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asmo-ds · 3 years

Note

Ok so you made a list on they guys toxic traits. How would they react if the MC just snaped one day and broke out into sob because of what they did and say to them and the MC calls them out on it pointed put how Diavolo doesn't do or say the shit they do and hes full blood demon unlike them all in a croaked voice from crying so hard

React to MC Calling Them Out on Their Toxicity

Obey Me Brothers x MC angst HCs

Warnings: Yelling, toxic relationships, breakdowns, violence, Mammon being the guardian he was assigned to be :)

Summary: When MC finally breaks down and calls them out on their toxic behavior towards the human the boys finally realize just how different human emotions are from the creatures in hell they’ve grown so accustomed to.

I’m putting the contents of the original post this ask referred to under each of the characters to make it clearer for those who have not seen it

i know Lucifer is hot sexy big sex dominant professional daddy master man BUT please remember he shows his love via punishment and cruelty towards his family

- Lucifer was in the middle of hanging a crying Mammon upside down when it happened.

- “He’s in pain Lucifer, you should let him down! There are better ways to handle this,” MC had suggested only to be met with a low growl followed by:

- “Stay out of this, human, you are here to attend RAD and nothing else. Do not butt into our personal business.”

- He could practically feel MC’s upset expression as he continued to tie the knots around Mammon’s body

- “I’m a human, correct,” MC starts and he’s startled by their cold voice, “but what makes me human is my inability to stand by while someone I know is in so much pain!”

- Lucifer is a bit taken back by their boldness and is in his demon form holding them up by the throat in seconds.

- “Who the Hell do you think you are?!” He snarled, tightening his grip and pushing their struggling body against the wall harshly, causing their head to bounce off the wall with a loud thump, blood slowly beginning to trickle from the sight of the impact

- He could barely hear Mammon’s frantic cries for him to let go of the human as his adrenaline rushed, unable to believe that the human had actually spoken to him like that,

- He was suddenly ripped away from MC, thrown across the room and he looked up to see Diavolo had come

- “I had some paperwork I wanted to give you but instead walked in on you taking advantage of your strength over someone smaller than you, you’re pathetic,” Diavolo snarled, disgusted by Lucifer’s actions

- MC wailed and threw themselves against Diavolo, him tightly embracing them and trying to soothe them

- “Y-y-you’re the Lord of Demons and yet,” they sniffled and hiccupped into Diavolo’s chest as he continued to glare at Lucifer, who could only watch on in despair as he realized what he had done, “and yet you a-are so mu-uch kinder than them, th-thank you Diavolo!”

- “Wait, MC! I’m sorry!” Lucifer began to stand before realizing Mammon had managed to escape and was now holding him down, preventing him form moving toward the trembling human.

- “Lucifer... I don’t want to see you ever again!” MC had cried as Diavolo and them left the house.

- After MC was brought to the demon lord’s castle he received word from Barbatos that he had been suspended from his duties until further notice per the request of Diavolo.

- Barbatos also collected MC’s stuff, moving it to the Demon Lord’s castle where they would spend the rest of the year

- Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to leave his room, afraid of his brothers’ judgmental looks, he refused to see how much he had hurt the family and the relationship with the human he’d done so much to care for in just a matter of thirty seconds.

- Lucifer never forgives himself for hurting MC, but he acts like he was in the right for the sake of his ego.

- But he really missed MC and was angry with himself for letting them go so easily and for not just accepting that maybe they were right and he could change for them

- Everyone notices a decrease in the cruelty he showed towards his brothers

- how did a human manage to stir up these feelings within him?

I know Mammon is an adorable tsundere with a chaotic streak BUT please remember he also insults MC in order to keep up his own self image of being a “tough demon” even if he loves MC underneath the mask

- Mammon had been on his way back from getting scolded for stealing from Lucifer’s wallet once again, when he ran into MC

- “Mammon! What’s wrong? Are you Okay?!” He hastily wiped the tears from his face, MC really cares about me... a blush rises to his cheeks at that thought

- “Nothin’ is wrong, mind yer business,” he shoves past them

- “but you’re clearly hurting, Mammon let me help!”

- “I don’t need help from a stupid human,” he says, not turning to look at them due to his still red cheeks as he continued to be flustered by their concern for him

- “Stupid human....” he heard MC say quietly back to themselves, his heart sinking as he realized he said it so harshly

- “Hold on-MC- I didn-” he starts but is frozen in shock as he sees the human glaring at the floor with tears streaming down their cheeks, biting their lips to keep sobs trapped inside themselves. “MC, hey liste-” He reaches out to touch their shoulder but they jerk away turning from him.

- “Not even the demon who is meant to be the cruelest of them all calls me names for wanting to help him,” their voice trembled and his heart broke, “I just wanted to help... why do you insist on insulting me?”

- MC ran away from him, leaving the house, passing Asmo and Satan as they left.

- Satan chased after MC as Asmodeus walked up to Mammon, slapping him across the face harshly, “why can’t you just be honest with them for once?! Don’t you realize how badly you’ve been hurting them because you refuse to be nice to stroke your own ‘bad boy’ ego?!”

- Mammon stared at the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks silently, “I-I didn’t mean to hurt them,”

- “But you did. Not to mention you never even apologize for it,” Asmodeus walks away, leaving Mammon to stand alone, shamefully hanging his head as he fell to his knees.

- The one person who ever cared about him and he did nothing but insult them and yet still expected them to love him? What a douchebag he was...

- Guess he was nothing but a greedy scumbag

i know Levi is a cute blushy otaku recluse that we all want to top BUT he also gets jealous very easily which leads to him often getting violent or guilt tripping MC by insulting himself until they feel guilty and stay with him to make him feel better despite their own wishes

- Leviathan had jus ordered a new game titled “I just landed in Hell, seven hot demon lords are my roommates and I’m trying really hard not to fuck them”

- He rushed towards MC’s room, desperate for them to play with him

- He walked in without knocking and saw MC cuddled up with Mammon and Beel, watching some movie that none of them seemed to actually pay attention to as they just horsed around.

- “Hey, MC! I just got a new game, come on let’s go play it!” he tried not to let his jealousy show.

- “Ah, maybe later Levi, I’m hanging out with Beel and Mammon right now!” MC smiles kindly, to which he grows a bit sad

- “I get it... who would want to hangout with a yucky otaku like me anyway...” he lowers his head pouting

- “Levi, just give me a few minutes to finish the movie!” MC says, still trying to be kind and patient

- “No you don’t have to... I’m just going to go play alone like the loser I am...”

- “DON’T” MC stands up, Beel and Mammon watching as MC walks up to Levi, thinking that the human was going to go with him and play

- Levi smiles thinking the same thing and gets ready to leave, but instead MC comes to him and glares at him, making his heart sink

- “You do NOT get to guilt trip me like that,” MC growls, “I told you I need a minute, I never said any of that stuff and I KNOW you were saying that stuff just to get me to come with you instead of staying here,” Levi blushes as MC calls him out, his heart beating rapidly with nerves as he realizes just how mad MC was at him

- MC pushes him out of their room, slamming the door and he hears them mumbling some angry stuff to the other two brothers behind the door

- Ashamed of himself he goes back to his room and locks himself there for a few weeks, kind of waiting for MC to come check on him and apologize, but then he realizes that is exactly why they are mad at him, so he decides to try and get his shit together

- But his anxiety gets in the way and he decides MC would be better off without him and he tries to avoid them no matter how much he craves their attention

i know Satan is an intelligent man who is trying his best to keep his anger in check at all times BUT if you are in a relationship where someone is getting mad at you constantly despite their efforts pls look out for yourself and let yourself be selfish and avoid the person no matter how bad it may hurt them because your own happiness should come first

- After a fight with Lucifer, Satan had gone to his room to blow off some steam

- He was storming around and throwing things and throwing a temper tantrum

- MC came to check on him and they knocked politely, calling his name and asking if they could come in

- Despite using their manners and being as respectful as possible; their interruption of his tantrum pissed him the hell off

- He swung the door open and pushed them down, eyeing them like a normal demon would; nothing but an innocent soul to munch on

- MC tried to escape but he caught their ankle, and dangled them like a rag doll as his claws sunk into the limb he held

- He could see their mouth moving and tears streaming down their face but he couldn’t process the words they were wailing

- He only stopped when Mammon punched him harshly, causing him to drop the human and go flying through the nearest wall, which happened to be Asmodeus’s, who was infuriated by the destruction of his room, but his focus immediately turned to Mammon and the trembling human he held

- Satan could barely hear or see much of anything anymore as Mammon’s punch had knocked him nearly out-cold

- Later when his senses came back he went to MC to apologize

- When he walked in they screamed and cowered in the corner.

- “MC, I won’t hurt you I promise-”

- “You always say that! You promised to never hurt me, Satan! All I wanted was to see if you wanted anything to help you calm down but you decided that was reason enough to try and eat my soul. For fuck’s sake, Diavolo is the Demon Lord and he isn’t half as cruel and manipulative as you are!” He watched the human tremble and cry their response out

- The loud noises had once again caught the attention of the humans guardian for their time in the Devildom

- Mammon walked in and grabbed Satan by the collar, dragging him out the door and slamming it behind him

- Satan sat against the wall and could hear how much pain MC was in as they cried to Mammon and he wanted nothing more than to run in there and take his place but he knew he had royally fucked up

- Scared of his own anger, he decided to not leave his room unless he was attending RAD, family meals, or the Library, because he was so afraid of making the human he had loved afraid and he didn’t want them to feel so much pain just by seeing him

i know Asmodeus is a cute feminine boy with a love for self care and pampering and fashion BUT he always be littles others for not being as good or pretty as him and is super gossipy

- MC had come to school after a sleepover with Asmo, where things got deep and emotional and MC’s most shameful secret was revealed to him

- and he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. he really wasn’t going to but...

- MC noticed the weird stares followed by giggles of the succubi at RAD, clearly whispering about MC which made their stomach feel sick

- MC wasn’t sure what the deal was today until a succubus came up to them at lunch,

- “hey human, i heard that *insert your most humiliating memory*” she snickers with her friends, watching mc turn pale

- Unable to form words MC bolted out of there

- Unluckily for Asmodeus, MC just do happened to run into him

- “Ah! MC, dear, be careful or you and I will both ends up bruised-“ he’s cut off by a slapping sound

- he’s in so much shock he doesn’t even realize MC had slapped him for a few seconds

- “I should’ve known better than to trust you with my secrets.” MC growled, turning around to storm off, “Guess I forgot you were a demon. No, demons are like Diavolo, they at least have some itty bit of kindness in their hearts. You. You’re a monster.”

- Asmo watched them storm off and felt tears come to his eyes

- They were right, for once he had someone who loved him for more than power, looks, and sex, and what did he do? He hurt them and destroyed their reputation.

- He eventually fell off of his skincare routine and stopped coming home every night, instead, he was too busy partying and passing out in strangers’ beds and being glad the demons and succubi who dances with him and slept with him didn’t care for his personality

- cuz he knew his personality was the one part of him that was ugly as hell and he hated it

i know Beelzebub is a gentle giant who cares for his entire family BUT he also throws tantrums that hurt people when he gets hungry and isn’t given food asap

- After his sports practice, he was starving and on edge

- He hungrily eyed a strangers’ meal as he and MC walked home from the campus

- “Beel, don’t even think about stealing that poor demon’s food,” MC scolded him, unknowingly lighting a fuse inside of him

- He shifted to his demon form and grabbed MC by the shoulders harshly

- “Well what else am I supposed to eat?! Do you want me to eat you?!” He shook them, making them whimper out in pain as his claws dug into their flesh

- “B-Beel, you’re hurting me!” MC cried out, but he was too hungry to care and leaned in, about to take a bite out of the poor human before he felt himself get pulled away and pin against the ground

- “Beelzebub, just what in the Devildom do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer’s chilling voice snarled at his younger brother, a crowd forming to watch the two demon lords fight

- “I’m HUNGRY!” Beelzebub went to strike Lucifer, but instead, MC being MC, grabbed his arm to try and stop him, causing him to fling them against the wall, them hitting it with a loud cracking sound, blood pouring out from the back of their head as they rubbed it

- Seeing them bleed made him more hungry but then he saw the look of despair and disappointment that he had seen on his younger sister so many years ago and he snapped out of it

- “MC!” Lucifer rushed to the human’s side, picking them up gently and giving Beel one last cold look before flying off quickly to the Demon Lord’s castle, where Barbatos would be able to heal MC

- Beelzebub felt his hunger dissipate, instead, the guilt eating away at him as the sight of MC’s despair filled eyes flashed through his head

- When MC returned later that night he went to apologize when he heard them in the kitchen

- “MC,” they flinched and whipped around, immediately using one hand to grip their head as dizziness struck them for a moment, the other hand out in front of them in a defensive manner

- Beel’s heart broke and he felt tears starting to form as he started to approach them, intending to hug them comfortingly

- “STAY RIGHT THERE!” MC yelled, their pact forcing his feet to stay planted where they were

- “Y-you don’t have to apologize okay? I should have known better than to scold a monster,” he winced at the word but let them continue, “But that said it isn’t entirely my fault. Every other demon in that plaza could smell me and didn’t pounce me, they had better control than that. Even when I go out alone nobody attacks me! Hell, even the Demon Lord himself isn’t cruel enough to attack me I-I just, please, stay away from me Beel,” and when they looked up he had tears streaming down his face and he was biting his lips to keep from crying

- As badly as they wanted to comfort the crying boy, they knew that they would be putting their own safety at risk if they were to forgive him and make him think he would be so easily forgiven

- Beelzebub suddenly started to stop feeling hungry as every time his stomach growled all he could see was the image of himself about to bite into MC and he would start to feel sick to his stomach

- He doesn’t forgive himself and gets really depressed because he thinks MC’s pain is his fault just like Lilith’s death

i know Belphegor is a sleepy baby with a love for pranks and mischief BUT he literally killed MC but as soon as he found out they were a descendant of his little sister he suddenly just flipped a switch and didn’t even really apologize

- MC was sleeping in the attic next to Belphegor, tossing and turning as a nightmare filled their head

- They could practically feel his claws wrapped around their frail neck snapping it and laughing as they faded from their body

- MC sat up panting and screaming, Belphegor waking up and rubbing his eyes sleepily as he wrapped his arms around MC

- “NO NO NO GET OFF OF ME STOP IT” they continued to scream, flailing around in his embrace, he refused to let go though, convinced they just needed a hug to comfort them from whatever had scared them so bad

- They began to sob hysterically, their voice screaming out for Mammon

- Panicking he continued to hold them in place, afraid if he let go they’d sprint off

- and he was right, they bit his arm and he pulled away as they stood up and sprinted down the hall

- “MC WAIT” he chased after them, worried they’d get hurt

- As they saw the door of their guardian (Mammon), they called out his name

- Belphegor placed a hand over their mouth, worried about the others waking up, but it was too late as Mammon and Satan had both been woken by the cries of the human

- “HELP ME MAMMON PLEASE” MC sobbed, Belphegor sending a panicked and hurt look to his brothers

- Mammon pushed Belphie away as he took MC back into his room to calm them down

- After a mini-argument with Satan that ended up getting shut down by Lucifer, he went back to bed

- The next morning he saw MC was sitting at the breakfast table and he smiled at them, only to watch them shoot a look to Mammon, who then pulled their chair closer to his own protectively

- They all ate in silence, the awkward and tense atmosphere keeping anybody from starting a conversation

- After everyone else left he went up to MC and cornered them, covering their mouth to keep them quiet so he could say what he needed to

- “I already apologized for everything so why do you still need to freak out whenever you see me?!” he asked, annoyed that despite his apology for killing MC, they still felt uncomfortable around him

- They slapped his hand away, “You didn’t really apologize. You only apologized because I’m a descendant of your dead sister, you didn’t apologize to me, MC, you apologized to Lilith,” MC shoves him and starts to walk away from the stunned demon

- “Its kind of funny that despite all the problems I’ve caused for his program, Diavolo has never tried to kill me.” MC says before finally making their exit

- Belphegor gets lost in his own thoughts after that, as he finally realized that he had been seeing them as a replacement Lilith rather than themselves

- even if he wanted to try apologizing again, he was unable to as Mammon became more and more protective of them, shooing Belphie away with dirty looks anytime they were in the same room

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Just an idea for a concept but no pressure: cheating harry and y/n just finished having sex and they are cuddling (u know being all cute and I love) and Anna turns up at Harry’s door seeing if they can hang out coz they never do and he wasn’t answering his phone and she tried to just walk into his place like he did when she turned up and they were watching that movie (I’m not sure of the name of the concept) and he had to force her to stay outside and it’s really angst between them coz she gets really suspicious but eventually leaves and he just goes and cuddled in bed with y/n and they laugh about it

Disruptions

warnings: cheating, smut, brief mention of domestic violence, panic attacks, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

if you enjoyed this blurb - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

—

“Puppy, yeah,” Harry murmurs encouragingly, she was almost there and she looked like an angel in the low light, “Y’look so pretty, give it t’me.”

YN whines in the back of her throat, her hips were slowly rolling forward as she sat atop of him - trying milk that friction of her clit.

“Sweet thing, c’mon,” Harry goads, gripping her waist with strong hands to speed up her languid rolls as he wants her to finish before him.

“Close, H,” YN sweetly chirps, letting him lead her motions until she’s halting and throwing her head back in bliss, lips parting and eye squeezed shut.

“There y’go, good fuckin’ girl,” He praises her before giving two more pumps before he’s releasing right after her.

As he is in the midsts of his orgasm, he hears a quiet ‘I love you’ from above him as she rubs at his chest as he rides it out.

Harry could have heard that whisper from across the fucking ocean, it has him sitting up and pulling her into a hard kiss before babbling against her sore lips.

“Puppy, I love you. You’re so perfect for me. Y’don’t even have t’wonder why you’re the only one I give it to,” He tells her confidently, panting against her mouth.

She doesn’t say anything but her smile is enough for him, he carefully pulls out and flips her on her back before grabbing a towel and wiping her down with adoration deep in his bones.

When she had just curled in to his side, pressing her bare chest against his warm skin, he kisses the top of her head, “You’re my favorite person, y’know that?”

“Harry,” She says, barely above a whisper with her face nuzzled in tight - shying away from what she really feels.

“Please baby,” He replies softly, she knows what he asking for and she will never say no to him when it comes to this.

“I know. I love you s-so much.”

“Whoa, pup. Don’t cry,” Harry chuckles sweetly, “I know, I know you do. Believe me I do.”

She nods, sniffling, she sometimes get emotional after they had intimate slow sex as opposed to the high intensity, lust-driven kind.

It’s quiet as Harry scratches up and down her back, soothing her like he always has and always will, no matter what.

He always finds inner peace when her breathing slows and her facial features relax - all worries and anxiety disappearing.

She had just let out a light snore when he hears a banging on his front door, loud and insistent, and it has YN sitting straight up in bed.

“Wha-Harry, I-who?” YN stammers, her chest starting to heave as she begins to panic from the sudden noise.

“Harry, you have to leave,” YN whimpers, the knocking deafening on the front door, “My mum locked him out and he’s going to break it down.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone!” He hisses back, standing up and locking her bedroom door, “Let’s go sneak out the window to my house.”

—-

Harry’s automatically furious with whoever it is, the love of his life triggered as he just knows she’s reliving one of her awful memories.

“Sweetheart, please breathe. S’okay, you know I’d never let anything hurt you. Never have, never will,” Harry coos, he’s standing up to walk to his closet, reaching up for the weighted blanket he keeps for her. “I’m gonna go see who it is.”

“Y-you can’t! You’ll get hurt! Don’t, please,” she begs, eyes wide in fear for him and his safety as she pants.

Harry wraps her like a burrito in the blanket before looking her firmly in her eye, “Remember what your therapist said for when you’re panicking. Do that, please baby.”

She searches his eyes before hesitantly letting hers close, focusing on her breathing and imaging a happy place away from here - a meadow with Harry is what she likes to think about.

Harry slips on his briefs and athletic shorts with annoyance - well absolute rage really. He’s stomping down his stairs with loud steps.

He whips open the front door to see Anna standing there with a pursed look, “Oh, look! So you are alive! What a miracle.”

Harry automatically glares at her, “It’s past bloody midnight, what are you doing here?”

She scoffs in disbelief, “You ditched me tonight! You were suppose to come to the bar with my friends and I! And then you just never answered your phone.”

Yeah, well he had forgotten because YN wanted to watch a new movie and he could never say no to YN.

“I fuckin’ forgot, shit,” Harry huffs, not moving aside to let her in as she steps forward.

“Well, I came over so we could hang out,” Her voice mellowing out a little bit, features softening as she reaches out to stroke his bicep.

All he could think about was his afraid little love upstair using her coping skills to deal with the panic Anna had set off.

“Why would I want to hang out at fuckin’ two-thirty in the mornin’?” Harry replies blandly, like she’s an idiot.

“We could cuddle? Watch a movie?” Anna suggests with a shrug, attempting to giving him a coy look, “Fuck?”

They’d never even done anything apart from a few pecks.

“S’late, I’m too tired for this bullshit.”

“How is that bullshit? It’s so fucking annoying Harry! I know if you’re little bitch of a friend wanted to do that you would!”

She was completely right.

When he hears the vulgar name being thrown at YN, he grits his teeth and says, “Watch your fuckin’ tone, I’ll text y’tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” Anna surrenders angrily, turning on her heel and storming back to her car.

Harry slams his door shut so she gets the hint but then automatically feels regretful as he knows it didn’t make YN feel any better.

When he goes up to the bedroom, she’s not in the bed, and Harry hears the shower going so he’s stepping into his bathroom.

It’s a glass door and he can see the beautiful form of her from behind it. There’s not steam in the room because he knows the water is cold.

Not ice cold but barely warm.

When the imagery and breathing didn’t help, usually a cold shower was next, and Harry carefully slides open the door.

“Hi baby,” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on hers and nowhere else - not wandering or curious like they’d be if she was okay.

“Hi,” She answers shakily, her eyes were a bit swollen and puffy but she was giving him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Do y’need anythin’?”

He wasn’t going to ask to come in because it wasn’t about him.

YN nods, “Will you come hold me? I-it’s cold so if you don’t want to-“

He’s already stripping, he’s hold her in the waters of Antarctica if she asked - he was so bloody gone for her, past the point of self-preservation.

Harry’s wrapping her up in his arms, trying to hide his grimace at the cold stream - colder than her usual but she rarely gets woken up like that.

Therapy had been doing wonders for her.

It may seem like it’s still an intense reaction but it had improved so much from where she had started before the help.

—

Harry had a key to her apartment and he had texted her multiple times that’s he was coming over but she must have forgotten.

She was cleaning her kitchen when he opened the door.

Luckily, he managed to duck as a plate comes hurling at him. This wasn’t the first time it’s happened - not close.

As it hits the wall and shatters, he looks up to find her guiltily meeting his gaze before mumbling out an apology.

He steps over it, meeting her in the kitchen, and kissing her nose, “S’okay, y’didnt get me. I just wished you weren’t so scared, pup.”

—

“It was Anna,” YN states against his damp skin.

“Yeah, I ditched her and she was pissed,” Harry shrugs, unbothered and coldly uncaring about the situation.

“Mmm,” She acknowledges lowly, her hands snaking around his waist.

“Please.”

It was simple, YN knew what he was asking.

Please let me break up with her.

It hurt YN just as much when she couldn’t do anything but shake her head ‘no’ and swallow harshly.

—

Whew doggy. Thoughts?

#harry styles cheating #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry #harry styles writing

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eideticmemory · 3 years

Text

DOWN THE HALL | SPENCER REID

Spencer lives down the hall, and likes to spend more time dicking you down than telling you the important things.

Word Count: 4k.

Warning: Sex w/ S2 Spencer.

207.

Not very far from 210, where not two months ago, you settled down in the heart of DC. You first met him when he was coming up the steps, and like an awkward television moment. Your eyes met, you went still, stunned from any movement, your key stuck in the lock of your door.

And although he felt it too, the connection, the attraction, the momentary pause in time. He didn’t react. He stopped, he saw, he kept walking. All the way to unit 207, where he’d lived for over a year.

In your wildest dreams, he would give you just a second of his time. He was like a blur. Never there. Gone in an instant, constantly moving. He often came home late at night, sometimes two, three in the morning.

Tonight, he came home at midnight. He pounded on your door exactly thirty-seven minutes after the hour. You weren’t asleep by any means, but you were comfortable in your bed. Completely surrounded by bliss and safety, suddenly pulled to fear by the sudden knock.

You answered the door in your pajamas, a lamp in the grasp of your hand, prepared to defend yourself in the most ridiculous way possible. You dropped it to the ground when you saw him.

“Hi.”

“Hi . . . [y/n], right?” he greeted, too tired to put on the facade of a bubbly appearance. His sweater vest was clenched in his fist at his side, his tie loosened around his neck, only just revealing his chest underneath.

You, dressed in gray long sleeve and green shorts, tried desperately to hide yourself behind the door. “Yeah,” you murmured.

“Hi, uh, I’m Spencer — Reid. I live in 207,” he told you. A formal introduction.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.”

“I’ve seen you, too,” he sighed. “Which is why I’m here, listen, [y/n], would you like to come over?”

“I — “ you stuttered, visibly taken aback. “When?”

“Now.”

“Now? Now? I — for all you know, you could be a serial killer or something.”

He let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head, “No, no, I’m not a serial killer . . . the opposite, actually.”

The way you saw it: you could be stupid, and not go with this gorgeous man. Or be stupid, and go with this gorgeous man. There was really one answer. “Okay . . . okay, let me change — “

“What you have on is fine,” he nodded to you, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walked down the hall.

Your jaw dropped just slightly, “Okay.” And you followed him, your socks pressing to the hardwood of the hallway floor.

He closed the door behind you, and it felt final. Locked in. You turned to him, after being distracted by the allure of his apartment, and he was suddenly two feet away from you. You gasped, “Really making me believe you’re a serial killer, dude.”

“Sorry . . . sorry,” he whispered, taking a step back. “I just — didn’t think you’d actually come. Didn’t have a plan.”

“Oh, now you’re shy?”

Spencer cracked a smile.

Finally.

“Bad day?” you asked.

“Bad.”

“Well . . . I don’t know what you’re, usual coping skills are, but um, if this is your very deranged version of a booty call, I accept.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, “Booty call?” he repeated, not understanding the term in the slightest.

You let out a dry chuckle, “Okay . . . okay, um . . .” You moved in with your hands ready to hold his face in your palms. His skin was warm, red, soft. Just like his lips. His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, in a desperate attempt to keep you close.

You pulled away, his temples between your hands, whispered, “Is that what you wanted?”

And instead of saying a simple ‘yes,’ he pushed his body against yours, pulled you in by your waist and stuck his tongue in your mouth.

It was a heavy mix of attempts to breathe between kisses, you tripping over your feet as Spencer began to kiss your neck, feverishly pushing you to his bedroom. You fell back onto his bed, completely spread open for his to see. To touch. To kiss. To climb on top of.

By sheer luck of his, you weren’t wearing underwear, and it drove him crazy how wet you already were. He pushed your shorts to the side and you melted against his fingers as they pressed to your clit, slid inside of you. He hummed a soft moan against your cheek, using his hips and wrist to push his fingers further inside of you. God, you don’t know how he did it, but your legs were already shaking. You gripped onto the soft material of his shirt, your jaw dropping to release a gasp.

You couldn’t comprehend how his fingers made you feel so full. How they struck in just the right spot, so deep, so much pressure. “Fuck,” you slipped.

“I’m not even doing anything,” Spencer said. Not cocky, not arrogant. Just clueless. It was cute.

“So do something,” you wanted it to be an order. But it came out as a beg.

Either way, he delivered. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you could feel your entire body tense up. He was fast, and aggressive, more than you anticipated. His hands pushed your shirt up over your chest. He took his time, teasing your nipples with his fingertips, blowing on them just to keep them hard before he put his mouth on them. It was all tongue, slimy and sticky and topped off with tight suction.

Tangling your hands in his hair, you release frail whimpers into the air. Your hips moved desperately against his hand, chasing an orgasm that was so close, it was just mean. You called out Spencer’s name, and he responded by railing his fingers into you so hard, your toes curled on impact.

“Oh, God,” you whined.

His mind pieced together the clues like fragments of glass. The heat between your legs, the shuffling of your thighs, your increased in volume, the way you pulled at his clothes, his hair, his skin. You were so close. And he was going to get you there, no need to worry.

His mouth left a wet trail from your breasts to your navel. The palm of his hand pushed your thighs apart, just making enough room for his head. “God, fuck,” his mouth was red hot, and slick. His tongue pressed into just the right spot on your clit, and swiped up with a hard and fast motion. Over, and over, and over.

It was so good. The combination of his long fingers, and quick tongue, and the warmth of his hand holding your tummy down. You pulled and scratched at him in some weak effort to ease the intensity, but he was so good. Where you needed it, he gave it to you. Until the tension in your body became too much to bear, and you came in a tantrums of moans and gasps. Both of his hands grabbed your thighs as they tightened around his face, and his tongue worked on you until every last drop was squeezed out of you.

You went to catch your breath, but his mouth was back on yours. His face was red, and turned a dark crimson when you undid his pants. Your head was heavy, and your vision was still a bit blurry, so you let your hands lead the way. You only looked down when his cock was caught in your hand, hard and big and pulsing for you, aching for you. You kissed Spencer’s neck, your tongue tracing a line down his throat as he reached over to grab a condom. His body was trembling, struggling to hold back from the pleasure.

The condom rolled over him pornographically, contrasting against the fabric of his pants. His belt rang as he pushed himself into you, and it was cold on your stomach. Just beneath the surface, Spencer was filling you up to the brink, and God, did you feel full. His hands were positioned beside your head, each other gripping onto the pillow with all his strength.

Even in the dark, you could see his pupils were dilated to the size of Jupiter, and his teeth dug into his lip as his hips dug into yours. His movements were slow at first, unsure. But as he moved in and out of you, made you squeak and moan, he realized that you liked it. That he was doing a good job, and he better keep it up. So he picked up the pace, a lot. You were taking as much of a beating as the headboard, but your moaning was loud enough to mask the noise. Spencer only gave you primal grunts in your ear, until you hooked your legs around his waist. Then his jaw dropped, and the gates were open.

It was almost musical, the sounds you guys made together. Growing louder when one of you would claw at the other, or bite onto the other’s shoulder just to stay grounded. And Spencer seemed to get more determined with time, placing your ankles on his shoulders, bending you in half just to get as deep inside of you as possible.

He had you in tears almost. So little time, but still so, so close. The pressure was deep, making you whimper with each thrust Spencer delivered without mercy. You held your fingers to the back at his neck, holding him in place with his forehead against yours. You pleaded, with your eyes, your voice, “Keep going, ke--keep going.”

He paused to hold his cock deep inside of you, just long enough to make you cry out, then his fingers found their way to your clit. They were fast, and his hips struggled to keep up. But either way, the pleasure was blinding and weakening. When you came, you gave him all you had. Absolutely all you had. He watched it happen. Watched your face, to make sure he remembered it. And he will remember it.

He’ll remember it as the face that laid there, underneath him, and watched him come undone. Your grunts and groans lined up perfectly with each of his final thrusts, reaching their peak as Spencer breathed out a long and life-sucking orgasm, shaking helplessly against you while he rode it out.

Dazed doesn’t begin to describe it -- the feeling of laying there afterwards. You just laid there, looking at him, thinking:

207.

I’m going to fall in love with the guy in 207 if he keeps fucking me like this.

“Oh . . .” Spencer said, noticing you crawling out of his bed. “You’re welcome to sleep in here, I can . . . I can take the couch.”

You chuckled, “Yeah, yeah, that’s not quite how the whole booty call thing works. But, um, if you want to see me again . . . you know where I live.”

That, he did.

And he was a frequent visitor. For months. You never did pinpoint where he worked, or what he did. His hours were never consistent. Weekends, late nights, even later nights. The poor thing would be so tired. He’d use the very last bit of all of his strength to fuck you, suck you, make you come until you were too worn out to move. Then, he’d just pass out. He once fell asleep in your arms at one in the morning. You touched the bridge of his nose, ran your finger over his swollen lips, felt the sweat on his jaw.

207, you thought.

God, the guy in 207 is beautiful.

The absolute latest -- or, earliest -- encounter you had was at six in the morning. He woke you out of a deep sleep with a phone call. His contact flashed on the screen, only noted with the initials SR, and it was accompanied by his voice, telling you he was at your door. The sun was rising, shining softly on you two through the window. It was the first time Spencer ever fully undressed for you. He was even more beautiful than you’d initially thought, and you were free to touch every inch of him. Feel the way his skin heated up, and watch how it turned red under your touch.

He pinned your hands over your head while you came, kept whispering to you. “It’s okay, [y/n], let it out. Let it go.”

You did. It was the first night you two received a noise complaint. The first time you saw Spencer hunched over in laughter. After your next door neighbor had returned to her apartment.

“This is funny to you?” You asked, but you couldn’t contain your own laughter.

Spencer responded with a cackle. He was bent over, hands on his knees, dying of laughter. Another noise complaint had to be on it’s way. “God,” he laughed. “I’m so tired. I’m so — I’m —“ he was cut off by another fit of giggles. And all you could do was watch, wait.

He choked out his last few chuckles, and stood up straight, breathing in a deep gust of air. “Can I make you breakfast?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, grinning, “You think you should be allow around an open flame right now? Seriously?”

“Come on.”

The sun was in full bloom, bright and illuminating the space in Spencer’s apartment. You sat at his kitchen table, observing him in a trance. His sweatpants were hanging off of his hips, topped with a loose red t-shirt that stuck out against his pale skin. His hair was still disheveled, and covering his face. Standing over two pans of eggs and bacon, the heat caused sweat to bead on his forehead. Every once in a while, he’d turn his head to look at you. Like he knew you weren’t taking your eyes off him. He’d smile, you’d smile back, and watch him as he continued back to his cooking.

207, you thought.

Fuck, I’m falling for the guy in 207.

But that was the last time you saw him.

The last time he called, the last time he came over, the last time you went to his place. It was the last late night booty call Spencer Reid had to offer.

And it made you feel like shit. Shitty, and angry, and so confused. Shitty, because, well, you were no longer getting the dick you were accustomed to. Angry, because what the fuck? And confused, because . . . because you don’t know what you did. Don’t know how he went from looking at you with that soft glimmer in his eyes, to barely looking at you at all.

From fucking you, every night that he could, to having his number deleted from your phone. That didn’t stop you from sleeping beside it every night, hoping, wishing, that it would just ring. That it was just work keeping him from you.

But after three weeks, you finally came to terms with the fact that it probably wasn’t work. Your mind went into overload, imaging all the things it could be, and the one thing that would not leave your brain: It’s another girl. It had to be. It had to be. Because, as much it hurt, it hurt less than thinking he had just forgotten about you.

The night he finally spoke to you again, was the first night you slept properly in weeks. It was a deep sleep, and for once — for once, in a fucking blue moon — you didn’t dream of Spencer.

So, of course he showed up at your door at midnight.

You awoke like you’d been waiting for the sound. In a lot of ways, you had been, but in no way were you prepared for it. You hopped out of bed, rushed to the door so fast that you were sliding in your socks.

“Wow,” Spencer breathed. “So you . . . always look this beautiful when you wake up . . .”

You went to slam the door in his face, but he stopped it with his palm, “[y/n], wait, please —“

You sighed, and pulled the door open, hand on your hip, avoiding eye contact. From the quick glimpse you caught of him, he looked like he hadn’t sleep in almost a month. His eyes lost their light, his skin lost it’s color, his shoulders were slouched in exhaustion. The wrinkled shirt he had one was buttoned unevenly, and his feet were bare.

“I just . . .” he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know who else to go to, I’m sorry.”

You crossed your arms at him, “What’s wrong?” you asked, reluctantly.

“Can you . . . can you just come over?”

“Are you kidding? You ghost me, and expect me to come over and fuck? Are you seri —“

“[y/n].” He interrupted you, his voice stern. It shut you up immediately. “Can you just come over, please.”

The look on his face was full of stress. Aching, longing, tiredness. One month. One month of radio silence, and he thinks you’ll roll out of bed and fuck him?

He’s absolutely right.

The door to his apartment was cracked open, and from the threshold, you could hear the faintest sound. Almost a whine. You stepped in slowly, while Spencer rushed passed you after closing the door. He crossed the apartment, over to his bedroom where he disappeared almost instantly.

And here you thought he was really learning the ropes of the whole booty call thing. You entered the room, with your head hung low, ready to slide into his bed.

“How are you? Does your head still hurt?” he whispered.

Confused, thinking he was talking to you, you lifted your head up, stopped in your tracks. The little girl laying in Spencer’s bed was curled up into a ball, looking at him with a face of pure pain. Their faces mirrored one another’s, in an eerie way. The sadness, the exhaustion, they portrayed their emotions the exact same way.

She gave him a nod, and like she’d been waiting for Spencer to return, she broke into tears. Tears, and loud wails, and writhing around as she coddled her forehead. Spencer held her against his chest, rocking her in an attempt to soothe her. He turned to you, his eyes saying one word: Help.

You were frozen, yet somehow able to move your feet. You took a seat beside the little girl, looked at her, then Spencer, her, then Spencer. Her.

“Cassie, this is my friend, [y/n],” he told her. But Cassie only cried louder.

Her cries were unbearable, sad. You sighed to yourself, looked at Spencer until he gave you a nod.You reached in slowly to pressed your palm to Cassie’s forehead.

“Oh, goodness, honey, you’re burning up,” you said. Giving Spencer one last look, you asked, “May I?”

Spencer said a quiet “yes,” before handing Cassie over you. The little one rested her head on your shoulder, as you cradled her in your arms.

You rose to your feet, and carried her to Spencer’s bathroom, where you immediately cut on the shower. The rush of water was barely loud enough to drown out her cries. You began to undress her, removing her pajamas.

“Do you have any children’s tylenol?” you asked Spencer as you sat Cassie in the tub.

“I—i—it’s cooold!” she wailed.

“I know, I know, give me a second,” you told her. “Spencer. Do you have any children’s tylenol?”

“N—no,” he stuttered, struggling to speak while you removed your shorts.

“Get some,” you ordered. You stepped into the tub, and pulled Cassie into your arms. The coldwater soaked your clothes, and coaxed her shaking body.You rested your back against the wall, and allowed her to sob against your chest. Sobbing. But quieter now.

Spencer looked at Cassie, hesistant. “Go,” you nodded to him. “We’ll be okay.”

He exhaled, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

Cassie stayed in your arms for the rest of the night. By the time Spencer returned, she’d let you dress her, brush her hair. And it was you who took her temperature, which had thankfully dropped dramatically since the shower. You gave her a small amount of tylenol, and you both fell asleep with her laying on your chest.

Spencer came to wake you at seven in the morning. He hovered over you, and gently called your name so as to not wake Cassie. You groggily looked down at her, and slid from under her carefully. You made sure she was tucked in before you left the room.

Spencer had a cup of coffee waiting for you. The two of you sipped on mugs, awkwardly standing in the kitchen, in silence. “So . . .” you spoke. “Is she . . .”

“Mine?” he nodded slowly, avoiding your gaze. “Yes.”

You scoffed, set your mug down. “She’s cute.”

“[y/n]—“

“And Cassie. Cute name . . . short for Cassandra?”

He sighed, “Cassiopeia, actually . . . she was, uh, queen in greek mythology. Known for her beauty.”

You almost cracked a smile. “Your doing, I suppose.”

“I may have had a say in it,” he grinned.

“Don’t do that,” you commanded.

“Do what?”

“Look at me, and be all cute, and think that’s going to get you out this. Because it’s not.”

“I’m . . .” he stuttered. “Not trying to get out of anything . . .”

“Well, you should be. All those times you’ve been inside me, and you couldn’t tell me once that you have a kid?”

“It’s complicated . . .”

“No, no! It’s not complicated. It’s four words. A little bit more if you bother to give me an adequate explanation.”

“I don’t owe you an explaination, [y/n].”

You took a step back, “Oh, really? You don’t?”

“No.”

You drew in a deep breath, crossed your arms, and exhaled as you stared at the floor. “Bye, Spencer.”

You turned around, and headed for the front door, the sound of his voice drawing you back in. “What do you want from me?” He shouted. You’d never so much as heard him curse, let alone raise his voice. You turned to him, your jaw dropped.

“What do you want, [y/n]?” he continued, now taking small steps towards you as he spoke. “Hm? You want me to tell you the truth? Fine. I was 20 when River and I had Cassie. 20. I had just gotten my doctorate, I wasn’t ready to have a . . . kid. But I love my daughter. Then it . . . came down to moving for work . . . River wouldn’t come with me, so I left.”

“You left?” You repeated.

He nodded, “I did. Not without a . . . nasty, non-legal custody battle first. Because of my job, I — I couldn’t get Cassie. I couldn’t give her what she needed. Which is why when my . . . crazy, ex-girlfriend showed up a month ago and dropped her off, said she was my responsibility now, I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t . . . even take care of her when she had a migraine.”

Your face had visibly softened at his change of tone. The hint of sadness that carried in his voice. “I’m sorry,” you said. “That you went through that, I’m sorry . . . but that doesn’t change the fact that I should’ve gotten this information a bit sooner—“

“Why?” he snapped. “Why, [y/n]? Because we were having sex? I owed you my entire life story because we were having sex?”

The gust of air that exhaled from your lips was quick and unstoppable. You could hear the hurt. So could Spencer. You nodded, “Guess not.”

You continued to head for the exit, not looking back, not stopping. But when you opened the door, two people were waiting, about to knock on the wood.

“Hi,” the woman said. “Hi . . . oh, we must have the wrong apartment. I’m sorry.”

“Garcia, Garcia, wait,” the man told her, then turned to you. “We’re looking for Spencer Reid, is he here?”

“Yeah, he is. I’m leaving.” You grumbled, pushing past the two of them to rush to your apartment.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” you heard the woman mumbled behind your back.

“Yo, kid,” the man’s voice called. “Where ya’ been? Did you think you could miss two weeks of work and we wouldn’t check on you?”

Oh, good, you thought.

So we’re all finding this out at the same time.

You didn’t leave your place for the rest of the day. The first thing you did was try to watch tv. Then, journaling. Then, yoga. Then, a little online shopping. But when the guy who you began to trust and love has a kid that he’s been hiding for months, brings you into his home to care for her, and then writes you off as a fling, there’s not much that can take your mind off of it.

The only thing that worked was a knock at the door. His knock. You huffed, slammed your hands into the couch cushions, and stood. Marching up to the door, you swung it open with an attitude. “What?” You snapped, enraged. Until you looked down.

“Hi, Miss [y/n]!” Cassie pipped. God, she looked so much like her father.

“Oh, Cassie,” you smiled, bending down to ignore Spencer. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”

“Great! I made you something,” she presented you with a piece of paper, graced with a wonderful portrait of a bunny. You smiled as she placed it in your hands.

“Our way of saying thank you, for last night,” Spencer added.

You looked up at him, and gave him a faux smile while you rose to your feet. “Of course. I’m happy to help,” you nodded.

“Would you . . . possibly like to come to the park with us?” his voice cracked. “M—Maybe . . . grab dinner afterwards?”

Now your smile was real.

“Pleeeeease, Miss [y/n], please?” Cassie begged. She leaned in, whispered, “I think daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

You laughed, and the sound mixed in with Spencer’s own laughter. You looked up at him, and there it was: that momentary pause in time. “Sure,” you said to him. Only him. “I’d like that very much.”

Based on this request from @crystalclearwater162: heyy queen! do u mind writing single dad Spencer? But like Spencer from season 1 or 2 and the team doesn’t know he has a kid bc they’ve nvr rly seen him beside work. they only find out bc they show up to his apartment one day after work and see a little girl calling him daddy 🥺🥺.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/reader #mine

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duskholland · 4 years

Note

could you maybe do a college!Peter blurb where y/n gets really tired and falls asleep halfway through a project, so he puts her to bed and it's just really fluffy?

-- clearing out the askbox: peter edition --

“Y/N… Are you sure you want to be working on this right now?” Peter’s got a concerned frown on his face as he looks up at you. He’s sitting cross-legged in the centre of your living room, textbooks and sheets of scientific formula covering the carpet around him.

“Hm?” You blink a few times, his words taking a few moments to sink in. Peter loves you, and he thinks you look adorable, always, but he can tell you’re tired. As you lay over your sofa on your back, glaring at a textbook, he knows you’re barely awake. You keep yawning, your eyes disengaged as they read the same page, over and over again. “Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.”

It’s halfway through the semester, and it’s reached the point where the two of you are drowning in lab work, essays, and assignments. Peter knows that you’re running on fumes and caffeine, working tirelessly as you try desperately to stay on track with your studies, and as much as he admires you for your strong work ethic, he wishes you’d slow down and rest.

So… Maybe that’s why he’d suggested you study at yours tonight, and he’d spent all evening trying to get you to calm down. He’d made you dinner, given you a shoulder massage - hell, he’d even let you put a face mask on him as he’d tried to get you to relax. But it’d still ended up here - you, settled up on the sofa, indignant that you’re going to get through your readings before you go to bed.

“You’re falling asleep, baby,” he points out.

You tilt your head to the side, your tired face relaxing into a smile the moment you meet his eyes.

“I’m talking to you, so I must be awake,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow, “unless you’re just the man of my dreams.”

Peter snorts, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you, rolling his eyes. “Smooth,” he mutters, drumming his pen on his knee. “Jus’ checking. We can stop whenever you want, remember. Don’t wanna tire you out.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, bringing your eyes back to the textbook after shooting him a soft smile. “Thanks, though. Love you.”

Peter hums. “Love you too, honey.”

He watches, amused, as you spend thirty seconds staring at the book, before softly relaxing. First, you rest the textbook on your stomach, then you sink down into the sofa, using one hand to bring a blanket over your figure. Next, you reach up and pull your hoodie over your head, snuggling further into the couch cushion and sighing gently. Your eyelids start to droop, and though you seem to try and fight it, Peter hears your heartbeat slow as you drift off into sleep.

He can’t help but swoon as he looks at you, grinning as he takes you in - knocked out, jaw half-open as your soft breaths drift through the air. He immediately puts down his textbook and stands up, pulling out his phone and cooing as he snaps a few shots of you snuggled up on the sofa. He walks to your bedroom as he sets one of them as his new lockscreen, and then he gets to work.

Peter knows your nighttime routine almost as well as you. He knows you like your blinds open but your curtains drawn closed, knows you can’t sleep if your wardrobe door is even the slightest bit open. He tidies up some of the clothes you’d left strewn across the floor, then he moves the books from your bed and organises your bedside table. His final task is pulling back your duvet and fluffing up your pillows, then he walks back out into the living room and pauses by your figure.

Trying his best not to disturb you, Peter gently pulls the textbook off your stomach and then picks you up, his super strength making the task easy. In your sleep, you nuzzle your head into his chest, and he has to make a very conscious effort not to melt right there and then. You are so cute.

He lays you down in the centre of your bed, eyes watching you for any sign of life. You seem to be completely asleep, so he’s quiet and slow as he rolls the crinkling duvet up and over you, tucking it up to your chin. Peter then leans a little closer and brings his lips to your forehead, letting his mouth linger against your warm skin.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he mumbles, voice soft. He goes to step back, only to startle when you crack open one sleepy eye.

“Stay,” you whine, voice cracking from fatigue. “Please?”

And you blink up at him so softly, how could he ever say no?

“Okay,” he whispers. “Do you need anything before I get in?”

You shake your head, pulling a hand out from beneath the duvet to open it up wide. You pat the mattress, lips quirking into a tired smile. “Just you.”

Peter’s glad that he’d already changed into comfier clothes, and he walks around the bed, closing your bedroom door and turning off the light as he goes. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and plugs it in at the wall, setting an alarm for the morning before finally, finally clambering into bed beside you. Before sinking into the sheets, he pulls off his hoodie, knowing that you always love nuzzling your face against his warm chest.

As expected, the moment there’s a chance, you roll over, clinging to Peter like a koala. You throw one of your legs over his thighs and nestle your head in the crook of his arm, resting a cheek up against his side.

“You’re so warm,” you mumble. “Big teddy bear.” But you don’t settle. You keep shuffling around, not relaxing, and it brings a frown to Peter’s face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, bringing a hand to rest on the back of your head. It’s dark, but he knows you’ve got a frown on your face.

“Still got my bra on,” you complain, groaning softly at the realisation. “Fuck.” You wriggle again, moving away from Peter completely. He can hear your struggle. “Can’t- ugh, I can’t get it, ‘m gonna have to get up.”

“Hey.” Peter reaches out, hand finding your shoulder. “D’you want me to get it?”

“Please.”

Working in the dark is tricky, but Peter manages to curve a hand beneath the bottom of your hoodie. You arch your back, and his nimble fingers slip up to release the clasp. The moment it bursts free, you sigh contentedly.

“Thank you,” you say, and Peter moves away as you manage to get the straps down your arms and wriggle it from beneath your jumper. He chuckles when you throw it, and then hears the unmistakable sound of pens being knocked over as it clatters over your desk. “Shit.”

“Go to sleep,” Peter urges, turning over to face you. His hands go to your waist, gently rolling you over until you’re settled on your side too, and he loops his arms around you properly so he can spoon you. Peter presses his face into the back of your neck, smiling as you relax into him.

“M’kay,” you say, sighing easily. You yawn, and then you reach down to link your fingers with his. Peter smiles as you roll your thumb over the back of his hand. “Sweet dreams, Pete.”

He kisses the back of your head, the scent of your mango shampoo drifting over him. His heart beats warmly in his chest.

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

#haven't written pete in so long but the vibes were right and :') i want a boyfriend :'))#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker call me honey and snuggle me challenge #myblurbs #peterblurbs #college!peter #anonymous

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charlies-gillespie · 3 years

Text

it’s okay not to be okay | charlie gillespie

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: reader is having a bad mental health day so Charlie tries to do what he can to help her

length: short to medium

rating: PG

warnings: mentions of anxiety, an anxiety attack, some angsty content (but also some fluffy content)

!! NOT MY GIF !!

MASTERLIST

authors note: may is mental health month. i wanted to write a little something to maybe help someone understand what they can do if someone they know is having a bad day or struggling with their mental health. and if you’re struggling, please know that it’s okay not to be okay and to please ask for help if you need it

Your alarm screams at you to wake up. You sigh, rolling over and turning it over. Once it’s off, you roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. You think about the day ahead and lose motivation the more you lay and think about your day.

You have virtual interviews with all day with your boyfriend and Julie and the Phantoms co-star, Charlie Gillespie. He’s supposed to be here any minute. The thought of him knocking on the door sends your anxiety skyrocketing. Interviews are not your strong suit. You try to avoid them as often as you can, or you get someone you’re comfortable with to do them with you. Today, even the thought of doing an interview makes your hands shake.

It’s about eight in the morning and you can already tell that it’s going to be a rough day. You can’t even get out of bed this morning and you’re already feeling unmotivated. All you’ve done is turn off your alarm and your hands are sweaty.

There’s a buzz that comes from the table that makes you jump. You see Charlie’s contact pop up on your phone and you grab the device. You answer it, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on your chest. “Hey,” you sigh.

“Hi,” Charlie says. “I just pulled up to your house. Is everything ready to go for interviews today?”

With a nod, you say, “Yeah. I turned my stream room into a little studio. My streaming gear has turned into interview gear.”

Charlie says, “I’m on my way in. Can you come open the door? I have breakfast for us before our first interview in a little bit.”

You swallow and say, “Yeah. I’m on my way down now.”

The line goes dead. You push yourself to get up out of bed. You rub your face and walk down the stairs. Your first interview is in about 30 minutes and you’re nowhere near ready.

When you open the door, you see Charlie standing at your door with his laptop in one hand and a bag full of iHop food for breakfast. He looks you up and down in your pajamas and says, “We have a Pop Buzz interview in less than 30 minutes and you’re not ready?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, not being able to make eye contact with Charlie. “Sorry.”

Your boyfriend walks inside and he says, “Let’s go get you dressed, eh?”

You close the door and say, “But you brought over breakfast to eat before the first interview.”

Charlie puts the iHop bag down on the coffee table in the living room, as well as his laptop, before he says, “We can heat it up after the first interview is done. One thing at a time, Y/N.”

He laces his fingers with yours and walks you upstairs. You blink as you walk with him, slightly confused. You walk into your bedroom and walk to your closet. Charlie sits on your bed, looking at you as you raid your closet for something you can wear.

In the end, you find a Sunset Curve t-shirt and sweatpants because you don’t feel like getting dressed up. The t-shirt is white with black writing and it cut to look like a crop top. The sweats are black and loose on your body. You’re pretty sure you stole these from Charlie because they’re huge on you. You tie your hair up into a messy bun and turn toward Charlie.

“Look at you,” your boyfriend says. “You look very comfortable and very cute in my sweatpants.”

You say, “So these are your sweatpants.”

Charlie laughs and kisses the side of your head before saying, “I was looking for those all over my apartment. You can keep them though. You look cute in them.”

The two of you head downstairs. You walk into your streaming room. Charlie follows you inside. He’s been in here before but he’s never learned how to use any of this stuff.

You sit in your gaming chair and Charlie pulls up another chair to sit beside you.

“Zoom?” you ask, turning on your PC.

He nods and pulls out his phone. “The code was sent to our emails,” Charlie says. You log into your work email and find the code. The interview starts in five minutes. Your heart races and your hands shake as you type on your computer.

After getting Zoom up on your PC, you stare at the mouse hovering above the “join with video” button. Quickly, you turn to Charlie and say, “I can’t.”

Charlie looks at you and asks, “You can’t what?”

You can feel your breathing speed up as you say, “The interview. Charlie, I can’t.”

He realizes what’s going on and he takes your hands in his. “Y/N,” he says softly. “You can do it. It’s just having a conversation, okay? You can have conversations. Don’t think of it like an interview and think of it as a conversation. I’ll be right here and you can hold my hand during the whole thing. You know Owen, Jer, Madi, Sav, and Sacha will all be on the screen in front of you. You’ll do amazing.”

With some reassurance from Charlie, you nod but stay quiet. He gives you a reassuring smile before he takes over, clicking the button to join the call. You scoot your chair closer to Charlie. “Where am I looking, by the way,” he asks.

You point at the little camera in front of the ring light that you have on. You and Charlie join the Zoom. Owen says, “Look who showed up thirty seconds before the interview starts.”

Charlie quickly hushes his best friend and the interview starts. Throughout the whole thing, you’re rubbing your hands on your sweats and constantly looking over at Charlie. The interviewer thinks it’s cute that you keep looking at Charlie, but the interviewer doesn’t know it’s because you’re right on the verge of another anxiety attack. The smile on your face is very obviously fake but no one questions it. Charlie does most of the talking.

As soon as everyone says their goodbyes after the interview, Charlie quickly presses the “leave meeting” button. As soon as you’ve both left the meeting, you exhale the breath you’ve been holding in for most of the interview.

Concerned, your boyfriend asks, “How are you doing?”

“I hate it,” you admit. “But it’s part of my job.”

He stands up and says, “You did really good. I know how anxious these interviews are for you but you did it, Y/N. I’m so proud.”

A little smile forms on your face and you ask, “Can we heat up the iHop now?”

Charlie laughs and nods. You stand up and take his hand.

***

After several more anxiety inducing interviews later, you finally get about two hours off. You find yourself curled up on the couch with your chin on your knees. You have no idea why these interviews are so anxiety inducing today. You love acting, you usually love talking to people about acting and singing. You have to push yourself through every interview, you don’t look as good as you probably should for these interviews.

Your boyfriend finds you on the couch but your mind is so busy, you don’t notice him as he sits beside you. “Baby,” Charlie says, trying to get your attention. “Hey, Y/N.” You look over at him and he brushes something away from your cheek. “Baby, why are you crying?”

Confused, you say, “I’m not crying.”

Charlie blinks at you and says, “Your cheeks are wet. Talk to me.” He rests a hand on your knee and looks at you.

With a sigh, you say, “I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated that I have days where I have to push myself to do things. I’m frustrated that doing my job gives me anxiety. When I have these days, I contemplate why I’m an actress when talking about my job, while part of my job, gives me anxiety.”

He listens to every word that you say before he begins to talk.

“Y/N, baby, you’re an actress because it’s what you love to do,” Charlie tells you. “It’s the same reason you’re a singer. You love to do it. You’ll have these days sometimes, and that’s okay, but Y/N, I know you. You are the strongest person I know. Whatever’s going today, you’ll get through it. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

This is the man that you fell in love with. This is the man that you hope to marry one day. He doesn’t run when you’re having a bad day. Charlie is the person you go to when you’re having one of these days and he’ll come over to help you through it.

You scoot closer to Charlie and rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and you say, “I don’t deserve you, Charlie.”

Charlie kisses the side of your head and says, “You deserve the world. After these last two interviews today, you and I are having a movie night in bed with lots of cuddles and kisses.”

“Cuddles and kisses?” you repeat, looking up at Charlie.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he says, “Lots and lots of cuddles and kisses.”

You press your forehead to Charlie’s cheek, closing your eyes. Charlie wraps his arms around your curled up body.

The day gets just a little bit easier after Charlie promises kisses and cuddles after the interviews are over. You love and appreciate that Charlie doesn’t run from the relationship when you’re sad or anxious. He embraces it and helps you through the rough days.

That night, after all the interviews are over for the day, you do lay in bed and you watch The Space Between Us on Netflix while cuddled up with Charlie. You’ve been like this for a few hours now and a thought has been on your mind.

“Charlie,” you say, looking up at your boyfriend.

He looks down at you and asks, “What’s up? Need something?”

You move until you’re on your stomach against Charlie’s side. You say, “I don’t want you to go.”

Your boyfriend says, “If you want me to stay the night then I will. I don’t have any plans tonight.”

“No, I mean I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you in the morning,” you say. “I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up beside you every morning.”

Charlie pushes a piece of hair out of your face and he asks, “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

You say, “I don’t want to call you to come over when I’m having a bad day when you could already be here. I have half a closet and half a bed that aren’t being used, plus lots of room on my bathroom counter.”

He laughs and says, “Yes, baby. I’ll move in with you. I wouldn’t mind falling asleep with you in my arms or waking up to your cute face every morning.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips and you say, “Good, because I would love it if I could fall asleep in your arms every night. Starting tonight.”

“Starting tonight,” Charlie assures you. You smile and snuggle up to your boyfriend. He securely wraps his arms around your shoulders and you close your eyes, feeling at home and safe in Charlie’s arms.

#charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp imagines #jatp imagine #imagines #imagine #fluff imagines #angst imagine #fluff #angst

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Hospital Visits

Pairing: HinataXReader

Words: 1K

Summary: Hinata gets a call from the hospital that you were in an accident after you had a fight.

A/N: @nachotrash suggested the reader gets into an accident after an argument with a character of my choice. Ahhhh, I’m sorry this took a while. I have this issue where I start one then get 5 ideas then write 2 paragraphs of all of them and stop to watch YouTube, TikTok, Tumblr, Twitter, then repeat cycle. Idk man, but it’s done!!! :D

Hinata rushed into the hospital's revolving door, and his frazzled expression was reflected back at him in the glass as he waited for them to finish their languid turn. He felt out of body as he spoke to the front desk-too consumed with your last conversation to control the frantic rambling that left his mouth.

It had been such a stupid argument. You were mad because he forgot about a date and made other plans which led to him getting overly defensive and snippy. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but you were both exhausted from long days and it escalated too fast.

Hinata had planned on you walking out mid-fight, but when you did he was just too tired to do anything about it.

When Hinata saw the familiar phone number light up his screen thirty minutes later he felt himself freeze-the timing was too convenient to be a typical Atsumu incident. He had already been half-way out of his apartment before the nurse had finished telling him something was wrong.

“They’re in the last room down the hall, but you shouldn’t-”

“Thanks.” Hinata nodded, already pushing past the doors before she could warn him. He wandered down the brightly lit hall without absorbing the concerned glances at his unruly hair and panicked eyes that flickered between room numbers.

Finally, he stood before yours and after a quick repetition of knocks he swung the door open. His jaw went slack at the sight before him.

You were sitting on the medical bed with a slight crease to your brow as a doctor kneeled before you, carefully wrapping your ankle in bandages. Hinata scanned every inch of your body, but he couldn’t find a single. His gaze flickered toward your ankle-aside from whatever happened there.

The door clicked shut behind him and you did a double take when you realized it was him.

“You came,” you said with a relieved smile forming on your lips.

“You’re alive?” Hinata cocked his head to the side, still looking over you carefully in case he missed a major injury. Did you have all your limbs? Maybe it was internal damage and that’s why he couldn’t see it.

“Why would I be dead?” You raised a brow, wincing as the doctor tightened the bandages in finality. She sat back on her chair and grabbed her clipboard, flipping through pages Hinata wouldn’t even begin to understand.

“Just a sprained ankle,” she said, smirking at Hinata. “Maybe a bruised tailbone. They should probably take it easy for a while, but nothing major to worry about.”

Hinata felt his face warming and he looked away awkwardly, “it’s just… the nurse said you had an accident so I assumed...”

“I just slipped on some ice.” Your lips quirked up in amusement.

“The staff is still new…” The doctor sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she rose from her chair. “I’ll have a talk with her about home calls.”

“That would be nice…” Hinata dug his toe in the ground, side-stepping the doctor so she could access the door. She gave you instructions for the upcomings weeks so that it would heal properly and where to find the discharge papers before leaving your room.

After the door clicked shut Hinata stared at your bandaged ankle, feeling an ache spread throughout his chest. He should have done something to stop you from leaving or done better to end the argument. HInata was lucky you had only sprained your ankle; what would he have done if this had been a serious accident? What would he have done if he actually lost you because he-

“Wipe that look off your face, Sho.” You poked him in the side and blinked back to reality. “I don’t like whatever you’re thinking about.”

He frowned, avoiding looking at your gentle smile. After a few moments he gave in, sitting beside you on the bed and leaning his head onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you the one who put the ice on the sidewalk?” You scoffed, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “I’m just glad you came.”

He pulled back to look at you, “why wouldn’t I have?”

“I don’t know. We fought and everything. I thought… maybe…”

Hinata hated the defeated look in your eyes. He kissed your forehead, pressing his own against the spot. “I’ll always be here.”

You nodded, closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, then patted his shoulder. “Alright, prince charming. Hand me my crutches, I gotta get home.”

“Home?” Hinata shook his head as he grabbed your crutches. “How am I supposed to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again if you’re by yourself?”

You gasped in offense while adjusting the crutches height. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“You slipped on ice.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” you stated, hopping off the bed with assistance of the crutches. You wobbled too far forward and nearly face-planted before Hinata caught you. You both stared at each other before an amused smile spread across his lips. “That doesn’t count.”

“You’re staying with me.”

“No.” You shook your head, continuing your slow and unstable trek out of the room. You struggled opening the door while Hinata watched entertained. “I am self-sufficient.”

“You slipped. On ice.”

“It was slippery.”

“You sprained your ankle.”

“It was my least favorite ankle.”

Hinata scoffed, finally opening the door for you after your many feeble attempts. You glared at each other before you sighed, sadly shuffling out of the door.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Only because you’re cute and I kind of like you.”

“Kind of?” Hinata pouted.

“Okay… I guess, a lot.” You smirked, making a kissy face with your mouth. Hinata smiled dopily, leaning down to kiss you. You grinned as you kept going forward and he put his hands in his pockets while trailing after you.

He really thought he almost lost you. He frowned, watching you attempt to stab the handicap button with the end of your crutch. That ache filled his chest again and he rubbed it with his palm. When you successfully jabbed it and the door began opening you turned around with a face splitting smile, one of the proudest he’s ever seen and Hinata’s heart jumped in his chest.

Hinata didn’t know how to live without you anymore. He’d do what he could to make sure he didn’t have to.

#hinata shouyou #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyo #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata shoyo fic #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shouyo imagine #hinata shōyō #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!

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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

Text

Movie Night, Pillow Fight [Version 2]

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-13/T (maybe pushing M? but there’s still nothing super explicit. this is just a lot dirtier than I usually write holy cannoli. Heavy kissing, a little bit of suggestive dialogue and narration, minor swearing?)

Original Idea: This (V1 follows this idea a lot more than this one, which I spun off of about halfway through and did my own thing)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I didn’t think this would be as long as Version 1. I was wrong. This one is ~200 words longer, at 3,491. Version 1 here. They start the exact same but change about halfway through. I wrote both of these two over the course of 1 day by the way, and refuse to pick a favorite. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“No, Bruce,” Jason said sharply into his phone as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “I’ve already told you a hundred times: Tuesdays are my day off. Unless it’s a Court-of-Owls-attacking-All-Hands-On-Deck emergency, I’m not going on patrol. I’m allowed one night off per week. And I have plans. It’s weekly movie night with a friend of mine. We’ve been doing movie night since college and I refuse to disappoint her. You know why I chose Tuesdays? Because Gotham’s crime rate is lowest. You’ll be fine without me.” He hung up before Bruce could reply.

—

I opened the door. “You’re late,” I said.

“Yeah. I had to go to two different stores to find your popcorn because they were out at the first one,” Jason replied, letting himself in and dropping his motorcycle helmet on my couch. “Let me go change into my sweats.” He pulled his grey sweatpants out of his backpack, two microwave popcorn bags falling out.

I grabbed them. “Thanks Jay,” I said playfully.

He gave me a brief hug before stepping past me to my bathroom. “The things I do for you,” he teased with a sigh.

“Get out of those jeans. You know they aren’t allowed,” I retorted before going over to the microwave. My bathroom door shut loudly. I boosted myself onto the counter and watched the popcorn spin in the microwave.

By the time Jason emerged from the bathroom, only one bag was done. He leaned against the counter next to me, arms folded, and joined my staring.

“So what movie did you bring?” I asked. “You said in your text it was one of your favorites.”

He beamed at me. “Well, my friend, we are watching the very first ever made Frankenstein. From nineteen-thirty-one.” He fixed me with a stare as my shoulders slouched. “Don’t you start moaning in complaint. You put me through watching that awful musical last week—”

“Excuse you, Phantom of the Opera is also a classic.”

“It’s basic.”

“You’re basic.”

“Maybe so, but after going through that ordeal, you promised we could watch one of my favorites. I managed not to fall asleep last week, so it’s my turn.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then shook his head. “I really need to refine your taste in theatre. Remind me to convince Bruce to give me his season tickets to the real opera. He never uses them anyway. Doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

Given Bruce’s parents were shot after leaving the opera, I imagined there was some childhood trauma there. I didn’t bring it up with Jason. We didn’t talk about family besides passing comments on movie nights.

When the second bag of popcorn was finished popping and put in its own large bowl—I had quite the collection of popcorn bowls, usually given to me—we went to my room.

Ever since we’d graduated college—two years ago—we’d had movie night in my bed, rather than on the couch, like we’d done in my dorm. The bed was comfier and gave us more room to spread out. I can’t even remember who suggested it, but it was probably me one week when I was sick or something and we’d just stayed that way ever since.

I’d always hosted too. In college it was because my roommate was never there, and now Jason just liked the escape from his family. They didn’t know where I lived, so the one time he hosted and they interrupted by coming over, he and I agreed we’d just have it at my place. I liked his brothers and sister well enough, but they’d ruined that movie night. I doubted Wayne Manor movie nights ever involved any movies no one had seen before—because everyone talked and yelled at each other too much to actually pay attention to the movie.

Jason put the DVD in the player in my room. “Prepare to be wowed,” he said.

“I’m prepared, trust me,” I replied flatly.

—

“Heeey,” Jason’s voice said softly. “Wake up, doofus.”

I blinked my eyes open blearily. “Wha…?”

He started chuckling. “You fell asleep about halfway through.”

“Duh. It was boring. What did you expect for a casual movie fan from this century watching something from nineteen-thirty-one?”

“Well, all that means is that we get to rewatch it—from the beginning—next week!” Jason declared. I frowned. “Don’t you pout at me. Those have been the official movie night rules since our freshman year of college.”

“That’s not true,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dug deep into the Google Docs on my phone for Movie Night Rules from our freshman year of college. Six years was a long way to scroll through, but eventually I found it. I opened the doc and scanned the rules. “Oh, buzz off,” I muttered, poking Jason in the side.

“No poking!” He lurched away. Jason was selectively ticklish. Sometimes I would poke him in the side and he’d jump, other times he wouldn’t even notice I touched him. And he swapped between the two randomly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up like two minutes after I fell asleep?”

Jason pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “I thought about it. But you looked so cute—” He pinched my cheek and I was reminded of the fact that he had the personality traits of an eighty-year-old grandmother. “—with your hair all messy and your cheeks all squished that I just couldn’t.” He laughed as I batted his hand away from my face. I poked him again. “No poking!”

“Then don’t tease.”

“I have a right to tease you. Look at my shirt! You drooled all over it.”

I grabbed the hem of it and pulled it up. “Let me throw it in the wash, then.”

I expected him to smack my hand away and shove the shirt back down over his torso, but to my surprise, he helped me take it off. I’d seen him shirtless too many times to bother staring at his remarkably muscular torso. I just climbed out of my bed and went to the small closet out in the hall that held my tiny washer and dryer. I threw his shirt in the washer, dumped a bit of detergent in, and got it started before going back to my room.

“Take that off! You’ll stretch it out!” I snapped.

Jason struggled to get one of my—much smaller—T-shirts from college off. I scoffed and helped him yank it over his head before throwing one my pajama shirts at him. I wore my dad’s old T-shirts to sleep in, so it was even big on Jason. “You could have just asked for a replacement and I’d have handed you this.”

“That’s not as fun as surprising you,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes and perched back on the bed. “Fine. Next week, we rewatch Frankenstein. I won’t fall asleep. But you’re bringing snacks again.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t forget the popcorn.”

“Doofus, if I forgot the popcorn, you wouldn’t let me through the door.”

I snickered. “True enough.”

Jason leaned over to set his popcorn bowl on the bedside table closest to him. “Maybe next week we should try this on the couch. I always feel bad about getting popcorn on your sheets—and then you won’t be so comfortable that you fall asleep.”

I grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the chest. His expression turned affronted.

“Did you just initiate a pillow fight?” he demanded.

“No,” I retorted. “I got payback for you insulting me.” I whacked him again. “That was me initiating a pillow fight.” I started flinging the pillow at him again and again.

“Hey! Not fair!” Jason protested. “I’m unarmed!”

I ignored him and kept up my pillow smacking.

He laughed. “Well, if you’re going to play dirty, I will too.” He reached out as my pillow hit him again and he wrangled it from me. “A-ha! Look at that! Got your ammo. How does it feel, to be attacked by your own pillow?”

Jason started smacking me with it. I squealed and blocked him as best I could with my arms. We were both laughing as I tried to reach around him to the pillow he’d been using to brace his back against my headboard. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and hit me with the pillow using the other. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re adorable.”

I laughed as he nearly hit me hard enough to knock me off the bed.

So, I switched tactics.

Getting inside his much longer reach was the hard part. Once I managed to duck around his arms and wrench my wrist free, I started tickling him. Tonight was a ticklish night. He squirmed away from me.

Jason yowled—and I hoped my neighbors weren’t home—in laughter. “Stop it—stop tickling!”

I didn’t. I ran my wiggling fingers up his sides and across his neck. He tried to catch my hands, but I was quick enough to evade him.

For a few moments anyway.

“No. No!” His protests didn’t work on me. “Oh you’re as bad as my brothers. Stop it—stop it.” His voice went firm, all traces of laughter gone. With one quick movement, the pillow we’d attacked each other with was discarded on the floor. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me so I was lying flat in the center of the bed.

Jason straddled my waist, trapping my lower legs with his ankles and pinning both my hands above my head on the mattress. He was breathing hard. We both were.

He smiled. “There. Not so feisty now, are you? Hands pinned above your head, lying beneath me all… helpless.” He chuckled and licked his lower lip, his smile turning both playful and wicked. “I could have… any kind of revenge I want.” He bent his elbows, lowering himself over me. My breathing grew shorter and blood roared in my ears. “I can have any…” He paused, eyes flicking from mine to where my necklace charm had fallen down one side and landed on the mattress. His eyes widened, as if he seemed to just barely realize how close we were. “This is…” His elbows straightened, pushing him higher above me. “I’m… sorry.” He started to gently pick his way off of me. “I’m gonna let you go now.”

He released his grip on my wrists. I rolled them and flexed my hands to get some feeling back into them.

He swung his leg to get off me and used it to step off the bed. “I should go,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll grab my T-shirt next week.” He strode to the door of my bedroom while I sat on the bed, dumbfounded, jaw hanging open.

As he opened the door, I bounded off the bed.

I caught him before he could reach for his stuff on my couch, grabbing his wrist. “What was that about?” I demanded. He refused to turn and look at me.

“Just… let it go,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to pull his wrist out of my hand, but I grabbed it with my other one to hold him in both.

“No! What the hell is going on with you?”

“Leave it alone,” he growled out.

“I can’t! What happened in there that made you shut down? What did I do wrong?”

He whirled. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me!”

“Then tell me what it is!” I shouted.

Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching out of my grip so hard my fingers ached. He spun me around and pinned me by the shoulders against my front door. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched it before fixing me with a crystal blue stare. “It’s just… seeing you beneath me—all flushed pink and panting, your eyes hooded and staring up at me… seeing you like that… I just felt myself fall in love with you!”

If he hadn’t pinned me against the door I probably would have fallen over from shock. My mouth definitely fell open. “Jay… I…” I breathed.

Still holding my shoulders, he spun me around so I was away from the front door and moved to shove his jeans into his backpack.

Before he could, I threw reservation to the wind.

I grabbed his shoulders, forced him to turn and face me, moved my hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down to kiss me.

Our mouths crashed together hard enough to make my front teeth ache, but I didn’t care. My heart leapt into my throat and I almost melted as his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer, so our torsos were pressed against each other. My eyelids closed as I sighed. We were both breathing hard, air from our noses warm against each other’s skin. Holding my waist in both arms, he turned and pinned my back against the door again.

“Oh, God…” Jason breathed against my lips. He kissed me again and I moaned. He reached one hand up and tangled it in my hair. He could palm the back of my skull as though it were a basketball. His fingers were warm against my scalp.

When he pulled his lips away from me, I groaned quietly in complaint.

“We—we should not be doing this,” he whispered, shaking his head. The white streak at the front of his hairline flopped back and forth with the movement. I wanted to reach my fingers up and twist that streak between them. But I didn’t.

“Why not?” I replied, just as breathless.

“We’re friends. This isn’t us.”

“You just said that you just barely fell in love with me.”

“I did. But I’m not willing to ruin the good thing we’ve had going on here for six years.” He panted, shoulders heaving up and down, as he reached up and took my hands away from his face, gently dragging them by the wrists. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve been able to keep longer than a year or two. I can’t… I can’t just… this isn’t about what I want.”

“I’m the one who kissed you,” I pointed out. “What does that say about what I want?”

“It’s not just about wants,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Us being together is dangerous? To whom?”

“To you.”

“Why would it be dangerous for me?” I pushed.

He let me go and spun away from me. He looked like he wanted to shout and rage—maybe throw something—but he just clenched his fists and panted.

When he finally turned back to face me, he’d calmed down a little. “It’s dangerous… because… I… oh, Bruce is gonna kill me…” he whispered, shaking his head again. “Because I… am… the Red Hood.”

Two big confessions in one night. I felt a little dizzy and remembered to breathe.

“Red Hood. As in… the vigilante. And… the crime boss.”

“Vigilante, yes. Crime boss days are behind me. I was newly-back-from-the-dead and not in a stable mindset when I became a crime boss.” I decided not to ask about that. He huffed and sat on my coffee table, instead of the sofa, rubbing his temples. “And I wasn’t going to tell you about it, by the way. You’re the only normal friend I have right now. But it’s too dangerous for us to be together. If any of the rogues in this city knew I had someone I cared about as much as I care about—as much as I love you… you would not survive to the end of the year.”

I crossed from the front door to the sofa and sat on the sofa cushion closest to him, setting my hand on his knee. “Jay, I… I’m willing to risk it. To be with you. We just need to be careful—”

“I’m not willing to lose you. I would have been terrified before tonight if someone worse than me caught you. Knew you were just a friend. Now, though? Now, I don’t know what I’d do if you were captured, and that scares me even more. I saw you under me in that bedroom and I saw a future that was good—for the first time in the nine years since I was resurrected—but I can’t let that be my future. For your sake.”

I bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. But I did tighten my grip on his knee hard and snap, “Get over yourself, Todd. You’re not the only one who gets to make this decision.”

“No, but apparently I’m the only one who can see things objectively enough to make the wise decision.”

It was my turn to want to throw something. “Jason. Peter. Todd. I don’t care about the danger. And I know you do. But do you know what it’d do to me, knowing that you love me and I feel the same, but you won’t let me be yours? Do you know what it would do to you? I know what it would do to me. It would eat me up inside day in and day out. I would sit here dying for you, waiting for you to come to your senses and carry me back into that bedroom to stay in there all night. But you never would. And I would just wait. I’d never date anyone else. If I tried, all I’d be doing was wishing they were you.

“You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some people are just born to sacrifice. To give up what they want—what they need—for the sake of other people. It’s the only choice we’re ever given, so it’s the choice we make over and over and over again. Sometimes people will split others into Givers and Takers. Those of us born to sacrifice are a step beyond even Givers. We’re the ones who give up everything for others. I’ve done it with my family my entire life. Everyone else always wanted so strongly that my only option was to give up my own. You’re the same, I see it every time I see you with your brothers.

“Jason, it’s time for us to Take. It’s time to let life give us something. This is the moment to be selfish. To put aside Batman and his zealous crusade for one damn moment and let yourself be happy.” I dug my fingernails into his knee through his sweats. “Be selfish for once, Jason.”

He finally looked up at me, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t,” he said.

I clamped my mouth shut and sighed loudly through them. “Yes, you can. If you’re waiting for my consent, you’ve more than got it. I’m telling you now to give yourself consent to want. To take. Get over this hold out that a double life has on you and—mmph!”

He cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, surging off the coffee table and straddling me on the sofa. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me to one side, sitting on the sofa and guiding me to straddle himself. His hands were splayed over my shoulder blades. I twisted his white streak through my fingers. Our breath shuddered in and out of our lungs. I parted my lips slightly and ran the tip of my tongue over the seam of his lips.

They opened immediately and let me in. I sighed out my nose. “Please ruin our friendship,” I breathed into his lips. “This is so much better.”

He snickered out his nose, smiling. “Does your consent to let me want you include me carrying you back into that bedroom and neither of us leaving until dawn?” He nodded toward my room.

My body shivered. Not from cold. Excitement. Electricity.

“Definitely,” I said breathlessly.

His hands slid from my shoulder blades and down to my legs. He held them and stood up. I hooked my ankles around his back, locking my arms’ grip around his neck.

He carried me to my room, kicked the door shut, and laid me gently on the messed-up bedsheets and disarrayed pillows. On all fours above me, my legs around his waist, he kissed me. Gently, at first, but he quickly grew hungry. His hands worked their way under my shirt, callused palms scraping slightly against my skin.

“Still okay with this?” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“Oh yeah,” I breathed, unable to even speak loud enough to be heard from inches away.

He smiled. Wicked delight flickering on his face. “Well, get ready for me to call you mine. Because I am all yours.”

I smiled. “I’m yours, Jason.”

#Movie Night Pillow Fight #Version 2 #Movie Night Pillow Fight Version 2 #Jason Todd #Jason Todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #Red Hood #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #DC #dc imagine #dc fanfiction #BatFam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

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Blood Lust

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

vampire!hyunjin x human!reader - smutty smut smut lmao, fluff, a little bit of angst ig, fwb type vibe except the benefits include Hyunjin feeding on y/n lol

Word Count: 10.4k+ (I got carried away, I’m sorry lmao)

Summary - Having a part time job whilst at university is standard, right? Babysitting, bartending, retail, hospitality? Well, y/n’s job is a little… different. Or maybe a lot different. Depends on whether you find being a hot vampire’s personal blood bag weird or not.

Warnings: biting, blood, blood consumption, unrequited love, possessiveness, toxicity in a not-relationship, unprotected sex, intercourse, rough sex and softish sex, softdom!hyunjin x sub!reader, very brief sub!hyunjin, very explicit dirty talk, asphyxiation, slight body worship, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, teasing, mouth fucking, begging, praise, hickeys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, lots of soft aftercare, sexual and non-sexual nudity, I think that’s it but please let me know if you notice that I missed something!

a/n: and here is the fourth (and my favourite) instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I had so much fun writing this absolute filth and I hope you guys enjoy reading it! thank you @silverlightprincess for proofreading, I love you! please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

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‘Took you long enough,’ Hyunjin says when I answer the door, and I give him an apologetic smile, making my eyes wide the way he can never resist, and I can see him fighting to keep the smile off his face. ‘Sorry. I was just… doing something,’ I say as I move aside to let him in, and he raises an eyebrow, slipping off his shoes. ‘Doing what?’ he asks, suspicious, and I avoid his gaze, locking the door after him. ‘I… um-’ ‘Let me guess. You forgot to have your iron supplements and remembered when I knocked on the door?’ he asks dryly, and I give him a weak smile, making him let out an annoyed huff.

‘y/n, I’m hungry. It’s been over a week,’ he complains, and I roll my eyes, trying to hide how endeared I always get at his complaining – he might be a big bad vampire to his clan, but he’s just a whiny little baby when he’s with me. ‘I’m sorry, Jinnie. It’s hard to remember, because I never used to take them,’ I say in my softest voice, knowing he won’t stay annoyed at me, and he just sighs, heading into the living room of my apartment. ‘And you used to wonder why you fainted all the time,’ he says exasperatedly, throwing himself down on my sofa.

When I first started at university, I was – to put it simply – broke as hell. My student loan funded my school supplies and my travel costs, and the money I earned working at my uncle’s restaurant paid for my driving lessons. I had no spare income to spend on anything else – I was still living with my parents, so I wasn’t homeless or hungry or anything. But I had no money for clothes, or nights out, or… anything other than the basic necessities.

When it got to the start of second year, and my uncle had to close his restaurant because he was getting a few customers a night if he was lucky (at every family gathering, he gets drunk and rambles about how Uber Eats murdered his business), I was desperate; I couldn’t pay for my driving lessons anymore, and I was having to buy a lot more supplies for school. One of my friends, Yeji, knew that I was struggling with money, and decided to confide in me about an arrangement she had with a friend of hers.

Her friend, Chan, was the leader of a vampire clan, she’d told me, and she was his blood donor. They’d meet a couple times a week, and he’d feed on her and pay her for it. I was fascinated – I knew vampires existed, but I never knew one personally, or knew anyone that knew one either, so to hear about Yeji’s arrangement astounded me. According to Yeji, vampires tend to drink from blood bags rather than from humans these days, but they still prefer blood from the source. So when Chan had offhandedly mentioned to Yeji that he was looking for a blood donor, she asked how much he was willing to pay. When she heard, she instantly offered to be his donor, knowing that that much money per feed would fund the rest of her university life after just a couple weeks.

I’d had so many questions for her. When I asked if it hurt, she told me the initial puncture felt a little like an injection, and then after that, she wouldn’t really feel anything other than it being a little uncomfortable to hold her neck at such an awkward angle. It would leave her feeling drowsy and weak, but Chan would feed her a little of his blood, just to strengthen her, and she would feel back to herself within no time. The two little scars on her neck would take a while to fade, but she said they were easy enough to cover up with makeup. I’d heard that being fed on was pleasurable, and almost sexual, but when I mentioned that to Yeji, she grimaced and said that it wasn’t at all like that. For her and Chan, it was a business transaction between good friends, and nothing more.

I was intrigued, to say the least, and I’d gone home that night thinking about the possibility of becoming a blood donor to a vampire. The next day, Yeji had run up to me excitedly, to tell me that one of Chan’s clan members was looking for a donor. Only a week later, I was waiting to meet him at a coffee shop, as though it was a blind date. I felt so nervous, worried that he’d take one look at me and walk straight back out. But the second he walked in and his eyes met mine, my heart stopped.

He was adorable, painfully so – with his soft brown hair falling over his cute glasses, and his light academia boyfriend aesthetic. He looked around my own age, but Yeji had told me that he was, in fact, 318 years old at the time (we celebrated his 320th birthday just a few months ago). He sat down with a shy smile, and I was lost for words. He had none of the pale skin or brooding moody looks or all black outfits – he was quite tanned with a friendly face and dressed in soft neutrals. I couldn’t believe that this harmless looking soft boy was a blood-sucking vampire. There was no way.

He bought us a coffee each, and bought me a caramel shortbread because, he told me shyly, it looked as sweet as me. We spoke for hours, our conversation quickly changing from generic and awkward, to comfortable and deep. I explained how difficult it was to fund life at university without putting pressure on my low-income parents to support me, and he explained his life as a vampire. We left the coffee shop at closing time, Hyunjin insisting on walking me home, and we parted with the decision that I would become his blood donor.

We met again, only a week later, with the same shy smiles and slightly awkward conversation. This time, I’d gone to the house that he shared with some of the clan members, but nobody else was at home. It was just us. We’d slowly worked up to it, and when Hyunjin was stood before me, neck bent so that his mouth brushed against the skin of my throat, I felt relaxed and prepared due to his gentle comforting and support. I tried my hardest not to tense when I felt his fangs puncture my skin, wincing a little at the sharp pain, but before I had time to get used to the feeling of someone drinking my blood, Hyunjin had pulled away, coughing up all my blood over his hoodie.

‘What’s the matter? Are you okay?’ I’d asked, and Hyunjin had wiped at his mouth, face twisted in disgust. ‘y/n, I’m really sorry, but your blood is… gross,’ he’d said bluntly, still coughing between each word. This had hurt more than you’d expect – somehow, it’s not a nice feeling to hear that a vampire finds your blood disgusting enough to cough it all back up. ‘Oh. I’m really sorry,’ I’d said, feeling humiliated, and Hyunjin had waved his hand in the air, swigging down some water. ‘No, don’t apologise. I just… I was just surprised. Do you not know you’re anaemic?’ he’d asked, and I’d blinked at him in surprise. ‘Anaemic?’ I’d echoed, and he’d nodded, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Your blood has, like, no iron in it. Drinking your blood was like… drinking bitter coffee. Just how you’d add milk and sugar to coffee, your blood needs iron.’

He’d left me in his room whilst he went to get me some iron supplements, and I’d eaten two of the gummy vitamins when he’d handed them to me. We’d waited for half an hour, and then we’d tried it again, sat on his bed this time. His fangs slid into the two little holes they’d made earlier, not as painful this time around, and he didn’t pull away this time either, instead pulling me closer with his strong arms. It was a weird sensation, not a… nasty one, but just weird. With each hungry gulp he took, I’d felt myself getting drowsier and drowsier, head becoming light, and my eyes slid shut after around thirty seconds.

I’d felt Hyunjin pull away only a few moments after that, and he’d shook me lightly, just to keep me awake. ‘Let me feed you some of my blood,’ he’d murmured gently, lifting his wrist to his mouth and piercing the skin. He’d held his wrist to my mouth then, and I’d gently sucked at his skin, tasting the metallic tang of his blood on my tongue. Seconds later, I felt wide awake, like nothing had happened at all.

For the next year, I went to his house twice a week for a few hours at a time. We’d usually watch a film or play a video game or just sit on our phones together in his room, when he wasn’t drinking my blood, of course. It didn’t take me long to realise he wasn’t exactly the shy soft boy I met that first day. Don’t get me wrong – he was still a little quiet sometimes, awkward and clumsy, a total scaredy cat, and he’d be shy around new people. But after a few weeks, once he was much more comfortable around me, different elements of his personality came out too. He was flirty and bratty and sassy and he could be a total whore – he loved his loose comfy clothes, but he also loved his tighter-than-skin jeans and slightly see-through shirts, leather and silk and expensive cotton blends, in black and navy tones. But he was also sensitive and emotional, thoughtful and sweet. It was soon obvious to me that he was multi-dimensional as a person, complex with so many levels, and I’d wanted nothing more than to get to know them all.

I met the majority of his clan members over that time, and they were all just as nice as Hyunjin. I spent a lot of time with them, because Yeji and our friends were friends with them too. We went to parties together, had a lot of movie nights or ordered takeout together at their clan house, meaning I spent more time with Hyunjin than I did with anyone else, which did nothing for my hopeless crush on him. But I didn’t mind that my attraction to him wasn’t reciprocated because we were slowly becoming best friends.

He was always so careful with me, so gentle, like I was an antique vase or a fine china teacup. He’d hold me close to him with a firm grip, and he’d take slow and steady gulps, never making more than two punctures in my skin when he fed on me. He would never have us sitting in one position for too long or feed on me for more than two minutes at a time – when he was particularly hungry, he’d feed on me three or four times in one sitting, but only for two minutes at a time. When he’d pull away, there was never any blood around his mouth like you see in the films, and no blood staining my neck either. He was clean and careful, always cautious of hurting me, and I was so grateful for that. Sometimes I’d run into Yeji at the house, after Chan had fed on her, and every now and then, she’d have blood all over her neck and shoulder or her clothes and hair would be a mess from Chan losing his composure and being a little rougher with her than usual. I would thank God each time, so lucky that Hyunjin treated me like a fragile doll.

After a year, I’d made enough money from being his donor – or, as Jisung loved to call me, Hyunjin’s personal blood bag – that I could put a deposit down on an apartment. I’d told my parents that I was working as an assistant at an accountancy firm when I didn’t have any lectures or seminars at university, which is why I was making so much money, and that Hyunjin was the only co-worker my own age, which is why I was with him so much. I moved into an apartment block around ten minutes from the clan house, on the same floor as Chaeryeong, and Hyunjin helped me move in. A couple of the other clan boys chipped in too so that, and I quote, ‘you have to let us stay with you when we want a break from the clan’.

Only a month after living at the apartment, I’d woken up in the middle of the night to someone hammering at the door. I’d jumped out of bed, dressed in just a little vest and satin shorts, arms and legs bare, stepping into my slippers as I rushed to the door. I’d had my phone in my hand and had typed in the number for the emergency services, ready to phone them if this was someone trying to rob me, and I’d opened the door carefully. Before I could even process what was going on, Hyunjin had burst in and thrown himself at me, pulling me into his arms and burying his head in my neck, my legs instinctually wrapping around his waist to keep myself steady.

‘Jin, are you oka-’ ‘I’m really fucking drunk, and all I could think about was you, and how hot you are, and how fucking amazing your blood is, and how much I wanna drain you dry, so I ditched the boys because I missed you too fucking much,’ he’d growled in my ear, making my eyes widen in shock and my underwear dampen embarrassingly quickly. He’d chuckled, taking a deep breath, before whispering, ‘judging by the sweet smell coming from your pussy, doll, I think you like the sound of that too.’

He’d kicked the door shut behind him and, with his vamp speed, we were in my bedroom only a few moments later, the vampire boy dropping me onto the bed and climbing over me instantly. ‘Listen, y/n, I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’m really, really drunk. Like… I’m wasted,’ he’d murmured into the skin of my neck, hands roughly trailing up and down the sides of my body. ‘I can tell,’ I’d replied breathlessly, hands tangled into his soft black locks, fluffy and messy around his forehead. ‘Which means… I’m not gonna be able to hold back. I probably won’t be gentle like I always am, because that always takes a lot of self-control, which I don’t… really have at the moment. So if you need me to stop, say… werewolf,’ he’d said against my skin, saying the last word with disdain. The werewolves and vampires had always had a long-standing rivalry, and he was obviously aware that the word would pull him out of any desire-filled reverie.

He hadn’t even given me a moment to reply before he’d sunk his teeth into my neck, rough and harsh, and I’d let out a gasp into his ear, his hands gripping onto my waist. He’d sucked at my neck, drinking my blood desperately, and I could feel it dripping down my shoulder and chest. And usually, when I wouldn’t be able to feel anything because of how gentle he was, all I could feel was pleasure, pure hot pleasure flooding through my veins. It was heavenly, and I’d let out little moans and whimpers into his ear, making him even more desperate, with my hands on his back, nails digging in through his thin white shirt.

It wasn’t long before his big veiny hands were wandering eagerly around my body, one palming at my breast and rolling the hard nipple between his fingertips, the other slipping under my shorts and pressing against my clothed core, my wetness having seeped through my underwear. He’d moved away from my neck and looked down at me with ruby red eyes, his jet black hair a sweaty mess and my blood dripping down his chin in harsh red lines. ‘Fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking hot. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,’ he’d growled, his pointed fangs on full display, making my chest tighten with desire. ‘Can I fuck you, doll? I need you so fucking bad right now,’ he’d asked lowly, hands both stilling against my body, and I’d instantly replied, ‘yes, Hyunjin, please.’

Now, another year later, it’s pretty common that we fuck when he feeds on me. I found out that it was so difficult for him to feed on me as gently as he used to, desperate to just throw me against a wall and drain me of every drop. But when I’d look at him nervously with my ‘big innocent eyes’, he knew he couldn’t hurt me. But that night, we’d found out that messy and rough feeding just felt… so much better. We’d also found out a lot of other things since that night; Hyunjin loves biting me in places other than my neck – my boobs and the insides of my thighs are his personal favourites – and I love it when he’s fucking me and bites me just as I’m about to cum – it heightens the pleasure a thousand times, making me see white and scream his name out like it’s being torn from my throat.

But, to my slight disappointment, sex is all it is. We’re like friends with benefits, but the benefits include feeding on me as well as sex. A lot of other things have changed though. Hyunjin practically lives at the apartment now – he sleeps here 4 or 5 nights a week. It’s like we share the apartment; he’s got as many of his belongings here as I do. I don’t mind it, though. He is pretty much my best friend, so spending time together is enjoyable, even if it means I’m falling more and more for him. Hyunjin’s paid me enough over the past couple years for me to be able to do my master’s degree, and I also managed to get a part time job at the coffee shop where Hyunjin and I first met, so it doesn’t feel like I’m solely relying on the money he gives me (it’s enough to fund me, but I don’t want him to think I’m like his little blood bag and nothing more – I basically am but we won’t talk about that).

This last week, though, I went away with the girls for a little last minute break to Rome (we’d planned to go for two weeks but then we would’ve missed Jackson’s Halloween party in a few days, and it’s already being called the party of the year, so we decided to just go for a week), and so he’s had to drink from blood bags whilst I was gone. He was sending me all these sad snapchats of him pouting with a straw in his mouth, wishing he was drinking from me instead – I think he wanted me to react to it with pity, but instead it was just turning me on. I landed back a couple hours ago, and I forgot to have my iron supplement vitamins when I arrived at the apartment, so he’s right – I had them when he knocked on the door.

I look down at him, sprawled out on his side of the sofa, his black locks a stark contrast against the grey cushions. He looks like such a boyfriend, dressed in a thin white t-shirt and a pair of grey joggers, white socks on his feet, glasses on his face and a silver chain around his neck. He looks up at me with a small grin on his face, eyes scanning my body. ‘You look hot, doll,’ he smirks, and I feel my cheeks heating up. I’m only in comfy travel clothes but he’s looking at me like I’m dressed up to the nines. ‘Thank you, Jin,’ I reply, sitting down beside him and letting him pull my legs across his lap.

‘I’m being serious. You look all glowy. And you’ve tanned a little. Did you have fun?’ he asks, hands skimming up and down my legs. ‘I loved it, Jin. We should go together. Everything was so beautiful. The sights are amazing, the weather is gorgeous, the food is delicious, the people are so lovely. The vibes there are just perfect. You’d love it,’ I tell him, and he just watches me as I speak, a small smile on his plump lips. ‘You’ll have to take me one day, angel,’ he murmurs, and I nod, unable to keep the shy smile from my face.

‘I saw on Ryujin’s story,’ he begins, and I knew this was coming, my heart sinking a little as he continues, ‘that you guys made friends with the people staying in the hotel room next to you. What were they like?’ ‘They were nice. We didn’t actually speak to them ‘til the fourth day, then we had dinner and drinks together on the fifth day, went sightseeing together on the sixth, and shopping together on the seventh. But, yeah, they were okay. They were a bit too… boisterous and noisy for my liking, but the girls got on with them, so I didn’t mind spending time with them,’ I explain honestly, and he just nods, looking like he still has more questions. ‘How many of them were there?’ ‘There were eight boys, and four of them brought their girlfriends. I got along better with their girlfriends than them, to be honest,’ I say lightly, Hyunjin just looking at me unreadably. ‘So you spent a few days in Rome with four single guys?’ he asks, voice tight, and I let out a gentle sigh.

‘Jin, do-’ ‘Answer the question, y/n.’ ‘Yes, we did. Is that a problem, Jin?’ ‘No, y/n, it’s not. Or, at least, it wouldn’t be, if you weren’t covered in a scent that isn’t yours,’ he says evenly, and my eyes widen. ‘I’m covered in someone else’s scent? Well… it must be Yuna’s, because we shared a bed. Or Lia’s – I wore her hoodie on the flight ba-’ ‘No, y/n. I’ve spent enough time with Yuna and Lia to know what they smell like. That’s not the scent on you. You smell like a human boy. So stop lying and tell me why,’ he says, voice tight, and I sigh. ‘Jin, I’m not lying. I didn’t, like, sleep with any of them, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ ‘Then why do you smell like a human boy?’ he asks slowly, obviously trying to keep his composure, and I take a deep breath.

‘I was sat next to one of them on the flight back, and he fell asleep. His head fell on my shoulder a couple times, and I felt bad to wake him up, so I just le-’ ‘You just what, y/n? You let a random human boy sleep on you? Get his scent all over you?’ he demands, hands tightening on my legs and veins protruding from beneath his honey skin. ‘Are you being serious right now, Jin?’ ‘Yes, I am. You can’t just let random human boys get their scent all over you.’ ‘And why not?’ I demand, voice shaky with anger as I take my legs off his lap, and he glares at me. ‘Because I pay you a lot of money to feed on you, and I don’t want anyone else getting near what’s mine,’ he growls, butterflies exploding in my stomach when his eyes glow red.

‘But I’m not yours, Jin. You pay me to feed on me. That’s all. There was no agreement that I would stay away from any other boy!’ I exclaim, shocked at how ridiculous he’s being and trying to ignore how much my body is aching for him, and he scoffs. ‘You don’t need any other boy. I give you all the companionship you need, I fund you so you buy anything you want, and I keep you satisfied. That’s all you need,’ he says simply, and my mouth falls open slightly. ‘What if I wanted a boyfriend? An actual relationship with a boy who loves me?’ I ask, giving him a chance to say what I so want him to say, and his eyes flash momentarily before he says, ‘you don’t want a relationship.’ ‘What if I did?’ ‘We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it. But, for now, you’re mine, y/n, and you know it. I don’t want you getting any other boys’ scents on you again, understood?’ he asks, and I just stare at him in shock, unable to believe how unreasonably he’s behaving.

He gives me a few seconds to reply and when I don’t, he moves so quickly I don’t even realise what’s happened until he’s hovering over me, my back pressing into the sofa, and his hand is pressed to my throat tightly. ‘I asked you if you understand,’ he says lowly, eyes glowing red and fangs glinting in the mellow light of the lamp, threateningly sharp. ‘No, Jin, I don’t. I don’t understand why I should have to stay away from other boys,’ I whisper, heart nearly beating out of my chest, and he lets out a harsh scoff. ‘Because you don’t need them. You only need me,’ he growls, tightening his grip on my throat, and I let out a little gasp of surprise, already feeling a slight dizziness in my head.

‘You only want me, too,’ he whispers, ducking his head so that his soft lips move against the skin over my collarbones, releasing my throat and moving his hand to hold my waist instead. ‘You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know how much you want me, doll? You forget how well I know you, much better than you can ever know yourself. I can sense your every thought, your every feeling – I can smell it on you. The way the serotonin rolls off you in waves when you look at me, the way you drip with dopamine when we touch, the way I feel like I’m drunk on your endorphins whenever I’m around. My presence makes you want me, angel, and we both know it,’ he murmurs softly between gentle kisses, fluffy hair tickling against my cheek, and all I can feel, more with each word, is complete and utter humiliation. Never once has he – or any of the other vampires I see on a daily basis – told me that they can do that – can sense humans’ emotions.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, pushing himself up on one forearm to look down at me with a half-smirk. ‘Don’t be embarrassed, doll. I love it – I really fucking love it – that you want me as much as I want you. As much as I’ve always wanted you, since the first moment I set eyes on you. It consumes me, angel, how much I want you,’ he admits, not looking me in the eyes as his hand slowly makes its way up from my waist to brush my hair back from my face, and the butterflies in my stomach are unbearable. ‘How much do you want me?’ I ask without thinking, the words coming out as a whisper, and his eyes flit up to meet mine, both of us silent as I wait for him to speak, hoping to God he’s going to say he wants me just as much as I want him – more than just sexually. ‘More than you can ever know, princess,’ he murmurs, sparkly brown eyes locking with mine, and my heart jumps at the nickname he so rarely calls me – I’m doll every day, angel when he’s in the mood, but I’m only princess every now and then, when his eyes sparkle the way they are now, like he’s looking at the universe and it’s reflected back in those beautiful brown eyes.

‘Let me… let me show you?’ he whispers, the words coming out slightly questioning, and I can’t help the small smile that spreads across my lips, despite not hearing quite what I wanted to. I slide my hand around the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his soft skin as I pull him down to me, eyes sliding shut as his lips meet mine. I never used to understand the hype over kissing. I never had any of the fireworks, the passion, the clashing tongues and teeth like you read in books and see in films. I only ever kissed one boy, once, and it was quite awkward – he practically tried to suck off my face from the get-go, his hands clamped on my shoulders. But Hyunjin, god, is he good at kissing? I could kiss him for the rest of my life, with his soft plump lips and his hands trailing all over my body.

He barely waits a second before parting my lips with his, tongue sliding into my mouth without a moment of hesitation and his big hand pressing against my waist. I tangle my hands into his hair, soft locks sliding between my fingers, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, as close as physically possible. Before I even have a chance to start feeling uncomfortable, I feel a rush a movement, and not even a few seconds later, I’m on my bed beneath him, our lips still pressed together.

He turns us over, my body laid on top of his, and I forget momentarily that my weight atop him is nothing in comparison to the kind of weight he can carry. I practically melt into him, my body melding into the curves and contours of his body, fitting us together like puzzle pieces. He slides his hands into my hair, the feeling of his fingers against my scalp making me let out a soft whine. ‘You’re fucking perfect, doll,’ he groans against my lips, my entire body tingling as our mouths move in sync, slow and passionate, not nearly as rushed and desperate as usual. His touches are gentle, careful and tender, where he usually holds me in a bruisingly tight grip, rough and possessive.

I slide my hands under his t-shirt tentatively, and he doesn’t even hesitate to sit up, breaking away from me momentarily as I pull the top over his head, throwing it over my shoulder as he reattaches his lips to mine. I slide my hands over his torso, fingers roaming over the ridges of his hard abs, his skin radiating heat. Vampires might have no circulation but the rumour about them being freezing cold all the time is false – their body temperature automatically regulates to the temperature around them, meaning he’s just as hot as I am right now.

His hands slide under my shirt, and we break apart again for him to pull it over my head, instantly leaning down to suck at the exposed skin of my breasts as he cups them, big hands covering them completely. I let out gentle whines, head falling back, and one of his hands comes to rest at the base of my exposed throat, asserting his dominance – I might be on top of him right now, but we both know who’s in charge here.

He doesn’t wait long before turning us over, kissing me for a few more moments before he climbs off me, standing at the foot of the bed. He gently grabs my ankles, pulling me down the bed, and I let out a gentle giggle, a smile on his face at the sound. He pulls off my socks, momentarily tickling the underside of one foot, and a startled laugh is forced out of me as I kick at his hand to make him stop. He reaches for the drawstring of my joggers with a grin, tugging it open deftly and pulling them down my legs swiftly.

My black underwear isn’t anything special, just a plain cotton bra and my high-waisted comfy granny pants, but his eyes trawl over my body like I’m in the finest lingerie, the bulge in his joggers becoming a little more noticeable, making my mouth water embarrassingly quickly – I could live on my knees for Hyunjin if that’s what he wanted me to do. His eyes meet mine, a small smirk on his lips as he drops to his knees, pulling me further down the bed so that my legs are slung over his broad shoulders, heels resting against his strong back.

His hands grab at my pants, ripping them away from my body effortlessly, reminding me again of just how strong he is – he could literally crush my neck without a single hair of his moving out of place. He spreads my legs further, eyes locked onto my core, and he lets out a gentle groan. ‘Fuck, so wet for me, angel,’ he murmurs, running a finger over my slit, a desperate whimper falling from my lips. ‘I don’t need prepping – just want you, Jin,’ I murmur, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘That’s the spirit, doll, but I don’t wanna rip you in half. We’ll see how well you take my fingers first,’ he says amusedly, not giving me a second to reply before he plunges a finger into me.

I gasp loudly, but the pleasure disappears with his finger which he lifts to his lips, eyes locked with mine as he licks his finger clean of my essence. His eyes flutter shut momentarily as he lets out a low moan, my pussy flooding at the sound. ‘You taste amazing, so fucking sweet. This pussy was made for me to eat, wasn’t it, angel?’ he asks, and when I take a second to reply, he raises an eyebrow, prompting me. ‘Yes, Jin, only for you,’ I reply hastily, and a satisfied smile spreads across his lips.

His finger slips between my folds again, and he doesn’t give me a second to react before he adds another, trying to work me open a little. ‘You’re so tight, doll. And you said you didn’t need prepping,’ he laughs, curling his long fingers inside me, making me clench around him. He slowly pumps in and out of me, rocking his hand against me gently, and I let out moan after moan at this completely foreign feeling. He’s always so quick, so desperate to have me fall apart on his hand as fast as I could, but this? This is different, this is slow, heavenly, like he wants me to enjoy this blissful feeling.

He adds another finger, just about fitting inside me, and I throw my head back against the bed, back arching up as I let out a loud moan of his name. ‘Fuck, angel, you’re killing me. Love your pretty moans,’ I hear him murmur, his voice just about breaking through the pleasure that rolls over me like waves crashing, and his thumb appears at my clit, rubbing slow circles that make me whimper desperately. I look down at him, stomach turning when I realise he’s been watching me, eyes studying my face for my reactions as his fingers work their magic, and I can barely maintain his eye contact, hearing him chuckle when my head falls back, mouth falling open in a moan.

His fingers disappear from inside me after a few minutes, giving me a momentary reprieve from the overwhelming pleasure as he moves closer to me, warm breath fanning out over my core. ‘Oh, god,’ I moan out when he licks a long stripe up my slit without warning. My hands instantly reach down to tangle into his hair, tugging at the locks as he sucks at my clit with his plump lips, making my toes curl. He flicks his tongue over my folds, whimpers spilling from my lips as I squirm, and Hyunjin puts one arm over my waist, pressing down to hold me in place.

He pokes his tongue between my folds, gently pushing into my core, and my mouth falls open into a silent scream when he begins to slowly rub at my clit with his thumb, my legs slamming into his back and pulling him even closer, as close as possible, his head completely buried between my legs. Wet and obscene slurping sounds drown out my desperate moans, and Hyunjin begins to let out grunts and groans against me, lapping at me like a man possessed.

I feel myself getting closer, the knot in my stomach tightening as Hyunjin sucks at my clit, pushing two fingers into me and pumping them at a mind-numbing pace. ‘Gonna cum for me, angel?’ he hums against me, and I can’t even muster up the sanity to reply, just moaning out his name, and he lets out a low chuckle before flicking his tongue over my sensitive bud, fingers curling against the spongy spot inside me. I tense up completely, head pressed back into the bed as I call out his name in a moan, releasing all over his hand and tongue. He works me through my orgasm, gently rocking his hand against me as he laps at my folds. ‘God, you taste amazing,’ he murmurs once I’ve come down from my high, licking the last bit of my release from his fingers, and it takes all my effort to lock my eyes with his as he does so, his lips quirking up into a smirk.

And then he lifts his wrist to his mouth, and I know what’s coming, stomach turning with excitement as he bites down into the skin. When he pulls his wrist away from his mouth, I push myself up onto my hands shakily, leaning forward to his wrist that he holds out to me, blood blooming from the smallest little wounds in his skin. I hold his arm to my mouth, sucking at the dots of blood, the metallic taste exploding on my tongue, and not a second after swallowing it down, I feel my energy coming back, regaining my strength quickly.

He pulls his arm away after a few seconds, his focus returning to between my legs, but when he lowers his head, his lips land on my inner thigh rather than my pussy, and I brace myself for the initial sting. His sharp fangs puncture into my soft thigh, the smallest sharp pain making me wince, but it quickly disappears when he hungrily gulps down my blood, messy and desperate. He lets out groans against my thigh, my blood dripping down my skin as he drinks me like a man starved, and I can already feel myself weakening, the pleasure making my head light and dizzy. He lifts his arm up again after a few moments, the two tiny puncture wounds still bleeding, and I lick it up, the weakness disappearing instantly.

He pulls away after around a minute, my blood dripping down his chin in two lines from the corners of his mouth, as though he’s greedily taken more of me into his mouth than he could handle, and he smirks at me as I wipe it up, putting my now bloodstained finger to his lips. He licks my finger in one swift motion, eyes closing as he savours the taste. ‘It’s not fair, angel. You shouldn’t have such a sweet pussy and delicious blood. You’ve got the whole package,’ he murmurs lightly, making me laugh as he rises from his knees, a small smile playing at his lips.

He looks down at me, dark eyes flitting over my body, and I feel conscious under his intimidating gaze. He seems to sense that I want to curl in on myself, shield my body from his view, and he gives me a soft smile. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n, and you don’t even know it. You’re heavenly, angel,’ he murmurs softly, holding out a hand to me, and I take it, letting him pull me up from the bed and into his arms. He holds me so tenderly, so gently, that I can’t help but bury my head into his chest, his soft and floral scent flooding my senses.

‘Gonna let me fuck you, angel?’ he asks, voice low, and I take a step back from him, a small smile on my face. ‘Wanna suck your dick first,’ I reply, his eyes darkening instantly, and I can’t help the grin on my face when he groans, ‘you’re one of a fucking kind.’ I take his hand into mine, pulling him around to the side of the bed. I kneel on the bed, hands on his shoulders to steady myself, and once I’m comfortable, I pull the drawstring on his joggers open, slipping my hands under to push them halfway down his thighs. He’s wearing a pair of plain black boxers, his bulge straining against the material, but I don’t pull them down just yet, instead moving my attention to his torso.

He’s so perfect, sculpted by the Gods, and I can’t help but admire his body every time I see it, hands running up his stomach and chest, and over his big shoulders. I bring my lips up to his collarbone, kissing and sucking to leave a mark, threading my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck. He waits patiently, hands on my waist, lips letting out gentle sighs every now and then, and I can’t help but respect his self-control. He’s always so patient, putting me before himself, and I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for him.

I take pity on him after a little while, moving from his neck and looking up at him with a small smile as my hands trail down to his underwear. I slip my hands beneath the waistband, pulling his boxers down just enough for his hard length to spring up against his stomach, Hyunjin letting out a gentle hiss. He’s so long with a perfect curve (he has the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen), and his head is painfully swollen and red, the tip leaking with milky white precum. My mouth waters at the sight.

I lean down and press a kiss to the tip, tongue sliding out to taste some of his precum, and he lets out a shaky breath. I spread his wetness down his length with one hand, his hands coming to tangle into my hair. I place my tongue at the base, licking up to the tip against the vein on the underside of his cock, and he tenses as I do so, gripping my hair tightly. I take his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as my hands slowly rub the rest of his length. I look up at him through my lashes as I take him further into my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat, and his head falls back, a soft moan falling from his lips.

I gradually build my pace, steadily bobbing my head on him and taking him as far in as possible. ‘Such a good girl, doll,’ he groans, gentle moans falling from his lips more and more often now, and I know it isn’t going to be long before he loses all control. I’m just beginning to adjust to having him hit the back of my throat with each bob of my head when his hips start twitching, and he begins thrusting into my mouth, controlling my head movements with his hands fisted into my hair. All I can do I grab onto the backs of his thighs as he fucks my mouth, my eyes beginning to water. His tip hits the back of my throat harshly, and I gag around him loudly, making him curse as he bucks into my throat.

‘Swallow,’ he instructs, voice not nearly as gentle and soft as a few minutes ago, and I try my best to do so, my throat contracting around him in noisy gags. ‘Come on, doll, you can take me further than that,’ he says teasingly, before pulling my head forward, his cock pushing down my throat and my lips wrapped around the base of his cock, and he can barely thrust back and forth because of how tight my throat is around him, desperately gagging to push him back out. Tears stream down my face, saliva running down my chin, and my choked gags and desperate breaths mingling with his soft grunts and whispered words of comfort in the air.

I can feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in my throat, and I ready myself to feel his hot release hit the back of my throat, but he pulls me off him with a loud sigh, looking down at me with tender eyes. He wipes the saliva from my face with gentle fingers, tilting my head up to kiss away the tear tracks that stain my skin, hand stroking my hair soothingly. ‘Always so good for me, angel. Gonna let me fuck you now?’ he asks, our eyes locked together, and I nod eagerly. ‘Please, Jin, want you,’ I breathe out, throat hoarse, and he grins, pressing his lips to mine in a brief kiss.

‘Lie down for me,’ he says, and I do so, watching as he pulls his joggers and boxers down his legs and kicking them away impatiently before he joins me on the bed, hovering over me. ‘You’re still in your bra, doll. This won’t do,’ he grins, slipping a hand beneath my body to expertly unclasp my bra. I pull it off me quickly, throwing it off to the side as Hyunjin ducks his head, flicking his tongue across one nipple as he rolls the other between his fingers, toying and tugging at it gently. I let out a gentle whimper, tangling my fingers into his hair, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘Want me to bite you, angel?’ he asks teasingly, and I let out a low moan as confirmation, feeling his sharp fangs slide into the soft flesh of my breast not a moment later.

I gasp loudly, pleasure flooding through my veins as he swallows down my blood hungrily, the heady haze of bliss settling over me more and more with each gulp. Whimpers and moans fall from my lips every few seconds, my hands in his hair pulling him closer and closer, one of his big hands gripping onto my waist, fingers rubbing against my skin comfortingly. He doesn’t drink a lot this time, having had more than enough from my thigh, so I don’t feel too weak, but he still feeds me a little of his blood when he’s done, making me smile up at him.

‘Are you sure you still want me to fuck you? Have you got enough energy?’ he asks softly, brushing my hair back from my face, and I nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. ‘I want it, Jinnie. I want you,’ I whisper against his lips, and I feel him grin, resting on one forearm as he rubs his head against my folds teasingly. ‘Jin… please,’ I breathe out, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he lets out a low chuckle. ‘I like hearing you beg, doll,’ he murmurs, smile playing at his lips as he continues running his head up and down my folds, tapping the tip against my clit every few seconds, the wetness gushing from my core soaking him. ‘Please, Jin, need you to fuck me, fill me up with your cock, bite me and drain me dry, need it so bad,’ I plead pathetically, and his eyes darken at my words, the boy letting out a gentle ‘fuck’.

He sinks into me slowly, and I gasp as he inches in, enjoying the burning stretch and gripping onto his strong shoulders as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me with my ankles locked together. He lets out a low groan when he bottoms out, our bodies lined up perfectly, and he brings his hand up to my mouth, slipping two fingers past my lips. I roll my tongue around them as he gives me a moment to stop clenching around him and adjust to the stretch. He pushes his fingers a little further in, making me gag around them, and I shoot him evils, Hyunjin trying to look apologetic, but failing miserably and looking amused instead.

‘Can I- fuck, angel, you gotta stop clenching, gonna make me cum. Can I move? Doll, please, I need to move,’ he pleads, the words coming out as a low whine, and I feel a thrill in my stomach. I can’t help but feel pride at being able to make Hyunjin – someone so dominant – whiny and submissive because he’s that desperate to fuck me. I hum out permission around his fingers, and he pulls all the way out before pushing back in, slow and deep, the drag of his cock against my walls making us both moan. ‘Fuck, so tight, angel. So wet and tight. Fucking love this pussy, doll,’ he growls as he fucks into me, dark eyes locked with mine as I moan around his fingers.

‘How’d you want it, y/n? Want me to fuck you slow, doll, or so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?’ he asks in a low voice, hips stilling as he pulls his fingers out of my mouth, and I let out a gentle whine, not quite sure what I want. ‘Anything, Jin, just need you,’ I whisper breathlessly, and he grins a cocky grin, his ego satisfied. His hand comes to the base of my throat, pads of his fingers resting against my blood vessels, and he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty, before slamming all the way back in, knocking all of the air out of me in a desperate moan, his balls slapping against my ass.

‘You were only gone a week but, fuck, I missed you so fucking much. Missed your sweet pussy and your sweet blood, angel. Couldn’t stop myself from jacking off to the thought of this tight, wet little cunt, doll,’ he growls against my ear, his hand at my throat tightening just a little, and I let out a pathetic whimper in reply, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal gushing out of me, coating his thighs and abdomen. ‘So wet, doll, gushing around me. Did you miss my cock, angel?’ he asks between thrusts, my hands tangling into his soft locks, gripping tightly. ‘Missed your cock so much, Jin. Wanted you so fucking bad while I was gone. Never wanna leave you again,’ I try to say, half of it coming out as garbled nonsense and moans, and he lets out a low groan, his thrusts becoming even harder and deeper, his silver chain brushing against my chin with each thrust.

His hand tightens even more, completely cutting off my airflow, and my head instantly starts to become light, the pleasure increasing endlessly with each second. ‘More,’ I barely manage to breathe out, and he lets out a gentle chuckle, doing as I say, fucking me so hard that the bed creaks with each thrust. ‘My dirty little girl. Can’t even handle what I’m already giving you, and you’re asking for more. You forget how strong I am. I’m gonna tear you in half as this rate, angel,’ he murmurs against my ear, hand still tight at my throat, silver rings digging into my skin, and I don’t even feel fear, like I probably should. All I can feel is pure, hot need.

He moves one of my legs from around his waist, bringing it up between us so that my ankle rests on his shoulder, the new position allowing him to go deeper, so much deeper, and his tip scrapes against the spot inside me that makes me scream. He reaches down to rub at my clit, bringing me closer to my climax, and I can feel my vision beginning to go blank when he ducks his head to suck at my neck with his plump lips. The mixed sensations of his hand at my throat, his cock filling me up perfectly, his thumb at my clit and his mouth sucking marks onto my skin makes my eyes flutter shut, the pleasure overwhelming me.

‘Look at me, angel. Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you,’ he growls, cock dragging against my walls, and it takes all my energy to open my eyes. His jaw is clenched, sweat dripping down his face, lips swollen, eyes dark and dilated, glinting red every few seconds, his chain dangling in my face. He looks like sin incarnate. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty. So fucking pretty,’ he groans, releasing my throat from his tight grip, and I take a deep gasping breath, not even realising how much I needed to breathe. He holds his wrist to his mouth, biting at it again and pushing it against my mouth. I lick up the small drops of blood, quickly regaining my strength, and he presses his lips to mine once I’m done, in a brief passionate and sloppy kiss.

He breaks away from me with a grin, continuing to fuck me hard and deep, swollen tip scraping against the spongy spot inside me, and I let out desperate moans and whimpers of his name, Hyunjin grunting and groaning sinfully softly as tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. I clench around him sporadically, knowing my high is nearing, and he knows it too, his hand slipping down to my clit and rubbing slow circles with his thumb, making me call out his name. ‘Gonna cum for me, doll?’ he asks, and I can’t even bring myself to reply, just nodding along with loud moan, and he grins, his cock still hammering into me.

‘Want you to cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock, y/n, soak it up like a good little girl. So good for me, angel, wanna feel you cum around me,’ he prompts, pushing me closer and closer, the knot in stomach becoming tighter and tighter, and I’m so close, practically there, hanging on the precipice of my high. He grins at me, his lethal fangs sliding out and his eyes glowing red before he ducks his head, biting into the soft flesh of my neck and pushing me over the edge. I scream out his name as he gulps down my blood, numbing bliss flowing through me like morphine, his cock still rocking into me and his thumb toying with my clit. My vision is completely blank, neither white nor black, just… blank, pleasure exploding within me, and I feel my consciousness slipping away until Hyunjin’s finger slips between my lips. He must have bitten it because I taste his blood on my tongue, bringing me back to this moment with him.

He breaks away from my neck when I’ve come down from my high, lips and chin covered in my blood and his eyes still flickering red as he grins, both hands digging into the mattress on either side of my head, the pace of his thrusts increasing once more, his cock slamming into me as he chases his high. I wrap my legs around his waist tightly, arms around his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, hard enough to leave marks. I try not to let the overstimulation stop me from getting him to his climax, my pussy clenching around him with sensitivity, and when I feel his cock twitching inside me, desperate moans falling from his lips and face scrunching up with desperate desire, I know he’s about to cum. I dig my heels into his back to hold him deep inside me, and his head drops down to my neck.

‘Cum in me, Jin. Wanna feel you cum in me, please. Fill me up, Jin. Cum for me, baby,’ I murmur into his ear and he does as I ask, moaning my name loudly against my neck as his entire body tenses up. He bites into me again as he releases inside me, his hot thick cum painting my insides as he slowly moves his hips against me, leisurely sucking my blood. He gently rocks into me until he’s finished and I’m completely out of breath, both of us covered in blood, sweat, tears and cum.

‘God, you’re so good for me, angel,’ he murmurs gently after pulling away from my neck, his fangs retracting before he presses kisses to the skin he’s just bitten, sucking and nipping to leave marks. I play with his hair, body still tensing with aftershocks, and he runs his hands up and down my body, caressing my sweaty skin. Every movement, every action, every featherlight touch of his is so comforting, so tender, that I feel like I can stay here with him forever, letting him worship my body so gently like this, my hands playing with his soft, fluffy locks.

But after a while, I can feel myself drifting away, and I know I can’t sleep like this – covered in various… liquids, with completely soiled sheets and a vampire practically drunk on my blood lying on top of me. ‘Jin… I gotta get up. Clean myself up before I sleep,’ I murmur, and he whines, making me smile at his bratty behaviour. ‘No, wanna stay like this,’ he mumbles against my breast, having ventured down to leave marks on the soft flesh beside my nipple. ‘We can after. Just let me have a quick shower and change the sheets,’ I say softly, and he sighs, waiting a few moments before he pulls out of me and gets up off me, standing up beside the bed.

‘Wait here a second,’ he says before heading towards the bathroom, giving me a view of his cute little ass as he goes. I lie there in silence for a couple minutes, focused on the feeling of his thick cum trickling out of me, before he reappears with a smile, making my heart stop momentarily. His hair is pasted to his forehead with sweat, the bottom half of his face is covered in blood, his lips are swollen and his eyes are lidded with the drunken tiredness of being full on blood, but he looks like the most beautiful man in the world to me.

He scoops me up into his arms, bridal style, and carries me into the bathroom, my eyes on his face the entire time, a small smile on his lips because he knows I’m watching him and admiring him. When we walk into the bathroom, my eyes flit to the bathtub, which is now full. I realise he’s drawn me a bath, my heart swelling when he gently puts me down, not letting go until my feet are firmly on the floor. ‘Go to the toilet first. Don’t want you getting a UTI,’ he says, and I let out a bratty whine, making him raise an eyebrow. ‘Toilet. Now,’ he says, and I pout, stomping to the toilet. His eyes stay locked with mine as I piss, and I let out a laugh after a few seconds – the fact that he’s stood there naked and covered in blood watching me as I wee naked and covered in blood is just so funny to my sleep deprived and jet-lagged mind – and he just rolls his eyes with an amused smile.

Once I’m done washing my hands, I practically bound to the bath eagerly, and he helps me to climb in. I sigh happily as sit in the tub, the temperature of the water perfect to cool down my burning hot skin. I lean back against the edge, my eyelids drooping with tiredness as I watch him wash his face in the sink, cleaning away all the blood. ‘What a waste,’ he murmurs as he watches the red-tinted water wash down the sinkhole, making me let out a little laugh, and he smiles softly at the sound. He climbs into the shower and I watch as he turns the dial, the glass fogging up as the water rains down over him, soaking his honey skin and his pitch black hair.

I love watching Hyunjin do anything, my eyes not leaving his face as he gently scrubs at his skin with my passionfruit-scented shower gel, but I’m so tired that, without even realising it, I fall asleep after a few minutes. Hyunjin wakes me with a tender smile, once he’s out of the shower, wearing fresh underwear and joggers, his chest bare and a towel around his neck to gather the water that drips from his dark hair. I’m too tired to even speak as he washes me, soft hands rubbing gently at my skin, cleaning away the sweat on my body, the blood stains around where he bit me, the dried release around my thighs and the echoes of tear tracks on my face. Neither of us speak the entire time, but we don’t really have to – his touches on my body say everything he wants to say, and my gaze locked onto his face says anything I want to say.

He drains the bath, drying me carefully and carrying me back into the bedroom once he’s done, redressing me in a clean pair of underwear and a soft t-shirt of his that I’ve claimed as my own. He must have changed the sheets whilst I was asleep in the bath, and we climb into my bed together, his arms holding me close. I almost fall asleep the instant my head lands on the pillow, eyes fluttering shut as my body lines up with Hyunjin’s, his front pressed to my back and his arms around my waist. I stay awake just long enough to hear him whisper something, something that sounds suspiciously like what I’ve wanted to hear from him for nearly as long as I’ve known him, but sleep takes me before I can reply.

When I wake in the morning, the other side of the bed is empty, and his bedroom is empty too. And when I see that his shoes are gone from beside the door, I realise he must have left whilst I was asleep. I practically turn the apartment upside down, but he hasn’t left me a note. I check my phone, but he hasn’t texted or called. I can barely make it back into bed before I dissolve into tears, sobbing as though my heart would break.

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yakultberry · 3 years

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kfc (kisses for christmas) ; c.sc

✪ summary: You’re unexpectedly single on Christmas Day, but you don’t want to spend it alone. At least you can count on the cute delivery boy to bring you fried chicken. ✪ pairing: chicken delivery boy!seungcheol x reader ✪ genre: fluffy fluff ✪ word count: 2.1k words ✪ tags: @yutacrush thank you for beta reading for me i would like to marry you

✪ a/n: helllo binu here!! i am very excited to be posting my first fic on yakultberry c: this fic is actually part of @merakiiverse‘s job au collaboration (will link after posting). i really have a lot of respect for everyone who writes straight up fluff, because ooooof did i struggle way more than i expected while writing this lmao hopefully it turned out okay and y’all can enjoy! <33

[chicky delivery boy]: your order is 5 minutes away!

At the arrival of the text, you scrambled out of your position on the couch and quickly began to clear away the dirty dishes on your coffee table and the used tissues that had accumulated over the course of the day. You weren’t quite sure what ghost of Christmas past possessed you to continue your annual tradition of binging cheesy holiday movies all day, but you supposed it was because you were at a loss for what to do at all. You had spent the last two Christmases with that asshole. It wasn’t like you could call up your friends to hang out with you today; no, they were lucky enough to have nice boyfriends who didn’t break up with them two months before the holidays. And you definitely weren’t going to go out on the town by yourself, only to be forced to watch all the happy couples cuddle close to each other in the cold.

So here you were, alone in your apartment, waiting on your fried chicken to be delivered.

It seemed to be the one constant in your life amongst the aftermath of your chaotic break up. Whenever you made an order, it would arrive at your doorstep within thirty minutes, always warm and always comforting. Although you wouldn’t quite say that Joy’s Chicken was the best chicken restaurant in the area (the family-owned joint two blocks over was definitely much tastier), it still managed to become your go-to after the delivery person from the family restaurant got lost on their way to your apartment for the third time. That, and once your order had arrived on your doorstep, brought to you by a dimpled, dark-haired delivery boy, you quickly decided that the restaurant had its own charms.

“Coming!” you called out to the gentle knock at the front door, skipping across your living room to reach it. After checking your reflection in the mirror hanging in the hallway, you swung the door open, smiling brightly. “Finally, I’m starving-- what happened to you?”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the boy said with a chuckle, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped tightly around his face. You reached over to pull down the scarf to reveal that he was smiling back at you, though you did note that his lips were pale and his teeth were chattering. The thick, puffy coat he wore could only do so much when he was covered with a snow from head to toe. You watched as some of it crumbled off of his shoulders when he shuffled to take your food out of an insulator. Today, the box had a cute little bow stuck to the top of it. “Merry Christmas! This is for you.”

You took the bag from his hands, but, as usual, you didn’t close the door right away. “Seungcheol, you look like a marshmallow.”

“Wow, I take it you didn’t get a present for me?” He leaned against your doorframe, a pout now on his lips. “I wish I was a marshmallow. Then I could jump into some hot chocolate and finally feel warm. It’s been snowing non-stop out there since 7PM.”

At this, you felt a small twinge of guilt for being one of his orders tonight, especially knowing that Seungcheol would often make your deliveries by foot since you didn’t live too far from Joy’s. “Does your shift end soon at least?”

“Yeah, we’re closing a little earlier today since the boss has Christmas plans! You’re actually my last delivery for tonight.”

“Oh well, if that’s the case,” you said tentatively, stepping to the side. “Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate before you have to head back into the storm? It’s the least I could do since I did forget to get you a present.”

The boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his grin remained, albeit a bit amused. Now some would say that inviting some random guy into your apartment just because you didn’t want to be alone on Christmas was probably not the best idea, but Seungcheol was definitely not just some random guy. Every Friday for the past eight or so weeks, Seungcheol had arrived at your doorstep with a box of chicken with your name on it. He probably came by more frequently than your regular friends now that you really thought about it. After the first couple of times he delivered, he decided to introduce himself to you since he thought it was unfair that he already knew your name and you only saw him as the guy that brings your chicken (which wasn’t entirely true-- you saw him as the cute guy that brings you your chicken).

“Unless you have your own Christmas plans to get to, of course,” you quickly added. Admittedly, your conversations with Seungcheol only ever extended to silly banter, so there was no telling what his life was like beyond the threshold of your doorstep. For all you knew, he could very well have a get together planned with his friends or a dinner with his family. Or a date with a girlfriend.

“I mean, I was planning on watching Die Hard by myself again, but I think I can be a little late for that,” Seungcheol mused playfully. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading across your lips as you moved back to allow him to step into your apartment for the first time. He took off his shoes and shrugged off his thick coat before following you to your small kitchen.

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you too long,” you said, and reached over him to grab two mugs from a cabinet.

“I mean, you can keep me for as long as you like,” he shrugged, but you were quick to catch the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You suddenly realized that this was the closest you’ve ever stood together and turned away to begin preparing the hot chocolate in the hopes of hiding how flustered you felt.

“Anyway uh--” you cleared your throat, but it was proving difficult to think up a conversation starter when you could feel Seungcheol so close. You chanced a glance over at him, noting how he was still rubbing his hands together and shuffling in his spot to warm himself up. “Oh no, you must be freezing.”

He shook his head, but you could see how the snow that had clung to his clothes was slowly melting and soaking into the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m fine. Though I’m definitely not as warm as you.” You followed his gaze down to the festive pajama set you had been wearing all day, which was patterned with reindeers and sleighs, and you reached over to shove at his chest lightly.

“I was doing laundry and this is all I had!” Your voice can barely be heard over the boy’s gleeful snickering. It was now your turn to pout at him. “You know what, it’s actually really bad to stand around in cold, wet clothes. You might get sick. And lucky for you, since I am such a caring person, I have precisely the outfit that will save you from such a fate.”

“Oh no, that’s fine--”

Before he could finish, you had already whisked away to your room and returned with a folded set of pajamas that clearly matched your own. You gave him a cute little smile as you handed it to him. “No, I insist! I’ll even put your wet clothes in the dryer so that you can properly get nice and warm.” At this point, Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you. “What?”

“You just happened to have couple pajamas at the ready?” Seungcheol hummed. “Seems like you were planning this for a while now, sweetheart.”

“What, no! I got them on sale last year!”

“Mm, a likely story,” he said, ducking away just in time to avoid your poke attack. Despite his teasing, he still asked you where the bathroom is, and you nearly let out a long sigh when he’s out of sight. Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest, but you weren’t quite sure why. Were you nervous? Scared? If you were honest, everything about Seungcheol put you at ease; plus, nothing about your interactions with him changed other than proximity. So why did you feel so sheepish when he teased and joked around like he always did?

While he was changing, you finished preparing the hot chocolate, topping them off with some whipped cream, and brought your mugs and your box of chicken into the living room. A small window in your apartment showcased the sky outside, which was dark and dotted with heavy sheets of snow, contrasting with your living room’s warm glow from the light of your small Christmas tree. It made you feel perfectly cozy, especially with the hot cup of cocoa in your palms.

“Ta-dah! How do I look?” Seungcheol announced, walking out to you. The sight of him grinning at you goofily and clad proudly in the matching pajamas only made the fuzzy more prominent until it made your smile just as wide as his. There it was again-- that perplexing heart beat of yours. It accelerated as he came to take a seat beside you on the couch.

“A lot warmer!” You handed him his hot chocolate. “Here is the promised beverage. Merry Christmas, Seungcheol.”

“I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of ‘blindingly handsome’,” he sighed out dramatically, taking a sip of his drink. Immediately, his eyes lit up. “But I’ll let it slide this time, because this is delicious.”

A small giggle slipped past your lips as you watched him drink his hot chocolate with gusto, and when he reemerged from behind his mug, you couldn’t hold back a loud snort seeing how his top lip was decorated with a proper mustache of white cream. You nearly fell over from laughing so hard at his confused expression

“What? What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Between your bursts of laughter, you managed to point at his lips. He reached up and playfully clenched his jaw when he felt the cream covering his mouth. “Oh, you it’s that funny, huh?” He swiped up some of the remaining whipped cream in his mug onto his finger and reached over to place it on your nose.

“Hey!” You scrunch your nose. For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other before bursting into another fit of giggles. “You’re Santa Claus and I’m Rudolph.”

Still chuckling, Seungcheol grabbed a tissue from your coffee table and wiped at his lips, then cleaned off the dollop he had placed on your nose. Your laughter subsided at how such a simple action also felt so intimate. You did your best to avoid his twinkling gaze if only to calm yourself.

“You know, when I took on the responsibility of warming you up, I wasn’t expecting you to be such a handful,” you admitted jokingly, though some parts of you meant it. Namely your easily excitable heart.

“Oh yeah? Well, I wasn’t expecting you to take so long.”

You turned to face him once again. “I gave you fresh pajamas and some hot chocolate! You’re still not warmed up?”

“They’re not taking effect fast enough!” he insisted with another of his infamous pouts.

“Then do you know a faster way?” you asked and almost instantly, Seungcheol expression changes, but this time it’s not a mischievous smile or a childish pout. It’s something softer, gentler.

“Mm, I might know a quick way to warm up. Do you want me to show you?” he asked. You blinked, gaze meeting with Seungcheol’s eyes as he patiently waited for your reply. Despite the somersaults you felt in your chest, you were now more sure than ever that you didn’t feel nervous. Upon the realization what the feeling really was, your lips easily melted into a soft smile, and you gave him a nod. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaned over to you and delivered a sweet, chaste kiss on your cheek.

The effect was instantaneous: Seungcheol’s ears were the first to go red as his entire face heated up. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he groaned out, covering his blushing face. “That was so cheesy!”

“I thought it was cute!” you assured him, but your laughter does nothing to ease his cringing.

“Don’t look at me for five minutes!” he whined.

“Seungcheol really, it’s okay!”

“Just eat your chicken or something!”

#seventeen scenarios #s.coups scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen #s.coups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #tags pls work #let my blog get some visibility

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Animal crackers part 2!! @errorfreak88 @digitl-art-monstr

Content warning!! Blood, childhood trama, physical injury

Donatello didn't move from the spot where Raphael had left him, staring off into the tunnel with nothing but the occasional pacing to keep him occupied. Raphael had been gone for hours— that was several hours too long, and it wasn’t like Raphael to miss lunch. Splinter had woken up almost thirty minutes ago to start preparing it. Donatello wondered how long it would take before Splinter noticed that Raphael wasn’t there at his side trying to taste everything and gobble up his share before it was even completely prepared. Splinter only ever got four hours of sleep a day—five if he was lucky—so maybe he wouldn’t notice the absence. Maybe not unless someone brought it up…?

Donatello made up his mind. He joined his father in the kitchen and, before his mind could try and force him to chicken out, he called to his father.

“Yes Purple? Splinter yawned, glancing back at Donatello with the heavy eyes he often had.

“I have something to tell you…”

Even in his deprived state, Splinter could tell something was wrong. He left the food he was preparing on the counter and hurried to kneel beside Donatello. He cupped the four year old's head in his hands to have Donatello look up at him.

“Whatever is the matter, Purple?”

Donatello’s eyes swam with tears, and he finally broke down crying, charging forward to hug Splinter in attempts to gain forgiveness while he explained himself. He quickly told Splinter everything that happened, from Raphael leaving to Raphael knocking him down to how long Raphael had been gone. He tried his best to explain that he tried to stop Raphael and he thought Raphael would come back on his own.

Splinter, despite the anxious knot twisting around in his stomach, only hugged Donatello and gave soft, shushing noises. He pet his paw carefully across the leathery shell and nosed his whiskers against Donatello’s cheek.

“It is alright Donatello…” He soothed. He planted a kiss on the large forehead. “We will just have to push lunch back a little later while I go to find your brother, that’s all. Can you be a big boy and watch the kitchen to make sure Blue and Orange don’t try to sneak a snack?”

Donatello sniffled and wiped his eyes, sitting up a little straighter as he tried to be strong like his dad. “Yes sir!”

“There’s my strong, brave softshell.” Splinter pinched Donatello’s cheeks before heading off.

***

Raphael was scared. At first, he had thought that the human was letting free when he had been dragged out of the net by the base of his tail. In actuality, it had only been to be tossed into another cage, this one smaller and metal and cold. The bars that worked as the floor hurt his feet immensely and, no matter how he shifted his weight, it would hurt all the same.

“I wanna go home…” Raphael whimpered. “Please let me out. My feet hurt…”

“Oh, don’t worry. You'll go home soon enough.” The human said.

Raphael watched the human wash and sharpened something shiny and silver— something metal. He didn't know what to call it, but he didn't want it anywhere near him…

“Why can’t I go home now?” He held his stomach and whined. “It’s almost lunch time. I hungry…”

“Hungry for what?” The man snarled, spinning quickly to face Raphael, holding the metal tool just inches from Raphael’s mouth. “Human?”

“What?” Raphael squeaked and wiped his eyes, “I don’t eat human. I eat peaches. And animal crackers…”

“Sure you do.” The doctor growled, “If there’s one of you, there’s bound to be more of you. Am I right?”

Raphael didn't answer.

“Your silence is deafening, young turtle. You say you eat ‘peaches’ but those fangs of yours say otherwise.”

Raphael brought a hand to his mouth and to his snag tooth. “Is my snaggle toothy. Daddy says its cute.”

“I suppose so. I need to have proof of your existence, but I don’t wanna kill you just yet.”

“What’s kill…?” Raphael asked softly. He flinched and covered his eyes as a bright camera flash blinded him.

“It means you go to a forever sleep like the animal you are. But a live specimen would be worth a lot more to me.”

The human swung the door open. Raphael tried to run, but he was snagged by the leg and lifted painfully and carried over to the table struggling and kicking.

“No! No no no!” He grabbed a chair, but only managed to yank it down as he was still pulled along. “No kill, no kill!”

“Didn't you just hear me? I said I wasn’t— gonna—kill you!”

Raphael was shoved onto a table, still struggling, and was strapped down with a leather restraint around his chest and legs. He reached down and tried to bite the strap, only for the human to grab him by the throat and force his head down.

“They called me crazy, but I knew there was a cryptid hiding in this sewer. I knew of the rat, but not of you. They’ll see, they’ll all see! But I, of course, have to make sure you’re no longer a threat before I show you off. And we can start…”

He forced Raphael’s mouth open and jammed the metal tool inside, locking onto Raphael’s snaggle tooth.

“With that tooth of yours.”

***

Splinter was tracking Raphael by his scent when he heard a scream. A scream far too deep to belong to his son, but a scream that concerned him nonetheless. It wasn’t one of fear-/ it was one of pain. Deep, agonizing pain that Splinter knew all too well.

“Red!” Splinter dropped to all fours to race after the sound, skidding unsteadily into what looked like a makeshift office, with chairs and a desk and tools that made Splinter flashback to his time with Baron Draxum. For a moment, his eyes glossed over, and he was lost in his own memory. Then the yells brought him back to reality and he searched up until he found a man he recognized all too well, and attached at the hunter’s hand was Raphael.

The snapper looked almost terrifying— if Splinter didn't recognize the creature as his own son, he would have been petrified beyond all sense. Raphael’s eyes were glossed over white, a look that Splinter had seen on his sons many times before, but never had it seemed so intimidating. Even though Raphael was taller than Splinter, the turtle wasn’t very large, especially compared to the above-average sized hunter, but at that moment Raphael seemed the biggest in the room.

Raphael’s mouth had locked around the doctor’s wrist and hung on, even as he was struck repeatedly on the head with every blunt object within the doctor's reach. Each hit only seemed to make him angrier, making him thrash his head even harder and dig his teeth even deeper. Blood was seeping out— so much blood. Splinter could never get over just how much blood was in a human body, even after witnessing his own blood pooling out of him time and time again. The blood stained Raphael red and flooded both into his mouth and onto the floor in a puddle that pooled around Splinter and the hunter’s feet, but Raphael held strong.

Splinter gave a furious cry as he launched himself at the hunter, striking his claws against the man’s face and aiming for the eyes, though he just barely missed. The hunter stumbled, trying to strike Splinter with the same hand that Raphael was locked onto, but only succeeded in falling into his cart. His own equipment rained down on him, scalpels and needles piercing into him and other tools crashing down around him. Raphael let go when a hammer hit his head, giving a furious yowl that was almost gator-like as he pulled back to Splinter’s side.

Splinter couldn’t move when he saw the state of Raphael. The turtle was painted red, his mouth hanging open and spilling fresh blood, but from where Splinter couldn’t tell. Not until he saw the absence of the snag tooth and the hole that was left in its place as it had been forcefully extracted. Raphael gave another yell and tried to lunge at the human, but Splinter caught him around the shell and held him firm. Raphael made no attempt to attack his father but made every attempt to try to escape and return to his brutal mauling.

Splinter whipped his tail hard against the hunter's head, stopping the screaming and making the human slump to the floor unconscious. Splinter fell to his knees, cradling his son against his chest and stomach while wrapping his arms tight around the snapper to hold him still. Raphael thrashed and squirmed like a furious beast trying to get free, but Splinter stayed still. He held Raphael there for thirty minutes on his count before the fighting stopped and Raphael went limp in his father's arms, anger turning to pain and fear as his growling turned to tears. He wrapped his arms around Splinter’s to cry into the rat’s fur.

“It is alright…” Splinter closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at son nor the state of the hunter. He wasn’t so sure he could hear the hunter breathing anymore but he tried not to think of it. “I’m here…”

“You weren’t…” Raphael’s voice was slurred with the extraction of his snag tooth, his eyes still white.

“I’m here, my son, I’m…”

Raphael gave a final, curdling cry down the tunnels before he was still, his head hanging. “Raph… alone…”

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imaginebnhaomegaverse · 4 years

Text

All good! But aww, that sounds adorable! I’m on it!

Alpha! Kitsune! Bakugo Katsuki x Omega! Kitsune! Gender-neutral! Reader

The humans thought that they were the strongest beings in the world.

Countless rituals, offerings, incense and fruit were offered for their protection as the humans prayed to them for safety. Some say that if you leave bells in front of two burning sticks of incense, no harm will come to you.

Jingle jingle!

Some say that they’ve heard the jingling of bells deep in the forest. A few children have seen two foxes lazing at the temple in front of the stone figures of the two gods.

Jingle jingle!

“[Name], what are you doing?” Katsuki asked, his index finger coated in a deep red liquid. [Name], who was on their knees by the temple offerings, giggled.

Katsuki sighed as they lifted up a pair of small bells that were tied together with a red ribbon.

“Look, Suki!” Katsuki’s ears twitched at the affectionate nickname, red blossoming in his cheeks. “Bells!”

“We already have many bells back home.” He grumbled, ducking his head as he entered the shrine that housed both his and his partner’s statues. He applied the red paste over their stone foreheads, covering the half-dried red that was already on them. “And don’t call me that! It’s a dumb name that the humans came up with.”

“Aww, but that name means ‘to love’, which is so cute!” [Name] huffed. Their large, fluffy white tail wagged behind them. “The humans come up with such adorable names!”

“It’s not adorable, it’s stupid!” Katsuki snapped, wiping his finger on the wall to rid himself of the paint.

“Su-ki~!” [Name] teased. “Suki, Suuuukiiii!”

They laughed as an apple came hurtling at them, dodging the fruit as they dashed behind a tree. Katsuki’s ears were flat against his skull with embarrassment.

[Name] peeked from behind the tree, squealing as an orange barely missed their face.

“You nearly ruined my cute face!” They whined. Katsuki scoffed, grumbling to himself as he examined a basket of fruits that were set as offerings. “How could you do this to me?”

“Keep whining.” He moved away as [Name] approached him, ignoring them as he turned a plum over in his hand. He rolled his eyes as his arm was hugged, cheeks growing pink as [Name] peered at him with a large pout.

“You could have hurt my poor cute face!” They sighed dramatically. Katsuki squeezed their cheeks, snorting as the god stuck their tongue out.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re adorable.” [Name] let go of his arm with a smug grin, happy that they finally cracked their lover’s tough shell.

Well, he isn’t the god of love and luck for nothing. He could even make the god of destruction and calamity fall for his words.

“It’s more like you fell for me, idiot.” [Name] was broken out of their thoughts at Katsuki’s voice. “Is your memory that awful?”

“Oops, I shouldn’t talk out loud.” [Name] giggled nervously, then pouted. “Hey, that was aeons ago! Can’t blame a god if they can’t remember.”

“Whatever you say.” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“Besides, you were the one to comment on my scent first.” [Name] said. “And you were the one who courted me too! I didn’t even have to hint at it.”

“Well, I had to say that our feelings were mutual since you basically fell over your words and actions every time I came into the room,” Katsuki smirked smugly. “You’re the god of love. Your emotions are written on your face as clear as day.”

“You’re so mean to meeee!” [Name] cried dramatically.

A few minutes later, the couple were on their way home. The bells around [Name}’s neck jingled with every step, and even Katsuki seemed to relax at the somewhat soothing sound.

“Suki, what’s for lunch?” [Name] asked, stopping to pluck a red camellia. They held it up to Katsuki, who shifted the basket of fruits to his hip so he could take it.

“Rice and oyakodon.” Katsuki replied, fixing the flower behind his mate’s ear. “You’re not going to get any because you keep calling me that stupid name.”

“Aah, not fair!” [Name] gasped. “I won’t call you that anymore then! I’m so hungry, I really want your legendary oyakodon!”

Katsuki was too busy admiring his [Name] to pay any attention. They looked so adorable, pouting up at Katsuki with that flower on their head.

“Katsuki, will I get any lunch? Hellooo-o?” [Name] waved a hand in front of their mate’s face. Katsuki snapped out of it, grunting a yes.

“Yay~! Oy-a-ko-don! Oy-a-ko-don!” [Name] skipped on ahead, singing loudly. Katsuki followed their sweet omega scent, eyes lidded as his tail swished happily behind him.

[Name] was already inside when Katsuki reached their shared home; a lovely, decent sized cottage in the middle of the forest. There was a large garden next to the house, where Katsuki went to pluck some vegetables for lunch.

“-are, yes you are!” The happy chirping of a fox accompanied with [Name]’s adoring voice echoed through the house as Katsuki stepped inside. He made his way to the kitchen, struggling to hide an affectionate grin as he saw his mate fussing over two excited foxes. Their elated omega scent was floating thickly through the house, and Katsuki had no complaints.

“You two better leave before lunch is ready.” He called. The two foxes whined and barked at him. “Don’t fucking sass me. You’re going to get fat if you eat so much. You just had breakfast.”

“D’aww, don’t be mean to them!” [Name] whined. The foxes busied themselves in trying to climb into their lap. “They just wanna play!”

“They just want food.” Katsuki deadpanned. “Now come here.”

“Oh! Am I helping you cook?” [Name] asked, looking elated with their ears perked up high.

“You’re going to throw these into the compost.” Katsuki gestured to the small pile of tomato, carrot and other veggie bits that were left over after he chopped them up.

He felt a little bad as [Name]’s ears lowered.

“You can help me cook tonight.” He said nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way they perked up happily again.

“Okay!” [Name] chirped. Katsuki went red as they pressed a kiss to his cheek, exclaiming a “love you!” as they raced away with the vegetable waste.

“Idiot,” Katsuki muttered with a soft smile.

After thirty minutes or so, the food was ready. [Name] licked their lips eagerly as Katsuki scooped a decent amount of oyakodon over their bowl of rice. After waiting for their mate to sit down and scoop food into his bowl too, [Name] picked up the chopsticks.

Katsuki watched closely as his omega took their first bite, smirking victoriously as [Name] released a moan of ecstasy as the meal touched their tastebuds.

“This is soooo good!” They said through a full mouth. “I love you and your food so much!”

“Heh.” Katsuki chuckled, cheeks flushing a little. “If you think this is good, wait until dinner.”

“I cannot wait.” [Name] smiled sincerely. Their heart leapt as their mate shot them a small grin back.

After lunch, Katsuki was washing up. [Name] had insisted on doing it, but their mate had refused.

[Name] collapsed on the hammock behind their home, a content sigh leaving their lips as the afternoon sun disappeared behind a few fluffy white clouds. They absentmindedly rubbed the bond mark on their neck, humming as their eyelids dropped shut.

Leaves crunched as feet trampled over them. [Name] giggled quietly as a rough but familiar hand brushed over their mark.

“Move over,” Katsuki said gruffly. [Name] complied happily, the hammock rocking as their mate climbed on.

The two struggled to find a comfy position, Katsuki giving up after a few minutes.

“Well, hello.” [Name] laughed bashfully as their nose brushed against Katsuki’s. They were basically on top of their mate, arms shaking as they tried to hold themselves up so they don’t crash into their alpha.

Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“Come here, dumbass.” He snorted, knocking [Name]’s arms out from under them so they could fall onto him. Katsuki capture’s his mate’s lips, humming in content as they melted into him.

“Alpha~!” [Name] laughed as Katsuki peppered kisses all over their face. “My turn!”

Katsuki sighed as his lover kissed along his jaw, giggling occasionally as his arms brushed against their ribs.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Katsuki breathed as [Name] lifted their head up. The sun peeked out of the clouds, casting a halo of light over them. “Fucking hell, [Name].”

[Name] grinned, cheeks flushed. Katsuki’s fingers rubbed one of their soft, white fox ears, smirking to himself as his mate basically fell into his chest, releasing happy giggles. Their scent was strong, and Katsuki fucking loved it.

[Name] stuffed their nose into the crook of his neck, nibbling at his scent glands. Katsuki pushed his head back to give them more access.

“Hey, [Name]?” He asked quietly, seemingly embarrassed.

“Yeah?” [Name] asked quizzically. “What is it?”

“You know the name you call me?” He asked hesitantly. “Can you...”

“What name?” [Name] was confused. Katsuki huffed, face red as he looked away.

“You know, the stupid fucking name you always call me that drives me insane?” He prompted. [Name] tilted their head.

“Umm... alpha?” They tried. Katsuki shook his head. “Katsuki?”

“That’s my name, dumbass.” He snapped. [Name] apologised with a laugh.

“What other name...” [Name] trailed off. Katsuki seemed to go redder.

“You know...” He grumbled. “The stupid human one...?”

“Oh.” [Name] said. “Oh!”

Katsuki’s ears flattened as his mate laughed loudly.

“Shut up, idiot!” He hollered. [Name] didn’t listen.

“You like the name!” They gasped, delighted. “You like me calling you Suki!”

“Fuck off!” Katsuki glowered. “I’ll upturn this hammock!”

“Suki! Suki! Suki, Suki, Su-ki~!” [Name] teased, then yelled in alarm as their whole world went upside down as they and Katsuki tumbled out of the hammock. “Owww!”

“Told you that I would do it, didn’t I?” Katsuki said too smugly, already getting to his feet.

“I guess you did, Suki.” [Name] giggled, then spluttered as they got a mouthful of grass and leaves kicked at their face. “Hey!”

#abo #mha #bnha #bakugo katsuki #alpha bakugo #omega s/o #gender neutral s/o #request #kitsune bakugo #kitsune s/o #god s/o #god bakugo #fluff #i tried

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 4

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Emily’s alarm wakes JJ up.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Jennifer Jareau awoke in her bed to the sound of her alarm. She groaned as her body refused to cooperate, with the fog of sleep clouding her brain and the desire to just roll over and sleep in sounding very appealing.

It was such a late night last night with Emily and JJ had already set her alarm to nine thirty, giving her less time in the morning to get to her eleven am class than she would normally like. JJ liked eating breakfast, and with being an athlete, her body needed as much fuel as she could get.

She rolled over, slamming her hand onto her phone, attempting to turn off the beeping. It wasn’t working, forcing JJ to open her eyes against the sunlight. She grabbed her phone, unplugged it, and stared at the blank screen before realizing that it was only eight and her alarm wasn’t set for another hour.

JJ frowned, realizing that what she was hearing wasn’t her alarm, nor was it Penelope Garcia’s—her roommate who had a cheery jingle as an alarm—either. It must be coming from another room.

She looked over to the other side of the room where Penelope was sleeping peacefully, on her side with her chest slowing rising and falling. Lucky, JJ thought. Penelope, unlike JJ, hadn’t been rudely awoken by someone else’s alarm.

JJ pulled her pillow over her head, rolled over, and tried to fall back asleep. She was desperate to catch that extra hour of sleep.

She sighed, tried to relax and fall back into her slumber, but the blaring sound continued, and continued, without fail. Whoever was responsible for that god-awful noise apparently was not waking up.

JJ sat up, tossing her pillow aside. Quietly, despite her frustration, she threw back her comforter and blanket, slipped into her fuzzy slippers and walked to their door, peering into the hall.

She was wearing her pink pj bottoms and a grey cotton t-shirt from a soccer camp she went to in high school, and the cool air after the warmth of her bed made her shiver. Their dorm was either too hot, or too cold most days, never really reaching a comfortable living temperature.

Looking left and right, JJ tried to narrow down the sound of the incessant alarm. She held her breath for a moment, listening hard.

The beeping was coming from straight ahead. She looked at the door, staring it down, begging the other girl to simply wake up, turn off her alarm, and continue with her day.

That did not happen.

JJ slipped back into her room and grabbed her lanyard, to avoid getting locked out of her room with the annoying automatically locking doors.

She closed her own door quietly, as much as she was mad at Garcia for managing to sleep through the noise, she didn’t really want to bother her. JJ started with knocking lightly on the other girls door, rapping on the wooden door right next to the construction paper sea turtle that their RA had written Emily’s name tag on.

“Emily,” JJ said quietly, “Your alarm is going off.”

JJ checked her watch. Eight ten. Emily’s midterm for Clinical Psychology was at eight-thirty. She knocked louder.

No response.

She must be a very heavy sleeper.

JJ knocked louder, scared she would wake up the whole floor, but more worried about Emily’s education than disturbing them. Their walls were thin, but the fact that Emily could sleep through an alarm that could wake JJ up, across the hall, and sleep through JJ’s knocks, was borderline concerning.

After a few minutes of near-panicked knocking, she finally heard movement in the other room, with a muffled “Whaa-” coming from Emily.

She opened the door, rubbing her eyes and holding her phone.

“Your alarm was going off,” JJ said, sheepishly as she took in the taller girl staring at her in complete confusion. “And you have a midterm.”

Emily looked down to the phone in her hand, looking at the time and said, simply: “Shit,” before spinning back around.

“You have twenty minutes,” JJ pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Yes I very much do,” Emily replied, “And it’s in the psych building which is on the exact opposite side of campus. Dammit, the alarm must have been going off for a half hour. I have no idea how I slept through it.”

JJ, unsure at the protocol of what was happening, stood in the open doorway. She found herself somewhat overwhelmed at the sight of Emily. Instead of the t-shirt and pj pants that JJ had seen on her before, Emily was instead wearing a delicate, semi-transparent cotton camisole and silky looking shorts that were quite short and showed off most of Emily’s long legs. Her skin was pale, and even, without any freckles or scars marring the porcelain-like limbs. JJ, on the other hand, knew her tanned skin revealed the scars from the endless cuts and scrapes she’d acquired being a sporty child.

What caught her eye most was something poking through the fabric of the thin camisole. JJ blushed as she realized that Emily had her nipples pierced.

Emily’s ensemble showed off much more of Emily’s body than JJ had ever seen before, but it wasn’t the body that shocked her (Jennifer Jareau played sports her whole life, she wasn’t shy about nudity), what shocked her was the fact that she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away.

JJ had planned to wake up whoever was disturbing her with their alarm, then immediately go back to bed, but now she felt as if her feet were glued to the floor.

With her hands grasping her keys, clutching them tightly, JJ stared at her friend as Emily dug through her chest of drawers and stormed around the room in a frenzy.

She was not simply staring, JJ realized to her own personal confusion, she was ogling her. Emily’s typically perfectly straight black hair was wavy and messy, mussed by sleep and her bare face had a classic beauty that made something tighten in JJ’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Emily muttered, throwing a pair of sweat pants over her shorts, not really having any time to get dressed. “Thank you for waking me JJ.”

This roused JJ from her thoughts, forcing her to come to terms that she was checking her friend out. She felt her face warm in a blush, and stared at the floor so she would no longer be looking at Emily like that.

��We use the same alarm,” JJ said, dumbly. “I thought it was mine.”

She gulped, watching Emily yank a hoodie over her head, and smooth her hair down with her fingers. Emily yawned, letting out a cute noise that made JJ smile.

“Well,” Emily replies, smiling at her sweetly, “I would have fully slept through this midterm if it wasn’t for you. You saved my life. Merci.”

Emily grabbed her backpack which was hanging off the back of her chair, and slings it over her shoulder. From atop her dresser, Emily picked up a red apple, rubbing it off on her shirt in lieu of washing it.

“Thank you again,” Emily says, pulling her into a quick hug. JJ found herself engulfed in Emily’s warm arms, the smell of orchids and coffee, for a short, amazing moment, before Emily pulled back.

Emily shut her door, took a bite of her apple with a wink at JJ, then ran down the hall on her way to her class.

JJ stepped back, left behind standing in the centre of the hall, alone with her thoughts. She remained there for a moment, processing the mixed bag of emotions.

She turned back around, unlocked her door, then sat back onto her bed. It was still warm from her body, and beckoned for her to return to its warm embrace. JJ, on the other hand, was still reeling from another embrace, that of her friend and neighbour.

Her friend, she reminded herself. They were friends.

JJ stared into the distance, breathing deeply and trying to process her racing thoughts. Her break up was fresh in her mind. She was still reeling from her break up, was overtired, and had just spent the entire evening with Emily listening to her speak to her in the literal language of love, no wonder why her brain was all mixed up.

JJ shook her head and laid back down, staring at the ceiling. She put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes.

Instead of her normal anxious thoughts about her midterms, her upcoming game and the end of her almost two year long relationship, her brain flashed to Emily. How patient she was last night explaining all the possible conjugations of the verbs, how she told her funny stories about her childhood in France, how she tried to catch the M&Ms in her mouth, and missed every time.

Emily could speak French fluently, and it was probably one of the most attractive things that JJ had ever experienced. She rolled her r’s so perfectly, and spoke with a clarity that she struggled to find in her professor’s strange accent.

JJ rolled onto her side, tugging the blanket around her, lost in thought. Emily was so nice, JJ really liked her. She liked her as a friend, right? That’s what this was?

She thought about Emily, who bakes cookies in the middle of the night, who gets way too into beer pong and who smiles wide every time she saw JJ and held her hand tightly as they walked home last night.

Did JJ like Emily? Like-like her? She didn’t know. She doesn’t like girls. She hadn’t really liked that many people before. She dated Will for two years, two nice, normal, comfortable years where she didn’t have to think about these things, about crushes or feelings.

She was always a very focused child, focused on school and on soccer and on getting to college. It was Will who pursued her, who was the first to text, who invited her places and encouraged her to be present. JJ was always reacting to the boy's affection, every time.

Her mom had The Talk with her when she was thirteen, which was awkward and tense, but instead of the typical discussion about the birds and the bees, her mom talked about love and consent and JJ’s future partner . At the time, JJ thought her mom was being silly because JJ liked boys;, she had crushes on boys like all the other girls in her grade. She always would pick the nicest one, and select him as her crush when the other girls would ask. But now, looking back, maybe JJ’s mom saw something JJ hadn’t seen herself.

No. That couldn’t be.

Jennifer, she scolded herself, don’t go down the rabbit hole. You just went through a messy break up. You’re confused is all.

It was true, just yesterday JJ fought with Will and it ended in, well, an ending of their relationship. Over the phone. He told her that he needed more from her, from them, and JJ told him that she was giving all she had. That was not enough for him.

She hadn’t even had that much time to think about it, and him, let alone tell her friends and family that it had happened.

She had hung up the phone and immediately had to go to a class. Before she knew it she was in a study room with Emily Prentiss forgetting all about her break up.

Her mind flashed to the girl in her class who had come out in eighth grade, how after she had, the other girls had told JJ to make sure she had turned around so the girl wouldn’t look at her inappropriately. JJ had protested at the time, arguing that the girl probably didn’t even find them attractive anyway, but that hadn’t convinced the others. They had shunned the girl for the rest of the semester.

JJ remembered feeling a bit sick at the thought of being that other girl, who’s identity had been shamed by her peers. She went home that day and cried in sympathy. She didn’t know why she did.

After that she, on a private browser, looked up the acronym: LGBT. She discovered the term ally, and decided that that was what she was. She had cried because she supports people who are gay, or bi, or transgender, not because she likes girls. She was always told that she was a sensitive child, she cried because she was empathetic.

She had been confused about her feelings before, and had sorted them out. She could do that again easily. She didn’t like Emily that way. She was simply grateful for her company, for her friendship. She was a nice new friend, and JJ was just over excited as she got to know the girl across the hall.

JJ sighed. That made sense to her. She was a tangled mess of feelings and she needed some time to untangle them.

With that resolved, JJ tried to close her eyes and catch a few minutes of sleep but before she even closed her eyes, her alarm woke her up. Her real one.

She groaned.

To her right, Penelope woke up to the sound, yawning and rolling over at the sound.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Penelope murmured with a sleepy smile. “Late night last night?”

Penelope was probably her best friend at university, and her roommate. They were randomly placed together last year and had immediately become best friends. She was studying computer science, which was surprising because from what JJ could tell, Penelope could hack the FBI if she felt like it. She wasn't sure what else there was to study. Her side of the room was decorated in an explosion of colour, with endless trinkets on all of the available surfaces, and her walls covered in a rainbow of art, photos and miscellaneous ticket stubs and various moments of her life.

“Yeah,” JJ replied, sitting up in her bed and resigning herself to being awake. “I have that French midterm today.”

“Then the game!” she interjected, “I know! Spence and I will be there waving the flag.”

JJ smiled, grateful for her roommates' endless support.

“We should do trivia again this week,” Penelope says, “Reid is basically an encyclopedia and I think if we bring him we’ll win hands-down.”

JJ hummed in response, not really paying attention.

“I mean,” Penelope continued, “It’s probably unfair to drag a boy with an eidetic memory to a trivia game but I think it’ll be worth it.”

JJ was focusing on getting dressed, but tried to give her roommate enough reassuring nods to make sure she was active listening. She had to dress for her exam, then for her game so she chose track pants and her school windbreaker.

“Jayje, where’s your head at?” Penelope said and JJ frowned, she could read her like a book and could tell something was wrong. “You’re never this quiet. Is it about Will? We never really got to talk about what happened.”

JJ didn’t have the time to explain her tangled web of emotions.

“I’m fine Pen,” JJ assured her, “Just tired and worried about this midterm.”

“Okay,” she said, still looking worried, “You know I’m here.”

“I know.”

“Go get ‘em tiger!” Penelope grinned at her, “Just remember: voulez-vous coucher avec moi? That’s all you’ll need to know!”

JJ cracked a smile and wished Penelope a good morning, grabbed her bag before leaving. She waved goodbye and headed out into the morning, trying to shake her thoughts of Emily Prentiss away.

She had enough time to grab coffee and breakfast from the cafe before heading to her class a few minutes early so that she could look over her notes.

Forgetting Emily was hard when she was taking her French midterm, as the conjunction was coming to her, pronounced in Emily’s voice and explained in her clear, knowledgeable voice.

JJ sped through the midterm, a strange feeling tugging at her stomach as her focus was pulled two ways. One part of her, the one focused on the test, pictured Emily in front of her, her bangs getting in her face, her eyeliner drawn over her lid thickly coming to a sharp point on either side of her eyes, imagining her lips as she mouthed the words out to her. The other part of JJ, terrified of these thoughts and feelings, pushed her out of her mind, trying to compartmentalize the knowledge from the person.

Then her brain was filled with Will: of his kind smile, of how he hugged her tight and kissed her softly. Her brain desperately wanted to hang onto some sort of normal feeling of loss at the end of her relationship, but the majority of her feelings were unsatisfying and confusing.

The verb endings blurred together, and as she looked over her work before submitting, she found herself making stupid mistakes. JJ was in the middle of erasing an answer when her Professor called out to announce that time was up.

JJ walked out of the midterm frustrated. She was sure she did fine on it but was mad at herself for being distracted by her own personal issues.

She cursed Will for breaking up with her in midterm season, because she couldn’t focus on anything. She knew she was being distant, she knew it was her fault they were over, but the timing was overwhelming. Her status quo was crumbling and she was not quite sure how to keep the pieces together.

It’s over Jennifer, she said to herself, you finished your midterm. Time to focus on soccer and you’ll feel better.

That afternoon, JJ played an aggressive game, forcing her feelings out in her gameplay, running faster, tackling harder and hogging the ball more than she typically would.

She fought hard for the ball, barrelling towards the net, and setting up a perfect goal for her teammate. Who missed. It took JJ everything to not yell at her teammate, because she did not want to be red carded at a home game.

Next time she was on, instead of passing, she made sure she set herself up for a goal, charging past her opponents. She kicked. She scored. The roar of the crowd, the feeling of her team jumping upon her felt great.

In the stands, Penelope Garcia and Spencer Reid jumped high, cheering for their friend.

The adrenaline of the game wiped away the feelings of the day and JJ felt better. She felt normal. She could deal.

JJ could be happily single. She didn’t need Will and she certainly didn’t need to be distracted by anything right now anyways. She still had three midterms to go, then an away game next weekend.

After that, JJ could worry about her feelings. Until then, she had more important things to do.

In the locker room, JJ dried off, still buzzing with the win.

“Hey Jennifer,” a voice asked, coming up behind her. It was Kennedy. “Are you ok?”

Kennedy was a nice girl, in third year, who played defence. She was probably JJ’s closest friend on the team but outside of games, practise, and the occasional mandatory team social, JJ and she didn’t really talk.

“I’m fine,” JJ replied, stuffing her uniform into her locker. “Why do you ask?”

“You played a hard game,” Kennedy says, “I was impressed. You brought the heat.”

“So what’s the problem?” JJ says, hearing the terseness in her voice.

“Woah,” she says, stepping back and raising her hands in surrender, “Is something wrong? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’m fine,” JJ says, slamming her locker harder than she meant to.

She walked out of the locker room, feeling slightly embarrassed at her outburst. It had started to rain again, the cold, sharp droplets hitting her face and soaking her hoodie. Making a mental note to apologize to Kennedy later, JJ walked straight home to her dorm with tears stinging at her eyes.

As soon as her door closed, JJ jumped onto her bed, laying with her pillow on her head to block out the afternoon sun, as tears leaked out of the sides of her eyes. Letting go, JJ cried. She cried for the end of her relationship, for the fact that it was her fault for it ending, for the fact that she didn’t feel sad about the end of her relationship and because she didn’t know what to think about Emily.

---

That week, everywhere she turned, Emily Prentiss was there.

For a girl that she never seemed to run into at the beginning of the semester, Emily seemed to make up for that with this week.

First thing the next morning, JJ walked into the bathroom with bleary eyes. She hadn’t slept well and had trudged through her morning routine. As she put some toothpaste onto her toothbrush, the door swung open and Emily wandered in, with her own toiletries in hand, wearing only a robe. JJ found herself brushing her teeth harder, not making eye contact and focusing on her own reflection in the mirror. JJ stared herself down, not allowing her eyes to stray or herself to think about the naked Emily Prentiss behind the curtain. JJ didn’t want to see her. JJ was straight, and that would be silly. She did not want to think about that girls god damned nipple piercings, or the fact that they made her blush to think about.

On Tuesday night, JJ looked out of her window into the courtyard, only to see Emily Prentiss, smoking a cigarette near the streetlamp. JJ closed her curtains. She had to study for her midterms.

Coming home from class on Wednesday, Emily had her door propped open as she read a book, with some music playing off her record player. JJ pretended she was in a rush to get somewhere, grabbing a random book out of her room before leaving for the library. She realized after that she needed a different book for her essay, but it was too late after she had rushed down the hall to go back.

Leaving her Media Studies midterm on Thursday, she passed Emily in the hall on her way back from practise. Emily touched her arm as they crossed paths and asked her, in her sweet voice, if JJ needed any more help on her French homework. JJ hurriedly said that she didn’t, and that she would text her if she did. Pointing out that JJ didn’t have Emily’s number, she then insisted that JJ add her as a contact. She did not text Emily.

That weekend, JJ relished how an away game took her off campus, and away from her issues. All JJ had to focus on was soccer.

Except, news had finally gotten to her mother about Will. JJ spent most of the weekend fending off phone calls and from her concerned mother, who wanted to be there for her. JJ felt incredibly guilty avoiding her calls, because her mom had loved Will.

As soon as JJ was back in her room, she was forced to finally return her mom's call, as she had run out of excuses. It was a long coversation. After hanging up, JJ laid on her bed, exhausted by her mother's distress. It felt like her mom was going to miss Will more than she would. JJ had assured her that she was fine, that she would call again soon, and, yes, she would like a care package, because that would mean she’d get a box of snacks, including Cheetos, which she was desperately craving.

After a few minutes of laying on her bed, with her packed bags still on the floor next to her, and still wearing her school branded windbreaker, there was a knock on her door.

She ignored it. She was sick of people being worried about her. Sick of everyone asking her if she was ok.

The person knocked again, more insistently.

JJ rolled onto her side, looking at her wall. There was her ex-boyfriend, on the wall in her once treasured prom photo, looking at her. She tore the photo down.

Her eyes wandered up to her other photos taped to the wall: her and her sister at Christmas when she was eight. JJ was holding up her new shadow box containing a blue butterfly (morpho menelaus) and standing next to her was her sister Rosaline, grinning wide and hugging her tight.

She wanted to ask Ros what was going on with her. Why she felt so untethered. Why she felt relieved that her boyfriend broke up with her. Why she simultaneously wanted to run towards and away from Emily Prentiss.

But, she could not ask her any of these questions. She tugged at her sister’s necklace, which was around her neck, resting over her heart, as always. Hoping for some kind of direction.

There was another knock on her door.

JJ opened it, finding the meek face of Spencer Reid on the other side. He waved awkwardly, and did not seem to notice her disheveled state.

“Garcia said that we could eat without her,” he said, “She’s in a lab this evening and is ordering pizza.”

Dinner. The trio always ate together when JJ was in town.

“I’m starving,” JJ admitted, realizing that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and her stomach flipped in protest.

JJ opened the door for him and turned back to the mirror. Reid sat down on the edge of Penelope’s bed. Of all the people on the other side of the door, he was probably the only one who wouldn't force her to talk about her feelings if she didn't want to.

“How was your game?” he asked politely.

JJ made a noncommittal noise.

“You know,” he continued without a pause, “Around two hundred countries or territories in the world play soccer, depending on what you consider a country, as the UN only recognizes two hundred and fifty one countries and territories while the US recognizes less than two hundred. You could play this game with more people than you could speak to in English.”

JJ ran a brush through her hair, hoping to make herself look presentable for the cafeteria. Spencer continued, barely coming up for air let alone wait for her response. Normally, JJ would fight to get a word in edgewise, but today, Spencer’s monologue was soothing her.

The rain had slowed to a slightly annoying drip, with dull clouds hanging low onto campus.

Together, they walked down the street to the cafeteria, which was in a dull concrete building near most of the residences. Spencer transitioned from discussing the impact of sports on global diplomacy, to talking about his day and chatting about how he has started hanging out with Derek Morgan more often.

JJ blinked at that, trying not to let her thoughts wander from Derek to Emily and her current turmoil.

Her minor reaction unheeded, Spencer discussed how Derek discovered that he could lift him, and had bench pressed him. Spencer, despite admitting that he was nervous around football players like Derek, given his rough time in high school, smiled as he told her this. She forced herself to be present, to engage with her friend, which was a welcome distraction.

Grabbing their trays, they both wandered around the buffet style cafeteria, peeking at the specials and deciding their preference. JJ steered past the vegetarian option, which was simply three pieces of tofu on some plain rice, and walked up to the burger bar. Comfort food was the plan. Reid, walking in her wake, joined her in her dinner choice. Soon, the two of them were eating burgers in companionable silence, both tackling mediocre, yet somewhat tasty meals. JJ sipped her water and felt Reid’s eyes on hers.

“You seem distracted,” he comments.

JJ looks down into her water.

“Penelope told me about Will,” he says, nervously, “I’m sorry?”

It comes out as a question.

“Look. I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m fine.”

I’m fine, she thought to herself, I’ve said that a lot today.

JJ softens, reminding herself that the boy only wants to help. She reaches her hand out and grabs his.

“Thank you for asking,” she smiles at him.

He perks up. She looked at him and while he was only three or so years younger, he looked so young. He was taller than her but still likely to keep growing, his gangly limbs awkward still in his adolescence. Still, he dressed like a professor, his outfits filled with cardigans and tweed.

They stood and made their way back to residence. JJ was starting to feel like herself again.

But, about thirty feet ahead of her was Emily Prentiss, fumbling with her keys as she tried to unlock the door to their building. It was really hard to push someone out of your mind when they lived across the hall.

Spencer noticed her hesitation.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” he asked.

JJ nodded, relieved at the offer. They turned to the right, and walked down the steps that lead to the lower part of campus, towards the nice graduate residences and the park. JJ stuck her hands deep into her jacket pockets, the fresh air making her feel a bit better.

“Will broke up with me,” she says to Spencer, not looking at him as she spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, following suit.

“I’m…. not,” she admitted.

She found that in the cool, fall air, the words flowed out and after she started, it didn’t seem to stop.

“I’m not and I should be. I should be crying about my breakup, eating chocolate and watching shitty romcoms with Penelope. I should be calling my mom and getting advice about my heartbreak. I should be getting drunk and trying to rebound. For some reason, I’m just… angry.”

She stood, raising her arms into the air.

“I feel embarrassed that he was the one who broke up with me when I didn’t even like him that much.”

She sighed. He looked at her with wide eyes, listening intently without any judgment, or reservations. He wasn’t pushing her to share, or judging her for her words.

“And I think I like someone else.”

JJ did not mean to say that. She looked back over at Spencer, who didn’t look particularly surprised.

“Emily?” he guessed.

JJ fell silent. She did. She liked Emily. She spent the week running from that, and it had been staring her in the face the whole time. She nodded.

“That’s great!” he replied with a smile. “I think you would be really good together.”

JJ was struck with this. She wasn’t expecting the homophobia she remembered from high school, but she was not expecting this.

“We would?” She found herself smiling as she said this.

“Yeah, I think she likes you too.”

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #jemily fanfiction #WOOO chapter 4!!!!!#enjoy #tell me what u guys think #sorry its late i struggled #the fic is almost 20k now!!!

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prettyboyoongs · 4 years

Text

Waking Them Up | BTS

Yoongi:

He had stayed up pretty late the night before, but the two of you had things planned pretty early this morning so he had to get up whether he liked it or not.

Yoongi was a difficult person to wake up no matter how much sleep he got during the night, that’s just how he was. But over time, you found a pretty consistent way of getting him up and out of bed.

Yoongi didn’t cuddle much when he was awake, but when he was asleep, you weren’t going anywhere. The two of you were able to sleep in various positions together, but this morning you found your fiancé laying completely on top of your body with his arms and legs wrapped around you and his rosy cheek pressed against your breast. You smiled warmly at him, leaning your head down to press a kiss to his bedhead. “Baby.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair for a few moments.

He didn’t stir.

You retracted your hand from his hair and let it fall onto his back, rubbing soft circles through the fabric of his FG shirt. He mewled a little before turning his head, his opposite cheek going to rest on your boob— the coldness of his flesh making you flinch slightly. “Come on, honey. We have to get up.”

He whined at your words, digging his face closer into your body while tightening his grip around you. Your hands gripped at the end of his T-Shirt, lifting it up and resting it onto his back muscles, revealing the majority of his back. He groaned at the cold air that hit his skin, making you shush him and kiss his ear. Your fingertips traveled lightly along his skin, softly tickling and tracing before you pushed harder, massaging gently. “We have stuff to do today— remember?” You whispered.

Yoongi nodded into your chest, sighing in content as you rubbed and massaged his tense back. “You have got to slow down, Yoongs,” You sighed, feeling knots in his back every so often. “Your body can’t handle all of this at one time. You have to pace yourself; be careful with your body.”

At this, Yoongi lifted his head up and looked at you with puffy eyes and floppy bangs falling onto his forehead. “I’m okay,” He whispered, his voice raspy and deep. You only frowned, eyes closing when he began to lean in. His chapped lips covered yours in a chaste kiss, kissing the tip of your nose before laying his head back down onto your chest. “Thank you.”

Seokjin:

You had found Seokjin’s pancake recipe on a small envelope inside of one of the kitchen drawers, and you decided to try it. You usually woke Jin up with breakfast, but today you insisted on trying something he normally made himself.

It had been a struggle at first, but after a while, you got the hang of it.

After about an hour of cooking (which only took Jin twenty minutes), they were done. You added toast and a bowl of fruit for him before you were climbing up the stairs and trailing into the bedroom. You physically cooed at the sight of your boyfriend snuggled under the covers with RJ in his arms.

If he wasn’t holding you, he was holding RJ. But unfortunately, it was more RJ than you— which he claimed he just slept better with, making sure to give you a shit ton of cuddles and kisses when he saw how hurt he made you with that one simple statement. He had a lot of making up to do after he said that, but he fixed it and he was going to try to cuddle you more often.

You pushed his hair back from his face to reveal his forehead, which you couldn’t help but lean in and press a kiss to just at the sight alone. He whined at your actions, unwrapping an arm from RJ to wave a hand at you, telling you to go away and leave him alone. You giggled, placing his hair back down and fixing the strands for him.

“Good morning, handsome,” You whispered, placing the plate of food beside of him. The smell made him furrow his eyebrows and open one eye, the other squinted. “Made you pancakes. Wanna try them?” You asked with a soft voice, smiling when he nodded sleepily.

“Here, sit up,” You ordered gently, watching as he sat up slowly, resting his back against the headboard. You waited to place the plate onto his lap until he had stopped rubbing his eyes and placed his stuffed animal onto your spot of the bed beside him. “Here you go, baby.”

Seokjin thanked you quietly, giving you a small smile and nodding towards you. You waited to take a bite, wanting to see his reaction first. Once he put a piece into his mouth, he gasped and looked at you with wide eyes. “Is this my recipe?” He asked with a mouthful of food. You nodded proudly, cheeks red as you awaited his response. “Baby, this is fucking awful.”

Namjoon:

You shook your boyfriend, sighing in defeat when he continued to lay there dead asleep. You had done everything— everything you could think of to wake your boyfriend up. Now you only had one thing left to try.

You smirked, licking your lips and crawling down the bed. You pulled back the comforter, laughing to yourself when Namjoon shivered. You spread his legs apart slightly, laying yourself down inbetween them. Your hands rubbed at his bare stomach, peering up at him for a reaction. You pressed butterfly kisses along his happy trail, allowing them to go down further south when your fingers wrapped themselves around the top of his sweatpants.

Within moments, his pants and boxers were pooled at his ankles, revealing his member. You smiled to yourself upon seeing it— he had been so busy with work lately that the two of you hadn’t done anything intimate in months. This was the first time in three months since you had seen Namjoon’s dick. Butterflies erupted into your stomach and inbetween your legs, causing you to lick your lips.

You laid yourself down on your stomach, face first in between his legs. You took no time pushing your hot mouth onto his member— no kitten licks, hand movements, or any type of foreplay. You were too excited. You missed him and missed this— oh, and he did have to wake up..

It took about thirty seconds for Namjoon to realize it wasn’t just another wet dream, something he’s been having for weeks since neither of you have had sex in a while. He lifted his head and looked down to see you with his cock deep inside of your throat, your nose brushing against his pubic hair. “Y/N, s-s-shiiiit, what the fuck are y-you doing?”

“Waking you up.” You whispered against his tip, the vibrations rushing through his dick. He hissed when you jerked him quickly, your lips wrapped around just the tip, catching all of the precome that dripped out.

“Fuck, baby,” He moaned when you let go, pushing him far into your throat once more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He squeaked, reaching his hand down to push your hair away from your face and put it all into a makeshit ponytail into his fist.

He was coming within seconds, watching in sleepy admiration as you swallowed it all up. He smiled at you softly when you crawled up towards him, laying yourself onto his body, leaning into him for a chaste kiss. He pulled away and pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “Thank you, babygirl, that was very sweet of you. Now roll over, it’s your turn.”

[i am so soft uGH i miss my babie & his long hair </3] Jungkook:

You turned to your side to see your boyfriend curled into a ball, completely passed out, mouth open with occasional snores and drool on his pillow. Your heart swooned, and you couldn’t help smiling. You reached over and ran a hand through his mess of hair. He was growing it out and you absolutely loved it.

Jungkook mewled, moving in his sleep and leaning his head into your hand. “You gotta wake up, Kook.” You whispered softly, running your thumb along his forehead since he was laying on the rest of your hand. He whined at your words, and opened his arms with a pout.

You pulled your hand away from him and rolled over and into his arms, smiling when he pulled you against him as tightly as possible. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his chest, some of his skin peeking out from his pajama shirt. “You’re so cute.” You cooed, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

He peered down at you with half-closed lids, smiling at you softly. “Oh, hush,” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your hair and nuzzling his face into it. “Just let me hold you for a few minutes and then we’ll get up.”

Hoseok:

You woke up to the sound of your husband singing, only it was Ego blaring from your phone as your alarm. You turned it off with a small groan, looking to your left to see Hobi sleeping with his head turned to you, completely knocked out with your hand buried deep into his light brown locks.

This was how you woke up usually— with one of your hands in his hair. It was how you put him to sleep, and neither of you really moved at night, so you often woke up in a similar position. Sometimes, if you moved and took your hand away in the middle of the night, you’d wake up to sleepy Hoseok whining and grabbing your hand, forcing it back into his hair.

You smiled at the thought, finally retracting your hand from his fluffy bedhead. Hoseok stirred, furrowing his eyebrows and rolling over onto his side before falling back asleep. You sat up and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck before forcing yourself out of bed. You trudged towards the window, opening the blinds and looking over at Hoseok, who was groaning as the sun hit him straight in the face.

“Good morning, cutie.”

Taehyung:

You opened the bedroom door, allowing your two year old daughter to run in and climb onto the bed, jumping onto your sleeping husband. You watched with a large smile, rocking your newborn daughter back and forth in your arms in an attempt to keep her content. “Daddy!”

“Oof!” Taehyung groaned at the impact, making the little girl giggle. It didn’t take long for Tae to open his eyes completely, using his large hands to tickle his daughter, smiling proudly at her shrieks and small giggles. She managed to choke out a small ‘stop, stop, daddy! ‘m gonna pee in the new underwear mommy just put on me!’

Taehyung and you both let out loud laughs at her statement. Taehyung’s hands gripped at the little girl’s waist, lifting her up and laying her down beside him. He smiled, lifting his head up to fix his hair. He spotted you standing by the bed in the process, his heart stopping for a moment when he saw you and his other daughter. “Hey, there’s my girls.” He spoke softly, causing your oldest to gasp and fold her arms across her chest.

“What about me, daddy!?”

Taehyung laid his head back onto the pillow, looking straight at his daughter— signature boxy smile coming into view. “You’re my girl, too, princess,” He reassured, making her smile widely. “Now come here and give me a kiss.” He whined dramatically, sticking his lips out harshly. Your daughter giggled, leaning in and pecking his lips, earning a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t ever forget it.”

Jimin:

You stretched your arms out, reaching for your boyfriend sleepily. With no luck, you opened your eyes and looked beside you, seeing his spot empty and cold. You frowned and pulled the covers off of yourself, sneaking out of the bedroom in search for Jimin.

It was about five in the morning and neither of you had to be up for a few more hours, but you wanted to get in as much cuddling and sleeping with Chim as you could before you actually had to get up.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, slightly shivering as you tiptoed down the hallway. As soon as you turned into the living room, you saw him. You stopped and stared at him with a small smile, rushing towards him in a hurry; you were tired and cold and wanted to go back to bed (in his arms this time).

Your heart ached at the sight of him. His chubby cheeks even more puffy than usual, his long eyelashes laying beautifully on his cheeks, his mouth slightly open with an open book laying on his chest. He had fallen asleep reading for the third time in two weeks. He was so into this new writer lately that he could barely put his books down.

You softly pulled the book from his hand, folding the corner of the page so he would remember where he left off at. You placed the book on the coffee table and rubbed small circles onto his chest, heart swelling when it rose and fell with each breath he took. “Come on, babyboy. Let’s go to bed or else your back is going to hurt tomorrow.”

Jimin didn’t move, so out of it that it was difficult to wake him up. You sighed in defeat, your eyes burning with sleep. You leaned down and pressed your lips against his in a small kiss, continuing these actions until he started to stir. “Hmm?” He whined, pushing his lips up to meet yours sleepily. “What time is it?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes once you pulled away.

“Five fifteen,” You muttered, watching as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I went to reach out for you but you weren’t there. I’m so tired, Chim. Can we go to bed now, please?”

Jimin nodded sleepily and allowed you to grab his hands and help him stand, guiding him towards the dark bedroom. You fell into the soft mattress, dropping your head onto his chest once he was laying down as well. “Goodnight, my love.” He mumbled tiredly, his hand tiredly running through your hair. You pressed an acknowledging kiss to his jaw before falling back asleep once again, Jimin following suit not long after you.

#bts #imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #sleeping #tired #bts fluff #bts smut #namjoon smut #yoongi fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #jungkook fluff #seokjin fluff #hoseok fluff

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

Text

The Meet-Cute, Part One

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six...whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

Rating: T Words: 5.2k (first chapter)

On AO3

LOOK @optomisticgirl I WROTE THE THING.

Also, @ohmightydevviepuu, @shireness-says, and @distant-rose you are complicit in the writing of the thing.

PART ONE:

“What you need, Emma Swan, is a meet-cute.”

Emma swallowed a sigh but couldn’t hold back the accompanying eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I need.”

“No, hear me out,” Ruby insisted, her eyes alight with excitement. “This is actually perfect for you.”

Emma let the sigh go this time, reminding herself firmly that Ruby was her best friend and had been for years.

“All right,” she said. “Tell me why I need a meet-cute.”

“Yesssss,” said Ruby. “Okay, listen. There’s nobody at work you’re interested in dating, right?”

“My co-worker is literally my brother.”

“Yeah that’s kind of what I meant. Most people meet their future spouses at work—”

“That’s not a real statistic.”

“—but—yes, it is real—but there’s no one at work for you and that’s not likely to change, so you have to look elsewhere. Now, the next most common place to meet someone is where you live—

“Seriously, you’re just making this stuff up.”

“—but there’s no one for you there, either,” Ruby pressed on, ignoring her. “No cute guys across the hall—“

“No straight ones anyway.”

“—and seeing as you are for some strange reason dead-set against online dating—”

“I absolutely am.” Emma shuddered at the hideous thought.

“—which actually does work, by the way.”

“It doesn’t. You and Mulan are just outliers.”

“Look, Emma, don’t knock the matchmaking power of Good Omens Discord chats until you try them.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Well then,” Ruby declared, in a voice that suggested she thought she’d won the argument. “That leaves you with no option but the meet-cute.”

“Really, that’s my only option?”

“Just think about it, Emma.” Ruby’s eyes grew dreamy. “Adorable mix-ups in coffee shops… picking up the wrong leash at the dog park…”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“…you both reach for the last croissant…”

“Where am I going to find a croissant in Storybrooke?”

“The last bear claw then, the pastry is really beside the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“The point is that you meet someone and it’s fucking cute, okay? And then you fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“Or I could just, you know, go on as I am, not meeting anyone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, woman,” said Ruby sternly. “Do you want to live the rest of your life alone?”

Emma shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Better than being stuck with someone she didn’t love, just for some dumb reason like—

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father?”

—like giving her son a decent man in his life.

“Henry has a father,” she reminded Ruby. One he hadn’t seen for the best part of a year, but still.

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father figure who isn’t a massive douche?” amended Ruby. Emma sighed again.

“Neal does the best he can,” she insisted.

Ruby snorted. “Sure he does.”

“He does, really. He’s just… not cut out to be a parent.”

“Well, that’s for sure.”

But Emma didn’t blame Neal for being a shit dad, though she knew her friends and family did. It wasn’t his fault it was hers, for stupidly falling for and getting knocked up by a guy whose ‘best’ was showing up once or twice a year to shower Henry with presents and promises before disappearing again without a word a few weeks later. At first it had broken both their hearts—Henry’s from disappointment and Emma’s from anger and guilt over his disappointment—but Henry was twelve now and starting to learn that the parents he adored were human and flawed, and to adjust his expectations accordingly. Emma had to admit that it was a relief not to have to cover Neal’s ass anymore by trying to make excuses for him, however deeply she regretted Henry’s loss of innocence.

And yeah, it would be nice not to have to raise her kid alone. Neal got to be the fun parent, buying Henry all the stuff she couldn’t afford and taking him on trips to exciting places, leaving Emma to enforce bedtimes and check homework and try to make Henry eat the vegetables she herself hated. Having someone else around, a real adult she could rely on to share those responsibilities with her, that would be good. Great, really. Wonderful, in fact. But dating was hard enough without having to start it off by explaining that even though you yourself weren’t yet thirty you came in a two-for-one deal with a near-teenager, and Emma had had far too many first dates end early and awkwardly to hold out much hope that she would ever meet the man of her dreams, be it cute or any other way.

“I appreciate the thought, Rubes, I really do,” she said. “But I’m just not looking for anyone right now.”

“But don’t you see?” Ruby cried. “That’s the best time to meet someone—when you’re not looking.”

Emma threw up her hands. “You are impossible and I’m not talking about this with you anymore. I’ve got to get back to work anyway.”

“All right.” Ruby shrugged and let the subject drop, but the glint that still remained in her eye warned Emma that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

—

Before she returned to work after her lunch with Ruby, Emma stopped by the library. Belle wasn’t at her usual spot behind the desk so Emma ventured into the stacks on her own, in search of some books that would help Henry with his school project on the solar system. She was standing in the astronomy section with her hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans, frowning at the frankly baffling array of options when a voice spoke just to her left.

“Can I help you find something?” it said.

Emma turned with a smile that stalled abruptly as her mouth dropped open. “Um,” she said, blinking in confusion at the blue eyes and dark hair that very definitely did not belong to Belle, and the bright smile that took her breath away. “I actually could use some help, but—sorry, but do you work here?”

The owner of the voice—and the hair and the eyes—laughed. “I do, for the moment at least.”

“Did something happen to Belle?”

“To her grandfather, apparently,” he replied. “I’m not sure of the details but Belle told me she had to go back to Australia for family reasons.”

“Oh. I didn’t hear anything about that.”

The man’s eyebrow twitched in a small frown. “Well, it was quite at the last minute, so she probably didn’t have time to tell everyone. But I’d spoken to her recently and mentioned I was looking for a quiet place to spend a few weeks’ holiday and so when she asked if I could come here and cover for her for a while, I gladly agreed.”

“And why would she call you?” Emma nearly flinched at the harshness in her tone but the man’s smile widened and his eyes twinkled, sucking even more air from her lungs.

“We’re old friends from library school,” he explained, as Emma struggled for breath. “My name’s Killian Jones.”

His smile began to crumble as Emma just stood and stared at him, until she managed to shake herself out of her breathless haze and smile back. “Emma Swan,” she said. “I’m the town sheriff.”

“Ah.” Killian’s grin brightened again, and Emma thought vaguely that he should really have a licence for that thing. “That explains all the questions.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We don’t get many new faces in Storybrooke and, well—”

“Aye, of course, you can’t be too careful.”

“Um, right. Exactly.”

“Well, Sheriff Swan,” said Killian, with an absurd little waggle of his eyebrows, “I can assure you that haven’t broken any laws, but then I did only arrive in town last night so there’s still plenty of time.”

Emma laughed. She couldn’t help it, his goofy humour and ridiculous eyebrows were too charming. “But if you broke the law I’d have to lock you up,” she replied, and fucking hell was she flirting with him?

He seemed to think so, if the way his eyes glinted as he leaned in closer was any indication. “I might not mind being locked up, if you promised to stay and guard me,” he murmured.

Emma’s breath caught again at the look in his eyes, the edge of danger behind the flirty charm. “Do you talk like this to all library patrons?” she asked, cursing the raspiness in her voice.

“Definitely not. It’s highly unprofessional, but then there’s not much else I can say when you still haven’t answered my question.”

She swallowed hard. “Wh—what question?”

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh.” Duh, Emma. “Um, yeah, actually. My son has to do a project on the solar system, so I’m looking for some books he could use.”

She waited for Killian to freeze up, to awkwardly withdraw from her now that he knew she had a kid. But he simply nodded and asked “How old is your lad?”

“Ah, he’s twelve. Sixth grade.”

“Hmmm, in that case I’d recommend this one.” He reached over her shoulder to take a book from the shelf, giving Emma a whiff of some spicy cologne and a briny scent like he’d been out on the sea. Her knees went weak, and when he held out the book she stared blankly at it, trying to marshal her scrambled thoughts back into some kind of order. “It’s an excellent overview of the solar system with plenty of details on all the planets,” Killian explained, “but the language is accessible for someone your boy’s age.” His eyebrows rose again in an expectant look.

“Um. That looks great, thanks.”

“See how he gets on with it, and if he needs more information I’d be happy to make another recommendation.”

Emma nodded and followed him to the check-out desk, wordlessly handing him her card and watching as he completed the process of checking out the book. When he finished he tucked a bookmark between the pages and handed it to her with another warm smile.

“Well, Emma Swan, it’s been lovely talking to you,” he said. “I hope it won’t be a one-time thing.”

“I—I’m in here a lot,” she replied. It was only a slight exaggeration. Henry was in the library a lot and she often came to pick him up. “So I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

For the third time in fifteen minutes Killian Jones stole her breath with his smile. “I’m looking forward to it already,” he said.

—

The next morning Emma was at Granny’s waiting in line for coffee when out of nowhere someone gave her a hard shove, knocking her into the man in front of her, who had just accepted his cup from Ruby.

“Oh my God!” she cried. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay,” said the man with a tight smile, shaking droplets of coffee off his hand as Ruby’s eyes grew comically wide.

“Oh, no,” she said. “What a terrible accident. Let me get you another cup, sir.”

“Thanks,” said the man, and Emma’s own eyes nearly rolled clean from her head. Ruby was known for her lack of subtlety but this was ridiculous, even for her. Emma glanced over her shoulder just in time to spot the tip of Mulan’s braid just disappearing through the door.

“So,” the man was saying to Ruby when Emma returned her attention to him, leaning on the counter and giving her a crooked grin. “You come here often?”

“Every day,” said Ruby dryly. “I work here. But maybe you’d like to ask Emma that question.”

The man’s pale blue eyes flitted to Emma, then rapidly away. “I’d rather ask you.”

Ruby gave a frustrated huff. “Here’s your coffee.” She thrust the new cup at the man and turned her back.

“What’s her problem?” the man muttered.

“I don’t know,” snapped Emma, “maybe you should ask her wife.” The man’s eyes widened in alarm at the look on her face and he backed away, slowly edging towards the door.

“Have a great day,” she called after him, then turned to her best friend as the man fled the diner.

“I hope you’re happy,” she hissed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ruby asked, the picture of innocence. Emma rolled her eyes.

“I’m guessing this was your attempt at a coffee shop meet-cute? I spill the man’s coffee, apologise profusely, he laughs it off. I offer to buy him another cup, he refuses but asks me to dinner instead? Was that the idea?”

“...maybe.”

“And you see how well it turned out?”

“He was clearly just not The One,” said Ruby stubbornly.

“There is no ‘The One’ Rubes, that is a myth, and I cannot believe you roped Mulan into this nonsense too.”

“I didn’t rope her in, she volunteered! We both want you to be happy, Emma.”

“And you think dumping coffee on the world’s creepiest doctor will make me happy?”

“What? Have you met him before?”

“Yeah. Last year when Henry broke his arm. You’ll be pleased to hear that he tried to hit on me then. Right in front of my kid.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Meet-cutes only work in romcoms and fanfics, Ruby. Here in reality they just piss people off.”

“Well,” said Ruby, handing Emma her coffee, determination clear in the set of her jaw. “We’ll see about that.”

—

Emma: What do you want for dinner?

Henry: What have we got?

Emma: Nothing, that’s why I’m asking. I can stop at the store on the way home.

Henry: I suppose pizza isn’t an option?

Emma: We had that yesterday.

Henry: Not a problem for me. But chicken or something would be okay too.

Emma: One of those rotisserie chickens?

Henry: Yeah, sounds good.

Emma: Okay, kid. See you at home.

Emma was standing in the grocery store, frowning as she compared the rotisserie chickens when a voice spoke just to her left.

“I don’t think there’s much of a difference between them, love.”

Her heart leapt and her skin tingled, and yet when she turned to face Killian Jones—and his damned smile—she was still not prepared.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I, um, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No reason why you should, I guess, except that I like all people do need to eat from time to time.”

“Of course.” She felt foolish, but his expression was warm and only slightly teasing.

“How did your son get on with the book?” he asked.

“Really well! He read for like two hours last night. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“Any time.”

They stood grinning at each other until someone behind them cleared his throat and they both gave a little start. Killian rubbed the back of his neck as he moved aside to allow Mr Clark to select a chicken.

“So, um,” said Emma after he’d left. “Are you getting stuff for dinner?”

“Aye. I’m staying in the apartment above the library and this morning I discovered that the oven doesn’t work, and the repairman can't come until tomorrow. So I need something that comes pre-cooked. Hence rotisserie chicken.”

“Solid plan,” said Emma, though she felt sad thinking of this lovely man eating dinner alone in that tiny apartment, and that was the only reason that she blurted out “But, ah, why don’t you come over and eat with Henry and me?”

“Oh.” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Since we’re both having the same thing it makes sense not to waste a chicken,” Emma barrelled on. “When Henry and I get one we’ve always got leftovers, so… I mean, you don’t have to if you’d rather not—”

“No, no. I mean, yes! Yes, I’d like that.”

“Oh. Um, good.”

He smiled again, bright as always but with a hint of shyness that caught her off guard. “Is it, ah, just the two of you?” he asked. “Presuming Henry is your son, that is?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “His dad’s, um... not in the picture.”

“I see. Well then I would love to share a meal with you, Emma Swan. And your son. And perhaps you would allow me to bring dessert?”

Emma’s heart was pounding so loudly now she was sure he must be able to hear it. “That’d be great. Um, here’s my cell number, just at the bottom of this.” She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to him. “Text me and I’ll send you directions to our place. Can you come over about six?”

“Six it is.” Killian slipped the card into his own pocket carefully, as though he didn’t wish to harm it. “I’ll see you then.”

—

Emma finished the rest of her shopping in a daze, wandering haphazardly through the aisles and putting random things in her cart without thinking before giving herself a mental slap and a stern admonition to get a fucking grip. She removed the strawberry syrup from her cart (she and Henry both hated fake strawberry flavour) and the tuna (what the hell had she been thinking?) and then remembered that Henry was nearly out of peanut butter. His favourite kind was the most popular one and the store could hardly keep it stocked, so she was pleased to see that there was one jar left as she approached the shelf. Just as she was reaching for it, though, another hand appeared and snatched it from her grip.

“Hey!” she cried indignantly. “That was mine!”

“Sorry,” said the man who’d taken it. He didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Maybe they’ve got more in the back?”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma huffed.

“Nope,” the man replied. “Look, I really am sorry but someone needs this peanut butter. She sent me in here to get it specifically.”

Emma hissed her breath out through her teeth. “She did, did she? And did she say why she couldn’t get the damn peanut butter herself?”

“Ah, no,” said the man, frowning warily at her. “She didn’t. But listen, lady it’s just a jar of peanut butter.”

Emma’s lip curled into a snarl and the man’s eyes widened in alarm. He backed away from her, nearly stumbling in his haste. “So, um, I’m going to, ah, go now,” he stuttered. “Bye.”

He turned and fled towards the checkouts with Emma close on his heels. She followed him to the self-checkout line where he kept shooting nervous looks over his shoulder at her and she amused herself by giving him darker and darker glares each time and keeping her eyes fixed on him when he took the jar of peanut butter and ran out the door.

When she arrived at where she’d left her car Emma was entirely unsurprised to find Ruby there, leaning against the hood and looking slightly sheepish.

“So what was the plan this time?” asked Emma. “That we would both reach for the last jar of peanut butter, our fingers would touch, sparks would fly, and we would exchange cute banter with sexually charged undertones ending in a date?”

Ruby nodded. “Something like that.”

“Ruby, I keep telling you, that is not how real life works!”

“Oh yeah?” Ruby challenged. “Well, what about David and Mary Margaret! They had a meet-cute.”

“He mistook her for a burglar and she hit him in the face!”

“Exactly!”

“How is that a meet-cute?”

“How is it not? They met, it was cute, and now they’ve got an amazing story to tell their kids.”

“I met Neal when I tried to steal the car he’d already stolen,” Emma pointed out. “That’s an amazing story and yet our relationship was a fucking dumpster fire that I’d be happy to forget all about if it weren’t for Henry. Not all cute meetings end in happily ever after, and frankly I don’t think a squabble over peanut butter in a small town grocery store is the best way to jump-start true love.”

“And what would you know about true love?” Ruby snapped, then gasped in horror as her eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, Emma, I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. “I didn’t mean it.”

Emma’s chest felt tight. “It’s okay,” she muttered.

“No, it really isn’t.” Ruby gripped Emma’s hands in hers. “I love you, Ems, and you’re one of the most loving people I know. That’s why I want so badly to see you happy.”

“I know.” Emma nodded and gave Ruby’s hands a squeeze. “I know you didn’t mean to say it.” However true it might be, she thought bitterly.

“Let me make it up to you—”

“Oh my God, please don’t—”

“—with this free jar of peanut butter!” finished Ruby triumphantly. She reached into her bag and removed the jar, offering it up with a flourish.

Emma smiled as she took it. “Thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Henry how someone stole the last jar right out from under me.”

Ruby flashed a grin, then turned solemn. “Are we okay, Emma?” she asked hesitantly. “Truly?”

“Of course we are,” Emma reassured her. “Truly. I do have to get going though I have—uh, Henry will be getting hungry.”

“Of course.” Ruby stepped back to let Emma unlock her car door. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you.”

As Emma drove home she tried not to think about why she hadn’t told Ruby that Killian was coming for dinner. It might stop her friend’s meet-cute-ing attempts if she knew Emma had a—well, not a date exactly but a man coming over to... well, just to eat really, but still. She could have spun it so it seemed like a date and got Ruby off her back, at least for a while. Yet for some reason Emma wanted to keep Killian just for herself. At least for a while.

—

Killian Jones was punctual and he could follow directions, Emma thought when her doorbell rang that evening at six o’clock precisely. That alone put him head and shoulders above Neal... and what the hell was she doing comparing a man she’d literally met yesterday with her son’s useless father, even just in the privacy of her own head?

She smoothed her hair and the front of her blouse and took a deep breath to calm herself before opening the door, and still she was not prepared for that stupid, gorgeous smile.

“Good evening, Swan,” Killian greeted her. “I come bearing brownies.”

And wine, she couldn’t help noticing as she stepped back to let him in. “Great, uh, brownies are my favourite,” she lied. “Um, Killian, I’d like you to meet my son, Henry.”

Henry came forward with smile on his lips and mild confusion in his eyes. “Hi Killian, nice to meet you.”

“And you, lad. I hope you like brownies as well.”

“I love them,” Henry replied. “Though my mom usually prefers—” he broke off when Emma gave him a Look. “Ah, she prefers hers without nuts.”

“Well, she’s in luck because these are nut-free.”

“Sounds perfect!” said Henry brightly, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever loved him more.

“Let me just take those from you,” she said, relieving Killian of the box of brownies and bottle of wine. “Henry, can you show him into the living room? Oh, and Killian what would you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s easiest, love.”

“Water, soda, beer?”

“Beer would be great.”

“Coming right up.”

Emma fled to the kitchen, doing her best not to look like she was fleeing. Once safety through the door she set the brownies and wine on the counter and desperately drew air into her lungs. She wasn’t going to survive spending much more time with Killian if she didn’t learn to breathe around him, she thought wryly, and also why was she even thinking about spending more time with him—this was nothing but a casual, friendly meal and they had only just met.

“Get a fucking grip, Emma,” she reminded herself firmly, and went to pour some beer.

When she entered the living room a few minutes later Killian and Henry were sitting next to each other on the sofa, deep in discussion about the solar system. Henry had his project notes spread out on the coffee table and Killian was rubbing his chin, listening intently as her son spoke, and Emma’s heart absolutely did not melt at the sight of them. It didn’t.

She set a glass of soda in front of Henry and a beer in front of Killian, who looked up at her with a smile.

“Thanks, love.”

Aaaand there went her breath again, thought Emma. Damn it.

“Ah, I’m just going to go finish up dinner, um, if everything’s okay in here?” she said.

“Aye, I think we’ll be all right.”

“Mom, guess what? Killian knows all about astronomy and he’s going to help me make sure my project’s good!” Henry exclaimed.

“All about astronomy, eh?” teased Emma.

To her astonishment Killian’s cheeks and the tips of his ears turned pink. “A slight exaggeration on the lad’s part,” he said, scratching at a spot just below his ear. “But it is an interest of mine and I’ll do my best to be of some use to him.”

“He’s already helped me with Saturn’s moons, and now we’re gonna talk about the rings on Uranus,” said Henry excitedly. “Did you know Uranus has rings, Mom?”

“I did not,” said Emma, biting her lip as amusement glinted in Killian’s eyes.

“Yep,” Henry continued, oblivious to their mirth. “Just skinny ones, though.”

“I suppose bigger ones wouldn’t fit,” said Emma. A muscle danced in Killian’s jaw as he clenched it tight. Henry frowned.

“Uranus is still pretty big,” he said. “Not as big as Jupiter or Saturn but—hey! Are you guys laughing at Uranus?”

“Of course not, lad,” said Killian. “Uranus isn’t funny at all.”

“It’s very serious actually,” said Emma.

“I certainly take it seriously,” Killian agreed.

Henry glared at them. “You guys realise I’m the twelve-year-old boy, right? If anyone should be making Uranus jokes it’s me.”

“Well you have been letting some excellent joke opportunities slip by you, my boy.”

“Yeah, Henry, we’re just picking up your slack.”

“Much like rings on Uranus might.”

“Oh my God,” Henry groaned, as Emma lost control of her laughter and collapsed onto the sofa. Killian was grinning like a maniac, ridiculously pleased with himself, which only made her laugh harder. Henry held out for nearly a full minute before he started giggling too, then all three of them held their stomachs and roared.

—

Their fit of shared hilarity helped Emma relax, and the dinner ended up being one of the best evenings she’d had in a long time. Killian, as it turned out, had spent several years in the navy before he became a librarian. He had hundreds of stories about his adventures in far-off lands and seemingly endless patience for inquisitive twelve-year-olds who wanted to hear every single one.

Emma sat and ate and listened as Killian regaled her son with his tales, and tried not to think too hard about how simply nice this was. Like the sort of pleasant family meal she’d always dreamed of as a child and regretted that she couldn’t give Henry, and she really needed to stop thinking about Killian like he was an actual part of her life when she’d barely known him for a day. She knew better than that. From bitter experience.

And yet. Killian’s kindness to and interest in Henry was genuine, she was sure of it. There was no hint in his words or actions to suggest that he was trying to use her kid to get to her, or that he was only pretending to care about Henry’s project. Her superpower didn’t even twitch. Every instinct Emma had was screaming that the most sinister thing about Killian Jones was how dangerously attractive she found him. He was just a nice man who knew how to talk to children. A nice, insanely hot man with the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that stole all the air from her lungs, who not only didn’t run when he found out about her kid but actually liked him.

Fuck, she thought, as Killian caught her eye and gave her a little half-smile that had her gasping for air. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

—

“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Swan.” Killian’s hand was on the doorknob but he seemed in no great hurry to leave, and she was equally not eager to see him go. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too. And thanks for being so nice to Henry.”

“Your boy is a delight, it was no hardship.”

“Still. It meant a lot to him.” She didn’t mention Neal and Killian didn’t ask, but she had the strangest feeling that they both wished they could.

You only just met him, damn it!

“It was my pleasure,” said Killian, and the way his voice went gruff on the word pleasure set her heart racing and heat blooming across her skin, and when his breath caught and his gaze dropped to her lips she had to force herself to remember that this wasn’t a date and she didn’t actually know this man. But she could tell from the rasp in his throat and the flush on his cheeks that he was feeling the same things she was, that he wanted the same things just as badly, and it would be easy, so easy just to lean in and press her lips to his—

Too easy, and far too risky. Emma gulped and stepped back as Killian gave a shaky exhale, closing his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed and Emma shoved her hands hard into her jeans pockets. He opened his eyes and then the door and gave her a brief smile before stepping into the hallway. Emma dug her fingers into her legs and firmly squashed the tiny part of her that wanted to beg him to stay.

“Well, ah, thanks for coming,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Aye.” He took two steps then stopped and turned back. “Er, perhaps next time you might allow me to provide the meal?” he said hesitantly. “Just for you?”

“Um. What?” said Emma, then immediately wanted to kick herself.

Killian’s nervous expression softened. “Well you see, as much as I enjoyed Henry’s company this evening, I’d very much like to take you out, Emma,” he said. “Just the two of us. On a date.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Aye, really. On Friday, perhaps, if you’re free?”

“Ah, yeah, I can be,” she replied, trying not to sound too eager. “I’ll have to see if I can get someone to watch Henry, but… yeah. I’d like that.”

That breath-stealing smile broke across his face as she knew it would, and yet she still wasn’t ready for it. “It’s a date, then,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something warm.”

“Uh.. okay.”

“And love, if you can’t find someone to look after Henry at such short notice I’d still like to spend the evening with you.” Killian’s face was earnest now. “With both of you, I mean. We’ll just postpone our date until a more convenient time.”

A lump rose in Emma’s throat and for a moment she thought she might cry. “I—that’d be good too. I’ll let you know.”

He nodded. “Good night, then, Swan.”

“Good night.”

—

@katie-dub @thisonesatellite @spartanguard @kmomof4 @stahlop @mariakov81 @teamhook in case you’re interested :)

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #cs fic au #captain swan #captain cobra #meet-cutes #sort of #fluff #like lots of it #ridiculous amounts #also dumb jokes #and dates #the meet cute #profdanglaisstuff

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