small childish part of him doesn’t like new people on the team, doesn’t like sharing attention.
But you don’t ask for any. You are just there.
It takes him month and a half and a stupid joke Ghost makes about vampires for you to reply that you are a) vegetarian b) a fruit bat and not a spectral bat for Soap to feel like someone kicked him in the face. Simon pauses, tilting head to the side, his tail stopping its friendly wag.
Your smile is too wide, your teeth are so sharp and you don’t try to fit in.
You try to stay away.
They don’t know you and you just let them know that they don’t. You just let them know that they haven’t tried to know you.
Soap spends the whole evening googling information about your species with Ghost hovering above his shoulder, dark eyes reading faster than Soap scrolls.
The next morning is the first time none of them comments on the amount of fruit you consume for breakfast.
Kyle slots in next to you, murmurs “gorgeous wings, love”, asks if you could help him with preening, offers you company for the morning drills.
Offer makes something in you flutter, sending spark of hope down your chest, your big eyes zeroing on warm friendly Kyle.
(Kyle will never admit how embarrassed he was to realise that you slipped through the cracks. Kyle will never admit that social “bird” part of him croaked with distress when he noticed that you are always a little behind. Never with them.)
Soap feels something in him clench when you glance in his direction and then shake your head at Kyle. Soap knows why you looked at him very very well.
He notices Price with your file in the afternoon, reading glasses on the tip of his nose, tail swaying in with something very similar to agitation. Price doesn’t know how to crack on you, you never fight for his right at the top of the food chain, you never contest his power. He has nothing to bite down on.
Soap isn’t sure you will give captain anything to hook on. Soap isn’t sure you feel like you can.
Johnny finds you late at night, ridiculously big bowl of fruit in your lap, his cheeks burning when your head snaps up at him and you put it away.
He and Ghost used to tease you about the amount of fruits and berries you consumed — you started eating less at dinners with them.
Soap’s throat bobs when he gulps and he shakes his head, plopping himself down on the carpet next to you.
He should have thought you’d find a way to catch up on your meals when no one looks.
When no one can make you feel wrong for eating what you like to eat.
Johnny extends his palm to you. You won’t eat while he’s here but he’d like you to. Maybe you will continue if he asks you to share.
Wikipedia page smacks his brain immediately, reminding that fruit bats eat alone and are very protective of their food.
Bloody awesome, Johnny, you might’ve as well tried to wrestle fruits out of your grip.
But before his panic forces him to hide his palm away you carefully place a date in his palm, your darker claws cool and pointy. Soap doesn’t know why but he stares, eyes gluing to him.
“Can do damage with these, eh?”, he attempts at having conversation, trying not to smile too wide. Not to show off too much teeth.
You hum out “depends” and in demonstration poke a piece of orange, skewing it on a thin claw.
Soap feels his brows arch, leaning closer, unbidden “how many can you stack on ‘em?” leaving his mouth before he thinks.
To his absolute delight you snicker and pass him the bowl.
He spends the rest of the hour stacking pieces of fruit and skewing berries on your claws and watching as you practically inhale them once he’s done.
When you two finish up the bowl, you both are covered in juice and are grinning like mad idiots but Soap never felt lighter.
He watches you grin back at him — wide and toothy — and feels something shifting.
Maybe he’s not the pack hybrid like Ghost or doesn’t have Kyle’s easy charm or even John’s acute understanding of dynamics within the team. But he is him and it seems like that’s exactly what you need.
Few months later Soap finds himself with you nuzzled in his neck, Kyle plastered over you two like he’s a big blanket, Simon reading something in the quiet low voice of his and John already crawling into den you call bed.
It’s warm and he’s squished by people who like him from every side and he finally belongs.
Soap presses a kiss to the top of your head and smiles wide when you raise it, giving him a slow sleepy blink. His smiles are wide and toothy.
His smiles are always welcomed with his team.
And so is he.
Request: "Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.” (enemies to lovers vibe)
Summary: In a matter of moments, the man you thought you knew becomes someone you barely know. Desperate to get your attention again, he corners you to find out why.
Warnings: 18+, smut, NSFW, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight praise, angst.
Kinktober MasterList
I avert my gaze as his eyes meet mine across the throne room. All week he’s tried to catch my eye, try talk to me, do whatever he can to get my attention. But having the identity of someone I thought I knew completely flipped definitely had me questioning a lot.
I always knew he kept things from me, unable to tell me everything that was going on with the rebellion. But somehow this hurt more. I remember the way my heart dropped as Mira reacted to seeing him. The recognition in her eyes before anger took over and punched him. And that’s when it clicked. I’d barely seen him around Violet when we’d brought her here. And when I did, I had clearly missed their reunion. But seeing all three of them together had made the pieces all click into place.
I remember the panic in his eyes as he’d looked over and seen me, seen my reaction to what I had figured out. I’d quickly turned and run off, not wanting to talk to him incase I said something I would come to regret later. That was over a week ago.
”We’ll need a volunteer to leave right after this meeting and scout out these locations.” His voice breaking me out of my thoughts.
Garrick goes to raise his hand to volunteer like he always does. “I’ll go,” I call out as I push off the wall, drawing the attention to me.
It wasn’t uncommon for me to go out on patrol when I was here, but I never volunteered first. Usually waiting to see if they needed extra riders.
Brennan goes to object but Xaden cuts him off as he pushes past him to hand me a scroll. “All the locations are listed in there, as well as what we want to confirm. I’d recommend memorising it and disposing of it before you go.”
I don’t meet Brennan’s eye as I take the scroll from Xaden and return to my position on the wall next to Bodhi and Garrick. I feel them eyeing me, clearly noting something was up. But they know better than to question me, knowing it was better to leave me be till I talked to them. Which wasn’t happening any time soon. Not till I was back at least.
As soon as we are dismissed I bolt out the door to go grab my pack from my room. Luckily it was already packed and ready to go, deciding it was better to have it ready in case I needed to leave at a moments notice. And right now I was very much thanking past me for that decision.
My door bangs closed behind me as I kneel on the floor, reaching under my bed for my pack, fingers curling around the leather strap as I pull it from under the bed. I quickly unlatch the top, making sure everything is still there. Satisfied I have everything I need I fasten it closed before grabbing the flight jacket I’d left on my bed this morning.
With both items secured in my hands, I turn to leave the room to make one last pit stop at the kitchens to grab some food and water to tide me over for a day or two. But as I open the door and step into the hallway I collide with something very solid, strong hands grasping my arms to stop me from falling over.
The familiar smell of parchment, mint and a smell I’ve now associated with trees meets my nose. I don’t even have to look up to know who stands in my way, who is holding my arms so tightly it hurts a little.
”You’re not going anywhere till we talk,” he says softly, as if scared I’ll run away. Impossible seeing as he’s blocking the entire doorway, no way for my to sneak past him.
I should have known he would follow me, or at least come here to find me. I should have forgotten my pack and headed straight to the kitchen and my dragon. But I’d come here, just like he knew I would.
He pushes on my arms, guiding us back into my room as he kicks the door closed behind him. I swear I hear it lock into place as I turn and sit on the edge of my bed.
”There’s nothing to talk about.” I mutter, casting my eyes downwards to the floor as I drop my pack next top me with a loud thud.
I hear him exhale loudly, almost like he’s laughing. “I beg to differ love. You’ve been ignoring me all week. You’ll barely look me in the eye.” I feel the bed sink slightly as he sits next to me. “So we need to talk. Please.”
I don’t know why but my anger flairs, more than it has all week. “You want to talk?” I snap back as I stand, turning to look down and meet his eyes for the first time all week. “Fine, lets talk about how I had to find out you aren’t who I thought you were and if it wasn’t for seeing how Mira reacted to you I would have no idea. To me you would still be Brennan Aisereigh, the Lieutenant Colonel I’d started stupidly falling for. But no, you’re the long lost, thought to be dead son of General Lilith Sorrengail, who also happens to be one of the reasons my parents are dead!”
The silence is deafening as we stare at each other, my chest rising and falling heavily as a tear rolls down my cheek. His amber eyes following it as it trails down my cheek before dropping to the floor. I see the sadness and guilt in his amber eyes as they look back up at mine. It makes me want to run into his arms, go back to normal or as close as we can, go back to whatever it was we were doing. But my brain screams at me not to. Feeling betrayed at what I’d learnt.
”I wanted to tell you, trust me I did.” His voice wavering slightly as I scoff at his words, shaking my head in disbelief as I turn away. “But I couldn’t risk it getting out who I really was. Especially if someone got captured.”
I know he’s right. With signets like Dain’s out there, it wasn’t safe to know that kind of information. You could withstand all the torture in the world, and they’d still find out. All that training we get put through would have been for nothing. But it still hurts so much.
I startle as he lays a hand on my shoulder. I go to step away but his hand tightens as he turns me around to face him. Being this close to him makes my heart scream to forgive him, to pull him into an embrace, to take him to my bed and to forgive it all.
”Can you forgive me? I can’t lose you.” He pleads, his hands reaching up to cup my face.
I clamp my eyes shut, releasing a shaky breath as I prepare myself for the words about to leave my mouth. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t.” His hands twitching slightly. No, they’re shaking. And he’s trying to stop it.
He leans his forehead against mine, his head shaking slightly. “Open your eyes.” A slight shake in his voice. “Just look at me.”
I slowly open my eyes, a tear escaping as I look up at him. He must see something in them, the corners of his mouthing curling upwards ever so slightly. A slight spark of hope visible in his amber eyes.
“You can. I can see it. Your eyes are already saying yes.” His thumbs caressing my cheeks. “Now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”
I open my mouth to object, to tell him no. But my words get lost as he brings his lips to mine. At first the kiss is slow, cautious, as if testing out who I’ll react. If I’ll push him away. Or if I’ll pull him in. I feel his body relax, as if sighing with relief when my lips move against his, my hands grabbing onto him. My brain screams at me to stop, but I was gone the second his lips touched mine. The kiss quickly becomes heated, his hands sliding from my face as he starts pulling at my flight leathers, loosening them with ease. I quickly become putty in his hands as his lips leave mine, kissing down my neck so delicately it has me shivering with each kiss.
I go to start removing his clothes, but Brennan’s strong hands grasp mine tightly, halting my movements as he looks down at me, shaking his head slightly. “Not tonight love, this is all about you ok?” All I can manage is a nod, my words lost. “Now take off your clothes.”
Despite halting my attempts to remove his clothes, he removes a few layers before walking backwards, laying down in my bed as his amber eyes wander over me. I do as he says, shrugging out of the leathers he had started to undo, before kicking off my boots to remove my pants, leaving me in just my underwear. I go to remove it, but he shakes his head, motioning with a hand to walk over to the bed.
I walk over to the bed, stopping at the edge as I wait for Brennan to tell me what he wants. He reaches out and takes my hand in his as he pulls me onto the bed, his other hand guiding my leg so I straddle him over his chest. I look down at him confused, unsure why he’s positioned me so high up. My confusion doesn’t last long, Brennan shuffling down on the bed so he rests right between my legs. I go to protest, but my words die on my tongue as he rips my underwear, tossing them aside before he dives between my legs.
”Oh fuck.” I exclaim loudly, a hand fisting in Brennan’s curls as his tongue delves between my folds.
He lets out a deep groan as my fingers tighten in his hair, the vibrations sending shivers through my body, amplifying the feeling of his tongue between my legs. His hands grip my hips tightly, pulling me further onto this mouth, giving him better access.
It’s not long before I succumb to the pleasure, my hips grinding down on his face earning another deep groan from Brennan as his fingers dig more into the flesh of my hips as he feasts on me like a starved man. His tongue swirling and flicking over my sensitive spots in the best way, obscene sounds filling the room.
”You taste so good my love.” He mumbles against me as he pulls back slightly, placing a kiss to my inner thigh.
I feel him chuckle as my hips seek out his mouth again, wanting to feel him between my legs again. This time his mouth seeks out my clit, his tongue flicking across the sensitive nub causing a shiver which nearly as me clamping my thighs around his head.
”Oh gods, yes!” I cry out as his fingers join the mix, pumping in and out of me.
I feel the it building inside of me, the coil building up tightly, ready to uncoil at any moment. My walls clamping down around his fingers as he curls them in just the right way to have me gasping and moaning. I whimper as Brennan removes his fingers from inside me, slowly circling around my entrance as he teases me, denying me of the climax I now desperately want as I try to sink back down on his fingers.
”P-please Bren.” I plead as he moves his fingers away again as I try seek them out.
”Only if you forgive me.” He teases, turning his head to nip softly at the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
I nod feverishly down at him, desperate to finish. Desperate to feel his fingers inside me. “Yes. I forgive you.”
”That's my girl.”
I gasp loudly as his fingers push back inside me, pumping in and out faster than before, his lips latching around my clit as his tongue resumes the familiar rhythm I’ve grown to love. My body is quick to respond, the coil tightening in me again, my hips grinding back and forth to chase more. And as he curls his fingers inside me, the coil unravels. Clamping down around his fingers as my orgasm rips through me. His name falling from lips as I fall apart above him. His tongue and fingers not letting up as they milk my orgasm from me. Slowly my orgasm subsides, Brennan sliding back up the bed as he pulls me against him, cradling me against his chest as his hands rub up and down my back.
”Told you I’d get your mouth to forgive me.”
@strangeeaglepost @puttyly @kyl13sm1l3y @wildflowermooon @oliviajm21 @honethatty12 @lesehexe @violent-little-thing @softodettes @marrianena @idkimjusthere100
Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???
AN: Been a while since I watched it but this was fun to write ☺️ virgin!fem!reader
The backseat to Lando’s Range Rover was spacious and you stretched your legs out to settle in for the drive. A snow storm had grounded the planes in London and Lando had offered to put you both up for the night. As Charles assistant you had tried your best to find a hotel but with Christmas right around the corner everything decent was booked out.
Lando had said to call him if you ever needed anything, but you hadn’t been brave enough to use it until now.
“Are you sure it’s okay to drive in the snow?”
“It’s 4 wheel drive,” Lando replied as he looked at you in the rear view mirror and reassured you with a smile. “We’ll be fine, but if we get stuck at least we can huddle for warmth.”
Your eyes widened at the departing wink in the mirror and your cheeks could have melted all the snow within the greater London area. It would have been a service to the city worth a damehood by the King himself.
“Stop teasing my assistant, Lando,” Charles said with a laugh. “She accidentally deleted my calendar the last time you flirted with her.”
You wanted to argue but he had left you so frazzled you hit the wrong buttons on your iPad. It had been mortifying and the fact your boss was bringing it up again only made you slink lower in the leather seat. It was hard enough to work with such a handsome man, but the fact that his friends that he competed against were just as handsome made your life much harder. At least Charles paid you so there was a line of employee/employer relationship that kept things professional, but there was still the occasional comment that crossed that line - and you never knew how to handle it. Mostly, your brain just shut down.
Shoving your AirPods in, you started to open Spotify to find a distraction from your embarrassment and they both noticed it.
“I can’t help it, you cannot tell me that you don’t find the innocent vibe hot?”
Your fingers froze over the song you were about to play and realised they thought you were already listening to something.
“She’s my assistant.”
“That’s not a denial.” Lando was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet she’s still a virgin.”
You spluttered indignantly and both men looked at you, Charles over his shoulder and Lando in the mirror. Tugging the AirPods out you narrowed your eyes and lied, “I am not a vir-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it but you swallowed and took another attempt, “virgin.”
The weak lie caused a crack in the press of lips, until both men laughed outright. Huffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. “Does it really even matter?”
“Aren’t you even curious?” Lando shot back.
“I know all about sex, for Christ’s sake, I do read.”
“I’m not sure reading is quite the same as doing in this case,” Charles said, remembering the many times he caught you slamming a book closed at his entrance. He was even more intrigued about those thick volumes now.
“Reading doesn’t threaten to leave me disappointed as I have heard men tend to do.”
Lando scoffed and shook his head. “I haven’t had that complaint. Charles?”
“No, no complaints either.”
“I’m sure it’s less romantic than the books describe too, like kissing. What is so good about possibly chipping a tooth, or sharing saliva?”
The SUV screeched to a halt into a rest stop and Lando turned in his seat. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Charles asked, before he turned and saw the telltales signs of your discomfort. “No, really? How? You are beautiful.”
Your mind went to that place of thoughtlessness, where every neurotransmitter misfired and your heart seemed to find itself beating in two places. “Uh…” you scrambled for an answer that they patiently waited for. “I don’t have any time to date so it just hasn’t come about.”
Charles certainly utilised your availability to be on call 24/7 but he hadn’t thought about the personal cost that took on you. He assumed you didn’t have or want a social life, not that he was the cause for it. Maybe that was why he next words slipped out without censoring, or so he told himself. “I will kiss you, right now.”
“Or I can, and I’m not your boss so there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it,” Lando countered, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Everyone deserves a perfect first kiss.”
You gripped the seatbelt across your chest as you tried to understand why they were both unbuckled and opening their doors. Cold air rushed in as both backdoors opened and they slipped in beside you, mist billowing from their breath before the warmth was sealed inside once more.
Your lips felt dry and they watched as the tip of your tongue peeked out between to wet them. Your fingers were gently pried off the belt until each hand was laced with theirs but you still stared ahead at the unhappy quiet road. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”
Lando scoffed but Charles turned you to face him with one curled finger under your chin and a look that made breathing impossible. “Then tell me you don’t want to be kissed,” he whispered as his lips drew nearer, his breath fanning your cheek. The touch of his lips were chaste at best, a caress on cheek before trailing closer to the place where words failed. Your toes clenched in your boots and you trembled with anticipation until the air burst back into your burning lungs. Your lips parted with the intake and he struck.
Your stomach that had been knotted suddenly erupted in the explicable feeling you had only read about. Butterflies, chaotic and energetic, fluttered joyously around your insides and a foreign sound escaped your lips that danced with his.
“I think she likes that, Charles.” A hand on your throat stole you from the taste that you certainly wanted more of and when you opened your eyes you found the pair change from green to blue. “My turn, gorgeous.”
Lando didn’t tease. His hand squeezed and you gasped in response, a sound so similar to what Charles had drawn from you. He took the opening you gave him and devoured you with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue dominated yours as he tipped your head back and deepened the kiss further until you were certain you were going to be consumed by him.
You welcomed it.
You weren’t adept enough after two kisses to know whose was better, both left you yearning for more. But they were parked on the side of the road and you were all too well aware that losing your virginity in the back seat of a Ranger was not what you wanted. Even if your body screamed yes.
“How do you feel?” Charles asked as he eyed your swollen lips and your dilated pupils between your flustered blinks with pride.
“Uh…” You told yourself to think but it was nearly impossible, and the men chuckled with the knowledge they had kissed you stupid.
“Just think of what other ‘firsts’ we could be,” Lando offered as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip, wanting another taste. “We could be snowed in for a while.”
“Wait, what?” They cut through your mental haze with clarity and you sat up straighter. “No, the airport said tomorrow…”
Charles shrugged and your brows pinched. “The storm’s worsening, it might be a few days until the planes can take off.”
“It’s okay,” Lando assured you with a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll look after you.”
part one. tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. tech analyst!reader. early-s1!spencer. a/n: tech analyst!reader won’t leave my little brain. i hope u like this :) requests are open !
You were 21 when you got recruited into the bureau. Barely a graduate, and already on a FBI watchlist. Honestly, the only reason you’re under their watchful eyes is because of a lapse in judgment.
To celebrate the semester ending, your roommate decided that you both needed to get drunk. Being a psychology major with a pre-med roommate leads to tequila shots in your own dorm room. It’s the convenience and comfort of your own space that got you so drunk. This situation led to this: you admitting to your roommate, with heavy eyes, that you can “hack, you know. I learned when I was 15.”
She sat up from her place on the floor.
“Really? I don’t believe you!” she giggles, and then hiccups.
“I so can!” there’s indignation and a want to prove yourself in the tone of your voice.
“Okay, show me!”
Shuffling on heavy feet, you plop down in front of your laptop. A few clicks and the comforting clacks of your keyboard, and then a window pops open. You look at the wide-gaped mouth of your roommate. “What are you hacking?”
You hum, “I don’t know.”
And then you remember the talk from a few days ago. Two agents from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit came over to your college to talk about criminal profiling to psychology majors and anyone else interested.
Completely inebriated, you manage to hack into their database. Your hazy mind doesn’t forget to compliment the beauty and intricacy of the codes and firewalls you broke down.
At Quantico, Virginia, Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia rushes into her unit chief’s office.
“Sir, somebody is attempting to get into my system. I think they’re trying to communicate?”
Hotch follows Garcia into her office, the quickness of their steps catching the attention of Dr. Spencer Reid who was seated at his desk, skimming over a case report.
When Hotch gets into Penelope’s ‘lair’, his eyes squint, adjusting to the dimmed lights and bright screens. On the main monitor, a window displaying the barebones of a text chat is open.
<ATHEN411> ????
<ATHEN411> hiiiiidfgsd
<YOU> Who is this?
<ATHEN411> ohymgofd i didnt think anyonewould alsnwer
<ATHEN411> wh o it sthis?
<YOU> BAU Section Chief Aaron Hotchner.
<ATHEN411> omfdg i know uuu !! jason mentoined u
<YOU> Jason?
<ATHEN411> yhuhh jason digeon or sumn omg i cant tpoye
<ATHEN411> sorry
<YOU> Jason Gideon? How do you know him?
<ATHEN411 disconnected.>
You’ve completely forgotten about the conversation. Until, a few days later. You’re turning the corner of the hallway to get into your dorm. Backpack slung on a shoulder, arms full of your laptop, binders and a soft-bound copy of your final paper. You stop in your tracks when you see two men stationed outside your room’s door.
One man was in a shirt, jeans, and combat boots. He also had sunglasses on. The other had a permanent furrow to his brows, dressed formally in a suit and tie.
“Hi, can I help you?” you ask, hand reaching into your hoodie pocket for your keys and pepper spray.
The one in sunglasses holds up a badge and ID.
“FBI. I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Hotchner. Are you Y/N L/N?”
You gulp, wondering why they knew your name.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
Your bring out your keys, and you notice how Agent Hotchner eyes the pepper spray keychained to it.
“Um, yeah. We can talk inside? My roommate’s still out.”
You unlock your door and walk in, the agents following in after you. Dropping your bag on your desk chair, you turn to ask the agents, “How can I help you?”
Agent Hotchner asks, “Are you familiar with the name athen-four-one-one?”
You look up at them guilty.
“It’s athena-eleven.”
“So, it’s you?” Agent Morgan clarifies.
“Yes. How did you find me?”
The two men share a glance. A silent conversation passing with you unknowing.
“Two nights ago, you hacked into the BAU’s database.”
You look at them in suprise, “I did?”
“Yes,” Agent Hotchner says, passing a folder to you. Inside are images and a transcript of messages shared between a ‘P.GARCIA’ and ‘ATHEN411’.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, realizing what’s happening.
“I was drunk off my ass two nights ago! I’m so sorry,” that catches Agent Morgan’s attention.
“You were drunk?”
“Yeah, my roommate and I were celebrating our exams. I didn’t… Am I in trouble?”
Agent Hotchner raises a hand in a placating gesture, “You were drunk when you hacked into the bureau’s database?” Confusion and slight amusement evident in the tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” you confess, “It was just a dare! I don’t even remember much of it.”
Agent Morgan looks as if he doesn’t know what to think about the situation. You feel the same. Agent Hotchner extends a hand to get the file back from you, and you give it to him easily.
“Would you go with us back to the station?”
“What? For what? Am I being sued?”
“The opposite. I would like to conduct a proper interview.” Agent Hotchner explains.
“An interview? For what?”
“A job as a technical analyst at Quantico.”
You look at them, eyes furrowing in confusion and disbelief, “What? I can’t!”
“Why not?”
You gesture toward your desk, “I still have a paper to pass!”
Meeting Penelope Garcia was like a dream come true.
“I should have realized! The triple-stacked firewall should’ve been so obvious! The Black Queen signature!”
The blonde’s eyes sparkle, happy to meet a match.
“Athena-Eleven! I didn’t even notice you were in my systems until you sent your first message.”
You feel your chest puff up at the indirect praise.
“You were one of my idols,” you admit, “Your exposé on Griffith Industries was just… stunning! Absolutely flawless. You had a section in your code that I used to build my private server—” Agent Hotchner interrupts your spiel.
He gestures to the rest of the room, where agents were seated at a round table.
“This is Y/N L/N, the unit’s newest technical analyst. ” he says, and you give a shy wave. You get a wave back from the agent wearing glasses. He’s cute. Have you seen him before?
“This is Jennifer Jareau, our communications liaison,” you shake her outstretched hand. She’s so pretty, you start to think, gorgeous blue eyes too.
“You’ve met Derek Morgan,” Agent Hotchner says, and Agent Morgan gives a two finger salute, his hands wrapped around a coffee cup.
“Agent Jason Gideon,” you return his handshake, mumbling a shy; “Hello, sir. Nice to see you again.”
And then, “This is Dr. Spencer Reid—”
“Oh! You were with Agent Gideon at the seminar! You talked a bit about geoprofiling, and how an unsub’s subconscious can’t help but stick close to home, which helps you triangulate the—” Agent Hotchner lets out another soft cough.
“Um, yeah. I did. Nice to meet you,” he gives another small wave, smile close-lipped and awkward. Endearing. He’s really cute. “I don’t really shake hands.”
You nod, “I get that, germs and stuff. It’s actually, weirdly, safer to kiss.”
You don’t see the way JJ and Derek look at each other, nor do you notice when Penelope whispered, “Oh my God, there’s two of them.”
“Your code name, it’s for the Athena, right? The Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicraft?” Dr. Reid asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Yeah. I love greek mythology.”
He gives you a smile, “I do, as well. I’m wondering about the eleven though. Does it mean anything?”
You tsk’d through your teeth, “The angel number 1111’s often seen as a spiritual wake-up call and awakening. I thought it was fitting, and I was 15 when I chose the name, okay? Excuse little old me.”
“That’s cool,” Dr. Reid admits. If he remembers your file right, you were barely 17 when you became a trademark and known name in underground hacking circles. He can’t properly meet your eyes, struck in awe. Athena. It’s perfect for you.
“Y/N formally starts her job with us in three days,” Hotch informs the team, “Be kind.”
With a final word, Gideon and Hotch start to return to their offices.
Derek straightens from his position on the office chair. “I am very kind!”
“He didn’t say anything about you,” Penelope teases.
“Ooh, that says a lot, Morgan. It says so much,” JJ teases back.
You smile at them, your new co-workers, taking the seat JJ was gesturing at for you. The three continue bickering, you start to tune them out as you make eye contact with Dr. Reid. The apple of his cheeks blush red, and you can’t stop the grin on your lips from getting wider. He’s downright enchanting.
Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (featuring Zoyalai x Reader and some GenyaDavid x Reader)
My Masterlist
All That Glitters [18+]
Zoya finally convinces you to join her friends for drinks, but you know that she’s not-so-subtly trying to introduce you to Aleksander and Alina.
Golden Hour [18+]
Alina and Aleksander are rather taken by you, and your presence in their lives becomes a source of frustration that wears away their restraint day by day. They both intend for you to be theirs.
Like A Diamond [18+]
Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond. He gifts you one which then prompts an unofficial initiation into Ravka’s most exclusive group of socialites.
Toying with You [18+]
After spending the night at Nikolai and Zoya’s house, you wake between Aleksander and Alina. It isn’t long before their hands begin to wander.
Secret [18+]
As the three of you grow closer together, Alina wants to know you like no one else does.
you’re new to barbie land. but you aren’t a barbie, you’re a y/n. just y/n. you were made to be barbies best-friend.
you’re the only variable, just like him. which instantly catches his attention.
he likes that you don’t have a ken. he often got lonely in barbie land. even midge had someone.
he never really got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. but he didn’t need to! you did asked him instead.
he liked you didn’t care about his ‘weirdness’ and even went along with his weird dancing, encouraging his weird stories with a soft, “and then what allan?”
when he saved barbie land, he couldn’t be more pleased.
he was a little sad you were unfortunately one of many who got brain-washed, but he was happy you were one of the first to be fixed. hugging you and thanking gloria.
after barbie land was restored, you asked if he wanted to move into your dream-house.
ofcourse he said yes. and your days were spent like every other day.
him being allan. and you loving him for it.
House of the Dragon characters x Sick!Reader
Alicent makes sure you have everything that you need & that you're comfortable.
She'll tuck you into bed when it's time for you to sleep, fluff out your pillows, and feeds you herself.
She prays every night & makes her children pray before every meal to wish you a quick recovery.
Alicent would rather no one visits you while your sick - especially Rhaenyra - because she doesn't want anyone to disturb you or for the sickness to spread.
Helaena likes to sit next to your bed and embroider, comfortable listening to your breathing while you rest.
She'll embroider a bug that reminds her of you in hopes to make you feel better.
When she can't visit you, she'll leave one of her bug friends to keep you company :)
Aegon can't stay away from you even when your sick.
He doesn't care if he also catches your fever.
He'll sleep on the same bed as you & try to cuddle with you, even when you tell him not to, worried that he'll also get sick.
Alicent has kicked him out of your chambers multiple times, scolding him not to bother you.
Aemond likes to read to you. Preferably stories about the Targaryen Ancestors.
He'd sit next to your bed while you sleep, so he can make sure nothing will happen to you during the night. One of the candles will be left lit so he can read one of his history books.
If you refuse to take your medicine the maester had given you, Aemond bribes you with rides on Vhagar.
Rhaenyra & Daemon usually visit you together.
Daemon will sit in a chair close to your bed, while Rhaenyra sits on the bed.
Rhaenyra will tell tell you about the gossip she's heard in court while Daemon brushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead - he keeps it there almost the whole visit.
They'd both get really stressed if you weren't getting better - but worse.
Especially Daemon after what's happened with his brother.
Daemon will threaten the maester. If the maester can't help you get better, he'll find someone who will.
Rhaenyra is more patient and will try calm Daemon down.
(siren/mermaid reader x simon “ghost” riley written on a whim and a rush)
There’s a silence that only the sea understands; a quiet lull between the crash of waves and the breath of something other watching from below.
You rise just before the tide turns.
Water beads like silver across your shoulders, trailing rivulets down the curves of your scaled skin. The moonlight paints you in cold beauty- sharp and soft, haunting. Your hair drips with salt and secrets. Your tail, dark as the ocean trench and rimmed with glints of blue, curls beneath the surface like a big, lazy question mark.
The boat creaks as you settle on the edge of it, arms resting on the slick wood, claws tapping like soft bells.
And there he is; the one man you cannot drown. Ghost, you’d heard the other fishermen call him. Simon, the seas whispered to you.
You’ve tried. Not out of malice, not really. You’ve never spared the ones who drift too close- those ruddy-faced tourists with their cheap beer and loud mouths, hearts too full of their own importance to sense the predator beneath the waves even when the locals who’ve seen you sinking down whole ships are the ones to warn them. Their skulls now rest in coral nests far below. A song, a smile, a brush of your fingers on their dreams- that’s all it ever took.
But him?
The first time you sang to Simon, he didn’t blink. He didn’t bleed from the ears or follow you into the rocks like a lamb, did not give into the sweet song of death. He just looked at you- as if he knew your song already.
You wish it had ended there, but no. No. He did much worse, he had even freed you-
You can still remember the trap. Rusted iron strung between two forgotten pylons, slick with barnacles and hunger. It had snapped tight around your waist as you’d swum through a kelp forest, cutting into your flesh with a mechanical groan that still makes your bones ache. You’d thrashed, thrashed until your voice broke against the water, until your blood painted the reeds crimson. And then- he had been there. Still, unafraid, with dark eyes peering at you.
He didn’t speak. Just waded into the cold, metal snips in hand, and cut you loose. You had stared at him, weak and trembling, the tide lapping red around you.
That was years ago. And ever since, you come to him. Not always. Never with warning.
Only when the moon calls.
Tonight, it hangs low and red like an omen. The kind that makes fish leap onto shore and birds fly inland, and a different type of hunger coil like eels in youe stomach. Blood moon, the fishermen call it. She will be hunting, they had said. And most know to stay far away when it rises. When you rise.
But not Simon. Never him.
Simon stands on his boat, the Wretch’s Mercy, steady as stone. He doesn’t flinch when you breach the surface, eyes gleaming like polished bullets. Doesn’t reach for the knife on his hip, even if you think he should. He is too defenseless; it takes the taste out of food.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d show.” He says. His voice is low and dry as cracked rope, wrapped in northern smoke and salt.
He’s wearing the same black mask, the white skull painted across it like a silent threat. But his eyes- those ever-watchful eyes- glint amber in the dark. Not human. Not quite. How have you never noticed it before?
“I don’t perform on demand,” you purr, tail flicking. “There are no fools in the water tonight.”
“No,” he agrees. “Only monsters.”
You bare your teeth in something like amusement, too sharp to be called a smile. “… You’ve never feared me, sailor. Why?”
Simon shrugs, tugging gently at a net as it coils along the deck. “Yer not the scariest thing I’ve come across, love. Not by a long shot.”
You lean forward, hair dripping over your chest, your irises dark as shipwrecks. You swear your teeth ache with the need to bite into him. “Do they know what you are?”
Simon finally looks at you- really looks.
There’s no shock in his face. No hesitation.
“Who, the locals?” he says, low. “They think I’m just a fisherman that won’t bloody die.”
You study him, the way his broad shoulders roll with the boat, how his body moves with the tide instead of against it. Like you.
“You smell like the deep,” you whisper at last. “Like volcanic vents and whale bone. You’re not surface-made.”
Silence stretches between you. It’s the same quiet the ocean gives before it devours something.
He steps forward, towards you. “You’re not wrong.”
You blink. Your claws curl slightly into the wood. “Then why pretend?”
“Because monsters scare off the catch.”
You laugh- low, velvety, the sound of waves lapping at a sailor’s final breath. But your voice softens then. “You could have let me die.”
He’s close now. Close enough to touch. The net dangles loose in his hands. “Didn’t want to,” he says simply. “Didn’t feel right.”
“Why?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “You’re mine.”
That words stir, primal in your chest. Something that snarls and sings and sinks ships into the bottomless ocean.
“You think you can keep me?”
His hand reaches up- not fast, not rough- just firm. His fingers trail along your damp jaw, calloused thumb stroking the corner of your lip. You don’t pull away, and you don’t bite, even though you should.
But your heart stutters like a dying gull anyways.
“I don’t think,” he murmurs, voice deeper now, trenches miles below. “I know.”
You stare at him, senses drinking him in- his scent, his heat, the thrum of something old and hungry beneath his skin. You lean in, then, lips nearly brushing his, your breath a chill against his mask.
“When the time comes,” you whisper, voice of broken shells and broken vows. “You’ll have to catch me.”
Simon’s smile beneath the mask is something no man should wear. It is something no man would wear- but another deep water monster would.
“Oh, I will. When you follow me down, you won’t want to come back up.”
hiii could you please write something where reader doesn’t know ethan is gf and during sex he slips up and is like “ i would kill for you” or something like that and reader just thinks he’s being passionate but he’s being serious lol
he's fucking you so passionately, hips meeting yours with deep thrusts, his face hovering above yours so you can feel his warm breath against your nose and lips. he has a hand pressed into the pillow above your head, the other clinging onto your waist until you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin.
"fuck, you feel so good," he tells you, his voice a little shaky but missing that whimper-y edge you're so used to. although, you're whimpering enough for the both of you, your sounds broken up with breaths that come from the harsh thrusts ethan's giving you.
"s...so do you," you compliment, but your words are butchered and it takes a few moments to get the three words out. ethan's lip curls up into a smile and you try to reflect the expression, but his cock angles just right and your mouth falls open in a moan instead.
your eyes pinch shut, but you quickly reopen them to look at ethan. the way his cheeks are flushed, how pink his lips are, his long eyelashes framing doe eyes that are lidded as he stares down at you. his hair bounces with each thrust, and your sudden desire to dig your nails into the locks overcomes you until your limbs react before your brain realizes it.
ethan sighs into the feeling, his thrusts faltering for just a second. "i ..." he stutters, hesitates, then tries again. "i would kill for you," his hand on your waist slides up until it sits below the column of your throat, splayed across your collarbones. you tilt your chin up as a way to give him permission, then his hand slides up to gently wrap around your throat, not squeezing. "you understand that?"
you nod, even though in this state you don't really understand. but your eyes are so watery and your eyebrows are pinched and you look so sincere so ethan leans down and presses his lips to yours.
"i mean that," he whispers, but you're lost in the moment, reaching your peak, nonverbally begging for ethans help to get you there. with his undying love and obsession for you in his mind, he helps you reach your climax until you're clenching around him, bringing him to his peak as well.
puki I failed my drivers test because I saw a cute dog and missed a turn wtf do I do :(((((
First you see a cute dog and miss a turn, next thing you know you see a cute dog and you're T-boning a family of four across the intersection. Cute dogs are for a time and a place.
Aug 2019
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