#'but you still have to do your paperwork'

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

I drew inspiration from the TikTok lipstick challenge, which, to be honest, left me feeling incredibly lonely. The whole experience stirred something in me, prompting me to write about it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

Additionally, I was influenced by @fraternum-momentum and their OC, Sol, which added another layer to the idea. As for whether this should be marked NSFW or SWF, I'm torn—it's really more of a playful game involving lipstick, with a soft, romantic vibe and a lot of playful banter and chemistry between the characters. 

It's meant to be lighthearted and playful, with a bit of flirtation thrown in, but definitely nothing explicit! Also, I think I might've missed the birthday of a certain character in the game… I wonder who that could be?

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

The student council room was eerily quiet after hours, lit only by the warm glow of a desk lamp on the far end. The usual hustle and bustle of meetings, debates, and planning sessions had faded, leaving the space unusually still. 

Except for him.  

Crowe was seated at the large oak table, his posture impeccable as he reviewed a stack of neatly organized papers. His sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows. His black bottom-up shirt was loosened but still perfectly modest, and his purple vest hung from the back of his chair. He looked, as always, impossibly put-together.

And that’s exactly why you’d decided to stop by tonight, coming from a late night studying at the library, you could help to pay him a visit, after all, you have the key. He was too perfect, too composed. It was high time someone tested just how unshakeable Crowe’s gentlemanly façade was.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him briefly before clearing your throat. "Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Crowe glanced up, his brows lifting in surprise at first, but his expression quickly softened into a familiar, warm smile. “You have a habit of sneaking up on people, you know that?”

“It’s one of my better skills,” you replied, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind you. “What are you doing here so late, anyway? Don’t tell me it’s another mountain of paperwork.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was?” he asked, motioning to the neatly stacked papers in front of him. “Someone has to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Ever the responsible one,” you teased, crossing the room toward him. “But don’t you ever get tired of being so... predictable?”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Predictable? That’s a new one. Care to elaborate?”

You grinned, circling the table to stand behind his chair. “You’re always so composed, so polite, so... gentlemanly. Doesn’t it get boring playing the role of the perfect man?”

“Not particularly,” he replied smoothly, though his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “Someone has to keep things in order.”

“Mm, but what if someone didn’t?” you murmured, leaning down until your lips were close to his ear. “What if someone decided to mess with that perfect little image of yours?”

Crowe turned his head slightly, his deep blue eyes meeting yours with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Is that what you’re here to do?”

“Maybe,” you said innocently, stepping around to face him. Without giving him a chance to respond, you perched yourself on the edge of the table, just close enough to be in his space without overstepping.

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his deep blue eyes fixed on you with a spark of intrigue. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”  

You didn’t answer right away. 

Instead, a sly smirk played on your lips as you slid off the table in one smooth, deliberate motion, closing the small distance between you and him. Without hesitation, you eased yourself into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs.  

Crowe stiffened immediately, his posture going rigid as his hands hovered uncertainly in the air, unsure where to land. His usually composed demeanor faltered, and the faintest trace of a blush began creeping up his neck. It was subtle, but on his warm, light brown skin, it was enough for you to notice—and grin.  

“Well,” you started, looping your arms lazily around his neck, your fingers toying with the ends of his braided brown hair. “I thought I’d start by seeing how much it takes to make you blush.”  

Crowe’s breath hitched as you leaned in, your lips brushing his cheek in a featherlight kiss. “That’s one,” you murmured, your tone playful, your lips curling into a mischievous smile.  

His jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Are you keeping score?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with a nervous edge.  

“Maybe,” you teased, planting a second kiss on his other cheek. “Two.”  

Your hand moved to the back of his neck, your fingers threading through his single braid as you tilted his head slightly to the side. The motion exposed the line of his jaw, and you didn’t hesitate, pressing soft kisses along the sharp angles, your lips tracing the warm expanse of his skin.  

“Three, four…” you counted softly, letting your lips linger just a moment longer with each touch.  

Crowe swallowed hard, the tension in his body melting just enough for his hands to find a place—tentatively settling on your waist. His grip was light as if he were still unsure if this was something he should allow himself to enjoy. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, though the corners of his mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Playing such a dangerous game.”  

“Am I?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still idly twirling single braid. Your voice took on a mockingly innocent tone. “Or are you just afraid I might win?”  

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled faintly. "I suppose that depends on what you’re trying to win."

You smirked, reaching into your bag and pulling out a tube of lipstick. Crowe’s brow furrowed in confusion as you uncapped it, applying the deep crimson shade with practiced ease. 

"And what’s this for?" he asked, his voice carrying the slightest hint of wariness.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin, lips hovering near his cheek. “Call it an experiment,” you murmured, your voice soft and teasing. Without waiting for a reply, you pressed a deliberate kiss just below his cheekbone.

The faint scent of your perfume lingered in the air as you pulled back, a perfect lipstick mark standing out against his warm, light brown skin. You tilted your head slightly, inspecting your handwork with a mischievous smile. “Not bad,” you said lightly, as if critiquing a painting.

Crowe blinked, visibly stunned, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours. He didn’t move, his breath caught as if trying to process what just happened.

But you weren’t finished.

Tilting his chin slightly with a gentle finger, you leaned in again, this time brushing your lips along the edge of his jawline. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in his shoulders betraying his carefully composed demeanor. Another kiss followed, slower this time, leaving a bold imprint just below his jaw.

Crowe’s lips parted, his breathing uneven now, though he still didn’t stop you.

“Hmm,” you mused, leaning back slightly, only to trail your gaze down to the column of his neck. “This feels incomplete.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat when your lips found the curve of his neck. A soft gasp escaped him as you pressed another kiss there, then another, just above his collarbone. His hand twitched as though he might reach for you, but he held back, his restraint only making the moment more electric.

When you finally leaned back, Crowe’s usual polished, gentlemanly demeanor was in tatters. His skin was a masterpiece of faint crimson marks—his cheeks, jawline, and neck all kissed and claimed. He reached up hesitantly, brushing his fingers over one of the marks on his jaw, his touch lingering there as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of your lips.

“You—” he started, his voice rough, but you cut him off with a soft laugh.

“Speechless?” you teased, recapping your lipstick and slipping it back into your bag with an air of nonchalance. “I must’ve done something right.”

Crowe’s jaw worked, his lips pressing together as he struggled to find his composure. His usual confidence had been thoroughly dismantled, leaving him looking uncharacteristically vulnerable yet… yearning. The once-pristine picture of composure—the meticulous student apart of the council—now looked delightfully disheveled, his face, jawline, and even his neck adorned with vivid, unmistakable stains.

“There,” you said, stepping back and tilting your head as if you were admiring a masterpiece. “Not so perfect now, are you?”  

“You’ve officially ruined my ‘gentlemanly’ image,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. His fingers hesitantly brushed over the fresh stain near his jawline, his expression equal parts baffled and amused. “I can’t believe you just did that.”  

“Oh, believe it,” you teased, crossing your arms and giving him a satisfied grin. “Honestly, I think it suits you. Adds a little color. You’re welcome.”  

Crowe let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. How am I supposed to explain this?”  

“Explain it?” you said, feigning shock. “You mean you’re not just going to own it? What happened to that legendary confidence of yours?”  

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off by leaning in again, adding a quick kiss to his forehead. “Now you’ve got the full set,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Face, neck, and...” You trailed off meaningfully, letting the pause hang in the air.  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his composure slipping as he caught the implication. “You wouldn’t—”  

You didn’t let him finish. Before he could say another word, you planted a deliberate kiss at the corner of his mouth, then slowly worked your way to the center, leaving faint marks in your wake.  

When you pulled back, your face was the picture of triumph. “Now you’re officially branded. Guess that gentleman thing has its limits, huh?”  

Crowe’s deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”  

“Absolutely,” you replied without hesitation. “And admit it—you are too.”  

He exhaled, his hands resting lightly on your waist as if he wasn’t sure whether to steady you or himself. “You like testing me,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, tinged with both amusement and something deeper.  

“And you like failing,” you shot back, leaning in so your faces were barely an inch apart. “Don’t worry, though—I think you wear it well. Lipstick suits you.”  

Crowe’s lips quirked into a smirk, his usually poised demeanor finally cracking under your relentless teasing. “You’re not making this easy,” he murmured, his voice low but laced with a playful challenge.  

“And why should I?” you quipped, settling more comfortably on his lap and letting your arms drape lazily around his neck. You leaned back just enough to take in your handiwork. The soft smudges of lipstick painted a trail of your victory across his cheeks, jaw, and now his neck. A particularly bold kiss near his collarbone had left a bright red mark against his brown skin.  

Crowe raised an eyebrow at you, his deep blue eyes flickering between exasperation and amusement. “I look like I lost a fight with a makeup counter.”  

“Correction: you lost to me,” you replied with a smug grin, leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. Your voice dropped to a teasing whisper. “And you didn’t exactly stop me.”  

Crowe huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and rich despite the predicament. “Oh, I’m fully aware,” he said, his tone dry but edged with amusement. “Do you make a habit of ambushing people with lipstick, or am I just special?”  

“You’re special,” you teased, drawing the word out in a sing-song tone as your fingers toyed with the loosened knot of his tie. “But don’t get too excited—I just thought someone as put-together as you needed a little... color.”  

His breath hitched, and for the briefest moment, his usual restraint faltered. His hand slid up to your waist, his fingers curling slightly as if to anchor himself. “And here I thought you were here to apologize for interrupting my work,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, his eyes darker as they locked onto yours.  

“Apologize?” you repeated, feigning innocence. “For what? For making you look even more handsome? For proving you’re not as unshakeable as you pretend to be?”  

Crowe chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.  

“Impossible?” you echoed, shifting slightly in his lap, your fingers lightly tracing the collar of his shirt. You leaned in closer, your nose just brushing against his, and your voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper. “That’s funny, coming from someone who’s supposed to be a gentleman. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know... stopping me? Resisting temptation?”  

Crowe’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, though not quickly enough to mask the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face. His gaze dropped, lingering on your lips for a heartbeat too long before meeting your eyes again. His hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, his grip firm but still careful, as though he were holding himself back.  

“And why,” he murmured, his voice lower now, the usual steadiness giving way to something rougher, more deliberate, “would I want to stop you?”  

Your smirk widened, victory already bubbling in your chest. “That’s a good question,” you mused, leaning in until your lips brushed his, the contact feather-light and achingly slow. His breath caught, and you could feel the tension in his frame, the way he held himself still, like he was caught between giving in and holding on.  

“Good answer,” you whispered against his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually so composed and guarded, were darker now, his composure visibly slipping. You caught the faint flush rising along his neck, creeping just beneath his jawline, and you couldn’t help but grin.  

Crowe exhaled sharply, breaking the silence as he leaned his head back against the chair, a wry, unsteady chuckle slipping past his lips. “You’re trouble,” he said, though his voice betrayed him—uneven and laced with something softer.  

“And yet,” you replied, hopping off his lap with a triumphant flourish, smoothing the hem of your clothing as if nothing had happened, “you haven’t asked me to leave.”  

Crowe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as that familiar glint of mischief returned to his expression. He looked at you now with the kind of calm that was just daring you to keep pushing. “Maybe,” he said slowly, his voice steadying again, “I like a little trouble.”  

You laughed softly, stepping back to admire your handiwork. His shirt was slightly wrinkled from where your hands had rested, and his face was a mess of lipstick smudges—on his cheeks, along his jaw, and the faintest stain at the corner of his lips.  

“Good,” you said with a mischievous grin, nodding toward the streak of lipstick on his neck. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Crowe’s eyebrow arched, his lips curling into a small, amused smile as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady and teasing. “Then I’ll be sure to prepare myself,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

“Oh, you’d better be,” you shot back, taking a step back from his lap with deliberate slowness, your eyes lingering on him for just a moment longer. “Because next time, I might not be so... gentle.”

Turning on your heel, you strode to the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Just before you left, you glanced over your shoulder, your grin still firmly in place. “Try not to miss me too much.”

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Crowe alone in the dim light of the student council room. He let out a quiet breath, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the mark you’d left on his neck. 

A faint chuckle escaped him as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the closed door with a small shake of his head. “You really are something else,” he muttered to himself, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. 

Trouble, yes—but perhaps the kind of trouble he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

The living room was a cozy chaos, with warm fairy lights casting a golden glow over the dark walls and mismatched furniture. The lights draped lazily over the curtain rods, twinkling faintly as if encouraging the quiet mischief brewing within. The couch—a beloved relic, its cushions sagging in all the right ways—sat at the center of it all, surrounded by a battlefield of cosmetics.  

The coffee table groaned under the weight of lipstick tubes in every shade imaginable, from muted nudes to shocking neons. Tissue papers lay crumpled beside an array of smudged hand mirrors, and the faint scent of vanilla and wax lingered in the air. The room was comfortably warm, the heater humming faintly in the corner, adding to the intimate atmosphere.  

You perched on the couch's edge, your legs tucked beneath you, wearing an oversized hoodie that dwarfed your frame but left your enthusiasm unrestrained. A wicked grin played on your lips as you reached for the next weapon in your arsenal—a vibrant crimson lipstick labeled *Scarlet Desire.*  

Sol sat beside you, a reluctant participant in your glamorous experiment. His dark, disheveled hair framed his pale face, strands occasionally falling into his reddish-orange eyes that seemed to glow like dying embers in the dim light. He slouched dramatically, his arms crossed as if that might shield him from the barrage of attention you had planned.  

"All right, Sol," you announced with mock seriousness, brandishing the tube like a wand. "You’ve been chosen as tonight’s test dummy. Congratulations on your moment of fame."  

Sol let out a groan that was half dramatic and half genuine, tipping his head back against the couch and staring at the ceiling as if it might offer an escape. "Why do I feel like I’m about to star in a weird beauty guru horror story?"  

"Because you are," you replied with a smirk, twisting the lipstick open to reveal its bold crimson shade. The color gleamed under the fairy lights, a promise of chaos to come. "Now, sit still and quit whining. Let’s see if ‘Scarlet Desire’ lives up to its name."  

Before he could muster another complaint, you leaned in, one hand gently cupping his jaw to steady him. His breath hitched, his body freezing under the unexpected closeness. The faint scent of your perfume—something floral and sweet—floated between you, making his pulse quicken.  

You applied the lipstick to your lips with precision, pausing briefly to inspect the smoothness in the hand mirror. Satisfied, you leaned closer again, your face just inches from his.  

"Ready?" you teased, your voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper, your grin turning impish.  

Sol’s eyes widened slightly, their reddish hue glinting with a mix of trepidation and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Do I have a choice?" he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.  

"Not at all," you replied cheerfully, brushing aside his weak protests.  

Without hesitation, you pressed your lips to his cheek, the cool touch of lipstick contrasting with the warmth of his skin. The kiss was quick but deliberate, leaving behind a perfectly shaped crimson stain against his pale complexion.  

Sol blinked, his mouth parting slightly as he tried to process what had just happened. His usual indifferent mask cracked the faintest hint of pink creeping up his ears. The lipstick stain on his cheek seemed to burn hotter than the room’s heater, a brand he couldn’t ignore.  

You leaned back, tilting the hand mirror to inspect your handiwork. "Still intact," you mused, tapping your lips thoughtfully. "That’s a point for ‘Scarlet Desire.’"  

Sol finally found his voice, though it came out uneven. “Is… is this going to take all night?”  

“Probably,” you replied, lips curling into a mischievous smile as you reached for another tube. You held it up to the light, inspecting the label. “‘Forbidden Plum.’ Sounds dramatic enough, don’t you think?”  

The deep purple shade gleamed as you twisted the tube, the realization dawning on Sol that this was far from over. He groaned again, though the faint flush creeping up his neck betrayed the fact that he wasn’t entirely upset about the situation.  

“Relax,” you teased, leaning in close, your warm breath brushing his ear. “I’ll be gentle.”  

Before he could respond, your lips pressed softly to his jawline, leaving a perfect, dark imprint just below the curve of his cheekbone. You lingered for a moment, letting the heat of the kiss sink in before pulling back to inspect the mark.  

“Not bad,” you murmured, tilting your head and running your thumb over the stain as if appraising your work. “But I think this color needs a little more flair.”  

Without waiting for his approval, you leaned in again, this time brushing your lips against his neck. The touch was softer, teasing, and you felt the slight hitch in his breathing as your lipstick left another vivid mark just above his collarbone.  

Sol swallowed hard, his face now a canvas of warmth and embarrassment. This wasn’t just a lipstick test anymore—it was a battle to maintain his composure against your relentless, flirtatious charm.  

“Hm,” you mused again, holding up the mirror to check your lips, then twisting open another tube. “Alright, next contender: ‘Midnight Rose.’ Let’s see if it’s as dramatic as it sounds.”  

His reddish orange eyes tracked your every move, flickering between the lipstick in your hand and the playful glint in your eyes. As you leaned in to kiss his other cheek, the cool press of your lips sent a jolt down his spine, and his fingers curled tightly around the edge of the couch cushion.  

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, voice low and unsteady.  

“You say that like you’re not,” you shot back, your tone as playful as the smile that followed.  

This time, you kissed along his jawline again, dragging your lips lightly over his skin before pulling back with a smirk. The fairy lights cast a warm glow over the room, adding to the intimacy of the moment as your laughter filled the space.  

By the fourth or seventh kiss, Sol was no longer slouched but sitting ramrod straight, his breath uneven, and his lips parted in a dazed expression. The air between you felt charged, and every teasing glance you shot his way only added to his visible fluster.  

“Now how… how many more of these are there?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You tilted your head, pretending to count the remaining tubes. “Oh, only about five or six. Maybe seven. You’re handling this so well, Sol, I might just have to make you my permanent lipstick tester.”  

He groaned, a hand flying to his forehead in mock defeat, but his reddish-orange eyes lingered on you longer than they should have.  

“You must be getting bored with this experiment by now,” he mumbled, though his tone lacked conviction.  

“Bored? Not a chance,” you quipped, leaning in one more time, this time planting a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Though I think you might be getting dazed from all the attention.”  

Sol’s breath caught, and his cheeks flamed brighter than before. He could only sit there, speechless and utterly smitten, as you reached for yet another lipstick tube.  

“This one’s called ‘Velvet Sin,’” you announced, holding it up with a playful wink. “Let’s see if it’s worth the hype.”  

For a moment, he thought about protesting, but then he realized—what was the point?

He was already lost in the haze of your laughter, your teasing touches, and the warm, lingering impressions of your kisses. The pink, purple, and red smudges peppered across Sol's pale skin. He sat stiffly, his black and green streaks bangs veiling his burning cheeks as he avoided your amused gaze.  

You held up the mirror again, turning your head to inspect your lips carefully. "Still nothing, maybe I should just stick to clear gloss,” you said, a triumphant edge in your tone. "It’s like these lipsticks were forged in a lab to smudge. Great…."  

Then you turned the mirror toward Sol, revealing his reflection. His reddish-orange eyes widened as he stared, dumbfounded, at the chaotic array of lipstick marks scattered across his face—his jaw, cheeks, and even a faint smear near his collarbone from when you leaned in a little too close earlier.  

You burst out laughing, breaking the silence. "You look like a really sad art project," you teased, clutching the mirror with one hand and your stomach with the other as you doubled over in laughter.  

He huffed, clearly trying to mask his growing embarrassment, but the corner of his lips twitched upward in a sheepish smile. "You’re enjoying this way too much."  

Sol, typically composed in his aloofness, looked anything but indifferent as you leaned in, armed with yet another lipstick in your collection. His usual mask of stoicism had cracked, replaced by a look of pure, unguarded vulnerability.

“And you’re taking it way too seriously,” you teased, your voice low and dripping with mischief.

Before Sol could respond, you closed the gap between you, planting a kiss squarely on the tip of his nose. The kiss was playful, a soft smooch that left behind a faint, heart-shaped lipstick mark. The vibrant maroon stood out against his pale skin, and you pulled back, your lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

"Perfect," you murmured, tilting your head to inspect the tiny flourish you’d left behind.

Sol sat there, motionless, his lips slightly parted as if he’d forgotten how to form words. His reddish orange eyes were wide, darting to your lips and then back to your eyes. He looked completely out of his depth, his usual brooding demeanor utterly replaced by something unsteady and raw.

You didn’t stop. You leaned in again, closer this time, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Sol’s breath hitched audibly as your lips ghosted over his cheek.

“Let’s try something more daring,” you whispered, the heat of your breath brushing against his skin before you pressed a deliberate kiss just beside the corner of his mouth.

His entire body stiffened, his hand gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. The lipstick left a bold mark just shy of his lips, teasingly close. You pulled back ever so slightly, your gaze lingering on the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

“Hmm, maybe I should try it here next,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently brushing his chin to tilt his face toward you.

Sol’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly as you leaned in further. This time, you kissed him squarely on the mouth, a soft, deliberate press of your lips against his. The kiss was slow, your lips brushing his with just enough pressure to leave a faint imprint of the maroon shade.

When you pulled away, his lips glistened faintly, the color smudged ever so slightly. His cheeks were burning red now, the flush spreading up to the tips of his ears. Sol’s expression was a mix of stunned disbelief and something else—something heavier, like a quiet yearning he couldn’t contain.

"Oops," you said with a playful grin, holding up the mirror to show him the faint but unmistakable lipstick mark lingering on his lips. "Looks like you’re officially part of the experiment now."

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. His gaze dropped to your lips again, lingering there a moment too long before darting back to your eyes. "You... you’re really not holding back," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

"Should I?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached for another lipstick. "I think you’re holding up pretty well, Sol. You’re a surprisingly good test dummy."

Sol didn’t respond. He just stared, his lips still tingling from the kiss, his mind racing in directions he wasn’t ready to admit. His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare. You reached for the next tube—deep plum, almost black, its sleek metallic casing glinting under the dim fairy lights.  

"All right, final test," you declared, twisting the lipstick open with a satisfying click. The color was rich and bold, a shade that dared anyone to look away. You leaned in, closer than before, your breath brushing against Sol’s cheek.  

He stiffened, his head tilting slightly as though torn between leaning away and leaning in. "You’re relentless, you know that?" he muttered, his voice low and strained.  

"Let’s see how kiss-proof this one really is," you whispered, your lips curling into a playful grin.  

Before he could protest, you kissed him, deliberately slower this time. The plush warmth of your lips pressed deeper against his lips, lingering longer than any of the others. Sol’s breath hitched audibly, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as his tension melted into something softer. When you pulled back, you admired your work: a perfect, bold imprint on his pale red lips, perfect and center.  

You shifted slightly, cupping his chin with your hand to turn his face toward you. His eyes were half-lidded, his dark lashes casting shadows against his flushed cheeks. He looked wrecked in the most endearing way.  

"Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already," you teased, your thumb brushing the edge of his jaw.  

Sol didn’t answer. He seemed dazed, his lips slightly parted as though the words had escaped him entirely. Undeterred, you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his temple this time, your lips lingering against the curve of his hairline.  

"Still intact," you murmured, half to yourself as you pulled back and inspected your own lips in the mirror.  

Sol blinked, his lips twitching like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it. The next kiss landed on the bridge of his nose, soft and playful, and the one after that trailed down to the corner of his mouth.  

"Okay, this one’s holding up really well," you remarked, leaning back to evaluate the results. You laughed softly at the kaleidoscope of lipstick stains that now adorned his face—a collection of reds, pinks, and purples, each mark a testament to your experiment.  

"Sol?" you prompted, tilting your head as you noticed his unusually quiet demeanor.  

He blinked again, his gaze focused on you but far away.  

"Hello? Earth to Sol—" You waved a hand in front of his face, but before you could finish the thought, his hand shot up, gently catching yours mid-wave.  

You froze, startled by the suddenness of the movement and the look in his eyes—smoldering and uncharacteristically intense.  

"Huh…" you trailed off as he guided your hand down, his fingers curling over yours in a firm but careful grip.  

"Enough," Sol murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.  

Before you could process the shift, he moved. In one smooth, almost predatory motion, he pressed you back into the couch, his weight pinning you against the cushions. Your back hit the fabric with a soft thud, and his hands found your wrists, holding them gently but securely above your head.  

"Sol—"  

"You're impossible," he said softly, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His dark hair fell messily into his eyes, and his gaze burned with something raw, something that made your chest tighten.  

You stared up at him, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts as he leaned closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The space between you felt impossibly small, the room charged with a quiet intensity that neither of you dared to break.  

"All those kisses," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your cheek as his lips curved into a teasing smirk. "And you still act like you’re in control."  

Your heart raced, the world outside the living room forgotten entirely. "Sol, I—"  

But his expression softened, his grip on your wrists loosening slightly. "I think," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "it’s my turn to test your limits, pumpkin."  

Oh shit.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

It’s one of those crisp afternoons, the air just cool enough to send a slight shiver down your spine as you sit on a bench by the archery range. The college campus is quiet, with students scattered here and there, but your attention is entirely on him—Geo. 

The archery field is his domain. He doesn’t know it yet, but you’ve got a plan that will catch him off guard.

Geo stands tall at the center of the field, adjusting his posture with precision, his focus entirely on the target in front of him. The sun casts a soft, golden light across his pale skin, making his aquamarine eyes seem even sharper. He’s dressed in a simple, black, form-fitting athletic shirt, paired with tight-fitting cargo pants that hug his long legs. 

His boots are rugged, the kind that make him look even more intimidating as he stands tall and composed. His hair, dark bluish-purple, is tied back neatly in a low ponytail, the bowl cut framing his face in a way that makes his expression appear even more brooding.

Despite his best efforts to look aloof, there’s something about him that calls for attention. His movements are deliberate, almost as if he knows he’s being watched. You lean back slightly, pretending to be absorbed in the scene but really just observing him, thinking about the plan you’ve hatched.

Geo pulls his bowstring back with precision, his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he takes aim. Everything about him is calculated, a display of discipline honed through years of practice. You bite your lip in anticipation, then grab the lipstick from your bag, uncapping it with a soft click. The color is a deep red, the kind that will stand out against his pale skin. You’ve decided: it’s time to throw him off just a little.

You stand up quietly, making your way to where Geo is, and as you approach, your heart beats a little faster. The air around you feels charged with the quiet energy he exudes. Geo is too focused on the target, his fingers inching toward the release. You take a deep breath, then step forward just as he releases the arrow.

Before he can even blink, you lean forward and plant a bold, quick kiss to his cheek, the lipstick leaving a bright red mark against his pale skin. The sound of the arrow shooting through the air fills the silence as you pull back, watching the surprise flash across his face.

Geo’s eyes widen for the briefest moment. He freezes for a split second, just enough for you to see his cheeks flush under his usual stoic exterior, the pale hue quickly warming to something deeper. The arrow he released flies off course, landing just beside the target rather than hitting the bullseye as it usually does.

He’s caught off guard.

You step back slightly, a mischievous grin on your face. “Missed it,” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Geo’s gaze shifts to you, his expression darkening. His lips part, and for a moment, it’s like the weight of the world shifts. "What the hell?" His voice is low, his tone not entirely angry, but certainly perplexed.

For someone who’s always so controlled, so composed, you’ve definitely managed to make him lose that edge. He quickly recovers, wiping his cheek with his sleeve, and for a second, you wonder if you pushed him too far. But then you see the slightest tug of a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t do that again,” he warns, but there’s no heat in his words—just that familiar sharpness that seems to be his natural state. It’s clear he’s still processing, but you can tell this little moment has left its mark on him.

You smile back, not backing down. "I thought I’d get your attention. Looks like I did."

Geo shakes his head, his smirk growing as he nocks another arrow. "You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into," he mutters under his breath, but you can hear the playful challenge behind it.

Despite his usual brooding demeanor, you can’t help but notice the slight curve of his lips as he prepares to take another shot. It seems that, for once, he’s not quite as untouchable as he wants everyone to think. You can feel the tension in the air as Geo reaches for another arrow, but you’re already plotting your next move. The excitement bubbling inside you is hard to contain—this is more fun than you thought it would be.

Geo draws his bow back again, taking aim with the kind of precision only someone like him could master. But before he can release it, you lean forward just enough to interrupt his concentration, tapping his shoulder lightly with a teasing smile. 

“What now?” he asks, his voice as gruff as always, though you can detect a hint of amusement hiding in his eyes. “You want me to miss again?”

You shrug innocently. "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see if I could make you blush again." You let the words hang in the air, watching as his expression shifts. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a moment, you're convinced he’s actually considering the idea of doing something more than just shooting arrows.

Geo takes a deep breath, clearly trying to regain his focus, but before he can, you lean in—this time, a little bolder. You press another quick kiss to his neck line, leaving a fresh red mark on his pale skin. And just like last time, he freezes—eyes wide, jaw slightly ajar.

The arrow that should’ve been heading for the bullseye instead veers wildly off course, missing the target completely and burying itself in the grass.

You burst out laughing. "Not so precise anymore, huh?"

Geo whips his head toward you, eyes narrowed in something between surprise and irritation. “Are you trying to sabotage me?” he growls, though you can see the amusement hiding behind his scowl.

You’re still laughing, clearly enjoying yourself far too much, and that’s when Geo decides to do something about it.

With a swift motion, he reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can step back, his fingers tightening around it just enough to stop you from making any more cheeky moves. You stare at him, caught off guard for a moment—he’s not known for being touchy, but here he is, holding you in place.

"Alright, enough of this," he says, his voice suddenly less gruff and more playful, though his eyes still carry that glint of challenge. "If you think you can distract me with kisses, you’re mistaken."

You grin up at him, unfazed by his grip on your wrist. "Oh? Then you should’ve seen what happened when you missed your shot," you tease. “I think the whole campus heard your arrow crash into the grass.”

Geo rolls his eyes, but the faintest smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. ��Don’t think this is over,” he warns, his grip on your wrist tightening a little more, though it’s more playful than threatening. "You’re gonna regret this, trust me."

“You sure about that?” you quip back, your voice filled with playful defiance.

Geo raises an eyebrow at your defiant tone, clearly weighing his options. For a second, you swear there’s a flicker of something almost... fond? It vanishes just as quickly, replaced by his usual broody persona. “I could have you running laps around this field by the end of the day,” he threatens, though his eyes are twinkling with the unmistakable sign of a challenge.

“Make me,” you shoot back, tugging your wrist free from his grasp just enough to push your luck a little further. 

Geo chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

“Yeah, all for you~” you tease, throwing him a wink.

Geo doesn’t acknowledge the comment, but the corner of his mouth lifts just a little higher this time. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Despite the gruff exterior, you’ve managed to ruffle his feathers just enough to see a side of him that’s not all business. 

And honestly? 

You kind of like it.

As you step away, pretending to give him space, you can feel his eyes on you. You’re not sure if he’s still trying to figure out what the hell just happened or if he’s plotting his revenge. 

Either way, you’re all in for whatever comes next.

Geo steadies himself, the bow string pulled taut as he lines up another shot. But the second you lean in, it’s like the world goes into slow motion. You can see his shoulders tense, his jaw clenching slightly as you get closer. He knows exactly what you're doing. His grip tightens on the bow, and for a split second, you think he might just let the arrow fly—into the target this time.

But before he can fully focus, you press a soft, teasing kiss to his bottom jaw again, the lipstick leaving a fresh red print. 

Geo’s eyes snap wide open in surprise, his finger twitching against the bowstring. “You—” He cuts himself off, trying to maintain his composure, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him, his pale skin turning a shade darker. The arrow in his hand nearly slips from his grasp as he blinks in confusion. 

You pull back just enough to see his expression, a mix of shock and that brooding intensity you’re so used to. His lips twitch, a barely-there smirk playing at the corners, more like disbelief?

However there’s something else in his eyes now—something... tempting.

"Alright," he growls lowly, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, "You want to play that game, huh?"

Before you can even react, he’s closing the space between you, his hands gripping your wrists with surprising tenderness, pulling you in with a quick, deliberate motion. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s more intense than anything you expected. The rush of warmth from his lips against yours sends a little shock of electricity through you, and your breath catches.

Geo’s kiss isn’t soft or tentative. No, it’s like he’s trying to make a statement—daring you to say something, to break the moment. You feel the pressure of his lips, firm and demanding, and you can tell he’s not just kissing you for fun anymore. There’s something deeper in it now. The playfulness has shifted into something a little more heated.

You’re breathless when he pulls away just enough to speak, his voice husky, dark with amusement. “Now you’ve really done it.”

You blink up at him, dazed from the sudden shift in his demeanor. “I didn’t think you’d actually kiss me back, especially on the lips” you tease, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heat crawling up your neck.

Geo doesn’t smile—he just stares at you, eyes dark with the challenge of it all. His hands still rest lightly on your wrists, but now they feel heavier, almost like he’s holding you in place. “You should’ve known better.”

Before you can reply, he gently lets go of your wrists, his gaze lingering just a little longer than you’d like. The air between you two is thick now—charged with the energy of the moment, and there’s a sense that things are about to get even more complicated. You’ve managed to crack his icy exterior, but you’re not entirely sure what that means for either of you.

Geo turns back to the target without another word, grabbing another arrow. His focus is entirely back on the bullseye, but there’s an undeniable smirk on his lips now. And the way his fingers curl around the bow, steady and sure, tells you that this game is far from over. 

“You missed your shot earlier,” you say playfully, “Think you’ll actually hit the target this time?”

Geo shoots you a look over his shoulder, a glint in his aquamarine eyes. "Watch me," he mutters, before losing the arrow. 

It’s a perfect shot—dead center. He doesn’t even flinch as the arrow hits the target. 

“Well, damn,” you say, impressed. “I guess I’ll just have to distract you more often.”

Geo doesn't respond at first, but the smirk that pulls at his lips says it all. "Keep trying me, and you’ll see," he murmurs a warning, almost to himself. 

And just like that, you realize—he enjoys this more than he lets on.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[nightingale-prompts]

(Ooo, I love it. You did great. Harvey is complex and I'm still learning too.)

Living a double life isn't easy. Sure, he isn't running around doing petty bank robberies these days despite what his Associate wants. Harvey has been keeping up a good image with a few backroom deals. No better than any other lawyer in Gotham. He placates his other half with plans to kill Batman as it is still his nature to destroy order as he is chaos.

But one thing he knew that would improve his reputation is to take a page out of Bruce's book. Take in a ward. The bonus was that the teen is just like him. A matching set. A two of a kind. A perfect match.

Just like he liked it.

His new ward was guarded but he was offered a fair trade. He helps Harvey with what he needs the boy for and the boy gets room and board.

"You're not some rich fruitloop, are you?

He beared his sharp canines at Harvey be fore his face softened.

"We don't like being around rich people."

Harvey laughed.

"Me neither but their money is good. I'd say wealthy, but not rich. Enough that you will end up in private school whether you want it or not."

"He sure complains a lot." The voice of his Associate rang out internally.

After a few weeks of waiting and paperwork the (not actually) orphaned Danny was now Danny Dent or Double D as Harvey called him. Danny hated the nickname and the amusement it gave his adopted father.

Danny wasn't even surprised when Harvey was revealed to be a bad guy. It wasn't the first time a crazy rich guy wanted to adopt him. At least Harvey didn't want to kill his dad and date his mom. Harvey wasn't obsessed with him either and preferred to leave him to his own devices while he worked.

At least Danny wasn't nearly important enough to be on TV like the Wayne brats.

Harvey even gave Danny his own set of goons to order around when he took off that prosthetic and let his Two-Face persona out. Danny felt almost jealous how liberating it must have been.

Call it misguided but Danny helps Two-Face when he decides to hold up the Gotham art auction. It was money laundering anyways and Two-Face promised Danny a hefty allowance. But Batman had to show up and stop them. Sure, it was robbery but it's the rich, they don't count. They steal all the time and they aren't killing anyone.

It ended up being a face-off with Robin who was definitely surprised to see him.

"Who are you?" He questioned between blows.

"Call us Twofold." They said.

Twofold as in twice as great. A sort of jab at Two-Face but even that monster couldn't help but laugh when he heard it.

"Twice as great? You're just in two. You have to prove to me you deserve that name but I'll allow it. For now."

The heist went well and Penguin now had a nice collection of art to fence for them. The Dents get the money and none of the risk of holding the art. Harvey wasn't willing to stain his reputation with Two-Faces actions and warned Twofold to do the same.

"Be nice. Keep your other half quiet today. We are meeting with the Waynes today."

"Those brats?"

"Yes, Bruce has been my friend for many years and we will keep it that way. These may come a time we're you will find the Wayne children helpful to your career."

"And kiss their ass?!"

"Don't argue with us!"

"Sorry, mister Dent. We'll nice. Promise."

"I know YOU will but keep the other under raps, even if they make you mad."

"Fine, but if they call me Double D I'm punching them."

"Don't say that. We need to be nice. Just tell them to stop."

"But it's more fun to hit them."

Harvey ruffled Danny's hair. He guessed he could understand Bruce at least a little. A kid was at least entertaining.

After Image AU- DCxDP prompt

"Do you hate me?" He asked rolling to face Danny.

"No." Danny said simply "Go to sleep."

They had found shelter for the night, it was only temporary though. It was an old abandoned church next to a cemetery.

"But it's all my fault."

"Hush. Hating you would be the same as hating myself."

"They could have separated us."

"That would have killed us both. I may not like sharing a body but we are meant to stay together."

Danny knew they were wrong. That's what happens when your conciseness was split in two. One remained alive the other dead. They had the same memories and emotions but they were so different. The other's logic just diverged when it came to ghosts vs mortals. More then that neither knew who was the original. If there even was an original. Maybe the Danny from before no longer existed and the split made them imprints of what was no longer there.

Now they were Danny. They both had to believe they were the original. Because if they weren't...what were they.

But after everything that happened at least they weren't alone.

"We ruined everything"

"We survived."

"I miss them."

"I'll protect us."

That's all that matters anymore. Survive.

They weren't heros or villains. They were just victims of a situation they couldn't change. They had to figure something out soon though. Gotham was their best bet so far. If there was anywhere where they could live normally it was here. They disagreed about how to do it though.

"Being a goon for a bit might get us enough money."

"And what? We won't be able to get out and who's going to hire a 16 year old?"

"Plenty I bet. What is your plan then?"

"Maybe join the league. We have powers and-"

"And what? Study us? Separate us?!"

"You don't know."

"You don't either."

So who could they go to? They looked like they were nothing more than a homeless mentally ill teenager. Talking to himself wasn't helping his case. At this rate they'll end up at Arkham.

[potchi-fics]

note: no smut LOL IM SORRY, I GOT HOME AND I FELL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH CUS IM SO TIREDDDDDDD YALL THIS IS ALL I GOT, THIS IS ALL I GOT. i cannot even fathom how i managed to write this (not proofread, ill do it when i wake up pls meow meow) this is the part two of playing with fire

      the twitch of your eye portrays the frustration seeping through you, the paper in your hand greatly souring your mood. you do not know how many hours you have been hunched over your desk, but the soreness in your shoulders and the glasses slipping on the bridge of your nose tell you.

something isn’t right with what you’re seeing; the numbers, dates, even the signatures are incorrect. you straighten your posture, your weight leaning on the elbow of the hand you’re using to hold the sheet of paper, your hair falling into the frame of your face, and your other rubbing your chin in deep thought.

“arden,” you called out to your assistant beside you, “who did this sloppy of a paperwork? i thought i made myself clear about doing work proficient–”

      you’re cut off when the door to your office is suddenly opened. you mask your surprise when you see her, ambessa medarda. 

she has a scowl on her face; her stare is full of anger, the tips of her fingers turning white with how hard she’s clenching her hands.

“never learned of knocking, general? and i believe our meeting is set for next week.” you look back down to the paper, doubt still gnawing in the pits of your stomach, “i also believe that i did not summon for you. what brings you here?”

      she all but growls, but, she doesn’t know if it's due to her anger or… you—the appearance of you: your posture, your tired-looking face, the skin of your legs from the split of your dress; a goddess is what you are, she thinks.

she savours the image of you before her. however, without even sparing her a glance, you spoke.

“general, speak.”

instantly responding, she baffles you with her words, “the supposed resources that are to be delivered to me have not reached me, your majesty. what is the meaning of this?”

“pardon?” you motion to arden to leave, bowing to you, she quietly leaves, “i am afraid i do not know what you are saying, general.”

ambessa walks a step closer, “this will put a strain on our contract, your majesty, i hope you are aware of that.”

“general, i am fully aware.” a hand takes your glasses off, and you lean back on your chair, eyes closing at the feeling of your back stretching. “on the other hand, i do not know what you mean when you say the shipment has not been completed.”

“i do hope you are not playing dumb, your majes–”

“i can assure you, general, i am not.”

      how she loves riling you up. how your fingers twitch in anger, your eyes scrutinizing her, knowing how powerful she is and yet, you hold your ground. she loves all of it.

ambessa reveled in it.

“apologies for the inconvenience, general,” ignoring her smug look, you stand up, and walk around your desk to show her the papers, you beckon her over,  “come. take a look at this.”

she does, nearing you until you start to feel her figure looming over you. “sloppy paperwork, your majesty.”

“do not even get me started. that is filthy.” you spread the sheets on your desk, ignoring how the proximity is sending warmth to your abdomen, “look, something is not right, correct?”

she leans over your shoulder, and a soft exhale emits from you, “correct, your majesty.”

“what’s worse is not only did this happen once, but thrice.” you can feel your anger bubbling over, “three times. someone has been stealing from me, selling it to others. i will take care of everything, general. see to it that the shipment will be delivered soon.”

ambessa made no move to back away, “hoping to dismiss me so quickly, your majesty? here i was thinking you’re finally softening up on me.” she pressed on, her breath hitting the back of your ear, “i must say, that does hurt.”

“need i remind you of your so-called thoughts about professional entanglements, general? i am starting to think you want me to break them.” your eyes close, the heat on your abdomen traveling down, pooling between your legs. “oh, you would love that, won’t you, general?”

you let out a shaky breath when you feel her hand on your stomach, your back pressing against her front, her nose slotting it behind your ear, smelling the fragrance you sprayed, “so innocent for a bold little lamb.”

“mhmm,” the hum vibrates your chest. you raise your right arm, your fingers grazing her cheek, then burying them into the back of her head, pulling her head down slightly, and you push back against her to whisper into her ear, “you aren’t exactly subtle, as well, general.” 

      she could destroy you with the strength she has, she could tear you into pieces by pieces. you focus on her body, on her bulging muscles, her long fingers, and her firm-toned stomach.

your thoughts run wild; you would take everything. ambessa places a kiss on the side of your neck. this is wrong. both of you knew that, but why aren’t you stopping? 

you give her more access, and her kisses leave a fire in their wake, from your jaw to your pulse, pecking it over and over again, you scratch her scalp tenderly in appreciation. she grabs your hand that’s on her head, manhandling you to turn you around.

you peer up at her through your eyelashes, eyes parted and your breaths shallow. your neck and cheeks are flushed. ambessa was no better: her irises darkened, she was breathing heavily, and she looked like she was holding herself back from doing something. 

her palm gently meets your cheek, her thumb running along your bottom lip, “i am far from innocent, ambessa.”

      and she is spiraling. she nudges herself between your legs, forcing you to sit on your desk. her hand is now grasping the whole side of your neck, with her thumb now tracing along your cheekbone. she needs to hear you say her name again. she yearns for you to utter out her name once more.

“say it again.”

“ambessa.”

      she leans in. she’s a mere millimeters away when a knock stopped her. you gently push her away, hurriedly fixing your appearance. she could only grit her teeth, her gaze was fixed on the door, fury evident in her eyes.

if looks could kill, the person on the other side would be dead.

you clear your throat, you soothe out the creases on your dress, “come in.” 

“your majesty, general,” arden greets, “i dug around, asked around, too, and i found out who did those papers, your majesty.” you nod for her to keep going, “it’s holloway.”

your gaze snaps to her, a deep frown mars your expression, “lieutenant holloway? but why? where is he?”

“at the docks, your majesty.”

…

the soles of your boots slam down against the pavement, your mood beginning to turn bitter once you spot the man you’re looking for, “holloway.” he turns around and quickly meets a fist to his face. “what have you done?”

“yo-your majesty,” he crumples to the ground, holding his bleeding nose, he spots arden and the warlord behind you, “what–what’s happening?”

“you have been stealing from me,” the blade of your sword is pressed dangerously against his throat, “and the general. have you got no shame and brain? you have put my–OUR nation in danger. let me ask you again, what have you done?”

“our nation? oh please, i’ve been making much more money than you.”

“is this what it’s about? money?” your sword hovers, “you would risk an entire nation for money? you would betray me, your queen, your empress, for money? you are easily bought.”

he shouts, “and you are a whore. a whore for that slut of a gener–”

with a swift slash, you cut off the hand that’s holding his nose. blood spurts and bursts out of the now stump, “mind your mouth, holloway. if it is i you wish to speak ill of, do it. however, if you dare to insult the general, then that is simply a foolish thing for you to do.”

      ignoring the blood gathering at your feet, or some of it getting on your dress, you turn to your army of men who are watching.

your gaze cold and dead, you point at holloway using your bloody sword, “make the same mistake and i will ensure that you will hold a much worse fate.” you walk to him, grabbing him by his hair, dragging him to kneel in front of the general, relishing in his screams and whimpers, “apologize.”

“in your dreams, bitch. i’m not apologizing to this slu–” 

“holloway, you are beginning to test my patience.” grabbing his head once more, you force him to look up, “apologize.”

      she has never seen this side of you. this ruthless and unforgiving side of you sends tremors to her hands, weakens her knees, and dries her mouth and lips. 

the fire never left ambessa and it is spreading throughout her body, it’s burning and uncomfortable.

“fine. have it your way, holloway. hold him down.” you call out to your men, and they seize him by his arms, legs, shoulders, every part of him, “you brought this upon yourself. hold out his tongue.” knowing what you’re about to do, he thrashes in their holds but it’s no use. he begins to plea, escape, anything. “i have given you your chances, holloway. accept the consequences.”

      only his screams of terror and agonizing pain can be heard, his screeches making the birds flock away, his blood staining the ground, creating a puddle.

he looks at his hand and tongue in horror that is dying on the floor, and then up at you, only to be met with hollow ones—lifeless eyes of yours that are like staring into an abyss of darkness. you cover his mouth, your hand squeezing his jaw, adding more pain.

“a hand for stealing, a tongue for disparaging remarks,” you shove him away, not caring that his blood is on your hand, “run.”

      you turn around just as he takes off, clutching his hand to his chest, looking around wildly as the men he used to order around are looking at him with disgust in their eyes.

you bow your head to the general, “i must apologize for all of this mess, general. i… stay for a little while i assort your shipment. i will have my men board your resources to your ship.” you turn to look at the retreating figure in the distance. “kill him.”

     a bang ends your day at the docks.

…

“my, my, what a wonderful sight that was, your majesty.” ambessa sipped her tea, her legs spreading as she sat, “didn’t take you for a killer.”

crossing your legs, your silk dress, now having changed, riding up, “i have done worse, general. much worse things that would make yours look like a child’s play.”

      she raises a brow at you. though her stare quickly travels down to your legs, openly looking at you, from your legs to your thighs, all the way up to your chest.

absolutely no shame, you think to yourself, smirking slightly. this woman is a piece of art, her skin, her stature, her scars. and then you remember how she felt like when pressed against you. her solid frame, how her presence can engulf your being, it suffocates you.

yet you want more.

“your majesty, i doubt that. i have killed everything that stands in my way.”

you hum, your eyes raking over her form, “that, i don’t doubt.”

      you wonder how it would feel to be underneath her, holding you down from moving, to force you to take everything she will give you. unconsciously, you squeeze your thighs together.

ambessa notices. 

“it seems like we were interrupted earlier, no?” her voice drops an octave. 

      you bite your lip. your action spurring her on. she can’t help it anymore. all these playful banters, the tension, it’s too much for ambessa. you are too much for her. 

maybe it’s time you let yourself indulge.

“i believe so, yes…” you take it yourself to move and sit on her lap. in the blink of an eye, her hands are on your thighs, rubbing smooth circles and slipping under your dress, “would you like to continue, ambessa?”

[lostinlovingrevery]

He's Definitely Obsessed With You (Series)

Origins! Logan X Fem!Reader

Plot: You're an army nurse, deep in the trenches of the Vietnam jungles, doing everything you can to keep yourself together, and the infantry that come into your tent. One day a soldier you aren't familiar with is brought in, and you find out something about him that leads to the start of an important relationship between you both that changes the course of your lives together...

A/N: This is basically the plot of Origins, but with my own spin on it with a Fem!Reader! This is my first time EVER writing an X reader, so comments appreciate! I plan to make this a series, but I wanted to put out a prologue first. Okay, it's not really a prologue and more like a chapter, and ended up being super long because I started writing and then didn't stop, and prologues are short- but IT'S MY STORY AND I'LL CREATE MY OWN RULES. The prologue is just how reader and Logan meet! (PS, there's eventual smut...Soon as I figure out how write it without getting embarrassed) Also, I'm still figuring out how to format on Tumblr, so please don't mind any funky design choices. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes somewhere in there

Warnings: Reader POV only (for now) Reader is female, also an army nurse, also a mutant- but powers aren't specified, blood mention, medical stuff talked about (like amputations), injury descriptions, Vietnam war and slight politics mention, probably a lot of historical inaccuracies i just googled things but I tried! implied reader could be religious but honestly there's nothing concrete to that. The only description of reader is her clothes and that she has hair, and wears makeup (lipstick). Reader has a hard on over Logan (she has a cruuuush), let me know if there's anything I missed!

Word Count: 4753

Series Masterlist

Prev<- ->Next

Prologue:

Rain rapped lightly along the top of the large tent, creating a soothing sound throughout. A radio, playing an american music station, played a rock song, of some new band slowly making a name for itself, sat nearby on a metal cabinet. Stacks of manila folders and papers were disorganized and spread, almost completely covering a desk. A clock ticks rhythmically. The tent was lined with cots, tables, ratty mattresses, IV stands, and small tables covered with empty food trays, water canisters, and paper cups filled pills. Some of the beds were taken up by injured men, snoring and groaning as they attempted to sleep, only slightly more comfortable here in the medical tent than out in the muddy, rainy trenches. It was monsoon season in Vietnam, and you were at your wits end with paperwork in the middle of a small but-not-that-small camp, set up not far from an American fire support base.

You were sitting at the desk, half asleep as you attempted to fill out another request form for medical supplies. Halothane, Methoxyflurane, Morphine, Penicillin - are common medicines that you find yourself constantly having to restock. Of course bandages, gloves, needles, saline, tubing, multiple surgical supplies, other things you find yourself low on often too, considering the amount of amputations, large and minor, that happen around here. The medical tent that you currently reside in was a revolving door of soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, as well as nearby villagers who come for aid after the American presence near their homes led to viruses they can’t combat on their own, or other unfortunate injuries if war breaks out in their village. 

You were simply an army nurse, this was not your usual duty to perform, it was normally left to the assigned doctor of the camp. Your job was to assist the doctor, take care of the patients, administer medicine, IVs, change bandages, wet baths, feed them, and hold their hands as they cry for their momma and to God. You were busy enough, and the doctor, Doctor Frank Jones, who you were assisting had got shot by a stray bullet when out in the jungle, and had to be taken back to the main base, and back to the States. Due to a communication failure, his replacement ended up somewhere else, and transportation wasn’t an option due to the fighting happening.

 Fortunately, Doctor Jones had seen potential in you and believed you would be an excellent doctor one day - something you wanted to pursue after your service was fulfilled. He became a mentor, helping you study and learn medicine, and giving you skills that an average nurse- even an army nurse- wouldn’t usually have. Now, it was just up to you, and a few young army medics - teenage boys who were given no choice in going to war, and their skills were found best in assisting injuries on the battlefield, but they were eager to help, and their light-hearted jokes and company helped relieve some stress for you, especially with the pain you watch day in and out. You didn’t always have the luxury of their help though, as when patrols went out, they required at least one of them to join. It leads you to have to order around other grunts who have no idea how to even measure the proper dosage of cough syrup for themselves whenever a serious injury comes in, having to give detailed orders on what to do- usually just getting you the supplies and medicine you need, as the grunts are typically too distracted and upset over their fallen brother to assist you in anything medical and complicated. 

With being the only medical authority in the camp- as well as the only woman- you were well respected and popular. Your compassionate personality, and comforting presence, as well as your “Take-no-shit” attitude, led to soldiers of this camp visiting you all the time, usually making up excuses like having a cough, or a splinter in their finger, just so they could have the pleasure of your smile and encouraging words. The CO here made sure that they all treated you with respect, as a woman- and a nurse, so you never once felt unsafe- or unappreciated. Besides, a good section of this camp is young boys, too nervous about their situation to worry about trying to flirt with a woman like you. You're more of a comfort figure in these parts than anything else. Despite the stress and worry you face in day to day life, in the middle of the war, you were just happy to be doing something. You weren’t exactly a supporter of this war, but the moment you saw young boys lining up to go to war, something in you made you fiercely determined to follow, and do whatever you can to make sure those boys can go back home to their mothers and fathers.

The Rolling Stones was now playing on the radio, this was a band you were more familiar with - one of your favorites. Your foot tapped to the beat of the song, as you checked off another item you needed to be stocked up on- and hoped the supply chain doesn’t hold out on you again. For some reason, they seemed convinced that you must surely be lying about the supplies and will not send you the full amount of what you requested, leading you to storm into the CO’s tent on more than one occasion and rant to him with a few unsavory words about the supply lines commander.  He always listens though, and does his best to get you what you can- which you can appreciate. 

“Hey turn that up-” You heard one of the patients call out, and she smiles, reaching to the radio and turning the volume higher. She looked up from the desk to see one patient in bed moving his foot with the beat of the song, and the other, who asked her to turn it up, raised his arm in the air, hand in a fist as he rocked with the song. “This is a good one, hadn’t heard this one yet.”

“It came out in 65’ dumbass.” the other called out. “How’d you not know it?”

“I’ve been here since 64’ asshole! Think we always had access to a radio?”

They all chided each other, making you laugh as you shake your head, turning back towards your paperwork, determined to finish it today so you can send it out. It was rare you get these moments of quiet, so you appreciated it when you could. Things could turn on a dime in a second, especially since the fighting was getting closer to where this camp was set, and you’re hoping that you would get some help before anything serious came. You were just starting to get absorbed in the letter you were writing to the CO of the supply line, something slightly passive aggressive, when one of the soldiers yelled to you from outside. 

“Hey! Nurse! There’s some guys coming this way! They got someone injured-” 

You looked up, dropping your pencil, and turning the radio down as you readied yourself, brushing the pants of your army fatigues to straighten it out, and rolling your sleeves farther up your arms. You watched as the flaps of the tent get pulled open, as two men carry someone resting on a cot. You didn’t like how quiet the man was being.

“In here-” You lead them to another section of the medical tent, ment solely for treating wounded, in an attempt to keep something sterile and clean- well, as clean as you can get it. The soldiers set the man onto the table that sat in the center of the room, small trays and medical supplies, as well as a large overhead lamp that provided lighting to give you a better view at what you’re working on, surrounded the table. 

“We got ambushed on patrol, fortunately he’s the only one that got hit, a VC jumped out of the grass and stabbed him. We got pressure on the wound, and he’s still alive- for now.” 

You nodded as you went to a basin to pull on some sterile gloves, and walked over to examine the soldier. He was handsome- you couldn’t help but noticed but quickly put that out of your mind. A full head of deep beautiful brown hair, and a thick beard framed his face. He looked older, possibly in his mid 30’s. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as his teeth were gritted and eyes cinched shut in pain. A wave of sorrow hit you, as you never liked seeing people in pain, it hits you bad enough to wonder why you chose to go into the medical profession of all things. Nevertheless, you push through, and began working on removing the uniform so you can see if you can save this one. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Whats his name?”

“Logan ma’am. He’s Private First Class.”  The private responds, voice professional, but quickly drops into something softer. “He’s a good guy, and smart, usually quick on his feet, its surprising someone ambushed him…” 

“Need any help ma’am?” The other private who brought him in ask.

“No, I got it, thank you.” You tell them as you grab some sheers and began cutting through Logan's army garments. “Just make sure others are alright. See if any of the boys out there need water.”

They nodded, saluting- leading you to roll your eyes- and left your section of the tent, just as you manage to cut off the white wife beater he was sporting underneath his army garments, giving you a complete view of where he had been stabbed. You breathed a small sigh of relief, the wound appeared in the part of the torso where nothing vital was located and you managed to roll him to his side- seeing the stabbing didn’t go straight through, meaning this guy had a good chance of surviving, assuming he doesn’t succumb to infection…

“Alright Logan,” You turned you head to look at the man, who was still tense, eyes squeezed shut. He was somewhat awake, with his breathing and the way his muscles contracted, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on, you still felt it important to talk to whoever you were treating though. You had to hold the hands of many scared soldiers, and quickly have learned the right things to say when comforting. “I’m going to take care of you, and in return, you’re going to need to be strong for me here.” You say softly but firmly to him, hoping that he’s hearing you through the pain, as you went and quickly grabbed a wet cloth out of a basin nearby, squeezing out the excess water, and gently placing it over his forehead, in order to soak up some sweat, and provide some more comfort to cool his skin that seemed to be burning hot. You couldn’t help but note that you don’t recognize him- you wouldn’t have forgotten his face that’s for damn sure, if he’d ever came to visit you, which most privates in this camp has at one time or another. You shook the curiosity out of your head, you had to move quickly, fighting the urge to wanting to take in the details of his face- his very handsome face, and moved to focus back onto the wound on his torso. 

You started by slowly removing the packed bandages, examining the blood flow to make sure nothing gushed, but he really wasn’t bleeding much anymore- actually, it didn’t look like he was bleeding at all now. Confused, you began cleaning the area of the stab wound so you could get a clear view of what you were looking at. At first, you thought you were losing your mind, you had to been because what you were seeing…

It was as if the skin was growing back, the wound, going inwards seemed to almost pop out, before the skin stitched together, going through what the bodys usual healing process would look like- except doing it within a matter of seconds. Turning from a bright red inflamed wound, into a baby pink scar bump that slowly faded off, you couldn’t even tell anything had happen there- except from the blood stained around it. You were blinking in disbelief, mouth slightly agape, before it suddenly occurred to you what you were just seeing.

Oh

Oh shit-

He’s a mutant.

You looked at the man, who’s muscles seemed to be relaxing now, as he took deeper breaths, the sweat on his face began to dry and disappear. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, you’re so used to every minute counting to fix someone, and this guy just healed himself in seconds!

And by god, he was so handsome. You thought that already, got to stop thinking about that. Turning away from his face, you went to examine where the stab wound used to be, gloved fingers gently pressing on the area- before the soldier- Logan, practically yelped- and sat up rushed on the table, startling you even more so than him, as you jumped back, hands in the air in surrender- as if you did anything wrong.

He was panting, the cold wet cloth you had placed on his forehead fell into his lap, as he looked around with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, he almost looked animal-like in this state. He turned to look at you. His eyes took you in, and suddenly you felt embarrassed by your army clothes you were sporting, green cargo pants, and a green collared button up shirt, tucked into your pants, making you feel less than girlish in them, despite their comfortability, your forehead was covered in sweat, and your hair pulled back in a bun neat bun with baby hairs sticking out everywhere. At least you had lipstick on to give yourself a little bit of a pop in your plain looking outfit. That should be the last thing you should be worried about. 

“You’re okay-” You finally found your voice, holding your hands out to him, “You got ambushed, but you’re okay now.” 

He blinked, then let out a small sigh, his whole self seeming to relax, his expression turned more human-like, as he faced forward, then looked down at himself. His hand went over where he had been hurt- seeing that there was no longer any injury there, although something in his expression told you he could still feel it. He swallowed, jaw tensing, before realization struck him, and his head snapped to look at you. 

“You saw- You know, don’t you?” He asks, his voice was deep, but sounded a little dry and scratchy. Still, it was enough to make your knees weak. 

You turned, going to a cabinet that held medicines and various other supplies, but on the counter was a pitcher of water and a few glass cups. Pulling off your gloves, you poured a cup from the pitcher, turning back and handing it to him. 

“Yeah. I saw.” You say cooly, holding it out for him to take. He looked at you, his deep and should you think gorgeous hazel eyes felt like they were piercing your soul; as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head, which you wish you knew as well because his stare was making your brain fuzzy; then glanced at the cup and finally took it from your hand, your fingers brushing together, making your heartbeat just a little faster, and you could feel a small heat blooming in your cheeks.

Jesus christ, pull yourself together 

You thought to yourself. You cleared your throat while he took several swigs of water, dropping his hand with the cup to his side as he took a moment to breathe once more. 

“Got anything stronger?” He asks, his low and smoother now, quirking a brow at you. You smiled, 

“Sorry, anything alcoholic you may want to drink in here, I gotta save for the guys who can’t heal themselves within minutes.” You say teasingly. “Supplies are low enough already.” 

You could see a small quirk of his lips, in something resembling a smile. He was still tense though, his eyes seemed to be somewhere else. He looked at you again,

“Does it…scare you? Me being a mutant?” He asks, his voice low

“Um….No?” You responded, confusion on your face, a small shake of your head, “Why would it?” 

He seemed relieved- and surprised by that answer, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he took another drink of water, eyes closing as he finished the cup, and handed it back to you, where you set it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he sat up more confidently, bending his leg as he brought his knee up to his chest, and propped his forearm over it, and leaned back on his other hand, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his head down, then looked back up at you, his expression suddenly stern.

“You gonna tell them?” He asks. You knew he was referring to the army. Mutants weren’t well accepted in the world- much less the US army. The American government is actually sitting comfortably in the capital and writing out bullshit laws on mutant regulations, rather than trying to figure out a solution for the war here in Vietnam. You, a mutant yourself, albeit your powers were easy to hide and conceal, you still feared of a day that someone somehow discovers your secret. You’ve heard stories of American soldiers revealed to be mutants being killed, due to some bullshit excuse that they “lied” about who they were, and couldn’t be trusted. Whether those stories were true or fearmongering to keep mutants hiding their true identities, you didn’t know, but you certainly weren’t gonna find out yourself. You definitely wouldn’t put another fellow mutant, just trying to survive like you, in any sort of danger like that, even if he could probably just heal if he got put in front of a firing squad.

You pursed your lips together. Then smiled. “No. I’ll keep your secret.” You say. “All it means to me is that I have one less person to worry about around here. I was actually wondering why I hadn’t seen your face in this tent yet before, and now I know why.” 

He softened at that, but his face quickly fell back into something more serious and stern once more, which you’re starting to think might be his baseline. 

“You okay?” You asked, your voice was soft, and sweet, and borderline angelic for a man like him, who’s been in wars almost his entire life- which you don’t know about that. “That probably didn’t feel good, what happened.” He nodded. 

“M’ fine….Thank you.” He grumbles lowly, looking down at his hands. “I heard about you- actually I-I seen you around. You’re the only nurse on camp?” He asked, looking back up at you, there seemed to be a bit of curiosity in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty popular.” You say, in a teasing voice, blushing at the thought that he’s noticed you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you are quite literally the only woman around, save for the women in the village not far from here.  

“Must be busy.”

“Oh… Nah-” You playfully wave him off. “Some days are so slow, I’m actually bored.” You say matter-of-factly, but you both knew you were kidding. Another quirk of his lips. You smiled softly at him, but there was a voice in your head telling you, that since he doesn’t need your help, you should probably get back to helping the ones who do. Not that you want to leave, he was so damn handsome, you could stare at him all day. It wasn’t just his good looks though, his whole self drew you in with just a few words, and you find yourself wanting to get to know Logan, because the look in his eyes told you that he was someone worth knowing. Or maybe that was just your hormones talking. There was just this energy between you both, some type of unseen connection. His eyes trailed down you again, this time fully taking you in, stopping at your chest, and for a moment you were about to be completely turned off by this man being a pervert, but he nodded towards it. 

“Your necklace?” He asked. You looked down, oh, you thought to yourself. You pulled the string of your necklace, lifting the small coin that it held, string carefully wrapped around it so it doesn’t fall off.

“It’s a prayer coin. A priest gave it to me.” You explained. “It’s the archangel Raphael. A protector, patron saint of medical workers, like doctors, nurses.”

“Like you?” 

You nodded. He examined it, before you tucked it back under your shirt. You usually keep it hidden, but it must have fallen out while you were rushing. Now it was silent again, and you both weren’t sure what to do or say. 

“Well….” You took a breath, you glanced down at his abdomen, and suddenly your brows creased in concentration. 

“What?” He asked, by your sudden change in demeanor. 

“You can’t exactly walk out with no injury. Those two privates were pretty worried about you.” You say, putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips together. You clicked your tongue.

“I can figure something out-”

“No no-” You held your hand up and looking around the room. “Those privates brought you in, there’s probably an incident report written right now, not to mention I have to write a report on your injuries too-” you explained. “I mean, how are you gonna explain it if you walk out, completely A-okay?”

Logan shrugged simply. “I can think of something, it isn’t the first time this happened.” You rolled your eyes. Men. 

You rather not waste bandages on a pretend injury, but you need someway to get his injury to look believeable, thats when you spotted your answer. His white tank top that you had drop to the floor, it was good enough to wrap around him, making him look as if he’s been all fixed up from his stab wound. The shirts cotton texture looked similar to the pattern of a bandage, and was good enough, especially considering no one would be looking hard enough at his wound anyway.

After a few minutes of “fixing him up” with your solution to keep his regenerative abilities a secret, you stood back examining the fake bandage/shirt that you tore up and wrapped around his torso, using bandage pins to hold it in place. Then shrugged. 

“It’s good enough.” You say. “You’re not going anywhere anyway, so it’s not like you’ll raise a bunch of questions. It looks like you have an injury, it’ll match the incident and medical report. You won’t get found out.”

“I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow. 

“Nope. You were injured, which means I gotta keep an eye on you. So you’ll be sleeping here, and you’ll have to pretend you’re in pain, whining and moaning and all that. Give it your best performance.” You encourage. “Take it, not many around here get a chance to get a break like that.” 

He looked at you, pondering what you were offering him- well, you weren’t offering, he was going to have do it because you weren’t gonna risk him revealing himself as a mutant, which for some reason you were now more concerned about than he was. A small smirk appeared on his face, “That mean you’ll be waiting on me then, hand and foot?”

You smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself soldier.” You say teasingly. “You can stay in here a little longer, rest up, maybe shed some tears to make it look like you’re suffering tremendously.” You added a little flair as you brought your hand up to your forehead, pretending to faint, before turning and walking away to leave the room, now knowing you really needed to get back to work.

“I don’t think I need to shed any tears.” He mutters, but there was amusement in his tone though. “Hey bub” He called after you as you were about to leave the room, lifting the tent flap, but you stopped to look at him. “Why are you seen keen on helping me out? Making a plan to make sure people don’t find out what I am…Seems like too much trouble to go through for you.” He frowned. 

“Well…” You dropped the flap of the tent, “Us mutants gotta stick together, right?” Logan looked surprised at first, eyes widening a bit, and jaw slacking, but then a soft, genuine smile stretched across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaving you thinking that was a smile you never wanted to go without again. Smiling back at him, you winked, and turned back before stopping and looking at him again, “Plus, you seem worth the trouble.” You add, before finally leaving him to himself.

Maybe it was too much trouble. You could leave Logan to figure it out himself. You two didn’t know each other, you weren’t friends. Yet you, the compassionate self you are, and also slightly bull-headed, was not going to leave Logan hanging alone. Maybe it was the fact that you were both mutants that urged you to help him, let him know that someone like him out there has his back, even if he had many brothers at his side watching his back too. Or maybe it was because you felt an undeniable pull towards him- and him towards you. 

While he stayed in the medical tent with you for about a week, the standard time for stitches to stay in. While staying, you both got to know each other better. You found a deep friendship with Logan quickly, both of you having an understanding of each other, not just as mutants but as individuals as well. You were able to laugh, usually at his snarky remarks to the other privates and even his comments to the higher-ups, surprising you in how he likes to occasionally challenge authority despite how quiet and reflective he can be some moments. You saw him as brave, smart, and he was protective, always going first in patrols, and keeping an eye on the younger privates. He’d hid it well, rarely making it seen, but he had a compassion that made your heart swell, especially when you came across him comforting a young private who was homesick and scared. He had a good instinct that seems to attest to his mutation- which he later revealed the full aspects of it to you later on, claws and everything- which did nothing but fascinate you, leading to a full acceptance of him he hadn’t felt or seen in a long time. He’d visit you in late nights when he wasn’t assigned guard patrol, bringing you something to eat or drink, and you’d both quietly talk about your lives, and how’d you ended up there. He listened to you complain about the lack of supplies, and how you got into medicine in the first place. You’d learn of his brother Victor- another Private First Class there at the camp, who you quickly learned a distaste for after meeting him, and how old they both really were- leading you to bombard him with history questions, that he simply answered “I wasn’t there bub.” There was an unspoken yet mutual physical and spiritual attraction between you both, but before anything could have gone further in your relationship, down in the thick muddy jungles of Vietnam, you suffered a similar fate as your mentor Doctor Jones. A stray bullet having shot through your shoulder while you were out, attempting to help a young private who’s leg unfortunately got caught in a dirt trap. You were okay, but orders sent you home on a medical discharge, saying you fulfilled your duty to the States. 

You missed Logan, and you also found yourself struggling to find your place back in civilian life again, the stress and the trauma of the things you saw weighed heavy in your mind, not to mention the worry you felt over Logan's safety while he was still over there. The only thing easing your worries was the letters you wrote to each other, until one day his letters stopped coming, and your own got returned back to you with no explanation, leaving you in fear of the worst….

[spidercatweb]

Post-case Bedtime Story ★ Spencer Reid x reader

first fic!! im so scared! but i really like this so i hope other people do too :)

Warnings: none! this is fluff, gn!bau!reader, no y/n, second person pov, in my mind Spencer and reader are already dating in this, i imagined s2 glasses reid while writing, verb tense probably switches but idc, i also wrote most of this while half asleep so...

Word Count: 704

Description: Reader is sleepy on the jet after a case and has a cute little moment with Spencer :)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated! 💜

The past week had been long, tiring, and incredibly stressful. For everyone on the team. You would think that after five restless days of tracking down an unsub, the others would want the same thing as you, some peace and quiet, and sleep. Lots of sleep. But apparently not everyone had the same idea.

As the jet peacefully glided through the quiet night sky, Emily, Derek, and JJ sat in the seats around the small table. Not so quietly discussing their plans to go out for drinks when they got back. Surely, Garcia would want to go as well, she would enjoy her friends being back after so long and would most likely try to convince the rest of the team to tag along as well.

Hotch and Rossi sat in the back corner, Hotch tiredly flipped through the case file, determined to finish his paperwork before the jet landed so he could assure as much time spent with Jack as possible before the team was called out again. Rossi silently sipped some whiskey while doing crossword puzzles in a book he carried around in his go bag.

Spencer was sat on the small couch, sitting with one leg crossed over the other and a book in his lap, his messenger bag on the floor infront of him. You were sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sitting cross legged with your feet up on the couch. You lightly rested your head on his shoulder, angling yourself so that you could at least try to read his book along with him, even though he was flipping the pages too fast for anyone to keep up with. You weren't sure, but you think he may have started to slow down his page flipping just a little bit when he noticed you trying to keep up with his reading pace.

After a while, Prentiss and JJ had both fallen asleep, while Morgan was listening to music with his headphones, staring out the jet window. Hotch had finished the paperwork (or given up on it, you werent too sure) and was "just resting his eyes", Rossi was passed out with his arms folded over his chest, empty whiskey glass on the table beside him.

You felt comfortable. You cozied up to Spencer a tiny bit more now that most of the team was distracted enough not to notice. Putting the full weight of your head on his shoulder and loosely locking an arm with the one of his that was closest to you.

He still flipped the pages of his book every few seconds, though he neared the end. He looked down and scanned your tired expression, your eyes were half closed but a faint smile could still be seen. You liked being close to him like this. The corners of his mouth slightly curve upwards as he looks at you. "You know you're allowed to sleep, right?" he whispers. "Mm, I was waiting for you to finish your book so we could talk." you reply, looking up at him. "Oh, you could've just interrupted me, I wouldn't have minded. What did you want to talk about?" He replies, feeling a little guilty that he was the reason you hadn't gone to sleep yet.

"Nothing specific, I just like talking to you." You smile at him. "And we've only talked about the case for the past few days, I want to talk about something not so gross and scary." Spencer huffs out a small laugh and returns your sweet smile. "Well, you do look pretty tired. I could read to you if you'd like? I wouldn't mind if you just so happened to fall asleep." he suggests, gently nudging you with his elbow. "That would be nice, actually." You reply, nodding while still leaning on his shoulder.

For the next five minutes, Spencer quietly reads to you from his book, picking up where he left off while reading to himself. His voice served as a reminder that he was still there, even if your eyes were closed. Another five minutes pass and you're fast asleep, leaning against him, his arm locked with yours. He continues reading though, hoping that his voice keeps you in a calm, restful sleep.

thank you for reading! <3

please let me know if you enjoyed!

[eggcompany]

Between Buddies

Viktor never enjoyed touching himself. He attempted to go through the act of 'jerking off', all boys liked to make himself cum. Except him. He just couldn't make himself feel that way. Jayce, his best friend, however, often and fruitfully made himself orgasm. And spoke about it without much care. So when he offered to give Viktor an orgasm, just to chill him out a bit, Viktor let him. He trusted Jayce, and he had heard the rumors girls spread, and the stories Jayce gloated about. It was Jayce after all, and Viktor always got a little warm under the collar around him anyway.

“Sorry, I was jerking off.” Jayce said as he ran a few minutes late to meeting Viktor for a coffee. Their usual meeting was a relaxed event, but he always apologized when late. 

Viktor had just gotten off of work, the library was a good job, not too tiring on his leg. Gave him enough time to walk to their coffee shop and get settled by the time Jayce arrived too. 

Viktor turned red and huffed, rolling his eyes as his cheeks got warm. 

“Don’t be crude. I ordered for you anyway.” Viktor said as Jayce got settled in their usual corner seat, under the vent, so Viktor could stay warm. 

“What, like you don’t?” Jayce said and rolled his eyes. He was always more open about his sex life and personal matters than Viktor ever was. It usually took more than a few drinks to get him comfortable enough to talk about his own person. Jayce never understood it. 

“I’ll have you know for a fact, that I do not. Now can we please-” Viktor said and tried to pull out the paperwork he wanted to talk to Jayce about, a blueprint he had been working on that needed an engineer’s eyes. Jayce cut him off though. 

“What do you mean you don’t? I mean I know you don’t like… jerk off jerk off but you’ve gotta get off. You’re still just a dude.” Jayce said skeptically. Viktor wasn’t shy about his gender, he didn’t bring it up or talk about it, but if you asked, he’d tell you. Or you walk into the shared bathroom at the lab they both take night classes at and you catch your, assumed , male best friend with a bloody hand and a wrapped up pad getting shoved into the trash can. And assume he hurt himself without telling you. And get lectured about menstruation and learn way too much about your guy best friend with a vagina. 

But he was still a guy . Guys jerk off, guys like making themselves cum. 

“Jayce. I don’t. I never have. Now can we please -” Viktor cleared his throat and his face got hot up to his ears. He didn’t like talking about it because he didn’t know enough about the subject. 

“What do you mean you never have? Don’t? You don’t jerk off?” Jayce asked incredulously, voice getting louder with every question. Viktor hit him in the ankle under the table with his cane, shushing Jayce, raising his hands up to try and cover his mouth. 

“I mean come on Viktor, you can expect me to believe that. You’re twenty three, you’ve got to have had at least a couple orgasms.” Jayce said as he sat back against his chair, slapping away Viktor’s hands. He sipped at the glass of water Viktor had for him already. He relaxed against the cushion on the seat, relaxed. 

“Jayce, I can’t and I don’t know how, so can you please drop it.” Viktor said, exasperated, as the waitress came to drop off their plates of food. Jayce gave her a smile and a wink before digging into his usual burger, extra ketchup, no pickle, no mustard. They’d been friends for long enough Viktor knew Jayce’s order at every restaurant they frequented. Jayce knew his too, mostly because he got the same thing if possible. 

“I mean, I could show you. It wouldn’t be a big deal, just a… thing between buddies.” Jayce said nonchalantly as he sipped at his drink and wiped his mouth on his napkin. Like it was something normal to say. 

Viktor froze over his salad, staring down at it, grip on his utensil tightening enough to leave marks in his palms. 

“Jayce, don’t say ridiculous things.” Viktor said, voice serious but wavering. The thoughts that suddenly flooded his head were…unsteadying. 

Jayce looked at him, eyes catching for a moment before he shrugged and went back to eating. Viktor’s hands shook a bit as he ate the rest of his meal. 

The meal was silent, just eating in silence until Jayce stood up, stretching before going to pay their tab. The only sound for the next few blocks was the clack of Viktor’s cane on the sidewalk and the heels of Jayce’s boots thunking out of rhythm as they made their way toward Viktor’s apartment.  

“I wasn't joking about it, Vik. If you want, I could show you. At least get you off once, just to help you chill out. It’ll be good for you.” Jayce said calmly as they walked, easy going and not a hint of teasing. He said it so sincerely, like when he offered to carry Viktor when he had bad pain days. 

Viktor got a lump in his throat and his face got darker red. He kept walking but let himself bump into Jayce, agreeing silently.  

Viktor didn’t say anything, there were other people on the sidewalk. He could say something so crude, he wasn’t like Jayce. He didn’t say goodbye and part ways with Jayce like usual, letting the other man follow him to his apartment. 

As soon as the door closed Viktor huffed. Jayce was alway at home in his ground level apartment, Viktor leaned against the front door. 

“If your offer is a sincere one, do you promise not to laugh at me or make fun of me if I fuck it up?” Viktor asked seriously, voice lower and twinged with anger. Jayce smiled, that soft look on his face as he kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket on the rack nearby. 

“Viktor, I've been your best friend for years now. Trust me.” Jayce reassured and reached out, giving Viktor’s arm a squeeze. He looked so honest, eyes true and genuine. 

Viktor swallowed looking at his best friend. Best friend . Handsome, smart, tall, buff, perfect best friend. If they were going to do this, if he was going to do this, he would be in the best of hands. He knew for a fact the amount of girls who praised Jayce to the heavens. 

“I trust you. I don’t… know where to start.” Viktor said, shoulders slumping in defeat. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad. So many nights grinding on stuff just to feel more amped up. Fingers, a pillow, the shower head, everything he’d tried nothing… nothing got him there . Wherever there was. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever orgasmed on account of he didn’t know what it would feel like if he had. He didn’t like not knowing, he didn’t like being ignorant. 

Jayce hugged him, pulling their chests together. Viktor did always like Jayce’s affection, his big warm body offering soft lasting comfort. Jayce rubbed his hands up and down Viktor’s back, playing with the bottom of his sweater and the tails of his button up underneath. Viktor let his hands settle in the small of Jayce’s back, resting his head against the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’ll take it slow, V. I’ll make it good for you, promise. Let’s go get you in bed. First step, get nice and comfy.” Jayce explained, voice quiet. Viktor could feel the words as they rumbled from his friend. He took a breath in, just inhaling the rich scent that followed Jayce, manly and nice. He nodded and took Jayce’s hand in his free one, walking together to his bedroom. 

His bedroom was how it always was. Neat and tidy, mess everywhere else, nothing on the floor. He set his cane down by the door and moved to lay down on the bed, but Jayce stopped him short, standing face to face beside the bed. 

“Let’s get you out of these slacks. Gotta have access.” Jayce said breathily as he undid Viktor’s belt, flicking open his buttoned pants. Jayce looked down, almost hiding the way his own face was rosy red, from the tips of his ears to his neck. 

“I want to… to keep my shirt on.” Viktor said, holding onto the bottom of his button up, not to exactly cover him up just to… feel more secure. Not so looked at. Jayce nodded with a soft smile and let go of Viktor’s pants for a moment, the heavy fabric wanting to drop to the floor by itself, Viktor holding it up for the moment. 

“Well, I’ll even the playing field, and I don’t really wanna get stuff on this shirt.” Jayce said as he lifted his own nice long sleeve shirt up and off, baring his thick muscles. His broad shoulders and thick arms, his strong chest and carved torso, his dark nipples and dusting of hair. 

Viktor looked at him, something stirring deep in his gut, the same one that happened most of the time he spent with Jayce. He pushed his own pants down, his white underpants going down with them, over his socks, before he toed those off too. Was wearing socks while… doing whatever this counted as weird? Was he supposed to wear them? 

He stood there in his sweater and button down, they hung down enough to cover the tops of his thighs, and his leg brace, metal and glaring against the snow white expanse of his skin. Jayce leaned in, lips against Victor’s temple, just sharing warmth for a moment before he spoke again. 

“Lay on your back, get comfortable.” He guided, a hand grazing up Viktor’s side. Viktor didn’t move, suddenly there was far more warmth than there had been before. Jayce was so… and he was so close and warm and they were doing something so….

Viktor blinked a few times before nodding. 

He didn’t look at Jayce as he laid down on his back, moving to grab his blanket and stuff it under his sides, trying to get comfortable on his back. He usually slept on his belly, all his pillows and blanket just so because he didn’t wear his braces to bed. But with the brace on, he just tried to get comfortable for the moment. He laid back, head on a pillow, legs straight out, feet together, shirt still down but rucked up enough to show himself. 

He couldn’t look at Jayce knowing he could see what was between his legs. Jayce knew he was trans, but that didn’t mean he knew knew. And no one had ever looked down there at him. Especially not the way Jayce was looking at his body, eyes full of something animalistic, something… deeper. 

“Viktor…. I can’t get my mouth on you like this.” Jayce teased, voice deeper, more gravelly as he knelt up on the bed. He smiled as he playfully poked the bottoms of Viktor’s feet, getting him to move his legs, spread them out over the bed. His hands guided them more open, flat on the bed but spread wider, really showing what had been hidden. 

“Yo-your mouth? What do you mean your mouth?” Viktor asked as he sat up a bit, legs bending on the bed, knees picking up a little. His mouth? Oral? That wasn’t masturbation, that was not jerking off. Jayce gave a sharp smile, leaning forward so Viktor would fall back onto the bed. 

“It’s my specialty, the one way I know for sure I can make you cum. Don’t worry. It feels good, trust me.” Jayce said, settled back between Viktor’s spread ankles. Viktor swallowed his nerves and laid back down, watching Jayce as he gently spread his legs apart enough to fit between them, laying on his belly on the mattress. His eyes were trained on Viktor’s pussy, hunger, that’s what filled his eyes.

“Just breathe Vik. Breathe through the whole thing. Tell me if you feel like an attack is coming up.” Jayce said with no judgment in his voice when he noticed how Viktor’s chest stopped moving. He watched Viktor breathe, measured practiced breaths, mentally making a note of his inhaler on the bedside. 

“Okay.” Viktor said finally, settling into the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Jayce was looking at his genitals, half naked in his bed, about to make him have his first orgasm. This was fine. It was Jayce, it was fine . 

Jayce ran his hands up and down the insides of his thighs, closer each time, following his hands until hot breaths were blown over the brown hair that covered his rosy prize. 

Viktor let out a shaky breath as he imagined what Jayce was seeing. He could feel the wetness starting to stick to him, he knew it was red and plump down there. He didn’t know if it looked okay, if it looked correct, if it was what Jayce had been expecting. 

“It’s good, you’re good. Now just put your feet… yeah up here on my shoulders. You can push me away if you want, you can just put your weight into me. You’re gonna wanna move, wiggle around, don’t hold back. Alright?” Jayce explained as he moved Viktor’s legs, picking them up so his feet were resting on his shoulders, knees up high up, spread open under him. Strong shoulders pressing against the backsides of soft thighs. His hands slid down the outside of his legs, resting low on his stomach, big rough work worn hands laying before his brace, resting against soft spotted skin. 

“Yeah- okay.” Viktor breathed out and reached down, grabbing onto Jayce’s hands. Jayce smiled and pushed Viktor’s shirts up, out of the way of any mess, just past his hands. He stayed there for a moment, just holding his hands, their eyes caught together. Jayce had a hot look in his eyes, one that made Vik clench up, made his stomach kinda fluttery, a wave of heat coursing through him, head to toe. 

“Do you want me to make you cum even if you tell me to stop?” Jayce asked, breath hot, each word cresting over Viktor’s wet folds, damp hair, making him shiver. His toes curled against Jayce’s warm skin, hips shifting to shy away. 

That made Viktor pause. Did he? Did he want to scream stop and for Jayce to keep going? Was that… Would he want to stop? Was it going to hurt? Was it going to be so overwhelming he’d say anything, but… be worth it? Would it be worth it even if he screamed? He was willing to take that chance, it was Jayce . He’d never do anything bad. 

“Please.” Viktor whispered, eyes watching as Jayce took a second to consider before easing down to press a kiss to his mound.  Viktor gasped, tensing, flinching away as he grabbed onto Jayce’s hands. 

“Just relax, don’t watch, just feel it.” Jayce said, voice deep and low and gentle. His eyes, dark and dilated, were still holding Viktor’s. 

Viktor took in a shuttering breath and forced his muscles to relax, his legs, his stomach, all the parts below. This was fine. This was between him and Jayce and nothing else. This was just… between buddies. Between them. 

He eased back down against the bed, looking up at the ceiling, forcing his lungs to take even, measured breaths. He didn’t let go of Jayce’s hands, just relaxed, letting them rest together, still touching. 

“Ready?” Jayce asked, lips pressing against his mound. Viktor nodded, closing his eyes as he blew out a shaky breath. He kept his eyes closed as he felt all the new sensations. Jayce’s warm breath coast over him, the warmth of his hands, the plush muscle of his shoulders, how steady he was. 

And then there was something so smooth, gliding between his lips. Warm, wet, weirdly textured, flat and wide as it traced from the start of his slit all the way up, one motion. Viktor let out a sound, something he’d be ashamed of if he thought about it. It was strange, as it happened again, the slow, smooth motion over his hot flesh. It was… nice. 

A shock rang through him on the fifth go through, a shock making his entire body jump as that tongue found his clit, circling it languidly a few times before lips sealed around the bundle, softly sucking. 

“Oh! O-oh” Viktor moaned out, shiver cracking down his spine, eyes rolling back as he melted into the bed. It felt good . Incredible, electrifying, startling all at the same time.

He could feel Jayce’s face against him, suddenly aware of every single inch that touched him. 

It was slow, just like Jayce had promised. Viktor sighed, light moans flowing from his lips as Jayce’s warm, sure tongue moved against him, around his hole, hitting nerves that felt almost tickly, up to his clit that was more shocking and sharp, it felt like Jayce was dissecting him, taking him apart with every lick, every suckle. Viktor noticed his scruff that was rubbing against his outer lips, the insides of his thighs, his mound. It was all the more stimulating. 

He was soaked, he could feel the way Jayce’s face was getting slick and messy. It was… it wasn’t overwhelming. It was so arousing, it was pleasurable, it felt good. It wasn’t too much. He didn’t wanna say stop. 

Jayce hummed, a pleased little noise, only a little, and Viktor moaned. It was like a rattle had shaken through his center, a vibration tingling his nervous system. He kept breathing, making sure to do what he was supposed to. He didn’t want to mess up, just holding Jayce’s hands against his own belly and breathing. 

“Alright?” Jayce asked, pulling back, a string of slick connecting them together. Viktor looked down, relaxing as he saw how red Jayce’s face had grown. 

“Ye-yes. Very alright.” Viktor said, a smile breaking out on his face as he realized it was going alright. It was okay. It wasn’t scary or overwhelming or negative. It was fantastic. His Jayce was giving him this, like a gift, and it was perfect . 

“Good. I’m gonna go a little deeper now.” Jayce said, smiling back, giving Viktor’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Viktor breathed a big breath out and settled back onto the bed, hips moving a bit to get comfortable again before nodding. 

Jayce’s face pressing into him. His tongue was back, pressing deeper into him, swiping over his hole with purpose. Pressing against it and then running over it before finally, finally, pressing in . 

Viktor let out a choked noise, hands clenching up as his thighs shook on either side of Jayce’s head, trying to close, broad shoulders keeping them spread. It was tremendous, not painful or overwhelming but… tremendous. Dizzying as nerves stretched around forgiving muscle, as scruff was sharp and brush-like against his inner lips, spiked hitting nerves head on, body spread out on his own bed. 

Jayce kept going, tongue rolling across him before dipping back in, kissing him there, soft lips on Viktor’s soaked opening. It was a building pressure, boiling up under a sealed lid, making his muscles jump and give away at the same time. 

Viktor didn’t realize his nails were digging into Jayce’s palms, heels pushing down onto his shoulders, that his hips were twitching and grinding against Jayce’s face, dragging his clit against his nose with every jerky thrust. Viktor was panting, noises being pulled from his chest, pressure was getting to be too much. He felt soaked, thighs shaking, he felt almost raw, not in a painful way but in a seen way. It was getting too much, sweat was growing on his brow and his head was getting light and heavy at the same time. 

“Jayce- no- no, no, no, ah! I’m gonna gonna-stop! Stop!" Viktor cried out, his abdomen clenching and unclenching, spine rising from the bed before slamming back down. It was too much, the stimulation making him feel breathless, making his whole middle ache. The pressure was overwhelming him, drowning him in the air. He felt like he couldn’t move, couldn’t get away, couldn’t get close enough either, it was agonizing. 

Jayce pulled back only for a second, only slightly, eyes blown as he glared up at Viktor. 

"You're almost there. Just scream and let go, you're so fucking close, Vik." Jayce rumbled, voice coming from somewhere deep in his chest. It made Viktor whine, mind so numbed he was sure he couldn’t make words if he tried. Viktor shook his head against the bed but laid back down, letting Jayce dive back in. 

Jayce didn't hold back, pressing his face in tightly, diving into lap at Viktor's hole, moving so his nose rubbed up against his clit at the same time. He kept going, unyielding as Viktor struggled under him. 

Viktor couldn’t hold still, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. He was sure he wasn’t actively in his body, it was so indescribable. He didn’t know if he was doing what he was supposed to, but he couldn’t control himself. It was like being pushed under rushing water and being shocked with pure electricity. 

And then it was like reemerging from the water, feeling the current around your body, the electricity through gloves, tingling and bright. Like pure relief, when medicine hits the pain in an instant. Fresh air after working in smog, exhaustion and elation escaping from every pore. 

His heart was racing, and when the ceiling finally dialed back into focus, his eyes started to work again. He was shaking, a headrush making him a little dizzy as he just laid there. He blinked and realized he was crying, tears making his eyes feel puffy and wet. It was like he was sitting in a puddle of himself, emotions rushing through him. It was overwhelming, scary even. He could feel the rivers of tears that had slipped down the sides of his face making his hair wet.  

“‘Ayce?” He asked into the air, the first letter getting hung up in his throat. Then there he was, Jayce warm and solid, study and dependable, against his side. Jayce wrapped him up in his arms, nestling him against his chest. Viktor just focused on relaxing, to get breath back into his lungs as his brain slowly came back on. 

“Did I do it?” Viktor asked, brain at half power as he looked up at Jayce’s face. So handsome, he thought dumbly. Jayce smiled and nodded, a hand rubbing over the bone of Viktor’s hip. He cocked his head to the side and gave Viktor a strange look. 

“Yeah. You did it. You made a big mess, you didn’t notice?” Jayce asked as he looked down at where he’d cleaned Viktor up with a washcloth from the bathroom before cleaning himself up. 

Viktor slowly followed his eyes and looked at himself. He didn’t see anything. He reached down, shaky hand going between his legs to press against himself. He yanked his hand back, hips jumping away, sparking flying that made his stomach hurt. 

“I came.” Viktor said as he relaxed against the bed, catching his breath once again. Jayce huffed a laugh and gave him a squeeze. 

They laid there for a while, Viktor just breathing, Jayce petting over his hips, thighs, and nuzzling into his hair. Viktor was in between sleep and awake, enjoying the bone deep feeling that soothed his soul itself. It was magic, feeling so content, so satisfied. It was unexplainable. And it was all because of Jayce. 

Jayce. 

“Do you want… a handjob?” Viktor asked all of a sudden, making Jayce burst out laughing. His big laughter, the one that shook from his belly, the one that cracked through the air like sunshine itself. Viktor stared at him, enjoying that sound. 

“No, no Vik, I don’t want a handjob. I came when you did.” Jayce said between giggles, looking at Viktor with a sort of… fondness. It made Viktor’s face get hot again. And then confusion flooded him, Jayce was jerking off when he was… No, because Viktor never let go of his hands. 

“How?” Viktor asked and Jayce sighed, sitting up, putting some distance between them as Viktor sat up too, suddenly very aware he wasn’t even wearing his underwear, pulling his undershirt down to cover himself. Jayce stretched his arms and yawned, absentmindedly scratching his chest hair. 

“I like giving oral. I was rubbing against the bed mostly though. And when you came, you screamed so loud and you taste so good, I came in my pants.” Jayce explained, a sparkle in his eyes like he was delighted. Like it was a fond memory, something he’d cherish later. 

Viktor felt a twinge in his gut, and his head felt hot. He rolled over and cuddled into his bed, pretending like he wasn’t cold and still wet between his legs. Jayce hummed and pulled at the blankets, yanking them out from under Viktor before covering them both up, big spooning behind him. 

“Are we gonna do it again?” Viktor asked as sleep fell heavy on him, warm in his home. Jayce nodded and wrapped his arms around Viktor, hand laying on his still nude belly. 

It was nice. Whatever this was. Just between buddies. 

AUTHORS NOTE-

I was inspired to write this by some art I saw on bluesky by the incredible flowerzips! On bluesky their @ is 'xip' but I believe it is also on twitter under 'FlowerZips'!!

I linked the art and showed it in the original AO3 posting on my account. Please go love them, they make incredible Jayvik art, and more!! Love them so much their art rocks my world!!!

[wandasboy]

For Her Attention

Pairing: Profiler!JJ x gn!reader

Word count: 2,200

Warnings: Top!JJ, bottom!reader, dom/sub dynamics, gn!reader, afab!reader, smut, daddy kink, degradation, strap-ons, fingering, spanking, possessive behavior | 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: You made a mistake in testing your girlfriend, but she is all too happy to teach you a lesson.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I'm sorry if it sucks. Proofread by cthulhus-curse

JJ was sitting at her desk, frustrated with the amount of files spread about and paperwork piling up. She was at the Bureau late in the night, which wasn't uncommon for her. If anything, she liked to get all her work done before coming home as a means to relax without thinking about what lied ahead tomorrow.

Multiple texts had been sent to you throughout the day, but your responses stopped two hours ago. This was adding to her frustration considerably. She had clear rules about communication, especially if you were going out. As it was a Friday night, she knew you would likely be at a club or bar-hopping, something she was fine with as long as you kept your location on. However, the little dot signifying your presence still said you were at one of the clubs you frequent, the position unmoving. She felt herself grow hot at the thought of you in possible danger and her not being able to help.

After shooting a quick text off to Emily, JJ refreshed your social media feeds for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping you'd have posted something indicating where you were. Although she was worried, she was also angry, already thinking of your punishment for being so careless and not adhering to her rules.

~~~

You had already had a few drinks, going back and forth from your booth to the dance floor. Your friends had been begging you to do another shot with them, but you refused, saying you'd had enough. When the shots came around, you noticed there was one extra, to which one of your friends exclaimed it was 'meant to be.' You rolled your eyes, telling them you couldn't come home belligerent again – your girlfriend would be pissed. They shrugged you off, continuing to enjoy the loud music and flashing lights.

Although you had been enjoying yourself, upon speaking of your girlfriend, you immediately felt a twist in your stomach. After the first club you went to, you had decided to leave your phone in the car, as you didn't want to hold it, and had no pockets. A stupid idea on your part, as you knew the clear guidelines she had about you going out. She wanted updates on how you were, where you were, and who you were with. You had given her none of that, as your phone was currently sitting in your friends' car, four blocks away. Knowing you'd already be in for it upon getting home, you chose to stay. After all, she had been working late all week, coming home once you were already asleep, then leaving early in the morning before you woke. Sometimes acting out was the only way to get her attention, so you did just that. Walking back over to the booth where your group was, you took a breath, grabbing the last shot, proclaiming you were ready for the shot now.

As you danced, you felt the guilt slowly slip away, your head feeling light and buzzed from the alcohol. You laughed and bumped against both friends and strangers in the packed club. Feeling a breath on your neck, you heard your friend tell you, you had an admirer. Turning, you giggled, not believing him, until he nodded his head towards a woman leaning against the adjacent wall.

Upon catching her eye, your smile immediately faltered, heart dropping to your stomach. You saw her grin and raise her eyebrows before she started walking towards you. Her dark hair swaying as she walked. You curse yourself, holding your breath as she got to you. She reached out, brushing a stray hair away from your face.

"Someone's in lots of trouble." She said, looking down at you.

You opened your mouth, but no words formed.

She grabbed your wrist tightly. "Time to go."

You turned to your friend you drove with, who watched the whole interaction. "I'll get it to you tomorrow." You smiled at them, grateful for their understanding.

The brunette pulled you out of the club, as you struggled not to trip over your own feet. She opened her passenger door for you, shoving you in. The drive was quiet, doing nothing to ease the anxiety in your chest. Turning a corner, you frowned, seeing she was not heading to your home. As you pulled into Quantico, you finally understood.

She pulled you through the entrance, in the elevator, and to JJ's office, holding your arm the whole way. Without knocking, she opened the door to the office, making your girlfriend look up.

"Look who I found." The brunette pulled you into the room.

You bowed your head, avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you, Emily." She said, not taking her eyes off of you.

Emily leaned into you, whispering, "Good luck," before leaving, closing the door behind her.

You felt the blonde's intense stare, your legs shaking from standing perfectly still.

"Look at me." Her sudden shift in tone made you jump, her voice commanding and harsh.

You sheepishly looked up at her, "JJ, I—."

"I don't want to hear it. Come here. Now."

You quickly made your way around her desk, next to her, not wanting to anger her more.

"Look at you, all dressed up in that skimpy outfit. Were you hoping to get someone's attention? Went out to whore yourself out?"

"No! I—"

She grabbed you by your hair, throwing you down on her desk, your stomach pressed firmly against the cool wood. She stood, pulling your body back against her by your hair. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling something hard press against your ass. You wondered if she had been packing all day, or put it on when she knew Emily had found you.

"Is there a reason you disobeyed me? Stopped responding to me, turned your location off? What were you hiding hmm?"

You groaned as she ground into you, your hips digging into the desk. You felt her hot breath on your neck as she whispered in your ear.

"Such a filthy brat, you wanted to be punished didn't you?"

You whined as she rolled her hips into you.

"Answer me," she growled.

"Yes, daddy. I wanted your attention. I'm sorry. Please." You mewled, bucking back into her, seeking any form of stimulation.

She took hold of your hip with her free hand, stilling you. "Ah ah, brats don't get what they want, do they?"

"No, daddy."

Removing her hand from your hair, she dropped you, your front now flush against her desk. She moved her hand under your skirt, ghosting along your inner thigh. Your core tightened around nothing as she moved the pads of her fingers against your clothed clit. She continued to move her fingers, feeling how drenched you were.

"So wet. Did someone at the club make you like this, hmm?"

"No daddy, just you!" You squeezed your thighs together.

She hummed at your response. Stepping back, she pulled your underwear down, which you automatically stepped out of. You heard her belt buckle, realizing she was undoing her pants. Waiting for the feel of silicone on you, you flinched when instead, you felt leather.

"You didn't think I was going to reward you for bad behavior did you? Bad pets don't get treats. You're going to take your punishment like a good little slut, right baby?"

You whined, the sensation of the leather brushing against your skin too much to handle. "Yes daddy, please."

JJ sat down in her chair, in direct eyesight with your perfect ass and dripping cunt. She slowly glided her belt over the soft skin of your thighs, touching your mound, then back up to your cheeks. "You're going to get twenty. Count each one or I will start over."

You found yourself missing the feel of the leather, as it's pulled away. The seconds appeared longer as she made you wait before whipping her belt against your backside. You yelped, starting the count.

"Tell me why you're being punished." Another hit.

You bucked your hips, "Two! I didn't follow the rules ." Another.

"And how did you break them?" She landed three slaps in quick concession, making you yell out, rapidly continuing counting so as not to miss any.

"I didn't tell you where I was going, I left my phone in the car— seven!" You tried to catch your breath as the strength behind her hits became harsher. "Eight, nine," your hands gripped her desk, squeezing your legs together, trying to relieve the throbbing.

"What else?"

"I stopped communicating, didn't tell you who I was with, I was bad, I'm sorry daddy, please." You cried out as you near twelve. The skin on your ass sore and angry, the sting of her belt ever present.

"You think you deserve your punishment?"

"Fifteen! Yes, daddy. I was bad, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again, I promise."

"I hope so baby, you know how daddy doesn't like punishing you." She smiled, blatantly lying. She loved hearing you whimper and scream for her, seeing the red marks painted across your skin, proving her claim on you.

Tears fell down your cheeks, dripping down your chin as she delivered the last few blows.

She stood and scratched her fingers along your scalp after you scream, finally making it to twenty. "You did so good baby, took your punishment so well for daddy." JJ sighed, watching your body go limp, chest heaving and tear drops on the smooth wood of her desk. She rubbed her palms slowly over your ass, soothing the pain, then pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

Feeling you relax into her, she sneaked her hand around your front, sliding her fingertips through your slick folds. "Aw, did someone enjoy getting spanked? Such a naughty toy."

You moaned, desperate for relief. "Please," you quietly pleaded.

"Shh, daddy's gonna make it all better baby."

JJ circled your clit with her thumb, before pinching, eliciting a sob from you. She continued her ministrations, easing two fingers into you. She slowly pumped her fingers, stretching you. With each thrust, you started to feel that tight coil build up, wanting to break loose. She groaned, your inner walls clenching around her fingers. "So tight for me."

She turned your head to the side, kissing along your jaw, delighting in how you squirmed beneath her. JJ kept a steady pressure on your clit as she fucked you, massaging the sensitive spot deep inside you. "Gonna get you all ready to take daddy's cock, okay sweetheart?" She sped up, scissoring her fingers inside you, reducing you to a breathless and whiny, pathetic mess just for her. She watched as your knees buckled, which enticed her to harshly bite into the unblemished skin between your neck and shoulder.

She licked the spot she bit, soothing the pain as she removed her fingers, causing you to whine and shift your hips, seeking more of her touch. JJ unbuttoned her pants, pulling out her dark blue strap. "You ready for me baby?"

You pushed your hips back into her, "Yes daddy, please! Need your cock in me."

She brushed her strap through your heat, painting her cock with your arousal. With one swift move, she plunged into you, bottoming out.

A scream echoed in her quiet office. You thanked god nobody else was in the bullpen or surrounding offices. Although you had taken her strap many times before, you were never quite prepared for the stretch and sheer size of her. She grunted as she set a brutal pace, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. You loved when she left bruises and marks, it made you feel owned and wanted. You cried out with each thrust, as her hips slapped at the sensitive flesh of your ass.

"That's it baby, you take me so well, so good for daddy."

She reached around again to play with your swollen bud, never slowing her movements. You began to match her thrusts, relishing in the sensation of being stretched and used. She miraculously hit that spongy spot each time, building you up. Too focused on how your body felt on fire, you barely registered her lifting one of your legs up to pound into you harder. Lost in your fuzzy headspace, the only words tumbling out of your mouth were broken pleas and fragments of her name.

"Daddy, so close," you barely made out between gasps.

"Yeah? Baby needs to come? Go ahead, cum on daddy's cock. Let me see how pretty you are."

JJ's words were all it took for you to finally let go, coating her strap, the evidence of your climax dripping down your thighs and soaking the front of her pants. She eased you down from your high, before pulling out. She held you as your legs gave out beneath you.

Spinning you around in her arms, she planted kisses on your cheeks, forehead, and finally your lips. You felt yourself surrounded in her comforting floral haze, moaning into her kiss. When she finally pulled away from your lips, she moved to your neck, sucking a deep mark, sure to leave a bruise.

"Mine."

[thomaslittlegirl]

Hi author, I hope you are well. 😊

I discovered your writing recently and I am completely enchanted, you are incredible! Anyway, if you could write about Tommy dating a much younger girl, like 18/19 years old and completely opposite to him, smiley and completely shy (even with Thomas' family). I don't know, it just seems interesting how a young soul can captivate old Tommy. Stay safe and healthy. xo

hi love! i hope this is even a little bit like the idea you had in your head. im sorry for any grammatical errors, its 4am and my first language is not english. 😅🩷

opposites. thomas shelby

warnings; age-gap, just fluff (?

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if there was something that amazed thomas, it was definitely how opposite you two were.

he remembers the first time he met you like it was yesterday: it was a rainy wednesday in small heath. water fell mercilessly and the fog was so thick that it was difficult to see the city clearly.

he was leaving his bar when he saw you. your boots were full of mud as was the bottom of your clothes. he had noticed your purple lips and your almost imperceptible spasms due to the cold. it was fucking raining, and espite that, you had decided to go out.

thomas still remembers your beautiful light blue dress and believes that if he closes his eyes he can feel the fabric of the fabric on his fingers.

he had never seen you before, and if he had, he had not paid enough attention to you until that moment, that day where he saw the water soak your hair and your beautiful flower dress.

it was almost an automatic response from his body when he crossed your path and stopped you, wondering what you were doing alone on the street in those horrible weather conditions.

instead of freaking out like any sane person would have done, you accepted that a shelby offered to take you back to your house, claiming that it was dangerous for a young girl to be hanging around on a day like that.

he was surprised that you weren't scared, even knowing who he was and what he did. it seemed naive to him that you trusted his pure intentions so much and that was the first time he noticed the difference between you.

you trusted easily, something that he would not allow himself to do even on the last day of his life. a girl who loved colors, unlike him, the one who wore nothing but depressing grays and black suits.

you were sweet, kind, believed that everyone had a good part inside them; young and innocent... and that's why he could endlessly list the differences between him and you.

you were pure, not like him.

the good in the bad of his world, and he was the bad in the bad.

for him you were a breath of fresh air, something he didn't know he was looking for his whole life until he found you.

in the present, thomas looks at you from the desk; dried blood rests on his knuckles as he selflessly signs some papers.

his eyes can't help but wander over your body, noticing how that shirt you stole from him rests on your body angelically.

the older man watches you as you shyly chat with ada, nodding to everything the woman tells you even if you don't agree. always too peaceful to start an argument or demonstrate that your position was contrary to what was imposed.

the minutes pass and your legs move gently, bouncing non-stop on the floor, impatient. the man can read your expressions as if it were an open book.

time passes and when his sister finally leaves, thomas watches as you look at him with a sweet smile, walking towards his figure.

shelby already knows what you want and carefully pushes his chair back a little, just enough to move away from the desk and give you room to settle.

still smiling lovingly at him you sit on his lap, with your side against his chest. your legs swing gently again, searching for a comfortable position.

thomas, still serious, wraps his arm around your waist and continues with his paperwork. he feels you relax against his body and a smile appears on his face.

even without looking at you, he can feel your sweet eyes watching him tenderly, making him feel unworthy, undeserving.

a small, delicate hand rests on top of his, and he finally allows himself to feel that love in his chest when he feels the pads of your fingers carefully caressing his bloody and bruised knuckles.

neither scared, nor disgusted... simply understanding.

if there is something that amazes thomas, it is how well you complement each other despite being total opposites.

[i-dared-myself]

Tip Jar

Seonghwa x reader

In which a bored and overworked reader meets a sweet and kind idol

It was another busy day. Patrons bustling in and out of the doors, drinks being set down on the counter, and listening to order after order.

Dull.

That’s what your life was. Utterly dull.

Nothing exciting ever happened, not even an unusual order. It was always black coffee, or iced black coffee, and if you had to mix one more hot chocolate with extra whipped cream but no milk-

 Maybe it was time to quit your job. You hated it, and the pay was terrible. You were barely scraping by, leaning heavily into your savings because everyone tipped like shit around here.

“Hello,” you greet yet another customer. Your smile is weary and your cheeks feel strained, but your manager would immediately fire you if you so much as frowned a little bit. “How can I help you?”

“Can I get a strawberry lemonade?” the man smoothly asks. The lower portion of his face is covered in a mask, and he wears a hat that barely hides the strands of white hair peaking out.

“It’s… It’s the middle of winter.” You blink at him in surprise. 

“You’re right,” he muses, glancing out the window. Snow is falling gently. “Do you not sell lemonade in the winter?”

“Oh, no, we do.” You shake your head and force the smile back. “That’ll be six-fifty. How would you like to pay?”

He pulls out a card and taps it to the machine. You make his drink and place it down on the counter as quickly as you can before moving on to the next customer.

“Thank you,” he says gently, drawing your attention back to him. He wraps elegant fingers around the plastic cup. “Is it just you working?”

“Yes,” you answer with a tinge of exasperation coming through your voice. “My coworker called in sick half an hour ago.”

His perfectly groomed eyebrows pull together. “How awful.”

You hum, grabbing a napkin to clean up the crumbs a broken cookie left on the counter. “It is what it is.”

“Well I’ll tip you what you deserve,” he says. He tilts his head slightly. “In Korea we don’t tip, but I made sure to research what is reasonable here.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” you reply, flustered. It’s rare for you to receive tips, even though you work so hard. 

“I insist.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he reaches for the tip jar before retracting his hand. “I’m Seonghwa, by the way.”

You tell him your name before bustling back to the order station, where a woman is impatiently calling for you. By the time you look back, he’s gone.

The rest of your shift blurs by, and you’re exhausted by the end of it. Your manager empties the tip jar into your hands and pats you on the back for a job well done.

“Sorry it was so busy,” he says, smiling sympathetically. “I would help, but I had paperwork to do…”

“It’s okay.” You sigh down at the two dollars of change in your hand. “I get it.”

He patters off to a back room again, and you shoulder your bag before going home. The bus ride is long, and the entire time, you’re stewing about what that Soenghwa said.

‘I’ll tip you what you deserve.’

And he had seemed so nice. But he did say they didn’t tip in Korea, so perhaps that was the reason.

You shrug it off and forget about him for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at work the next day, tying your apron on and washing your hands. Your face still stings from the cold outside, but you smile brightly at the first one to step up to the counter.

Then the second, and the ninth, and by the time you’ve made your fiftieth plain, black coffee of the day, you want to scream.

Yes it’s nice making such simple orders, but it’s so bland and boring. How do these people all have the exact same taste in drinks?

“Remember me?” A man smiles at you, white hair framing his face. His soft pink lips pull upwards into a warm smile.

You stare at him. “Uh, yes. You! It’s so nice to see you!”

He laughs lightly. “I’m Seonghwa. Don’t worry about it, I’m not very memorable.”

Something glints in his eyes.

“What would you like?” you ask as you wipe down the expresso machine. It’s another day of just you.

“I liked that strawberry lemonade.” Seonghwa tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Anything like it?”

“Um, we have a hot chocolate? You seem like you enjoy sweet things,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I mean it’s not a cold drink but maybe you’d still like it anyways and-“

Seonghwa drums his fingers on the counter, grinning pleasantly. “Hot chocolate it is.”

You ring up his order, and he pays with his card again. You close the cap over the foamy whipped cream and slide it to him.

“Tipping you what you deserve again,” he says, eyes filled with mirth. Seonghwa takes the drink and bobs his head to you before slipping out of the shop.

“How are things going?” your manager asks as he pops his head into your section. 

“Good.” You grab a stack of cups and line them up. “Did Sarah call in sick again?”

“Yeah.” Your manager examines his nails. “Can you work a couple extra hours?”

The tone of his voice doesn’t leave it up to question.

You nod. “Yeah. No problem.”

“I’ll cover while you take a bathroom break,” he offers. His eyes flick over your face. “Why don’t you touch up your makeup too?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you shut yourself in the bathroom. You really want to quit this job. So badly. 

You exit the bathroom and re-enter the main part of the shop with a fresh smile. 

Sure it’s not a genuine one, but none of these people know that.

“You’re still here?” Seonghwa asks about four hours later, another man behind him. This one has jet black hair and a set to his jaw. “Or did I show up at the beginning of your shift.”

“No, it got extended.” You meet his eyes and you think yours are watering, but you’re too tired to care. “I’ve been here seven hours so far, three more to go.”

The man behind Seonghwa murmurs something you don’t catch, deep voice barely meeting your ears. Seonghwa replies in a language you don’t speak before facing you. “We’ll take two coffee if you can. Cream and sugar in both, please.”

You nod. “Nothing special?”

“And a cookie,” Seonghwa adds on, making the other man snort. “Oh, this is Mingi, by the way.”

Mingi inclines his head in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

You echo it back, already moving on to make their drinks. Seonghwa goes off to get a table for once, while Mingi waits.

“He’s a generous tipper?” Mingi asks as he hand him the cookie. “I had to loan him some cash today since he gave it all here, apparently.”

You frown. “Uh, yeah?”

Mingi raises an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too convinced.”

You swallow thickly. “I don’t pay much attention to those things.

Mingi scoffs. “Come on, just tell me, please? I’ll be able to hold it over his head forever.”

“Okay, first of all, I totally get that tipping is a strange thing in Korea,” you relent, “so not tipping a lot is totally okay.”

Mingi stares at you. “So he’s not tipping a lot?”

You pour the milk into the cup, mixing it with the coffee. “Not really.”

“Strange.” Minho glances back at Seonghwa who has nearly finished the cookie by now. “Because he was bragging about how well he understood tipping culture.”

“It’s totally okay, though.” You wave your hands dismissively before giving him the drinks. “Have a nice day!”

Mingi glides away back to his friend, who takes a sip of his coffee. They converse for a minute before Seonghwa approaches the counter, which is empty for once. It seems the rush has finally come to an end.

“Is something wrong with it?” you worriedly ask. 

“How much tipping is normal?” Seonghwa questions. Frustration is etched into his expression. “And why wouldn’t you tell me I was doing it wrong?”

“Uh, because we don’t know each other that well?” Your eyes widen. 

Seonghwa purses his lips. “I guess so. But how much should I be giving you? Because I’ve been giving a hundred-“

“A hundred dollars?” you hiss, cutting him off. “Seonghwa, that’s insane!”

His lips turn upwards wryly. “I haven’t been tipping that well in other places. Just for you.”

You rub at your face. “Okay, well, I haven’t been getting that money. Also why are you giving me that much?”

“Is that not how much you’re supposed to tip?” Seonghwa sheepishly says. “And for you because…”

“I’m heading out now.” Your manager scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flick between you and Seonghwa. “Is there a problem here?”

“Just complimenting your employee on her professional mannerisms.” Seonghwa smiles at your manager, nose scrunching up slightly. 

Your manager shuffled awkwardly. “Right. Thanks, I guess.”

Seonghwa watches him go before facing you again. His expression is suspiciously smooth. “Who gets the tips?”

“Uh, whoever was working at the time. We usually split it, but I was the only person here,” you explain as step around the counter and begin wiping tables down. Seonghwa trails after you. “I just don’t know where- Unless…”

“I believe your manager is taking the money,” Seonghwa grimly says, confirming your thoughts.

Mingi perks up. “Want me to go beat him up?”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head, slightly startled by the dark look to his eyes. “I wanted to quit anyways.”

The three of you are the only ones left in the shop. It’s pitch black outside, and the snow is reflecting the moonlight.

“I’m closing up in a couple of minutes,” you warn. “Last call for any insane drinks.”

“They’re not insane!” Seonghwa protests.

“You ordered lemonade in the middle of a snowstorm!” you exclaim. You motion out the window. “You’re crazy!”

Mingi clears his throat. “I’ll be outside. I want to go home sooner than later, by the way. We have a big performance tomorrow.”

“Oh, you guys preform together?” you ask curiously.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa studies your face as he says, “We’re in a K-pop band.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You nod along, bending over the table to get the side closer to the wall. You hear a stifled noise but pay it no kind. “And you’re preforming tomorrow?”

When you glance over your shoulder, Mingi is gone and Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly flushed. 

“Yup.” Seonghwa coughs. “Uh, are you going to get another job?”

You hum and place the cleaner back where you found it. “Yeah, after a couple days of messing up orders and lowering the rating on Yelp.”

Seonghwa pulls his phone out with a flourish. “Great idea. Um- Can I get your number? Just so I can check that you’re getting tipped properly at your next job.”

“Right,” you tease, taking his phone and putting your number in it. “But I won’t be upset if you text me for other reasons.”

Seonghwa looks pleased with himself as he tucks his phone away. He adjusts his scarf and his hands flex nervously. “I… I’ll remember that.”

You walk him to the door, somehow having ended up hand in hand with him. He squeezes once before releasing you and stepping to Minho’s side.

Seonghwa smiles shyly. He glances to Mingi, who is coincidentally staring at the moon. 

“Kiss me?” you hopefully ask.

Seonghwa ducks down so his lips meet yours. It’s soft and sweet, with a bit of a desperate edge to it that makes your knees weak.

“I’ll text you,” Seonghwa breathlessly says before chasing after Mingi.  

[roseyodditea]

A Day in the PubSec Office - Seth Lowell x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1.5k words. Exactly what the title says. Not quite teeth rotting fluff, but it's still cute Warnings -> None A/N -> To whoever asked I write about Seth, curse you for bringing this man to my attention. I just wanna pick him up and shake him now

Image taken from ZZZ wiki

Wake up, breakfast, transit, clock in, sit at your desk, and finally the workday begins. There was a bustle of phones, paperwork, patrols coming in and out, a janitor who lost the keys to the paper towel holder in the men’s bathroom, the squeak of that godforsaken wheel on your chair as you rolled backwards. Stretch, get coffee, rest your eyes, sit back down at your computer. Schedule meetings with investigators, make sure prison transfers happen when they need to, gather reports on hollows and civilian cases and-

“Good morning, (y/n)!” The enthusiastic man pops his head over your counter and smiles enough to show off those cute little fangs. “Good morning, officer Seth.” You look up from your computer screen and offer him one of the mints you kept at your desk. “You’re in early.” 

“This is the same time I come in every morning. I just wanted to… switch up my schedule and come visit my favorite office worker.” He responds as he chews up the mint without really savoring the flavor.

You glance over at the tab that contains the schedules to the meeting rooms, scanning over the timetable until you land on something of interest. “Couldn’t get into the debriefing about the robbery on Sixth Street?” You tease and watch as his ears flatten and twitch. “Shut up…” He grumbles and watches as you straighten up a stack of civilian complaints. He stares intently, his pupils widening like he had just locked onto a target. It was cute, watching how much he wanted to help. “What are those?” He tries not to sound overly excited about the prospect of having something to do this early in the morning. 

“Just some complaints about a group of bangboos causing a ruckus in the alleyway. From what was called in it just sounds like a turf war between some alley cats and curious bangboos.” “I can go talk to them.” Seth offers a little too quickly. 

“The cats?” You tease just to see that little ear twitch again.

“The bangboos.” He scoffs and snatches one of the files from your hands quickly. “Leave it to your favorite officer!” You cross your arms playfully. “Who says you’re my favorite?”

“The phone you’re ignoring.” Seth teases back and leaves with a swish of his tail as you regrettably pick up the phone. 

“Lumina Square PubSec non emergency line, how can I help you?” You recite the script and listen to another complaint about a fat alley cat and a bangboo. “Yes, I just sent my best officer to take care of it.”

*********************

The day bustled on further, a tornado of paperwork being dropped by a secretary, cancel a meeting and move and organize another one with a different precinct, someone please find that damn key so you can stop noticing wet spots on the male officers pants, call the mechanic to come tow a patrol vehicle, figure out who unplugged Officer Cui’s charging station, settle a stupid dispute between two officers who both equally suck at paperwork, refill the coffee machine. Some days you wished there were two of you… or you could curse out the people who frustrated you. You rifle through a filing cabinet, looking for one file that was several years old because Zhu Yuan found a lead on a cold case. You grumble to yourself, repeating the name of the criminal as you open up the second drawer. You finally grab the file and start to go back to your desk where your lunch was surely gathering dust.

Your path was interrupted by two officers calling your name as they handed you a stack of paperwork to file. You let out a groan and file it all away, only to realize you filed away the thing Zhu Yuan needed. A headache was starting to blossom in your head as you lean your forehead against the cold metal of the filing cabinet. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Remember, you work in PubSec, you can’t get away with slapping the next person who pisses you off. 

“(Y/n)?”

“What?” You whip your head around harshly before you register who said your name. You clear your throat and awkwardly fidget with your name badge. “Ah, sorry Officer Seth. How can I help you?”

Seth didn’t seem to take your words as hurtful, and instead continued on. “I have something that I really need your help with. Zhu Yuan said it overrules anything else you could be working on right now.” 

You let out a deep sigh and drag a hand across your face. “Alright. Hit me.” “Hit you?” “...Yeah. What do you need help with?” “Oh sorry I thought you actually wanted me to hit you.” He responded awkwardly. 

“Why would I want that?” His tail twitched. “I don’t know. You speak very deadpan when you’re frustrated and I can’t tell if you’re joking.” “Why would I not be joking!?” You ask, giggling a bit.

“You talk about walking into oncoming traffic all the time. I don't think I’m at fault here.” He continues, glad his plan to get you to smile worked without you realizing what he was doing. 

You let out a sigh and roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “Alright, what do you need Seth?”

“Follow me.” He turns to walk down a hall to a small meeting room. You think back to all the schedules and realize this room was supposed to be empty. Whoever booked it didn’t follow the proper procedures and might have thrown off your whole organization system. You actually stay in the office, all these boneheads who go out to patrol and cases are supposed to tell you when things in the office change and- “What’s all this?” 

Seth moves to sit at one side of the table where your favorite drinks from the convenience store and favorite ramen from General Chop’s sit. “Lunch,” he looks up at you with those big, eager eyes. “It’s so hard to get you out for lunch so I thought I’d come up with a compromise so you’re not eating your sad little sandwich at your desk.” “There is nothing wrong with my sandwiches!” You laugh as you sit across from him, eating a few bites and looking down into the ramen as you both ate. You were often taken advantage of, seen as nothing but a secretary, but this was incredibly sweet of Seth. “Thank you.” “Oh you do so much for us it’s the least I can do. This precinct would fall apart without you.” He states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, a sharp contrast to the pile of officers who never even bothered to remember your name. 

*********************

Last leg of the day, you’ve got this. 

More phone calls coming in, another patrol switch, more meetings, finally finding the key that was on the janitors key ring, Officer Cui somehow having more charging issues, a couple night shift officers calling in sick, Zhu Yuan asking about the file you had forgotten to get after lunch, Qingyi starting a betting pool that you had to smooth over before upper management started, someone losing a patrol vehicle only for it to have been in a different parking lot, a vandalism case wrapping up with the inside of the office now being covered in spray glitter and an entire can of decorative spiders webs and more and more and more. 

It was long after you were supposed to go home when you finally dumped the old coffee pot and put on a fresh brew for night shift. You slipped on your coat, clocked out, and got halfway through the lobby before your name was called again. 

“(Y/n), want someone to walk you home? That bag snatcher wasn’t caught today and they might still be out there.” Seth said as he quickly fell into step with you.

You thought back to that damned filing cabinet again and realized that the petty thief had been caught… by Seth… You looked at the man in front of you and just let out a sigh, a smile cracking across your lips. “I’d feel a lot safer with you by my side.” 

The walk to your apartment was rather uneventful, Seth asking about your day and listening intently to your every complaint before he tried to transition to lighthearted conversations to cheer you up. You stepped up to your front door and let out a tired sigh, thankful to be home. “Well, this is me.” Seth glances around before realizing he’d have to say goodbye now. “I’m glad I got you home all safe and sound.” “Is there anything you can’t do?” You laugh and turn to him to see that gentle smile still beaming at you. 

“Not that I’ve found yet.” He boasts and puffs up a bit, happily.

You step close and place a kiss on his cheek, pulling away to see the blank look on his face, the way his tail had puffed up to look like a bottle brush. “Goodnight, Seth.” “Ah… Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He murmurs and starts to try to walk away before you giggle. “Tomorrow is Saturday. We’re both off on Saturdays.” “...See you anyway?”

[little-miss-bioweapon121]

Part 3 Sangy and Baby this time as experienced by one of the Blood Angels @candyswirls I think you’ll really like this one

(Part 1 here)

(Part 2 here)

(Part 4 Here)

Cw: slight transhumanism

Antagrion was uncertain about what to make of the newest arrival.

Smaller than his fathers fist and fluffier than the sand lions on Baal the little thing was a far cry from the weapon of destruction they had all come to anticipate. Truly the tiny thing was quite well behaved, if the serfs were to be believed, and did little more than eat and sleep. Antagrion looks up from his battle notes at the sound of excited voices and cooing. He scrunches his nose in distaste as he watches two of his younger brothers fawn over the baby in their Fathers arms. Four days since they first brought it on board, and still the excitement of its presence had yet to abate.

That was another thing he couldn’t understand. Why was everyone making such a fuss over something so utterly benign? It couldn’t hold a bolter, couldn’t hold a knife, throne it couldn’t even hold a conversation. It was a mystery in origin and future potential, but one he was not all too keen to delve into. Turning away from the saccharine sweet scene before him Antagrion returns to his duties.

Later that night, when all is quiet on the command deck, Antagrion alone remains to finish paperwork and calculations. There are footsteps behind him but at such a late hour he dismisses them for those of a serf.

“Ah Captain, I thought I’d find you here.”

Not a serf. He turns to find his Primarch standing before him a warm smile on his face. Antagrion immediately straightens with an eager salute.

“My lord!”

Something shifts in the red fabric of Sanguinius’ toga before a small head of dark curls pops up.

“Oh, and the tiny thing too.”

A less enthused, but no less polite acknowledgment. Sanguinius huffs a laugh and adjusts his grip on the baby.

“I’d noticed that of all your brothers, you alone have yet to truly greet your youngest sibling.”

Antagrion shifts imperceptibly not so much in response to the judgement of his actions but to the topic itself. Once again that same little mystery he’s been more than happy to avoid seeks him out with all the persistence of a hunter.

“I just don’t understand.”

A tilt of the Primarchs head a silent urging to continue. Antagrion pauses for a moment. He stares at the child wrapped in the makeshift sling of his Fathers toga. The child stares back with the same scrutinizing intensity.

“It doesn’t really…do much. It eats, it sleeps, and occasionally makes noise. So why is everyone so….enchanted by it?”

He’s a little standoffish in his response but it makes Sanguinius laugh all the same. His father looks at him with clear mirth dancing on his features.

“They all have their own reasons for their excitement. Some more so than others. It would be remiss of me to attempt to give a single motive for their actions. Excitement, adoration, disinterest. There’s no right or wrong way to feel about this, nor do I expect a specific reaction from anyone, but as one of my captains you are in greater contact with me than the majority of the legion. You will more than likely be among my inner circle as the baby grows and matures. So if nothing else than for my own ease of mind,”

Sanguinius carefully scoops up the baby and holds him out towards Antagrion, a gentle encouraging smile on his face.

“I’d like you to say hello to your baby brother.”

A moment of hesitation before Antagrion gently takes the baby from his fathers grasp. Indulging his curiosity he holds the baby at arms length to finally get a good look. Hair black like ink and as curly as his Fathers, eyes a deep coppery brown, and two wings fuzzy with raven-black down feathers. He mentally acquiesces that the baby is aesthetically pleasing to look at, but still the fawning and cooing of his other brothers escapes him. Antagrion brings the baby to his chest in a more comfortable hold and in an instant the baby leans closer for a good look.

Scratch that the baby leans closer for a good sniff? Antagrion notes with curious amusement how the baby actually sniffs him and, apparently satisfied with his scent, relaxes against his chest. In equal parts curiosity and confusion he leans down for his own gentle sniff and-

Oh.

Hm.

Well all the fuss certainly makes more sense now. It’s a vague sensation in the back of his mind that catalogues the scent and immediately recognizes it as, well, not quite his but certainly something along those lines. Antagrion looks up at his Father with a suspicious squint.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you.”

Sanguinius’ smile is still warm and friendly but the smug air behind it does not fool him.

“I will neither confirm nor deny my knowledge.”

A disbelieving hum. For a moment Antagrion is happy to simply stand there and cuddle with the baby, but one mystery continues to nag at him.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“Whats the baby’s name? I never did learn it.”

“Ah yes, his name is….uh…”

“……..Father?”

A nervous cough from Sanguinius and Antagrion’s stare flattens in disbelief.

“You forgot to name him didn’t you.”

“In my defense it has been a very busy few days.”

“I gathered.”

[theartofcollapse]

Would you write f reader x alex in which they’re friends and reader has been secretly pining over alex for a while but hears some rumors about alex and olivia so she starts pulling away and avoiding alex to avoid getting hurt?

a/n: thank you for requesting! I hope you like it. summary: read it above pairing: Alex Cabot x female reader warnings: none word count: 1.2K

masterlist

Misunderstood - Alex Cabot

You’d never been one to believe in clichés, but the moment you’d met Alex Cabot, it was as if every love song, every romantic movie montage, every cheesy metaphor you’d ever rolled your eyes at had suddenly made sense.

Her golden hair fell in perfect waves around her sharp jawline. Her suits were always tailored to perfection, exuding power and grace. But it wasn’t just her looks that captivated you. It was her fire, her unwavering dedication to justice, her quick wit, her rare moments of softness.

You were friends. Just friends. At least, that’s what you reminded yourself every time your heart fluttered when she smiled at you, every time your stomach somersaulted when her hand brushed yours, every time you caught yourself daydreaming about her lips.

You’d kept your feelings locked away, convinced she’d never see you as more than a friend. Alex Cabot, the brilliant, gorgeous ADA, had no shortage of admirers, and you didn’t dare risk ruining the friendship you cherished so deeply.

But lately, something had changed.

It started with whispers.

You were working late at the precinct, finishing up paperwork, when you overheard two detectives talking in the breakroom.

“Cabot and Benson, huh?” one said with a smirk.

The other chuckled. “Yeah, it makes sense. They’re always together. Heard they were seen having dinner last week, just the two of them.”

Your heart plummeted.

Alex and Olivia? You’d always known they were close, their bond forged through countless trials and tribulations. But you’d never considered…

The rumors followed you like a shadow, growing louder in your mind with every passing day. You started noticing things you hadn’t before: the way Alex and Olivia exchanged subtle smiles, the way they lingered after meetings.

It was unbearable.

The thought of Alex being with someone else, especially Olivia - someone who seemed so perfect for her - was like a knife twisting in your chest. You couldn’t face her, couldn’t risk letting your feelings slip and humiliating yourself. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you started pulling away.

At first, Alex didn’t seem to notice.

You stopped lingering after work, stopped accepting her offers for coffee or lunch. When she texted, you kept your responses short, polite, and vague. You told yourself it was for the best, that creating distance would help you move on.

But it hurt. God, it hurt.

You missed her laugh, her sharp insights, her warmth. You missed the way she’d lean in close when she was telling you a secret, the way her eyes would light up when she was passionate about something.

Still, you held firm.

Until one evening, when Alex cornered you outside the precinct.

“Y/N,” she called, her voice laced with confusion and frustration.

You froze, clutching your bag tighter. “Alex. Hi.”

Her piercing blue eyes searched yours. “What’s going on?”

You blinked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

She crossed her arms, her expression a mixture of hurt and determination. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something to upset you?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. You wanted to tell her the truth, to confess everything, but fear held you back. Instead, you shook your head. “No, of course not. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy,” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “Y/N, we’re friends. You don’t think I’d notice when something’s wrong?”

Friends. The word stung more than it should have.

“It’s nothing, Alex,” you said, forcing a smile. “Really.”

Her gaze softened, but the hurt didn’t leave her eyes. “If you say so.”

For weeks, the distance between you grew. Alex tried to reach out, but you kept her at arm’s length.

Then, one night, you found yourself at a bar with some coworkers, trying to drown your sorrows in a cocktail. You were just about to order another when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Alex standing there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. She looked stunning, as always, in a black blazer and fitted jeans.

“Alex,” you said, your voice shaky.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think—”

“Now,” she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She led you outside, where the cool night air hit your flushed cheeks.

“Enough is enough,” Alex said, her voice firm but not unkind. “I don’t know what I did to make you pull away, but I can’t just stand by and watch you shut me out.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to find the right words.

“You didn’t do anything,” you said quietly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Then why?” she pressed, stepping closer. “Why are you avoiding me?”

You looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “Because it hurts.”

Her brows furrowed. “What hurts?”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you finally let the words spill out. “Being around you. Pretending I don’t feel the way I do. Hearing everyone talk about you and Olivia and knowing I’ll never—”

You broke off, your voice cracking.

Alex stared at you, her eyes wide with shock.

“Y/N…” she began, her voice softening. “You think… you think I’m with Olivia?”

You nodded, your throat tight.

She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “God, no. Olivia’s like a sister to me. Those rumors - whatever you heard - it’s not true.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “It’s not?”

“No,” she said firmly. “And even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. Because there’s only one person I’ve been thinking about. One person I’ve been wanting to spend more time with, if she’d let me.”

Your breath caught as she stepped closer, her blue eyes locking onto yours.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “It’s you.”

Time seemed to stand still as her words sank in.

“It’s me?” you whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

“It’s you,” she repeated, her hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “I thought I’d made it obvious, but I guess I wasn’t as clear as I thought.”

Tears streamed down your face as a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips. “I’m an idiot.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing away a tear. “You’re not an idiot. Just a little oblivious.”

A nervous laugh bubbled between you, and then, before you could overthink it, Alex leaned in and pressed her lips to yours.

It was everything you’d ever imagined and more, soft, warm, and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way.

When she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “Please don’t pull away from me again.”

You nodded, a tearful smile spreading across your face. “I won’t. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, your heart felt whole again. And as Alex pulled you into her arms, you knew you’d never have to hide your feelings from her again.

You were hers. And she was yours.

Finally.

[levi-4uckerman]

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader // like ghosts in the snow // chapter five

♥ the one where it happens again. many times. ♥ (´ω｀*) ☾ ⋆ TWs: explicit sexual content, intimate sex, unprotected sex, creampies, nightmares, sukuna mention (fucking finally) ☾ ⋆ Words: 3.5k (shorter one, sorry!)

⇘  previous chapter  ⇙ •┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈• ⇘  story timeline  ⇙

⌦ Tokyo, Japan | February, 2015..｡.:*♡

It was supposed to stop.

Every time, you promised yourself it would be the last. The last stolen glance, the last late-night visit, the last time you’d wake up to find him draped across your bed like he belonged there.

It never was.

The rules you’d made— unspoken and fragile —were already ruined. You couldn’t remember when you stopped pretending. Maybe it was that time in the library, with his hot breath against your neck while your fingers tangled in his hair. Or maybe it was the night that he’d shown up at your place again, hair wet from the rain and desperation shining in his eyes as he begged you to let him in.

Any lines you’d tried to draw in between were crossed. Over and over again.

Satoru wasn’t supposed to be on your mind like this. In your bed. And yet… you wanted him there.

It didn’t matter where you met him— on the school grounds, in dimly lit hallways of the Council building, or on opposite sides of the same room— trading sharp words like weapons. It always ended the same way.

His lips attached to yours, hands planted firmly against your skin. His voice low and teasing in your ear. You hated how natural it felt, how easy it was. How inevitable it felt, to give in.

It shouldn’t have been.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The days passed in a blur, and although you hated yourself for it, you were welcoming of Satoru’s company. He was a soothing balm to your constant cycle of stress and frustration, between council meetings and consultations within the world of Jujutsu. As the first and only appointed Oracle, your technique was in high demand— by higher-ups and colleagues alike.

Satoru knew what it was like, to be needed in such a way… an impersonal sort of way, the kind that makes you feel like more of a tool than a human.

More of a weapon than a human, in his experience.

“You’re going to burn yourself out, Shi-chan,” he told you one afternoon spent on campus, sitting next to him in his office while sifting through paperwork. He had parked his chair way too close to yours, which was nothing new, but it was distracting. His bandages were discarded, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you flip through the reports in your lap.

“I don’t have a choice,” you mumbled, exhaustion tugging at you. “Someone has to take these requests. You wouldn’t understand—,”

A loud snort cut you off. “Wouldn’t I?” His eyes were teasing, but something in his expression was… softer. You’d miss it if you blinked. “Come on, Shi-chan. You think I don’t know what it’s like, to be the first person the executives call when they’re in over their heads? The only one they can turn to when they can’t handle their own shit?”

Your hands paused in their movements, but you averted your gaze.

You felt him creep closer, still; you felt him reach out to touch your jaw, gently forcing you to look at him. “You don’t have to keep saying yes, you know,” he continued. “You can let people down sometimes. It’s freeing.”

“No one else can do what I do,” you said. “I have to say yes.”

“No, you don’t,” Satoru said, releasing your jaw. “I say no all the goddamn time.”

“That’s because you don’t care,” you spat, heat rising in your chest.

“Wrong,” he sang in response, the grin spreading across his face infuriatingly attractive. “I care a lot. But I don’t owe the higher-ups anything, and I want them to know that.”

“Easy for you to say, Satoru,” your tone was cutting, angry. “You’re untouchable. They need you, whether you say yes or not.”

Satoru’s relaxed stance changed. His muscles tensed visibly beneath his uniform, his jaw ticked imperceptibly. He was upset, too. “They also need you,” he asserted. “And I don’t want you to kill yourself trying to prove it.”

You stood up, suddenly uncomfortable with his proximity. You were frowning, brows furrowed as you stared down at him. Unmoving. Unspeaking.

After a beat, you found your voice. “If I don’t do it, no one will.”

He stood, the scrape of his chair against the floor echoing slightly in the quiet room. He towered over you, personal space virtually nonexistent. You felt the quiet hum of his Infinity fizzle briefly against you, a familiar sensation after practically growing up together. You stiffened, but did not step back.

“What about what you need?” He asked. “Who’s going to look out for you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. The words came out stronger than you’d intended, surprising even yourself.

“Bull fucking shit,” he shot back, sharp but not unkind. “It matters, Shi-chan. And if you keep letting them drain you dry, you’ll find that out the hard way.”

You let the reports slip from your grasp, papers cascading to the floor of Satoru’s pristine office. "They gave me this promotion, Gojo. I don’t have a choice,” you whispered, turning away from him. You approached the door, hand reaching for the metal handle when you felt heat pressing against your back.

Satoru’s heat.

He reached around you, stopping your limb short. “There’s always a choice,” he murmured, the Infinity between you disappearing. You felt his breath on your neck, the low rumble of his voice caressing the shell of your ear. You closed your eyes tight. “You’re allowed to make one for yourself.”

Just as the silence began to settle, your phone buzzed on the wood of Satoru’s desk. From here, you could just barely make out the name— and you couldn’t suppress the way your face twisted into a scowl and a frustrated huff left your nostrils.

Before you knew it, Satoru appeared at the desk, gripping your phone in his hands. His gaze narrowed at the name in a way that suggested he wasn’t familiar. “Who is this?”

“The Administrative Liaison from the Jujutsu Council,” you muttered, tone dripping with disdain. “They’re summoning me for another investigation.”

His eyes flashed to yours, and your stomach dropped. “Satoru, no, don’t you dare—,”

Too late. He accepted the call, pressing a finger to his lips in warning before speaking into the receiver. “Myoji’s phone, this is Satoru Gojo,” he said smoothly. “What can I do for the esteemed Jujutsu Council on this fine evening?”

You watched in horror, helpless as he grinned, listening to the voice on the other line. The words were fast, practically mumbled from where you stood across the room. He leaned against the edge of the desk, tilting his gorgeous head as if pondering his next move.

“No,” he said finally, his tone pleasant. “I’m afraid Myoji is not available.”

Whatever response he got next made his grin widen. He tapped his fingers against the desk, a steady rhythm that only amplified your anxiety.

“Nonono, you’re misunderstanding,” he said, cutting off the voice on the other end. “She’s not your errand girl, and she’s not a tool for you to exploit. You don’t get to treat her like this.”

Your stomach twisted. “Satoru!” You seethed. “Stop this!”

He held up a finger, silencing you without so much as a glance. “If you keep bullying her into saying yes, the Council will have a lot more trouble than their precious Oracle could fix.”

The weight of his words seemed to ripple through the room, his cursed energy pressing into the very air around you both. Whatever the caller said next was brief, clipped, and cut short as Satoru ended the call without so much as a goodbye. He smirked at you, the edge of his energy easing as he let the silence stretch for another beat. He tossed the phone back onto the desk.

You stomped over to him, anger twisting your face. “What the hell was that?”

Satoru shrugged. “Me doing something you should have done a long time ago. You’re welcome!” He added brightly.

Your jaw tightened. “They gave me my first grade status, Satoru,” you pressed. “I owe it to them to—,”

“You earned that fucking status,” he said, leaning down into you. “They won’t touch it. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“I can handle myself, you know,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes with a similar fervor. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Despite your words, something softened in your heart. He’d… stood up for you. When had anyone ever done that? Why… did he do that? He was watching you now, his grin faint— the kind of smirk that was more armor than expression. His hands were tucked loosely in his pockets, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head as he waited for you to snap, to yell at him, to tell him to stay out of your business.

And you should have done all of those things.

Instead, you stayed silent, chewing on your lip. You felt like you could see your reflection in those bright blue eyes— small, uncertain, and utterly undone by the man standing before you.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the overhead light.

Satoru swallowed before finally replying. “Yeah, I did.”

You were standing inches apart, if even that. Your breath caught in your chest when he reached out, long fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was fleeting, almost hesitant, and it sent a wave of heat coursing through you.

“Satoru,” you warned, breathless.

“Shh,” he said, unmoving. “I’m not doing anything.”

You could smell his cologne— clean and refreshing with something spicy underneath. You closed your eyes, trying to remind yourself to be angry. Be mad. You were supposed to stop.

“Should I?” he asked, his words barely above a murmur. The faint curve of his lips dared you to reply. Dared you to say yes.

You said his name again, but your voice came out husky. Wrong. “Shouldn’t… be this close,” you managed to add, although lacking in conviction.

“Am I close?” He asked, the teasing lilt in his tone sending your stomach into knots.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering to his mouth before snapping back to his eyes. “Yes.”

“Does it bother you?” He tilted his head, just slightly, enough to bring his face closer to yours.

“Yes.” You whispered.

Your voice cracked.

“Liar.”

He leaned forward, so slightly— just enough to let your breaths mingle, your lips graze each other.

This dance, this… game you played was like a stuck record. It repeated the same verse over and over, infinitely.

You feared it would never get old.

“We really shouldn’t,” you said again, voice shaking as you braced your palm against his chest.

Oh. His Infinity was down.

Oh. He was warm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he teased, as if he could feel your resolve cracking. “You always say that, baby—,”

A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment, as abrupt and jarring as glass hitting the floor.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Satoru froze, his lips hovering just over yours. His instinct was to ignore it. Pretend no one was there, pretend the world didn’t exist outside of this moment, like in his domain—

“Satoru,” You whispered, your voice low and insistent. His head dropped forward in exaggerated defeat, the faintest groan slipping from his lips onto yours.

“Ignore it,” he pleaded, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer.

But something in the air had shifted, the moment was over. You pulled away as another sharp knock cut through the silence, followed by a voice calling out for him, for Satoru.

He’d lost you for the moment, but not the evening. Straightening his posture, replacing his bandages, Satoru used his technique to straighten the papers scattered among your feet as you reclaimed a seat at his desk. The blush on your cheeks was faint, but not indetectable. Not for him.

This wasn’t over. He was sure of that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting in the windowsill of the Tokyo dorms, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap; you knew he was coming. You let your gaze linger over the the school grounds, unfocused, as the glow of the moon cast soft shadows over your face.

“You hidin’ from me?” Satoru said from behind you, the weight of his attention impossible to ignore. You turned to face him, pleased to see that his eyes were covered.

It was always easier to talk to him that way.

“Maybe I’m just busy.”

He stepped into your space, taking a seat next to you. A warm hand settled over your knee, squeezing gently. “You’re not.”

You sighed. “You shouldn’t be here, Satoru.”

“And why is that?”

“I can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, voice strained. “This pretending.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “Pretending…?” His voice was teasing as usual, but there was a hint of something else. Something vulnerable.

Despite the bandages over his eyes, you felt incredibly naked before him. You swallowed before replying, “Pretending that this doesn’t mean anything to me. Pretending that every time we meet eyes in the hall, it doesn’t affect me, or that every time you play with my hair while we’re laying together in your silk sheets that it doesn’t make me want to stay there forever. This might be the sort of thing that works for you, Satoru, but I can’t. I can’t keep pretending.” You felt tears prickling at your eyes, proud that you managed to hold them in despite the quiver of your lip.

Satoru was silent for a moment, the room feeling heavier between you. His hand stilled against yours, while the other reached up to bare his six eyes to you. They were glowing, you noticed. Have they always done that?

“Then don’t,” he leaned closer, his words lacking any playfulness. “You don’t have to pretend.”

Your heart raced in your chest. The tension in the air was palpable. “You promise me you won’t regret it?” you asked in a trembling voice, each word a hesitant offering. You’d turned yourself toward him, and your eyes searched his for any measure of deceit or humor. You found none.

Satoru tilted his head slightly, the tiniest smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

His fingers rose to your jaw, tilting your face toward his. Despite the intimate proximity you’d been in with him up to this point, this felt different. Charged with something unspoken, something fragile.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. But he didn’t kiss you— not yet. Instead, his mouth hovered, brushing yours in a gentle sort of way that wasn’t quite a kiss. The space between you dissolved into shallow breaths, the heat of his exhale teasing your skin.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him there— unwilling to let the distance grow. “You always do this to me,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

“Do what?” He asked, his voice soft, the question slipping between you like a secret.

You didn’t answer, instead pressing your lips to his with more intention, but still just as soft.

He murmured your full name like a plea, his forehead pressed against yours. His mouth ghosted over the corner of your own, a touch so light that it nearly broke you.

“This,” you whispered, letting his hands slide to your waist. The touch was insistent, grounding you as the weight of him pressed into you- unyielding and steady. Still, he didn’t kiss you— not completely. His mouth lingered, tasting the edges of words unspoken, stealing breaths like something precious. When his lips shifted against yours, deeper this time, a soft sound escaped you. He caught it, swallowed it, his breath heavy with the same quiet desperation. It wasn’t a kiss. It was everything.

You fell into each other, feeling the world shift as Satoru warped you into the closest dorm. Students still used this wing, and you had to be quiet— something he reminded you of with a hand clasped over your mouth as he sucked on your neck, nipping and biting.

Your bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle; his warmth seeped into you, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. It was fast, it was desperate, it was careless. Murmured praise echoed into the room as he pleasured you— first with his fingers, then his mouth, and finally his cock. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer with each thrust. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it registered that you’d forgotten protection, but you didn’t care. You wanted Satoru close, wanted to be full of him, wanted him to seep out from between your thighs when he was finished with you.

When the waves of ecstasy finally washed over you both, you clung to him. His arms wrapped protectively around you as he pulsed within you, filling you so impossibly deep that you cried out into his shoulder, teeth baring down into his flesh until you tasted copper. His soft whimpers filled your ears as his tip kissed your womb, burying his seed deep into your walls.

When he flipped you onto your stomach for round two, you should have stopped him. Should have told him no, especially when his slick member pressed into you from behind, sloppily fucking his hot cum deeper into you. Should have at least made him pull out, instead of crying out in desperate pleas to give you more and more— egging him on, asking for it. Over and over until he lay spent on top of you, whining as he kissed you— for real this time. Desperate. Messy.

Meaningful.

Instead of thinking, you chose to exist. You let go of your questions and doubts, the looming shadows of what tomorrow might bring. Regret had no place here for now, not in his warmth, not with his breath steady against your skin.

You didn’t know how it would work or why it felt so certain, but there was an unshakeable peace within you. It whispered in the silence between the beats of your hearts— a fragile promise that, somehow, this… would be enough.

This would be okay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

⌦ Somewhere out west... | 2018..｡.:*♡

You sat up abruptly in your bed, your blood feeling icy in your veins. The dream dragged you back to wakefulness with a cold grip, leaving your chest heaving. Your breath came in shallow gasps, cold sweat clinging to your skin despite the heavy quilt tangled around your lower half. The nightmare was fading quickly, vivid fragments slipping through the cracks like water.

Shriveled fingers. A boy with two faces. Something unspeakably dark coiled around his soul, whispering promises of destruction.

You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, willing your heart’s beating to slow. It wasn’t the first time you’d dreamed of him— this cursed boy. The details were always unclear, but the weight of his presence never failed to shake you. To leave you gasping for air, a cold sweat having taken over your body. Something about this dream felt eerily inevitable, like a thread woven thickly into your web of fate, intertwining with too many paths to ignore.

“Mama?”

The small voice cut through the fog in your head, pulling you back into the present. You turned toward the doorway, where Haruto stood, rubbing his eyes. He had his stuffed rabbit, Snowy, clutched tight against his chest. His white hair was sticking out in every direction, familiar blue eyes peering up at you with sleepy concern.

“Honey,” you started, softening your voice as you reached for him. “Did I wake you?”

He shuffled over to your bed, little feet barely making a sound against the floorboards. “You were talking,” he mumbled, climbing onto the mattress and curling into your side. “It sounded scary.”

Your heart twisted. “Was I?” you murmured, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “I was dreaming, sweetheart. I’m sorry it woke you.”

Haruto frowned at you, his little brows furrowing. “You have bad dreams, mama?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “But it’s over. And I’ve got my little warrior with me now!” You added the last part with a smile, warm and loving.

He seemed to accept that, nestling closer to you with Snowy pressed between your bodies. His warmth was comforting, a stark contrast to the cold dread still clinging to your chest. You pulled your quilt over the both of you as you laid back, idly stroking your fingers through his hair.

“Do our dreams mean something, mama?” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.

Your hand slowed in its movements. “Maybe sometimes,” you said softly. “But not always.”

He yawned before uttering a soft “okay” and tucking his face into your side, drifting back to sleep with a tiny hand resting on your chest.

You watched as his breathing slowed, letting your gaze linger on his peaceful features. You saw Satoru in the curve of his jaw, the softness of his expression, the way his lips turned slightly upward even in sleep. It isn’t fair, you thought. That Haruto should be a living reminder of everything you’d been running from, everything you swore you’d protect him from.

And still, he was the most precious gift that Satoru had ever given you. The part of your past that you would never, could never regret.

Your fingers trailed through the mess of white hair on his head, your throat tightening as you whispered into the quiet dark of the room, “I’ll protect you. No matter what.”

Yet the question lingered, unspoken in the quiet air of your cabin. The dream still fresh on your mind, the unmistakable presence of a curse’s influence making you shiver. What, exactly, were you protecting him from?

.

.

This is Chapter 5 of a multi-chapter fic to be crossposted to AO3. Taglist below as requested. @starlightglimmersworld @mccookiemonster @leilakaro @certainduckanchor @itsbellablue-blog @shokosbunny @megumisthirdog @thegh0stwife @54fangirl @misslovingpearl @idkuluka @bitchycloudstrawberry @pinkpunkdynamite @theclassbookworm @okaywitheverything

[toasttt11]

carson wren

May 13, 2021

Wyatt was sitting in his room on his birthday when his phone started ringing and he answered the call being told Anna had started labor.

Wyatt eyes widened realizing his child could be born on his birthday.

Wyatt quickly jumped off the bed and grabbed the green backpack diaper bag he had packed with his mom and rushed down out of his room and into his car. He was home alone right now so he didn’t have anyone to tell at the moment and was just rushing to the hospital.

Wyatt drove the short drive to the hospital and quickly hopped out of his car grabbing the back and rushing into the hospital room. He rushed to the front desk and was given the room number and he rushed to the door.

Wyatt knocked on the door and a nurse opened the door and got a nod from Anna that he could come in.

“Just do not hold my hand.” Anna grumbled immediately to Wyatt. The nurses shared a relieved look seeing the father walking in because Anna had only been in labor a few minutes and was already saying disgusting things about the child.

Wyatt just nodded and set the bag onto the chair and walked next to the bed not touching Anna like she asked.

Wyatt watched with wide eyes at all the sounds and how difficult it sounded for Anna as she gave birth to his child. He had a respect that she was able to this but held no more respect for her than that.

Wyatt breath caught as he saw the baby in the nurses arms and the baby made a few little sounds, Wyatt was already in awe.

“You want to hold your daughter Dad?” The nurse asked kindly making Wyatt quickly nod as he blinked and he walked over and paused realizing she said daughter. He has a daughter.

Wyatt gasped softly as his daughter was placed in his arms, Wyatt looked down at his daughter and his whole heart just softened, his whole life changed in just moments and there was nothing more he loved in the world than this special girl in his arms.

She was perfect. He shared a birthday with his little girl, she was the best birthday present he could ever ask for.

“Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” The other nurse offered. Wyatt blinked out of his daze and looked up from his daughter and nodded.

Wyatt didn’t let go of his daughter still holding her in one arm as he clipped her umbilical cord.

“We will need to clean her up and give her a check up to make sure everything is well.” The nurse told Wyatt.

Wyatt froze his arms tightening slightly not wanting to leave her.

“Don’t worry you can come with us.” The nurse kindly explaining seeing the new Dad’s worry.

“And don’t come back.” Anna grumbled from the bed, she never wanted to see it.

The nurses shared a look and started guiding Wyatt and the baby out of the room and one of them grabbed the bag Wyatt brought.

Wyatt walked into the new room and let out an uncomfortable breath as he had to set his daughter onto the small tables for baby so she could get cleaned up asks checked over.

One of the nurses did that while the other went to Wyatt, “Do you have the papers?” She asked kindly feeling bad she had to ask right than.

Wyatt nodded he washed his hands before grabbing the file out of the diaper bag and handed them to the nurse.

The nurse looked them over and nodded, “Okay so i’ll file these and in a few weeks you should get papers in the mail basically confirming your custody.” She explained, “Now you’ll be able to take her home later today and we will send you home with formula that’s good for newborns and if you have any questions or if anything feels wrong call or come back.”

Wyatt nodded slowly listening to everything she was saying.

“Okay do you have a name for her?” The nurse asked Wyatt.

Wyatt looked over at his daughter and smiled knowing exactly what her name will be, it felt right, “Carson Wren Johnston.” Wyatt said it for the first time and it was perfect.

The nurses smiled and wrote down the name on the birth certificate and Wyatt signed it.

Wyatt walked back over to his daughter when he finished the paperwork and smiled lovingly seeing his daughter.

“If you are comfortable you can take your shirt off and sit in the chair so she can have her first feed.” The nurse told Wyatt knowing it’s important for skin to skin contact with baby’s.

Wyatt easily nodded and took his jacket and shirt off and sat down on the chair as the nurse placed Carson into his arms.

“Hello Carson.” Wyatt mumbled lovingly as his finger softly brushed across her little cheeks.

Wyatt took the bottle from the nurse and softly offered it Carson which quickly took the bottle and started eating immediately, “Good job.” Wyatt softly cooed as he she had his full attention.

Wyatt isn’t sure he has ever seen anything more beautiful than his daughter.

When he found out about Anna’s pregnancy he never really had the time yet to think about what gender he wanted, he would be happy with either but holding his daughter, he couldn’t think of a better choice than what he has now.

The nurses left Wyatt and Carson and gave them some time alone and he just held her for so long just starring at her even when she finished her bottle and she yawned.

“I promise i’ll be the best dad to you and i’ll be whatever else you need. I love you.” Wyatt whispered pressing a kiss to her little forehead.

Wyatt didn’t know how long he stayed there just holding her as she slept and he looked at all of her little features just noticing how much she already looks like him.

Carson stirred slightly and her little eyes fluttered opened and for the first time she looked into someone’s eyes, Her Dad’s.

Wyatt gasped softly seeing her eyes being the exact shade as his eyes, “Hello.” Wyatt grinned down at her, “Happy birthday my love.” Wyatt cooed at his baby.

The nurses came in after a few hours and Wyatt didn’t even realize how long he had been there alone.

Wyatt let the nurses check over Carson once more as he put his shirt and jacket back on. Wyatt grabbed the outfit he picked out for Carson to wear home. He put the diaper bag on and walked over with the little outfit.

The nurses helped Wyatt put the little brown fuzzy us onesie on Carson, it was a little bear onesie and she looked adorable.

Wyatt finished everything and they were allowed to go home. He carried his daughter in his arms as he walked out of the hospital and brought his daughter outside for the first time, the sun was already going down.

Wyatt walked to his car and opened the back door, he had the car seat already all set up in the car for Carson. For the first time he put her in the car set and buckled her up, she barely stirred just continued to sleep.

Wyatt let out a nervous breath as he got in the drivers seat and glanced through the mirror at his baby.

Wyatt went extremely slow and went through the slowest streets as he drove her home.

Wyatt parked in the driveway and got out gently picking her up and grabbing the diaper bag.

Wyatt grimaced realizing he never told his family where he went, “Think it’s a good birthday surprise little bear?” Wyatt asked looking at Carson and she just cooed making him nod and let out a breath.

Quinn looked up as the door opened, “Hey your back-“ She paused seeing the tiny figure in her baby brother’s arm, “No way!” Quinn whispered shouted making their parents turn and looked shocked.

“Everyone meet Carson Wren.” Wyatt proudly introduced his daughter to his family.

[etherealholland]

Right Hand — Levi x Reader

Pairings . . . Levi Ackerman x Fem!Assistant!Reader

Word count . . . 3.2k words

Content . . . swearing, angst, mentions of death, death

A/N — cross posted from Wattpad : ) please bear with me it’s my first post on this platform so i’m still trying to navigate it anyw enjoy !

The halls were all quiet, mostly because most of the rooms are empty, the cadets could be found going on about their day, training in the fields. One room in particular wasn't quiet, in fact, quite the opposite. The Scout Regiment's most elite soldiers were on about the plan in the upcoming expeditions, with the discussion getting pretty heated because some members of the government were opposing with almost all of Erwin's ideas which of course, included with a lot of people dying.

You were sitting quietly beside Levi, all their words coming in one ear and immediately coming out of the other because you weren't someone important. In fact, the only reason you're even here is because you're Captain Levi's assistant and it is expected of you to come to every one of his meetings to accompany him, which you didn't really understand in the first place.

Why would the Captain need your assistance? Or anyone's assistance? Captain Levi has always had his reputation of wanting to do things alone, or even better, doing things amazingly even if he was alone. You had also had quite the prestige, already set to take the mantle of Levi as their best soldier yet, or another soldier with the title of 'Humanity's Strongest' but now the tables have turned. You were now doing other things like getting Captain's tea, cleaning his office, and doing papers. What ever happened to that prestige you had? You wondered.

In the corner of your eye, you see Levi pinching his nose, clearly getting frustrated by the second.

It was like he wanted to punch and kick someone, basically giving someone a good beating. Though you appreciated being Levi's assistant or 'Right Hand' as Commander Hange puts it, you'd appreciate it more if he just orders you around and not give you any beating, which you had to constantly pray for. "Y/N, let's go." He grumbles. You were caught off guard but immediately hurried to take all his papers in front of him while he stands up swiftly, "Erwin, what we're doing right now won't take us anywhere and will just be a waste of time. I'm going. Y/N, let's go!" He yells, storming out the meeting.

You hurried behind him, bowing slightly to the superiors and mumbling an apology to them before following Levi back to his office. As you both entered his office, you could hear him grumbling under his breath about something. He sits down on his chair, rubbing his temples, looking like he's about to burst. You put his papers from the meeting, neatly placing it on a shelf before you go and stood in front of his desk. "Captain, is there something I could get for you?" You asked, in hopes to calm him down. He audibly sighed, "You and I are close enough to call each other on a first name basis, right? You always forget that." He explained, gazing at me.

"Sorry, I keep on forgetting." You chuckled softly while glancing at him, waiting for an answer to your question. You had always wondered why he was always patient with you, unlike with the cadets. Especially when you two were alone, but you had always thought that it was the way he was with Hange and Erwin, sometimes. "Tea, please." He requests. "Right away, Levi." You said, mumbling his name while slowly walking out of his office and running to the kitchen.

You swiftly prepared his tea, having already memorized it due to the countless times you had to make it for him. Sometimes, he'd get mad if you messed up, serving as the main reason why you don't dare forget it anymore. You tried your best to walk faster to the office while also trying to avoid spilling the tea. You entered his office again, seeing him doing paperwork as you placed his tea on his desk.

"Thank you, Y/N." He mumbled, not taking his eyes of what he was doing. "Let me help you, Levi." You offered, sitting on the opposite side of him. You felt his eyes glancing at you before he gave you some of the papers to help him with. At first, you weren't sure why you were being chosen as Levi's assistant. Being at the top of your game, people were saying that you're almost at Levi's level, so you didn't know why you had to step down a bit from your duties.

But as time went on, you didn't mind as much. You had come to learn very useful skills from him to use in battle. He taught you a lot of things that you weren't taught in training, he taught a lot of life skills too, mainly, cleaning, and overtime, you had taken quite a liking to him. The thought of telling him such a thing was quickly brushed off because you were completely devoted to him as your Captain and you knew as well as everyone else that Levi wasn't really the type to be affectionate in such a way.

Time passed by and Levi and you just sat there doing paperwork for hours on end. But not at all did it feel awkward in any way as you were already used to these situations. "Y/N. I wanted to talk to you about something." He finally spoke up, breaking the silence. You put down what you were doing, all attention of yours now completely directed at him. "Yes, Levi?" You asked. "I don't want you to participate in the upcoming expedition." He stated bluntly.

Your eyes widened subtly, a look of disbelief on your face as you furrowed your eyebrows whilst your brain tried to process the information. "Captain, I ask that you let me come on the expedition." You requested, smiling a little, hoping he was joking, even if he never makes jokes. "I think I made myself clear, Y/N. What do you not understand about that?" He asked but his voice was gentle, a fact that surprised me even more as I was used to seeing him yell at someone after they immediately disagree with him.

"Why can't I go? I vowed to protect humanity with my life. That's my duty as a Scout. It's what I signed up for, Levi." You explained, seeing his disgruntled expression. He grumbled, "Y/N," You lean closer towards him, furrowing your eyebrows. "You're not going and that's an order. I don't owe you an explanation, just do as your told." He spat, frowning. "If you don't want me to go, I at least deserve to know why." You fired back, shaking your head, trying your very best to be patient with him but he was making it very hard for you to do that.

"It's something you won't understand. Do you not trust me?" He huffed, subtly rolling his eyes, his jaw clenching. "How would you know what I can and can't understand?" You mumbled to yourself but you were certain that Levi heard it clearly. You stared and studied him but to no avail. You didn't even feel like opposing anymore, afraid that it would lead to something horrible. "Y/N, just-!" Levi started.

"Fine. I won't go then, if that's what you wish."

You complied, cutting him off, your face falling, clearly disappointed and upset. You quickly realized this and replaced your expression, holding your head high. "Good." He mumbled, sensing the guilt in his tone. "You may not understand, but soon you will." He reassured. "I just feel useless, Levi. Like this is the life that us set for me," You sighed, avoiding eye contact. "I want to protect humanity, Levi, and I will, but not like this, not by doing papers all day." You explained, face falling.

"Y/N, you're not at all useless." Levi says. "Easy for you to say." You mumbled, organizing the papers you had worked on. "I mean it, you're very helpful, to everyone, not just me. I don't see you as less than what you really are. You're exceptional. I'm not doing this to rob you of your title or your prestige, I'm doing this for another reason. I might tell you when I get back, but for now, you just have to trust me." Levi says. You glanced at him, furrowing your eyebrows. You've never heard Levi say even the slightest words that are close to sympathetic.

You just nodded and handed him the papers. "You should get some rest, Capt." You said, turning to walk towards the door. "Good night, Y/N." He said, expecting a good night back, but you just hummed in response, still upset at him. He couldn't even give you a reason not to go.

You tossed and turned in bed all night until you got out, walking to the kitchen to get tea, hoping it would make you sleepy. It was 2 AM at this point, so you quietly rummaged through the kitchen cabinets 'til you finally found yourself some tea. You lit a candle and sat on one of the tables in the dining area, your finger circling the rim of the cup, thinking to yourself.

How can you be truly useful if all you do is be an assistant? You didn't mind being that, but you also wanted to take part in expeditions and missions. That's what you signed up for, not this, you thought. You hear faint noise from the kitchen, but thought nothing of it. Probably just some other cadet who wants a snack in the middle of the night. As time passed, you jumped from your seat, seeing a figure walking towards you.

Squinting your eyes, you sighed, seeing that it was just Levi. "Levi," You breathed out in relief. "Jesus, you scared me too, brat." He mumbled, "You should be resting." He firmly says. You roll your eyes, annoyed. "I don't even have anything to do tomorrow, you should be the one sleeping." You huffed, sitting back down. "Fine." He mumbled, walking back to his room.

After a few minutes, you decided to retreat back to your room as well, continuing your tossing and turning in bed.

Levi got out of bed that morning, done with his usual morning routine. It was an early day for the Scouting Legion today as they wanted to get this expedition over with. Levi walked out of his room, watching over the cadets preparing their gear, giving them glares and making sure they checked their gears thoroughly to avoid any distractions. Levi caught sight of a familiar girl in the room, the one who he'd recognize anywhere. He rushed over there, practically fuming.

Levi grabbed Y/N's arm, "What are you doing here?" He whispered, though it was pretty clear that everyone heard what the Captain said into Y/N's ear. "Relax, Levi. I'm just saying my farewell's to my fellow cadets and wishing them safe." You said, bluntly. You raised an eyebrow, Levi narrowed his eyes, but let go of you. "Fine, but I will escort you back to your room myself." He grunted. You roll your eyes, then turn towards Eren, Armin, and Mikasa, smiling at them. "Thank you, all of you. I promise I will repay you when we get back." You whispered to them, fixing Armin's jacket and made sure it was presentable, not that it mattered.

"Of course, Y/N! Anything for a friend." Armin beams, smiling widely. You smiled back, gushing over how sweet he was. "If anything happens, don't tell a soul, okay? I don't want them thinking you three planned my death." You whispered, face darkening. "Y/N, you won't." Eren reassured. "Cadets!" Levi yelled from across the room. "You better go. See you." You said, walking off. You approached Levi, seeing his expression soften at the sight of you. "I'm done." You mumbled, walking past him.

He followed you to your room, through the dead silent hallways. You sighed, glancing back at him as you and Levi both arrived at your room. "Goodbye, Y/N. I'll be back, I promise. I hope you're here when that happens, awaiting my return." He said, raising his eyebrows, looking saddened. You were taken aback, never ever seen that expression from him. Your face fell, "Be safe." You said, closing the door, guilty of what you were about to do.

You waited a few minutes before changing into your uniform, putting the familiar green cloak with the Scouting Legion's logo on the back of it. You put the hood up, an attempt to hide your identity. You creaked the door open, seeing the halls empty and with no one around, you rushed to the room where they kept the gear. Just as the Scouting Legion was about to leave, you caught up.

You were at the very back of the group, looking down so that no one would see you. The gates then opened, you let everyone go before you caught up just before the gate closed. On your horse, you just look around, at least hoping to secure and protect the squad in front of you. Fortunately, there were no titans in sight.

As the group enters the forest, you start to feel uneasy. 'Titans,' You thought, as you got off your horse and went on, scouting the area for titans. You see one in the corner of your eye and you wasted no time to kill it with ease. You smiled to yourself, feeling the rush if adrenaline you were longing for in expeditions. You killed one after the other, laughing and smiling every time you eliminated one. The group you were helping is clear, they have nothing to fear anymore.

You screamed in joy before your ODM gear snaps off the tree, catching you off guard. You fell and fell, before being carried off by a cadet. He landed you on top of a tree, rather roughly. "What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?!" Levi yells, still trying to contain himself a little bit. You gasped and coughed, trying to catch your breathe, standing up whilst holding your left arm, which hurt a bit. You grinned before letting out a soft chuckle.

Levi walks towards you, drops his swords, letting out a soft clang as they hit the ground, and holds you by your shoulders. "Answer me, Y/N!" He yelled, shaking you a bit. Your eyes widened, your mouth left agape. Levi's eyes were dark, but you could see beyond it. They were filled with so much worry and it was like he cracked open. "Levi, I-" You started, but you get cut off. Levi lets go of you, bringing his hands up to his hair, pulling very hard in frustration.

Levi clears his throat, "Y/N, I can't believe you. What the hell are you doing here?!" He asked, yelling but you knew he didn't want any answers just yet because he wasn't done. He continued, " I asked you one simple thing, one! Why couldn't you just sit your fucking ass down in your room for a day? Is it so hard to do? Is it harder than killing titans!?"

Your jaw clenched, "Why? What do you really see in me Levi? Do you see me as just your assistant? For god's sake, I want to help and I can! But for some stupid fucking reason, you don't want me to. I signed up to be a Scout, I signed away my life, to help, to protect! Is that how you see me? Someone who'll just follow you around? I'm not your fucking dog, Levi!" You argued, starting to feel your eyes watering.

"Levi, I love you but you can't keep me locked up in a cage forever!" You yelled, turning around to wipe the tears in your eyes. You also didn't want to see even the tiniest speck of reaction from Levi's face. You just heard him grumble before continuing on yelling at you.

"Just one. I asked you to sit down one expedition and you can't even do that! You know what? When we return to headquarters, I want you out. I want you out of my team, I want you out of the Scouts. Go fucking patrol the city like those lazy brats instead! Save it!" He yelled, grabbing his swords and flying away and back to his squad. You just stood there, trying to process what just came out of Levi's mouth.

You? Out? You were in shock and disbelief. 'How could he?' You fell to your knees, covering your mouth, while you were screaming, all while tears fell down your cheeks. Before you could even process, you felt pressure on all parts of your body and it hurt. You turned your head around, seeing an abnormal titan. You gasped, trying to break free from it's grasp, but to no avail. You have nothing to fight with, your ODM gear was broken and you couldn't even grab your swords because of how tight this nasty titan was holding you.

You closed your eyes, breathing heavily.

Levi watched in horror as the titan threw you against the tree, wishing he could go faster towards you but it was too late. Your body fell down the tree with some of your blood smearing all over the tree. Levi went towards you, mouth wide open because of the sight. You were gone. He screamed, loud enough that it would probably be heard by the people back at your home, inside the walls. Levi blacked out, finding himself again by your body with the abnormal titans remains behind him.

He kneeled down, tears forming in his eyes. He didn't care if anyone was watching, he had lost someone important. "Brat, wake up." He cries softly, shaking your body a bit but he knew an impact like that would be fatal. "I didn't mean any of it, Y/N. I didn't mean any of what I said. I'm sorry, wake up." He softly said, repeating a lot of sorry's in between. "Why does it have to be you? Why not me?"

"I told you not to come because I love you. I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck." Levi snarled. "I didn't want you to come because I get worried you'll die!" He explained, hoping it would reach you, wherever you were.

'Why did she have to do that?' Levi thought. He didn't tell you he loves you and that's his biggest regret. "Just take me!" He roared. "Just fucking take me and bring her back, why her and not me? Why do I have to suffer here? In this good for nothing world?" He cried. Levi sees nothing else, no one else but you here, but now you're gone.

Levi kept on mumbling 'I love you' to you, again and again. He could say a thousand, even a million I love you's and it still wouldn't be enough for him to express the love he has for you. He cried and yelled, punching the ground, it hurt and his hands started bleeding, but it couldn't possibly hurt more that losing you.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N."

The love of his life, the one thing that kept Levi going and kept him from breaking was now gone.

[gf2bellamy]

concerned — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you have to go undercover and spencer doesn't like it content warnings: mention of unsub and his victims a/n: i'm definitely back in my spencer era <3

The conference room in the Arizona field office buzzed with tension, the weight of the serial killer case heavy on everyone’s shoulders. You had been working tirelessly alongside the team for days, pouring over profiles and victimology. The unsub had a clear pattern—targeting young women in bars, women who exuded just the right mix of confidence and vulnerability.   

Hotch stood at the front of the room, outlining the plan. As he reached the part about luring the unsub out, his gaze shifted to you.   

“You’ll be the target,” he said simply, like it was the most logical conclusion.   

Your stomach did a small flip, but you nodded, pushing aside any hesitation. After analyzing the victims’ profiles, it made sense. You fit his type.   

But before you could fully process the plan, a voice broke the silence.

“Wait—what?”   

You turned, startled, to see Spencer Reid, his wide eyes darting between you and Hotch. The entire team paused, their attention snapping to him.   

Hotch’s brow arched slightly, his expression unreadable. “Is there a problem, Reid?” he asked, his tone measured but pointed.   

Spencer froze, his face flushing a deep shade of red. He clearly hadn’t meant to speak out loud, and now he was trapped under the weight of everyone’s gaze.   

“Uh—uhm, I just… I thought maybe she could…” He stumbled over his words, gesturing vaguely toward the case files as if searching for an excuse. “...help me with… uh… something else? Or maybe—”   

He cut himself off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.   

Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. His sharp gaze flicked between you and Spencer, and you knew instantly that he had caught on to what was happening.   

Hotch didn’t look amused. His focus returned to you, dismissing Spencer’s flustered protest.

“Get ready,” he nodded at you, before returning to the briefing as if nothing had happened.   

As the team dispersed to prepare for the operation, Emily sidled up beside you, her expression sly.   

“Looks like someone’s a little worried about you,” she said with a teasing smile, her voice low enough that only you could hear.   

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “He’s just being... Spencer,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.   

Emily chuckled as she patted your arm. “Sure. Whatever you say.”   

She walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart thudding a little harder than it should have.   

You glanced over at Spencer, who was still at the far end of the room, pretending to busy himself with paperwork. He wasn’t looking at you now, but the pink flush on his cheeks hadn’t faded.   

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Maybe Emily wasn’t entirely wrong.   

Spencer was hunched over the file, his eyes darting across the page, but you could tell he wasn’t actually reading it.

Every so often, his gaze flicked up toward you and then quickly back down, like he was trying to be subtle and failing miserably.   

“Spence,” you said softly as you walked over to him.   

He stiffened slightly but looked up, meeting your gaze for the briefest of moments. “Hmm?” he hummed, his voice nonchalant, though you could see the unease written all over his face.   

You stopped in front of him, offering a small smile. “I’ll be okay. You know that, right?”   

His hand went to the back of his neck, scratching it nervously as he avoided your eyes. “I know that,” he mumbled, though his tone wasn’t convincing.   

“Do you?” You tilted your head, trying to catch his gaze.   

Spencer finally looked up at you, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “He just seems dangerous,” he said, his words spilling out quickly. “And fast. And I’m concerned that we won’t be quick enough, that something could happen to you before—”   

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm to stop the ramble before he could spiral further. The touch was brief—mindful of how Spencer felt about physical contact—but it was enough to catch his attention.   

“Spence, stop,” you said softly, cutting through his anxious train of thought.   

His eyes met yours fully now, the worry in them clear as day.   

“How about I ask Hotch if Derek can be in the bar too?” you suggested, your tone light, though you were serious. “As extra backup? Will that make you feel better?”   

He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing the idea. Then, with a small exhale, he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, a faint, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.   

“Good,” you said, grinning softly. “See? Problem solved.”   

Before you turned to leave, you gave his arm a light squeeze, the warmth of the gesture lingering for just a second.

“I’ll be fine, Spencer,” you said again, your voice calm.   

He watched you walk away, his eyes following you as if to reassure himself. Though he didn’t say it aloud, the small, grateful smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.