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#and it was just really nice and familiar and comforting :)
qlossytbh · 2 days
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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you get an unexpected visitor at headquarters after one of your old high school friends was murdered and rossi has ideas as to how to catch the killer.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 usual criminal minds content, mentions of killers, mentions of a phsycotic killer :D, mentions of murder, mentions of underage drinking (if i’m missing anything pls let me know)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.4k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 we’ve finally got our first flashback ;) i know it’s kinda slow but we will get more spencer x you content in the next chapter, pinky swear. also this is kinda wordy but whatever
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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"Come on, it's not that bad!" You smiled, pushing at Spencer's shoulder as he took a sip of your coffee, face screwing in disgust. "You're such a baby."
"No," He disagreed, voice hoarse as he handed you your coffee back. "That is disgusting."
"Just because it doesn't have about 3 pounds of sugar," You taunted, looking down at his mug with disapproval. "All that sugars gonna' catch up to you one day you know."
"Actually," He started and you felt yourself beginning to groan. "White sugar is a type of carbohydrate that provides energy to the body so what happens is the body breaks down sugar into glucose that can be readily used for energy and to carry out various functions. It improves brain functioning—"
"Spence, it's eight in the morning," You said, resting your forehead on his arm. "As much as I care about you, you are not allowed to go wikipedia on me at this time."
He stifled a laugh, glancing down at you with a soft smile. He took no offense to what you were saying since he knew your favorite thing was to listen to him. You pulled away, taking a sip of your coffee. You looked up at him, opening your mouth to speak but being abruptly interrupted as the kitchen door burst open, causing you to jump and stain your white blouse with coffee.
You looked down at the shirt, hissing in complaint. "Are you fucking—"
You turned, face twisted with anger. Spencer shrank at your demeanor looking over at the door to see who was about to receive the latter end of your anger. He took a sip of his own coffee when he saw  Derek standing by the door. The anger in you began bubbling even closer against the surface. "Really Derek?!"
Just as you were about to scold him even more for being such a brute at eight am, you noticed the features in his face laced with an all too familiar tensity. Realization dawned upon you. He started "Looks like we've got a visitor,"
You watched him, glancing briefly back at Spencer before setting your mug down. "And they're asking for you."
The case currently at hand, although pinching a little too close to your past then comfortable, wasn’t overwhelming you. It made you fidgety and a little more anxious than usual, sure, but you weren't overwhelmed by it. All it did was irritate you, how you always tried so hard to keep your past out of your present, and the present away form the past.
All you wanted, was to find the UnSub and move on. Still, you sighed heavily, popping out of the nice bubble Spencer and you had isolated yourselves in. You left your coffee mug long forgotten as you followed Morgan out of the room and across the hall, Spencer following very closely behind.
"A girl who barged in here, asking for you," Derek explained. You continued your stride across the hall, wondering who could possibly be asking for you. "She said she doesn't wanna' answer any questions until she's spoken to you,"
"Does it have to do with our recent case?" You asked, knowing otherwise but still hoping the answer was no. When Derek's lips pulled into a tight line, you sighed in disappointment letting your shoulders slump. Just as you rounded the main hall, you saw a familiar mop of red hair ranting at Hotch in a blazing fury. You froze in your tracks, almost causing Spencer to knock into you. You watched as she pointed her finger at Hotch, stress, and anxiety written all across her face.
"Claire..?" You said, voice barely above a whisper. All the anger in her face untwisted as she turned to you, her features suddenly soft and all too familiar. She hadn't changed a bit in the ten years you haven't seen her.
"Oh my god," She said, relief flooding her voice as she rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. You remained still, not reciprocating the affectionate gesture as Hotch eyed you from behind her with a questioning look. You shrugged slightly at him, remaining completely neutral.
"I can't believe it," She said, voice soft as she pulled away, grabbing you by your shoulders. You noticed the eye bags and the panicky look in her eyes and suddenly things started clicking for you.
Back in high school, you, Easton, and Claire had been each other's rocks, always going everywhere together and relying on each other greatly. The three of you were best friends and you had been for all four years of high school. After what happened during and after your senior year, you fell out with the two of them and continued your advanced studies, not necessarily making any time to ever see both of them again.
Claire had always been the mediator in the trio. You always felt closer to her than you ever did to Easton. Claire always listened, and she gave the right advice when you needed it. You would've loved staying friends with her after highschool, but since she was so close to Easton, it remained impossible. You'd be lying if you said that seeing her again after all this time didn't tug at the strings of your heart in the slightest.
"You haven't changed a bit," You said, giving her a small smile. She did look the same, all of her sharp features still in tact the same way they were back then. There was a silence. She looked behind you momentarily and you turned, realization hitting you. "Shit, uhm—“
You turned, causing her hands to fall from your shoulders. "This is SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Aaron Hotchner and Dr. Spencer Reid,"
You introduced everyone, pointing at each of your co-workers referringly, to which each responded with a small nod or smile. Her gaze lingered on Spencer, who stood closely beside you. She smiled politely at them all, apprehension still laced in her gaze.
"It sucks that our reunion has to be under such shitty circumstances," She laughed, hugging herself protectively. The humor hadn't quite reached her eyes which caused you to shoot her an empathetic look.
"How are you holding up?" You asked. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She sighed heavily, reaching up to cover her face with her hands. She shook her head.
"I cant believe any of it," She sighed, looking like she hasn't had a single ounce of sleep in days. "It seems like just yesterday she was coming back from her honey moon and now, she just—“
You felt for her, you really did. Even if you and Easton had your own history, you knew her and Claire remained great friends after high school. You didn't know they had still been friends after all of these years though. "Were you at the wedding?"
"I was her maid of honor,"
Oh,
"We're very sorry for your loss," Spencer added. You looked over at him, smiling sadly and appreciating his efforts to be empathetic with her. You reached out, rubbing the side of her arm. She smiled at the two of you weakly. "I'm sure this is all extremely hard on you."
She reached up, rubbing her eyes rapidly, as if trying not to get sensitive in front of everyone. It was understandable, suddenly being surrounded by people she had no clue of, and losing someone close to you is not easy and it could be very overwhelming.
You looked over at Hotch before starting. "We're trying our hardest to figure out who could have done this to them,"
"Do you mind coming in for some questioning?" You asked. Claire looked over at Hotch apprehensively, clearly not approving of him.
"We think you can help us determine if there was anyone that may have wanted to intentionally hurt Easton and Michael—" You explained, trying to ease her up. "—And Sarah and Adam.."
She sighed heavily, nodding her head with acceptance "Yeah, that's fine.."
"I promise, we'll catch up afterward," You smiled as Hotch and Morgan guided her towards one of the interrogation rooms. You watched her intently as she walked away. With a beat, you looked down at your watch, huffing quickly and furrowing your brows.
"Must be hard for her," You stated. Spencer took notice of how unbothered you seemed, and he didn't skip out on calling you out.
"And what about you..?" Spencer asked curiously, shoving his hands into his pocket and staring you down from his spot next to you. You turned to him, tilting your head.
"What?" You asked.
He shrugged, looking to the side momentarily. "For a case hitting so close to home, it would be normal for this to affect you,"
You pursed your lips and responded truthfully. "It doesn't,"
Spencer looked you in the eye and did what he always tried doing when he suspected something was up with you. He tried profiling you, something that with time, you knew how to fight against, especially when it came from Spencer. His brows crinkled with a familiarity that was only present when he was worried about you. You reached up, rubbing your thumb against the furrowed skin of his brows and smoothing it out gently. "You worry too much."
"Haha." He shoved your hand away as you snickered to yourself. You were glad that with everything going on, you could still find the time to laugh. Spencer made that very easy.
"You," You reached up to link your arms with his as you began dragging him down the hall, all the way to Garcia's office. "Are going to accompany me to visit our lovely technical analyst,”
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You watched as both Easton and Claire downed whatever drink it was they had in their hands, music blaring loud and people waltzing around intoxicated at every turn you made. Not completely sober, but not all that drunk either, you found yourself feeling as if yet another Friday night had gone to waste.
"Can you believe we're already seniors?" Easton cheered, throwing her hands around both you and Claire. You stifled a laugh at her slurred voice, knowing the hangover she was bound to have tomorrow was going to be brutal.
"This year is going to be absolutely insane," Claire said, excitement laced in every syllable of her voice. You rolled your eyes and cringed internally, swirling your drink in your hands and debating whether or not you should throw it out since you weren't really in the mood to drink anymore.
You knew you had to get a lot of studying done tomorrow because you were taking some advanced courses that would get you ahead of certain subjects, effectively allowing you to finish the school year earlier and begin your college studies ahead of time.
You had always been very different from Claire and Easton, but you had never seen a problem with it. Claire cheered you on whenever you decided to focus on school work rather than go out on a Friday night, claiming that she could never have your willpower, but Easton always teased you and pushed you to 'let loose'. Of course, you went out with them sometimes, but you also knew when to stay in and focus on yourself, and you never saw that as a crime. It was like enjoying the best of both worlds.
Although lately, going out with Easton felt more like a chore than something you genuinely enjoyed doing.
"Are we finally going to attempt to loosen Y/n up?" Easton shouted over the blasting music, pulling you into a side hug. You laughed awkwardly, a very small feeling of annoyance bubbling in your stomach.
"Oh shush Easton," Claire slapped the girl's arm, rolling her eyes indefinitely. "We know Y/n is going to rock it this year in her own special way."
"Shoving her face into a book isn't my definition of rocking your senior year," Easton added.
"Well shoving my face into someone else's twice a week isn't my definition of rocking my senior year, but you don't see me shaming you, huh?" You bit back, deciding to defend yourself rather than let her step on your toes for what felt like the fifth time this week. You and Easton worked like that. Sometimes it was complicated though, since it was hard to draw the line between teasing and passive-aggressive comments.
"Not my fault you're a prude," You sighed, crossing your arms as she let you go. That's the complicated line you were talking about. Claire shot a disapproving look towards Easton.
"I'm kidding!" She shrugged innocently, holding her hands up in defense. "But like seriously, isn't there anyone that sparks your attention? Not even a little bit?"
You sighed once again, knowing this conversation was popping up. Easton was a very 'out there' person, to say the least. She had a very bad habit of agreeing to hook up with any 'hot man' that breathed. And being part of a private school, everyone seemed to be connected to everyone, somehow. If someone didn't know your business, it was someone else's personal goal that they did, and so the story goes on. And for some peculiar reason, Easton was very vocal and passionate about the fact that you didn't throw yourself at anything that breathed.
"No Easton,"  You set your drink down on the small stool that was available right beside you, not in the mood to drink at all anymore. "Just like I said last time you asked me."
"What about Henry? He seems cool," She pursed her lip in thought. Claire's face twisted with disapproval.
"Henry's a total jerk," Claire warned. Easton sighed in defeat and began scanning the room attentively. You watched her, unamused and annoyed, up until her face popped with excitement.
"Wait a second," She said, reaching out for your arm and pulling you in closer to whisper. "What about the guy in white, over by the kitchen aisle that's practically drooling at the sight of you?"
You deadpanned at Easton but looked in the direction she pointed to anyway. As you looked over, your eyes suddenly fell on a man in a white-clad t-shirt, who was in fact, looking over at you with deep curiosity. You suddenly, for the first time in who knows how long, felt nervous under the gaze of a man. He smiled at you softly from the other point of the room, to which you uncontrollably returned and your heart flipped inside your chest. Just as you opened your mouth to protest, the man began making his way over to the three of you.
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You had spent all afternoon skipping through file after file and picture after picture with Garcia and Spencer, while Hotch and Morgan interviewed Claire. Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss called you every few hours to dump more newly acquired information on the victimology report based on what they were seeing over at the crime scene. Your brain was practically about to melt out of your ears. The comfort of the conference room chair seemed overwhelming once you sat down, finally giving your back a break.
Claire had left headquarters just only a few hours ago which now left you all to lay out and create a new profile. Everyone sat at the table until Hotch and Morgan walked into the room.
"We've interviewed Claire Thomspon for more accurate victimology reports and further insight on our Unsub's possible motives for killing both pairs of victims," Morgan stated, rubbing his chin absentmindedly. "Claire declared that Easton had various romantic and sexual relations during high school and every relationship she started was as soon as she ended a previous one,"
"So enraged ex that most probably wanted revenge?" Prentiss said.
"But then what connection would Sarah and Adam have to the murders?" You asked, furrowing your brows in contemplation.
"His murdering methods reflect his psychological state and motivations. For example, if he meticulously plans and execute his killings with precision and calculation, which clearly isn't the case here, it could suggest a need for control and dominance, but since his methods are more frenzied and impulsive, it could indicate overwhelming emotions, and a lack of impulse control." Spencer explained, looking over at you. You nodded, glancing down at the file report and scribbling something across the side of it.
"Meaning Sarah and Adam could've just been collateral damage," You finished, looking back up at him from your seat across him. He nodded.
"If this is revenge, the Unsub may experience, intense feelings of powerlessness, and a need to exert control over others as a way to cope with his emotional pain. Slaughtering married couples could serve as a twisted form of retribution symbolizing the perceived betrayal and abandonment he experienced." Spencer continued, hands dancing around freely, something that always happened when Spencer talked on like this, he was very expressive with his hands.
"By targeting couples, he may be projecting his own feelings of envy and resentment towards those who have found happiness and stability in their relationships." You completed, giving Spencer a proud smile.
And this is exactly why Hotch thinks the two of you work best together, it’s as if your minds were synchronized and every blossoming thought was finished by the other.
"Do we have any leads?" JJ asked.
"We've asked Garcia to pull up some names of people who have a past with Easton." Morgan explained with ease, you looked down once again.
"That's gonna be a long list," You mumbled, low enough for anyone to hear.
It was true though. You weren't shaming her for sleeping around. It was simply a reality that she broke a lot of egotistical men and saw having sex with them as a way of feeling good about herself. You even heard her say once that 'men were just trophy's waiting to be collected by her'. It worked, she felt amazing about herself, and she truly had any man she ever wanted.
"So what would you say our profile is?" Rossi finally spoke up, being awfully quiet as he silently drew his own conclusions.
Hotch began. " We're looking for a 27-year-old male with an unremarkable, physical appearance, something that allows him to blend in with the general population."
You allowed yourself to think back on your past, dwelling if you remembered anyone that might fit the Unsub report.
"He maintains a fit or athletic build which helps him overpower his victims and he leads a relatively solitary existence, avoiding social interactions." He continued in a serious demeanor. "He exhibits narcissistic tendencies with a sense of entitlement, believing that he deserves attention or admiration. He's adept at manipulating others and his actions may be driven by impulsive, completely disregarding consequences, leading to reckless behavior."
"He also harbors a severe paranoia, showing irrational fears and suspicion leading to a heightened sense of vigilance and a tendency to see threats where non-existent." Morgan said, closing off as he sat back down into a chair. Rossi pursed his lips in thoughts.
That described about half of your class though— unfortunately. You rubbed your temples, lowering your head and processing the information, trying to rack your brain on anyone viable who gave you 'serial killer vibes' back in the day. You looked back up, and turned your gaze towards Hotch, opening your mouth to speak
"So wait, if our UnSub presents a lack of impulse control, couldn't that mean that he could strike again even if Easton is dead?" You asked. Hotch nodded and you felt your hands begin to grow clammy.
"We asked Garcia to pull out the names of the couples that have been married in the last year or so from the class of North Virginia High School,"
"How many married high school sweethearts are there in one graduating class?" Emily asked, looking over at you in disbelief. You leaned back in your chair and scoffed.
"Our class was compared to an orgy," You stated, an unamused stance settling your gaze. "That says enough,"
You couldn't even count all the people in your class that had either hooked up, had sex, got together or got married, with your two hands. You never understood what the desperation was at the time, apart from the raging hormones— and its not like your class was full of A-list celebrity lookalikes.
Easton had always wanted you to have your fair share of hookups with the guys in your class, but you had fortunately settled your low scale of bodies on a whooping number one. 
"So, we just—" Emily's brows were furrowed deeply. "—wait until our Unsub shows signs of attacking one of our couples?"
Everyone waited for an order. You didnt believe that was the smartest idea, because yet another two people could possibly end up killed if you didnt play your cards right. You felt uneasy as you waited for Hotch to put together a plan that you could all follow, but he even he was struggling to decide how to love on. Suddenly, Rossi's voice cuted through the air.
"No, that would be stupid." He hummed, narrowing his eyes in deep contemplation. "We need someone from the inside."
You stopped, peering intently at Rossi as you gave Morgan a quizzical look, slightly stupefied by Rossi's sudden intervention. He shrugged his shoulders at you, clearly just as lost as you were. Sometimes, it was hard to follow along with Rossi's thought process, which was surprising to say the least, since you completely understood Spencers.
"We could use you, as a decoy," He said, cutting his gaze over to you and pointing a finger. You froze in your seat, shrinking at the sudden call out. You choked on your own breath, being completely taken off-guard by him. Not because you didn't have it in you to go undercover but because—
"Uh—" You cleared your throat, coughing once or twice. "Sir, I'm not married..."
"Yet." Was all Rossi said.
You tilted your head, truly not getting a single word coming from this man's mouth "Come again?"
Everyone shared dumbstruck looks. When you looked over at Spencer, he was just as confused as you were. You shared a silent conversation but all you could answer with were confused shrugs. Hotch looked ahead, suddenly seeming to grasp onto Rossis implications.
"You mentioned Claire was still in contact with many of your ex-classmates, right?" Hotch asked. You pursed your lips, blinking slowly and turning to him.
"Uh, yeah, she mentioned something like that earlier—"
"So then you lure the Unsub in," He stated, explaining what Rossi's brilliant mind was getting at. You closed your mouth and narrowed your eyes just ever so slightly. "You and Reid go undercover as a newly wed couple, and you lure the Unsub in, making yourself the next posible target."
Your mind screeched to a halt as you straightened up in your chair. Suddenly, Spencer was heard choking on his own breath in his seat in front of you. You felt your minds racing hit a brick wall, silence and stillness hitting every fiber of your body. "You want me to—Huh..?"
You weren't even quite sure how to process anything that had just been said. Questions began dawning at you, because one, why you? And why Spencer? And why together— as a married couple?
"It'd be a complex operation, that would include meticulous planning but," Rossi suddenly pulled out papers and began scribbling down. "Comprehensive security measures would be implicated, and with Claire in the mix, you two can find ways to get yourselves to interact with the high schools graduate community and it's very probable that the Unsub, is baited in, especially with Y/n being an ex-classmate."
"Actually," Emily started, looking between you and Spencer, who both shared the exact, red painted look on both your faces. "Thats not a bad idea."
"Wait, wait— You want me, to go undercover as a married couple, with Spencer..?" You asked again. It all started slowly falling, like dominos. You finally allowed your minds gears to rear back into movement as you shook your head slightly.
"Yes,"
Pretending to be a married couple implicated everything being a married couple was. And Rossi was implying, that you pretend to be a married, romantic, madly in-love, head-over heels about each other, couple with— Spencer? Which meant living in the same house, sharing the same things, going everywhere with each other, hugging, touching, kissing, sharing the same bed?—
Okay, now you were overthinking it.
You felt a sudden patter in your chest, that traveled all the way to your skull and through your ears, pressing against your throat. You felt heat rush to your cheeks at just the thought of all of that, and if you weren't mistaken, you could've sworn you felt your stomach flip in circles.
Spencer was your best friend yet why did this feel so incredibly exposing..?
"If you think about it, Reid and Y/l/n would be the only ones able to convincingly portray a married couple..." JJ shrugged. You glared over at JJ wondering what the hell she meant by that.
Suddenly, things were moving all too quickly and all too suddenly. You dared yourself to look over at Spencer who was surprisingly, in the same shaken up state that you were. His cheeks were glowing red, and something in his gaze was silently speaking to you. You looked back at him, feeling an unfamiliar uncertainty begin to nip at you. You were too scared to speak up, and for the first time, you truly couldn't read a single thought behind those hazel eyes you had grown to care about so deeply.
"I—uhm," You said, voice hoarse and weak. "You really think this is a good idea?"
"I think it's our closest shot at catching this guy without anyone else getting hurt." Rossi stated.
"But we only do it if the two of you are a hundred percent willing to do so," Hotch reminded. You looked back at Spencer, not knowing what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His gaze relaxed, in constrast to your panicky one, and he gave you a small nod of encouragement. You swallowed thickly.
He looked over at Rossi, nodding slowly. "Okay, we'll do it."
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @yondiii @r-3dlips @moonchildohh @rubyirene @sp3ncelle @alisyacsa @pleasantwitchgarden @landooscurls @chonkybonky
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Do you think Globby's ever fallen asleep on Felony Carl's shoulder? I do.
Short fic for this scene under the read-more!
The cushions shift as Felony Carl sits down next to him and easily wraps an arm over Globby's shoulder, as was their routine. Globby leans against him without thinking, and it feels like the most familiar thing in the world. Felony Carl's solid form next to him makes things much easier to manage. 
"Wanna see what's on T.V.?" Carl holds the remote in his other hand, looking at Globby. 
"Yeah." Globby answers simply. Wow, he was worn out. 
Felony Carl wordlessly flicks through channels with the T.V. volume turned down low. They settle on some documentary, light from the T.V. screen casting the room in a subdued blue. 
Globby's not really watching whatever is on the T.V., and if he was paying attention, he would notice that Carl wasn't, either. Globby isn't thinking much of anything. He just… feels comfortable. Drowsy. Safe. 
His head droops onto Carl's chest—normally he was taller than Carl, but he's oozing down the couch somewhat, so his head is at Carl's chest level. 
It's interesting how he can feel Carl's heartbeat, in this position. Steady thrumming. Combined with the hushed T.V., it's almost like a lullaby. 
Globby is just aware enough to register Carl's cat jumping up onto the couch next to them and curling into a ball. He's been trying to befriend that cat for so long, and this small victory pleases him. A small smile crosses his face, different from the one he was wearing at the diner. 
"This is nice," He says. 
Globby's voice is soft, a slight bit raspy. His eyes are half-lidded. The blue glow of the T.V. reflects off of his face and Carl traces with his eyes where it cups Globby's cheek. 
"It is." Felony Carl considers saying more but is interrupted by light snores. His eyes soften. He lingers on Globby, who is fast asleep already. 
Letting out an endeared sigh, he turns his head back towards the T.V., careful not to jostle Globby.
He can feel his own eyelids getting heavy, so he resigns to keep the T.V. on as background noise.
He likes how the light makes Globby look, too. 
…They can deal with things tomorrow.
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krimsnkramsart · 2 months
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sysig · 21 days
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See you everywhere, now that you’re gone (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Dexter Favin#Ft. Wally West and Xigbar again - they're good to him <3#Hhhh ;; The sads :'0#ZEX never got to fully show off his uniform ;;#I was so hoping for that! He deserves to show off and feel nice and be praised </3#At least he'd surrounded himself with good people - the dynamics around which are also interesting#Wally lovely <3 He's so sweet honestly just wants to offer a shoulder if he's able any small bit of comfort#He's injured and he's still trying to hug ZEX weh ;; Any bit of solace ♥#Xigbar's way of cheering him up is his own kind of misplaced sweetness haha I love the care put into everyone's quirks <3#Ugh the whole thing of Nobodies trying to (and failing to! To varying degrees) convince themselves that they don't have emotions#Clearly Xig is unbothered by this so it's better to just flirt and not worry about it! It's a shame but it happens to everyone#I see you Xigbar#Really tho him being a bit flippant and silly and tactile with ZEX did seem to help haha#''Let me comfort you'' pfft - sad silliness hehe#And then Dexter showed up!! I was so unprepared for that!!#Honestly I only expected him to come visit The One Time so I was so not ready for him to be here after All This#He made ZEX cry last time and this time he came to it already crying ;;#Ughhughgh ZEX's unshakable trust for DAX - even just his voice - being the breaking point of his self control I jfdlksahfds#Someone he can be weak in front of since he doesn't want to be seen by anyone that way - only to DAX ;;;;#Offering any bit of familiarity as comfort weh I'm fine this is fine ;;#Poor ZEX :( Being so powerless and helpless in this situation is so sad!! At least when he was in the War he was in control to an extent#He only touched his cheek with his uniform later that night which I do honestly love the imagery of soft and tender <3#I like drawing people holding things fully to their face more than I remembered haha#And then the fact that his roommate changed the same night and it was /Kirk/ of all people fjdslahfdsfd wehhhhh 😭#Kirk is genuinely the sweetest to him he is absolutely best boy but to have a Captain after all that ;;;;#It cuts so deeply ironic oww <3 <3
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ffsg0jo · 2 years
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@avid-idiot
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nessa × atsumu - the cement to his pavement <3
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"love ya with all of ma ass <33 i would say heart, but ma ass bigger 🤑" ~ atsumu
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waluigisgaybf · 7 months
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rip not knowing enough stuff about old fave dnd characters npc he was in love with and it’s been over a year probably more than two since that campaign so I can’t just go to the pal who DMd and be like “so I still very much think about these boys and because I was a coward and didn’t engage and push enough as a player to progress anything I need some form of closure please give me cute or random facts you might maaaaybe remember about your old npc or just make em on the spot
(Also if his sister is dead cause I never saved her or if that’s just in eternal pause cause poor fucking Bea man- little 10yo Beatrice who was full of joy and didn’t seem to let the family fucked up shit and life change her cheery little attitude but because her brother is too much of a bitch and too spiteful to allow anything to happen to himself she got the evil crown instead and his stuck in a catatonic state 😔😔😔😔)
#i’d make up stuff-#but like Alex was story important so I can NOT do that lmao#also I love Celene and she’s so cool#but also I’m a baby and so easily intimated and she intimidates me she’s so cool#and also I know I’m the annoying cringe dnd baby whose been playing for a few years and still sucks ass#I miss Meiji lmao#wouldn’t give up Kunt or this current campaign for anything#Meiji just ended up turning into a big ol comfort character low key projected onto lmao#he was a stupid edgy anime boy and had a Raven AND a Rat#and was good at lying but the one time it really mattered the two things he could not sand happened#someone was trying to find the perp of the crime Meiji had just been told to commit by his patron#and they guessed the perp to be short and Meiji got defensive suddenly on how they weren’t THAT short#and then also he used his rat familiar to peep on smthn two seconds before the crime and the ass hole npc he was stealing from#saw the rat#didn’t even know if it was a familiar and then just fucking shot it#so the guy told the others about the rat he saw in his office and shot right before the crime#and Meiji couldn’t shut tf up about how fucked up it is that you’d just shoot a rat on sight#who does that#what if it was a nice rat#who shoots rats like that-#it’s horrible-#and then two seconds later someone#was like yo where’s your rat?#and he played it off somehow but still wouldn’t shut up#and his patron had to psychicly mute him so he couldn’t fucking talk anymore#and the rest of the whole interaction had to just angrily play it all off with scowls and and snotty sounds
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t-u-i-t-c · 8 months
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Family or the World... Brothers Quarrel of the Soul!
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alastorss · 2 months
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Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.
a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.
You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.
There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.
The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.
And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.
For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.
"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.
He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.
"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.
You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."
Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.
He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.
You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.
He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.
Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)
"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."
'Or something?' he wanted to ask.
He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)
It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.
Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.
The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.
He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.
He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.
"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.
"I've come to join you, actually."
Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.
"You have a nice laugh."
He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.
You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.
"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"
Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.
"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.
Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.
"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.
Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.
All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.
His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."
"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."
Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.
~
taglist (i totally forgot i'm sorry!!): @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 (send and ask to be added!)
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supercutszns · 4 months
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a place with you; luke castellan
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wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)
pairing: luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.
warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker
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Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.
So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.
When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.
“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.
“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”
You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.
Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.
So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.
Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.
Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?
This time, though, he’s a little worried.
It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.
It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.
There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.
You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”
You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”
It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”
The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.
Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”
“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”
You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”
He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”
“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”
“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”
“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”
You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.
Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”
“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.
His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”
I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.
“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”
It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”
He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”
Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”
Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.
Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.
Until you’re claimed.
Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.
He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.
Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.
You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.
But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?
After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.
“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.
You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”
Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.
You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”
When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”
There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.
He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.
“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.
You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”
“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”
It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”
You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”
There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”
Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”
He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”
His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”
He turns back to you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.
“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”
Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”
His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”
It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”
There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”
You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.
He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.
“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”
“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.
He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.
But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.
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bi-writes · 2 months
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mmmm i have thoughts about being threatened because you're simon riley's girl and them realizing that you're not the lady in distress they thought you would be (18+)
it is late when you get to your car. your shoulders sag from a long night at work, and you can't wait to curl up on the couch with something warm to eat and something strong to drink to lull you into a peaceful sleep tonight.
you're alone. he should be home any day now, but you aren't fortunate enough to know when that is. that is how this works, and you accepted that a long time ago. if anything, it made you appreciate the times when he is close, when he is at home. it makes your connection special, and you are comforted by the fact that your bond is more than physical.
your eyes droop, and you don't pay attention to the vehicle three cars behind you that's been tailing you since you left. you press the brake and toe the accelerator on autopilot and memory alone, and you zone out as you cross familiar streets. you think you saw a new movie to watch last night, and you think about how nice it'll be to play it as you cook dinner.
you park in your usual spot, getting out and shutting the door behind you. you open the backseat, grabbing your bag and closing the door. in the reflection of the mirror, you see someone behind you, just standing there.
you react first. you toss your head back and smack him with the back of your skull, and you're satisfied when you hear the telltale crunch of a nose breaking. when you spin around to face him, he's shouting, cradling his nose, but he flicks a blade out quickly, pressing you up against your car and putting the sharp edge to your neck.
"fuck!" he cries. "fuck! what did you fucking do?!"
you raise a brow, "you sneak up on a lady like that, and you wanna start complaining?"
"shut the fuck up," he snapped. you don't flinch, even as he digs the blade a little more into your neck. you tighten your jaw at the feeling of the edge pricking you a little. you narrow your eyes, tilting your head to the side.
"this isn't random...is it?" you ask. he stands tall, taller than you at least. he's a scrawny thing, but he's still bigger than you, and he has a weapon. his pupils are a little dilated, telling you he have taken something for the edge, and he fidgets. he's wearing a black bandana to cover the lower half of his face, but you can see the peek of brunette curls and the wild green of his eyes. you memorize the eyes, the accent--ukranian, georgian, russian? you try to place it as he speaks again.
"mm..." he shakes his head, "you're smart girl, i'll give you that."
you click your tongue, "then i don't have to tell you what a bad idea this is, do i?"
"it's because of that, that's why i'm doing this--" he comes closer, and his breath stinks, even through the mask. "they fucked with me, so i'll fuck with them. starting with their whores."
you tilt your head to the side, "oh...you really..." you smile a little, and it is off-putting. he frowns a bit momentarily. the smile you wear startles him. "you really don't get it."
"no, this is--"
"they won't just come for you," you whisper. "they're going to come for your family. mom. dad. sisters. brothers. cousins, friends--" you grit your teeth, "anyone that even so much as opens a fucking door for you or shines your goddamn shoes is going to lose a limb, are you ready for that?" you snarl a bit. "and when they find you, which they will, believe me--" you laugh, "it will be slow. it will be painful. you think you're the first?"
"fucking--"
"you aren't," you snap. "you're not the first, and you won't be the last." you glare at him, meeting his crazed eyes, and you take a deep, shaking breath. "so i want you to think again about what you're doing. i want you think about what it is you're going to do. because for every scratch they find on me...they are going to give it back to you." you blink, "so think. i'll wait."
you lean back against your car, your posture relaxed, your feet steady. it unnerves him, how calm you are. how you don't flinch, how nothing scares you, not even with his blade right against your soft skin. it doesn't phase you, and it's terrifying.
"they stole from me," he says finally. "eye for an eye. you'll just have to accept that."
you sigh, pouting a little.
"god, i...i really wish...i really wish you hadn't said that."
you bang on your car with one hand, drawing his attention away from you for just a moment. with your other, you slip your keys into your fist and you swing. you block his knife-wielding arm, sinking the pointed end of the key into his face, and you go for the vulnerable spots. back to his bleeding, broken nose, against his mouth, and the finishing blow, right into his eye.
he screams, the knife clattering to the floor, and he drops to his knees, cradling his bloody face. his hands shake, and you put your foot to his chest and kick, knocking him onto his back on the pavement.
you pick up the blade, holding it steady before you step on his neck, making him wheeze. he thrashes, preoccupied with wondering if he'll go blind in one eye.
"i told you," you spit. "you're not the first."
for a moment, your resolve breaks. your lip trembles, and you squeeze the handle of the blade tight for stability. this is the price you pay for loving someone. this is what you must do to keep a ghost, and although you feel strong and resilient and capable, you feel fear, too.
"he'll have to be the last, then."
your head snaps to the side when you hear it. he stands on the sidewalk, duffel bag at his feet. he's still wearing his gear--and fuck, he looks so big when he wears it. he looks so broad, the boots make him just that much taller, and it seems as if he hasn't had time to unload the artillery he normally wears. there's a gun holstered to his thigh and magazines stuffed into their pockets in his vest. he still wears his mask, eye-black smeared messily across his pale face.
it means he came here immediately--it means he didn't have time to undress. it means he wanted to come home, and come home fast.
you breathe easier when you see him there. when you step aside and the man beneath you gets a look at him with his good eye, he starts to cry. he sputters, starts to beg, but it falls on deaf ears.
the gravel on the pavement crunches under his boots as he comes near. like a magnet, a gloved hand comes up and grips you firmly on the back of the neck, and you lean up on your toes, tilting your head back just enough to kiss him through the mask.
it's soft, sweet, a little hungry after the time apart. you pull away slowly, smiling up at him. he narrows his eyes, angry, but it isn't at you.
"missed you," you whisper, and he grips your jaw with one big hand, tilting your head to the side. he grunts when he sees the thin line left behind from the blade, tiny droplets of blood beginning to peek out from it. "missed you so much--"
you gasp when his hand falls and gropes you. cupping one side of your ass, squeezing the fat of it in his paw and drawing you near. he pressed the front of you against him, despite the layers that separate you, and he hisses.
"are you olright?"
you nod. "just fine. he's new at this, i think."
you hum as he squeezes your ass again, patting it gently before nodding back towards home.
"get inside," he leans down and presses his covered mouth to yours again, and you can feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest. "gonna rid y'of the rubbish, sweetheart."
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caramelcal · 9 months
Note
Hi, I love your story!! I wanted to know if you can do a when theo is jealous and leave hickey to fem reader. If your not comfortable that’s fine thank you 🤭.
LOVEBITES AND POTIONS
word count: 1.4k
a/n: hiya lovely! thank you for sending a request<3
warnings: fem!reader, no house specified. jealous!theo. boyfriend!theo, playful allegations of cheating/going on dates with others. hickeys.
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"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out from behind you, halting you in your movements.
It was a Friday, and you had just left your last class of the day, ready to relax over the weekend with your boyfriend, Theo. That's where you were heading right now; to his dorm.
Well, until someone called out from you.
"I'm glad I caught up with you," The voice said as you turned around, eyes catching onto Zacharias, a Hufflepuff boy in your year, and your potions partner.
"Hi, Zacharias," You gave the boy a pleasant smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You held your books in your hands in front of your chest, looking at the boy who seemed a little out of breath.
"Hi, um-" He started, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes cast away from you for a second, "I wanted to talk to you about our potions project."
You looked at him with a small smile, urging him to go on as he took a deep breath. Tons of students bustled around the two of you, loud, excited to get off to their dorms or hang out with their friends, and although you wanted nothing more than to run to Theo's dorm, you were patient with the boy in front of you.
He seemed nervous.
"Well, I was thinking we could get a headstart on our project, maybe tomorrow in the library?" He proposed, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but your face, "I mean, I really need a good grade on this project, and I know that you like to..."
Zacharias continued, but you zoned out a little as your eyes caught on to a particular group of Slytherin boys. They all joked about, pushing each other, and just acting generally boisterous. Not a single one of them wore their robes, all claiming to be far too cool for them, their ties loosened and white sleeves rolled up.
Your eyes caught onto the familiar tall figure of your boyfriend as he laughed, his blue eyes catching onto yours as you smiled, getting a smile in return. His friends all started to notice you too, riling Theodore up as boys do when they saw the look in his eyes.
"Y/n?" A hand gently brushed against your shoulder, drawing your attention back towards Zacharias, his eyebrows slightly drawn, and a slight redness in his cheeks.
"That sounds like a good idea, Zacharias," His face brightened a little, "but I can't do tomorrow, I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry."
"Oh."
"We can start on Sunday though? How does that sound?"
A small smile makes its way back onto Zacharias' lips as he nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."
Before you can respond, however, to work out times or anything, you hear a call from behind you, "Y/n! C'mon! We don't have all day!"
Your head whips around, hearing Draco shout after you to get you to hurry up, only to realise all of the Slytherin boys are staring at you, waiting for you to come with them. With a smile, you turn back around and say your goodbyes to Zacharias, before practically skipping over to the boys.
Your eyes don't move from the tall blue-eyed boy, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you reach up and peck him on the cheek. His eyes don't quite meet yours, focusing on something behind you as his hands snake possessively around your waist, a kiss being placed on your forehead.
Then, you're whisked away to the Slytherin common room, and soon enough, Theodore's dorm. The door shuts behind your boyfriend as you place your books down on his bedside table, and he wastes little time pulling your robe away from your neck and down your shoulders, slipping it off your body.
"I missed you," You spoke quietly as you turned around in your boyfriend's hold, your hands going over his shoulders and curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.
Your head is on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and cigarettes, eyes closing at the comfort it brings you.
Theo hummed in response, pulling back a little as he picked you up with ease, placing you down on his bed as he sat beside you, facing you.
His lips soon find yours, his hand sitting around the back of your neck, keeping your lips firmly on his as his thumb caresses your hair away from the side of your neck. His free hand pulls at your tie, then unbuttons the top two buttons of your shirt, moving the fabric to free the side of your neck.
Then, his lips latch onto your neck, near your jaw, and the second you feel him suck and his teeth lightly graze over the skin, you know exactly what he's trying to do.
"Theo, lower. Those marks are going to be visible above my uniform."
Yet, he doesn't stop. In fact, he seems even more eager to mark up the side of your neck when he hears those words tumble from your lips.
"Theo."
He pulled away a little, but you could still feel his soft breaths against the bare skin of your neck. You looked down at him with a quizzical look.
"Why are you doing it so high?"
He avoided the question, his hands pushing your hair back once more as his eyes cast back down to the skin of your neck, "You excited about your date with your little boyfriend?"
"I didn't realise we'd planned a date this weekend."
"I'm talking about your other boyfriend," He quipped back sarcastically, before his lips made contact with another spot on your neck, littering what you can guarantee are going to be countless dark bruises along your neck.
Your eyebrows furrow at this remark as you try to piece together what Theodore could possibly be talking about. What other plans did you even have?
"Are you talking about Zacharias? He's just helping me with our potions project," You informed your boyfriend, your hand coming up to grab at the strands of his soft hair once more.
"Tell him to leave it, I'm better at potions anyway. I'll help you," Theodore bargained, without his mouth moving away from your neck.
He wasn't wrong. Theodore was brilliant at potions, but regardless of that, it was your and Zacharias' project, not you and Theodore's.
"Wait," A subtle smirk came to your lips as you began to piece together what was happening, your hand pushing Theo away from your neck, "Are you jealous, Theo?"
You held him in such a way that he was unable to attach his lips to your neck to continue his attack, your head tilting a little as you waited for a response.
Theodore rolled his eyes in response, mumbling, "No."
"Are you sure?" You pouted a little, raising an eyebrow at the way his eyes were cast to the side, not looking you in the eyes. His hair was a little messed up, and a small pout had made its way to his lips, too. He crossed his arms over his chest, almost comically, as if he was a child in a huff.
"That puff has nothing on me," He mumbled cockily, making you laugh softly as you moved your hands from holding him back. Not skipping a beat, Theo latched his lips back onto your skin, on the opposite side now.
"Stop," You laughed a little, "Snape's going to have a heart attack if he sees these."
You had absolutely no doubt that these were going to be a pain in the ass to hide. Even with your hair down, it was going to be a real struggle. With how many Theodore had left too, you knew the chances of you being able to cover them with makeup was going to be difficult, too.
"Hope the puff does, too," Theodore mumbled almost childishly.
"Don't be jealous, Theo," You spoke softly, your hand coming up to play with his hair once more, your other hand rubbing his back, "You know I'm yours."
"You're right," Theodore responded, pulling away from the last hickey he made, then pressing a soft kiss against your neck, now littered with marks, then your jaw, then your lips. Finally pulling back, his blue eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his face as he surveys his work, then your face, "All mine."
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luveline · 8 months
Note
could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her
tysm for requesting, 1k
Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 
You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 
You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 
Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 
What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 
Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.
She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 
What if you're forcing yourself on him? 
You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 
Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 
"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.
Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 
"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 
The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 
Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 
"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 
"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 
"Don't rush it for my sake."
Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 
Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.
You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 
His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 
"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"
You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 
"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 
"What?" 
"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 
"What's not a good idea?" 
You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 
"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 
"I don't want to torture you," you say. 
Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 
Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 
You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 
He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 
"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 
Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 
And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 
"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 
You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.
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hairmetal666 · 2 months
Text
Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.
He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.
He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.
They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.
"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.
"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"
He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.
"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.
"Had a show?"
"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.
Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.
"Don't--"
"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.
"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"
"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.
"Like you ever could."
Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.
"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"
Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.
Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"
The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.
--
When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.
They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.
Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.
--
In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.
Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"
"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Steve."
"Robin."
They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"
"I don't want either of you to get hurt."
Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."
"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"
He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."
And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.
Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.
They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.
As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.
Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.
But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.
He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.
--
They aren't as close after that.
Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.
Until Eddie stops returning his calls.
He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.
"Steve? What are you--"
"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"
Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."
He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.
"Eddie, I--"
"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"
Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.
"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.
He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.
The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.
The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.
It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.
--
Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.
It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.
"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.
"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"
"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."
Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."
"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"
"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."
"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."
"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."
Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.
They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.
"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."
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kissforyouu · 2 months
Text
ribbons & affection ♡
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pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc
genre : fluff , smut
warnings : RIBBONS!!! 🎀 , sexual content : jk is tied up , p in v , breast play , switch!reader , switch!jk , tit fucking , guided masterbation , creampie , nudes
a/n : this was inspired by this video!! AND HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY😭😭!! btw i made like a whole text au but forgot tumblr had a limited number for pics so i couldn't include it in ughh😫😫
not proofread.
"hi."
jungkook stares at you from your door, across the living room. he was dressed in black from head to toe, as usual. big puffer jacket, baggy pants and a tank top with a few of his rings on. his body was leaned against the doorframe as he waited for your response.
"you're here!" you squeel, excited to see your boyfriend. especially after your...little argument yesterday. it was childish, really. jungkook was a massive tease. he would tease you about quite literally everything. and maybe yesterday he took it a little too far by making a comment about his exes. multiple exes to say the least :). obviously, you got fucking mad. he was talking about how he never really felt anything real for any of them, except maybe one. obviously that made you feel a bit insecure. what if he feels the same towards you as well? and he's just playing you?
no, he wouldn't do all of this if he was. you're sure. you're very sure! right? he's your jungkookie.
brushing away all those thoughts away, you skip your way towards your boyfriend, only stopping a foot away from him. you look up at your man, arms behind your back with a small smile that's threatening to widen.
jungkook's lips press thinly against eachother as if he's going to say something, but he stops and drops whatever he was holding. next thing, his arms immediately wrap around your body, pulling you to his chest. like this, jungkook wraps his entire body around yours. your nose nuzzled deep in his neck with his arms securely wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other around your back.
your boyfriend bear hugs you for about a minute, gently rocking your body sideways. god, this feels nice. the moment he wrapped his arms around you, it was like everything was fine again. there was some obvious tension still, until the moment before he hugged you like this. your body was relaxed, almost lifelessly laying in his arms.
slowly, you place your palms on his back, hugging him back. jungkook hums in satisfaction, the tip of his tongue in your hair.
"my sweet girl." his embrace felt so warm and safe. you never want to let go.
"i missed you so much." he mumbles into your hair. just as you were about to slowly pull away, he pulls back into his embrace by grabbing your wrists. "let me hold you." he kisses the top of your head.
there is a familiar warm feeling spreading around your stomach. jungkook! >.<!
you just let the man embrace you in silence, squeezing your body over and over again until he feels completely comfortable and fit.
about a minute pass by, so you decided to break the silence.
"you missed me that much?"
"the fuck i look like to you? of course, i did." jungkook pinches the skin on your waist, making you squeak. his hand shifts places to under your butt, lifting your body up effortlessly next. he adjusts you in his hold, both hands under your butt to hold you up. jungkook sighs, comforted, as he walks into your house.
"my stuff!" you whine, hand reaching towards your bag full of goodies on the floor.
"is that all you care about?" the man holding you grunts.
"yup! duh." you pinch his ear.
"we should break up then—"
"no. you're not funny, kook." jungkook snickers in return, hand patting your back. he sits on your couch, pulling you closer to his body. gosh, if he could, he'd dig inside his body to have you rest under his skin. he wants to be as close to you as possible.
"y/n, oh my god." jungkook takes a deep breath, thumb caressing the dimple on your cheek as you smile. "yeah?", "baby, i love you so much." he hugs you again, practically squeezing you. you just giggle, cheeks heating up. "oh my god, you're so cute, jungkook!" you coo, hand gently petting his head.
"i'm not cute." his voice comes out muffled. "yes, you are!" "no, don't call me that." jungkook huffs, groaning into your neck. "the way you said that made you even cuter." you giggle. you pull him out of your embrace stand up on his thighs, both hands holding his face up.
"look at you! your head is like a circle!" there you go again.
"oh fuck, baby. give it a rest." jungkook's back is slouched against the back as he watched you fondle his cheeks. "smileee!" jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. you frown, lightly slapping your boyfriend's cheeks. you boyfriend couldn't help but grin a little, the corner of his lips twitching upwards but it quickly conceals it by puffing his cheeks.
"give me a biiig smile, baby." you pinch the tip of his ears. jungkook shakes his head again, clearly saying no. you begin by kissing the tip of his nose, then trailing more up his nose bridge, ending with a soft kiss on his forehead. your cheeks are already heated up as you caress your boyfriend's cheeks, kissing them afterwards. there's faint stains of lip gloss all over his face by now.
"smileeee!" jungkook looks away from you, trying to keep his smile from breaking out. but your charms were just too good. your boyfriend couldn't help but smile widely, followed by a giggle. ack! so cute!
quickly, you push your index fingers forward to poke his dimples. jungkook's laughter fills your ears as you continued to poke his dimples.
"did you bring the ribbons by the way?"
"wait—" pause. "you were being forreal?" jungkook squints his eyes, trying to read you.
"yeah?" you pout.
"i just—well, thought you were joking. one sec." jungkook signals you to move out of his lap before he walks towards the bag laying on the floor. he brings the bag to you, pulling out a roll of pink ribbon. he throws it at you and watches it bounce off your chest to your lap.
"now what?" your now curious boyfriend stares at you, waiting for you to do something.
"i'm going to fuck you!" god. such filthy words coming out of someone who looks so innocent.
you stare back at your boyfriend with your eyes wide, a cheeky smile adorning your lips. your fingers fondled with the lace of his sweatpants, sneaking its way upwards and under his tank top. the tips of your fingers make contact with his hard abs as they traced imaginary lines all over.
"little fucking minx." jungkook cusses out.
with a giggle, you sit up on the sofa, pulling down his sweats upto his mid thighs to expose his boxers, semi hard cock very much visible.
teasingly, you bend down to press a kiss to his clothed cock. jungkook's breath hitches, excited. but the excitement vanishes away the moment you pull away and let the sweatpants go back to its original spot.
"what?" "what?" you giggle at his visible confusion.
"weren't you gonna suck my dick?"
"ew! no!" you laugh, slapping jungkook's torso. you get back on your feet before kissing your boyfriend's cheek and skipping your way back to your bedroom. huh? were you gonna fuck him in your room then? before jungkook could even find out, he hears you locking your room.
"Y/N? you can't possibly lock me out of your room after doing that!" the helpless man shouts.
but the ding coming from his phone distracts him, especially your contact appearing right on top. you had sent him a message. now?
baby❤️ : take ur pants off and wait on the couch🤭 p.s. leave the boxers on :) AND CLOSE UR EYES PLS
what the fuck were you planning? er, jungkook didn't care. he was thrilled by this. all he wanted was to burry his cock deep in your cunt.
so far into your relationship, you've never really initiated things yourself. it's always been him suggesting things to try in bed. you've only brought up topics maybe once or twice. so this is definitely rare. it wasn't just you suggesting it, but you were acting on it right on the moment too. so correction: jungkook was far more than thrilled for this. the thought itself got his dick standing up proud and tall.
he made sure to listen to all your orders. your boyfriend was sitting on the couch in his boxers, legs wide spread and waiting for you. he was debating whether to take his shirt off or not. i mean, you didn't tell him to do so. but you also didn't tell him not to. uh. er. maybe—
"kook, are you ready?~" your sweet voice fills his ears, catching his attention and eyes directing towards your room.
"you want me to close my eyes?" jungkook's eyes shut after the loud yes you shout okay.
once you felt like you were ready with....this?!?! you slowly open the door, trying to not make a sound. you tip toe towards you impatient (and horny) boyfriend on the couch with a tight smile and immediately place your palm on his eyes, blinding his vision.
because of the sudden action, jungkook flinches, hands immediately landing on your thigh—more specifically, your garter.
you freeze, head lowered to see jungkook's finger hooking onto the garter. you watch his lips slowly turn upwards to a smirk, quickly picking on what's happening. his other hand joins the feast, gripping onto your other thigh, slowly sliding up your smooth skin and meeting your ass cheeks. his fingertips touch the thin fabric covering your cunt.
"ha!" jungkook laughs, body falling back against the sofa with a slap to your asscheek. "can i open my eyes now?"
you pout, eyebrows frowned in annoyance. whining, you talk, "ugh! i wanted to surprise you. why do you always have to find out everything?"
"doesn't matter. can i open them now? pleasepleasepleaseplease—" "okay."
jungkook's eyes immediately open, and the sight in front almost makes him faint. fucking hell. he didn't know where to look. your face? your tits? ass? uh, i don't know? fuck.
you were wearing a beautiful baby pink lace lingerie set. it was barely covering you, of course, but teased jungkook just the perfect amount. oh fuck. the lace was so thin and fit your body perfectly, decorating you as if you were some prop. the lace had little bows adorning it, along with small roses. his eyes were glued to tour beautiful round tits, secured within the flimsy material. but one thing caught his attention. fuck, he was rock hard. it was the beautiful J necklace he had gifted you a while earlier, sitting perfectly in between your pretty tits.
"shit, baby." jungkook touches the pendant, thumb swiping over the shiny letter. he traces the chain of the necklace upto your neck, giving you goosebumps along the way. jungkook's finger slides over your shoulder blade and down your arm before it lands back on your pendant. he grabs your left breast, squeezing it. he loved how your hard nipples were seen through the useless little material. couldn't help but swipe his thumb over the material a few times, making you let out a whimper here and there.
and the beauty doesn't even stop there.
jungkook's eyes travel downwards, met with your pretty pussy covered with nothing but the little lace fabric. and oh, oh shit— his eyes widen at the crotchless panties you were wearing. with little bows attached to both hipsters.
"dirty fucking girl." he laughs, hand gripping onto the flesh of your ass.
"you like it?" you tilt your head to the side with a small grin on your face.
"i love it, baby. gimme a twirl." jungkook pats your ass and motions you to do what he asked. you happily accept, taking a few steps back to give him the full view. you begin to twirl around slowly. jungkook enjoys the view with a small smile.
"so pretty, baby. dolled up all for me." he bites his lower lip. "uh huh." you nod.
"c'mere. lemme feel you, princess."
"nuh uh." you refuse, shaking your head from side to side.
"fuck it, what's it now?"
jungkook didn't know what to expect this time. he knew you were nervous about it, judging by your body language. you were standing awkwardly, hands pinned to your back while nibbling on your lower lip. what would make his baby so nervous? shit, maybe, you'll let him have your ass for the first time—
"press your hands to your back."
maybe not.
"no. wanna touch you." you knew this would happen.
"please? pleaasee?" you whine.
"no, sweetheart. not doing that. i need to feel you up." jungkook shakes his head.
"c'mon, kook. for me? pretty please?" you smile. you smile so beautifully that it almost makes jungkook drop down to his knees. fuck, was he down bad.
"yea, yea, fine." he grunts, hands pinned to his back now. you happily scoot over, grabbing the roll of ribbons and tying them around jungkook's wrists.
so that's what they were for? jungkook thinks.
when he thought you were finally done, he watches you bend downwards to tie two bows around his naked thighs. then you proceed to do the same to his biceps.
"i feel like a coquette porcelain doll."
"you are! my princess." you hold up his face by his chin, squeezing his cheeks again.
"i hope nobody ever finds out about this." jungkook groans.
nah. jungkook doesn't care. he didn't give a shit, to be honest. you were his girl. he'd put on anything you give him. hell, he'd walk around naked in the streets if you had asked him. with you, he became vulnerable. something he never was before. he'd put on the girliest princess dress and go out if you had asked. in fact, jungkook would rather be proud. to call you his girl of course :). "my girl made me wear this."
"don't worry, won't tell anyone." you kiss the tip of his nose as a reward. you gently push his back by his shoulders, making him rest against the sofa.
perfect! your boyfriend looked like a coquette princess. he looked yummy.
for a second, your mind goes blank, utterly blank. what do you do now? you've never switched the roles during sex...yet. you've always been the submissive one while jungkook handled everything.
"need help?" jungkook's shiteating grin just motivates you to do better. you'll prove him wrong. yeah!
you mutter a small no. you begin by kneeling down in front of your boyfriend, right in between his legs. his hard on was very visible through the thin material of his black calvein klein boxers, even staining it a little as well. you lean forward to press a kiss to where his tip was. licking some precum off the boxer as well.
jungkook hums in approval once you start to pepper kisses all over his boxers, finger hooking to the waistband of his boxers to pull them down. once you've fully taken them off, you begin by stroking the base of his cock up and down. very slowly.
the slow pace of your hands was slowly starting to drive jungkook mad. he wanted you to fasten up, or use your mouth, just do something that'll make him cum. but at the same time, he found it arousing. his girlfriend, usually the one who's begging to get fucked with a pillow in between her legs, taking control and using his cock however she pleased.
jungkook starts to thrust his cock into your hands, begging for more friction. and who are you to oppose. heh. you give in, moving your hands faster on his cock. meanwhile, you also leaned forward to kitten lick his red tip.
wrong. he so desperately wanted you to deepthroat his cock right now.
"fuck, baby, the things i would've done if i had my hands freed right now."
that's just for the play, by the way. only a fool would think that jungkook really felt trapped by those skimpy ribbons. he could easily break out. he's just letting you have your fun for now. you both knew that. such a good boyfie!
you giggle in response before spitting a globe of spit onto his cock. before it slides down his cock, you flatten your tongue on it and spread the spit all over his cockhead. you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, gently sucking on it.
you pull his tip out of your mouth with a pop. jungkook looks at you befuddled, then he tries to touch you. but oh—yeah, the ribbons. he thinks twice and settles on not breaking out of the ribbons.
you reach out your arm to grab the pillow on the couch, then placing it under your knees so that you could sit on it. it gave you some height as well. you look back at your boyfriend with a mischievous smile, then back down at your breasts. your arm travels to your back, your bra, and then slowly unhook it, letting the lingerie material fall down to reveal your perky breasts.
jungkook gasps, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together once you start massaging your breasts while eyeing his cock. shit. he bites his lower lip, watching the way the flesh of your breasts perfectly mold into your hands however you massage it.
your back was arched, chest popping out as you began to stroke his cock with your left hand. meanwhile, your fingers played with your breasts, rolling the little nub in between. jungkook didn't know where to look. your fresh nails set, pretty in pink with cute charms all over, looked so hypnotising wrapped around his cock. you were dripping, it was obvious as you constantly shifted your position on the pillow.
jungkook swears he sees stars once your hand leaves his cock to cup your breasts together and squeeze them. shit.
"put it in, baby." your voice was sultry once you spoke.
jungkook gladly thrusted his hips up, adjusting to the position a little because, well, can't use his hands. your boyfriend slides his cock in between your breasts with a groan, watching the way your breasts squeeze him in just right. he didn't need any lubricant, his cock was wet enough already with precum leaking from the tip.
jungkook begins to thrust his hips up and down sloppily. it was quite hard since his hands were tied. but you decided to help by thrusting your body forward and back to meet the pace of his thrusts. you stare at your boyfriend, whimpering prettily with a layer of sweat covering his face. he looked so pretty like this. cock desperately going in and out of the valley between your boobs. you were slowly starting to like this whole...taking control thing.
"you like this, kook?" you murmur.
your boyfriend laughs, grunting afterwards.
"are you trying to dirty talk to me?"
your eyebrows furrow, "ruined the moment."
he laughs again, tongue swiping over his lower lip. "talk to me. i like hearing your voice."
okay, now you're shy. what do you say now? you mentally cry.
you stay silent, but give him a little nod and continue to let him fuck into your boobs. the louder his moans got, the sloppier his thrusts became. jungkook breaks out a little whine, immediately shutting himself up after that. he's embarrassed, you can see it.
"come on, a little more. you're doing so good, baby." shiiiiit.
he fucks into you faster, but sloppier. just to make it a little easier (heh), you let a globe of spit slide down your chin and fall onto his cock.
"haa—" your boyfriend moans. and with one last thrust, a creamy liquid spurts out of his tip and lands on your chest, some on your chin as well. he could not believe that he came from just your tits. you let go of your breasts once he slips his cock out, sighing and plopping your forehead on the sofa.
you sit back to your previous position after a few seconds. your tits were covered in his cum. a sight to never forget. a sight to never forget, for sure! you snicker as you grabbed the camera on the coffee table behind you.
"where'd that come from?" jungkook talks.
you shush him with a kiss on his sensitive tip. what's gotten to you?
with the camera, you proceed to take multiple pictures of your breasts. squeezed against eachother, cum dripping from your nipples. to spice it more up, you bring in your boyfriend's (still hard) cock to the picture, playing it between your breasts.
"you're so cute, sweetheart. use my cock however you want." his back was resting on the sofa, half lidded eyes watching you use his cock for your cute little pictures.
"my girlfriend's a little whore? whom are you gonna show these pictures to? other guys?" you know he's joking, but you couldn't help but scoff.
"jus' you. i don't like other people. unlike you." you let go of his cock, letting it bounce back.
jungkook snickers, getting a kick out of annoying you.
"you're so mean!" you slap his chest hard.
"c'mon, baby." you place the camera back on the coffee table. pushing jungkook back, you climb onto his lap, strangling his thighs. you were sitting on his thigh, your crotch directly in contact with his skin. it was hard to not just fuck yourself on his thigh. but eh, maybe.
you moan once your clit touches his thigh. hand cupping your pussy, your index finger gently swipe over your clit a few times. so soft. you begin to rub it a little, flicking the little button over and over.
"having fun playing with yourself, princess? touch her nice and slow first, m'kay? add a finger after, she loves that." the way he was talking about your pussy as if it's completely something else around you so much. you lean back on your boyfriend's thigh, leg spread as your fingers played with your princess parts.
your fingers dip in between your folds, fingers getting coated in your wetness. humming in satisfaction with how wet it is, you seperate your folds with your fingers, forming a v shape. jungkook licks his lips, watching your arousal stick to your fingers.
"pinch her for me." jungkook groans once you obey his command, your own fingers pinching your clit for him. "that's right, sweetheart. now rub it slowly." you follow his words, rubbing your clit gently.
"mmh, i want you." you needed him so bad. wanted him to touch you and make you cum over and over. your fingers fasten at the thought, rubbing your clit harshly.
"you want me to touch you? just say the word and i'll touch you, sweet girl." you wanted to slap him across the face. you wanted his hands all over your body. but that meant removing the ribbons. you didn't want to lose control.
"say yes. i'll touch you good, sweetheart. make you feel just fine, yeah?" jungkook coos at the sight of your pussy compulsions. clenching and throbbing, begging for his touch.
"see, she wants me too. just look at her, baby. you have to let me touch her so i could help her out."
"mmmmgh!" you whine, not liking how this is going.
fuck it!
sitting back up on his lap, you pull on his hair to raise his head up so that you could kiss him harshly. you also manage to whine a "fine" in the middle. the moment jungkook got the que, he laughs, breaking out of those stupid little ribbons. your boyfriend lifts you up from below, your ass now sitting on his forearms as he harshly kissed you.
lips smacking eachother, sucking eachother's tongues and whatnot, jungkook didn't let you catch a breath. he was impatient. he wanted to eat you whole then and there.
"all of that just to take it off once i open my mouth, huh? that cock hungry?" jungkook speaks he removes his mouth from you. you just nod, not having any other words to say.
"lay down, pretty."
you impatiently lay down, stumbling on the pillows while you do it. your back was resting on the arm of the sofa with your leg raised up, your boyfriend getting in between your legs. he takes off his tank top with a smirk, throwing it and letting it land wherever in his room. jungkook takes in the sight in front of him.
you sprawled in front of him, pussy dripping while wearing those slutty little panties. what's even point if your whole cunt's exposed? slut, slut, slut. his slut, though. the sparkling jewellery laying on the swell of your breasts catches his attention next. your boyfriend touches it, caressing the charm with his palm.
J.
he liked that a lot. you were his. his woman, his person, his everything in every possible way. you were the love of his life, his trophy. he carried you around like a trophy. always showing you off to his friends and everyone else.
"my girlfriend"
"my girlfriend"
"my girlfriend"
"my girlfriend"
his eyes sparkled as he leaned down to press a small kiss on the charm. you could feel your boyfriend's warm breath hitting your lips. jungkook licks his lower lip, beginning to kiss your neck. he licks over an area, nuzzling into your shoulder. his left cheek was pressed against your shoulder blade, fingers running down your arm. you literally got goosebumps at his touch. he was so gentle and loving. as if he was treasuring you and your body. worshipping you.
"you're so beautiful, baby. how'd i get so lucky." your breath hitches at his praises, watching jungkook praise the shit out of you while kissing every inch of your body.
the moment he gropes both of your breasts at the same time by those large manly hands, i swear you almost came on the spot. your pussy desperately clench around nothing with your back arched, a small moan escaping your lips. your boyfriend laughs at your reaction, aware of how aroused you've become at this point.
"you want me to finally touch her now?" he signals at your pussy. your head jolts upwards, frantically nodding with a few yesses leaving your lips.
"pleasure." jungkook begins to circle your pretty clit meanwhile his other hand caressed the insides of your thigh, easing you down. your boyfriend slowly lays down on his stomach, face now completely aligned with your glistening pussy.
"hello there, sweetheart." you whine again—shit, you might as well just cum right now—jungkook's hand suddenly holds your hand, intervening them together. his chin lays on top of your crotch as he looked at you one more time, eyes showing nothing but pure affection towards to.
jungkook places a kiss on top of your clit, tongue gently swiping over the sensitive nub.
"pretty girl." his tongue entered your pussy to lick away all your arousal. you were moaning, pussy clenching at the sensation. it was good, god, his tongue, but it wasn't good enough to make you cum. you knew he was doing this on purpose. not sinking his tongue deeper into your cunt, jungkook just laps on your pussy and enjoys the taste of your wetness.
"so sweet." his fingers joined the party to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit. this was a sight to watch indeed. your boyfriend feasted on your pussy as if he was a starved man.
everything felt so good. he made sure to pull away once you feel like coming as well. meanie.
"keep it in, i need you to milk my cock, not my face." you do nothing but nod.
once he felt satisfied enough by your sloppy cunt, he pulls away to look at you. you notice how puffy his lips looked from all that making out with your pussy. that makes the two of you i guess!
jungkook grins, jacking off his hard cock. he was bricked up, of course. one look at you and it was over for him. you looked like you were straight out of a porno.
"i'm gonna stuff you full of my cock, baby. you would like that, wouldn't you?" he huffs, eyeing your dripping pussy and that pretty little face of yours.
"you make me so cock drunk, jungkook ;(" your manicured toes poke his thigh, foot almost about touch his cock until he playfully pushes it away with a laugh. "patience."
"look at how pretty these are." you hook a finger under the trap of your crotchless panties, pulling on it and letting the material slap back into place. "bought it just for you." there's a proud little grin on your face.
"yeah? who's card did you use?"
you hesitate for a moment, but answer. "mine."
jungkook pauses, eyebrow raising followed with a slap on your thigh.
"i've told you so many times to use my card but you never do. do i have to fuck the thought into you now?"
"uh-huh. jus' doesn't feel right to use your money for your own surprise." you pout.
"i don't care. i've clearly told you to use my card whenever you want."
"noooooo," you whine, "my friends are already calling you my sugar daddy!"
"then let them." he laughs, tracing your folds with his fingers. jungkook pushes two fingers in at once, beginning to scissor them in.
"ngh! i want your cock! not your fingers...!"
"gotta prep you, sweetheart." he fastens the pace of your fingers inside you, contemplating whether to add a third one in or not. eh, just do it. he stretches your cunt out with all three fingers while his other hand drew invisible doodles on your cute tummy.
once he feels like you're stretched out enough, he carefully pulls his fingers out, licking them clean afterwards. it was so nasty, yet so arousing.
without anymore waiting, jungkook's cock was already slipped in with no problems. he gives you a second to adjust to his cock as you shifted in your position, making yourself comfortable. once you gave him the okay signal, your boyfriend begins to give you those heavenly thrusts of his.
"haaa." you take a deep breath in, hands holding jungkook's shoulders for support. his pace wasn't fast, it was rather slow and sensual. he took his time with you. it was slow, he touched every inch and corner of your pussy this way. it was perfect. your mushy walls molded into whatever he wanted.
"nygh. ~" you let out small whines and moans, loving the way his cock slides in and out of you. it just felt so good.
"you're so amazing, please never stop." you speak out followed by a gasp, making jungkook chuckle. "never stoppin', sweetheart."
his face was buried in your neck, inhaling in your scent. your boyfriend licked your earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth a few times.
he begins to fasten his pace around you once he felt you clenching around him repeatedly. you moan out a long whine, the heel of your foot now digging into his asscheek while he pounded his cock into you. at this point, your moans had already sinked in together, turning out harmonically.
"you close?" your boyfriend leans down to whisper in your ear. you just nod, not really having the energy to speak words. you were fucked. you looked so fucked out from his dick, it was unreal. he loved this look on you, though. eyes half lidded, lips formed in an 'o' shape and breasts jumping up and down.
"shit, gonna drive me crazy." he lightly slaps your cheek. but you lean into his hand, wanting more of his touch.
soon you feel your orgasm coming in. ah, shit, clawing your nails into jungkook's shoulders, you just close your eyes and cum. jungkook's eyes were glued to your pussy as your juice milked his cock good. there was a white ring formed around his cock, making him smirk.
soon, jungkook cums as well, very well triggered by the pleasure from your orgasm. but he looks at you, asking whether he could cum inside or not. once you give him your approval, jungkook wastes no time to completely empty his balls into your cunt. he fucked you through his high, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy. it's fine, you were on birth control anyway.
he slowly pulled out of you, not letting you get hurt or anything. and then he just threw himself over your body. "oh!" you giggle a little. your boyfriend licked your cheek and bit it as if he was about to take a big bite out of his favourite food.
he leaned back to watch his cum drip down from your pussy. "heh." jungkook collects the liquid with his finger then guides it to your lips. you happily wrap your lips around them.
"can't let a drop go to waste."
you laugh, hitting his chest playfully. you spent another few minutes laying on top of eachother until you decided to break the silence.
"so, did you like my surprise?"
you knew damn well he LOVED it. you just wanted to hear the story.
"best surprise ever, sweet girl." he caresses your cheek with the back of his index finger.
"happy valentines day, my love ♡"
"happy valentines day, jungkook ♡"
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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taglist: @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt
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ohdeerfully · 2 months
Note
K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)
omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!
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Mourning Dove
Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.
“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”
“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”
He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.
“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”
You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.
“Okay.” 
She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.
In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.
You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.
“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.
“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”
“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.
You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 
Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 
You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.
Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.
Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.
You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.
Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.
The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.
The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.
“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.
“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”
“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.
“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.
You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…
You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.
You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.
Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.
You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.
“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”
“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”
You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.
“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.
“I know.”
Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.
You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 
You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 
You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.
You watched as his eyes opened again.
“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.
Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.
“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.
“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.
“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.
It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.
Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.
Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.
“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”
“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”
Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.
“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”
Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 
“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.
The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.
Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.
Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.
He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.
“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.
Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.
You had promised him.
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altruisticalastor · 2 months
Text
↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!
☒ Word Count: 2,672
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You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 
Your mind lamented with turmoil. 
Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 
This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.
You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  
And when you danced, it was effortless.
But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?
You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 
Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 
No matter how hard he tried.
And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 
There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.
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Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.
What could he do to make you remember him?
It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 
Love is patient but waits for no one. 
Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 
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Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 
"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"
Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 
Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 
Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 
Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.
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Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.
"A photo or... an heirloom?"
Husker, you mindless genius.
Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 
And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.
The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 
It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.
Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 
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Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 
Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 
Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 
Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 
Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 
Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 
Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 
Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.
"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."
Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 
"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.
Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 
"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 
"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 
"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"
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The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.
Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 
You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.
"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 
"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."
Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.
You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.
It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 
You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 
The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.
Oh... you were crying? 
Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 
The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.
You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 
Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 
In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 
The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 
Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.
Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 
"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.
"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 
It was because Alastor was your home.
"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.
"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."
A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.
He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 
You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 
Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 
The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.
"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 
"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"
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yall want smut for the next part or..............
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