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laxyaklovesloz · 21 days ago

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Danny Phantom Revisit Season One

No knowledge of the fandom is needed. I'm rewriting the series from scratch. You can be a part of the fun by joining my Discord server!

Intro Song

“Your parents haven’t left the house in ages,” goth girl Sam Manson said to her best friend Danny Fenton.

“Yeah,” third best friend Tucker Foley added. “You have to take advantage of that!”

They descended the stairs into the massive basement lab, Danny in the lead. It was his house, after all, and his parents’ lab. He had been in the lab many times, tinkering with this or that while waiting for his parents to notice him. Right now, the computer was shut down for once, papers filled with notes littered the tables, and an ominous red glow lit the room. Danny felt better when he switched on the fluorescent lights upon reaching the bottom of the stairs.

“Plus, with Jazz at the library, we have the whole house to ourselves!” Tucker continued.

“Then why are we in the basement?” Danny lamented. He looked at the scattered papers and sighed. He would probably have to clean those up later. His parents often made him clean up the lab as part of his chores.

Tucker practically skipped to the far end of the room where a gaping hole filled the wall, saying, “Because of this, duh!”

That hole in the wall was the bane of Danny’s existence. It wasn’t just a random gap with a six-foot tunnel behind it. No, it was a portal his parents had been working on for as long as he could remember. They worked on it on and off for years until they hit a breakthrough a few months ago and spent all their waking hours fiddling with every detail since. Then, just that afternoon, they tried to plug it in, only to fail. They left the house dejected, muttering to each other about what went wrong.

“What about it?” Danny asked warily.

“Aren’t you at all curious what your parents have been up to?” Sam asked, smirking. She’s always smirking.

Danny had to admit he was. He stepped toward the portal as though in a trance. It was a metal ring with unlit lights. Beyond the opening, metal panels and wires filled the circular tunnel, so it looked like a futuristic tube. He wondered what it was like in the tube.

“Wait, put this on,” Sam said, tossing him a white hazmat suit with black accents from the cupboard.

Danny held it up, a skeptical look on his face. “Why?”

A flash went off and he looked up. Sam took his picture.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” she said with a chuckle. “It was hanging under a label with your name on it.”

“I didn’t know my parents made me one,” Danny said.

“Try it on!” Tucker said. “I wanna see it!”

Danny shrugged and slipped the suit over his clothes. (No way he was getting undressed in front of Sam.) It fit perfectly and even covered his shoes. There was one problem with it.

“Ew,” Sam said, “let’s get rid of that sticker.”

Danny’s dad’s face smiled from his chest. Sam peeled the sticker off and threw it aside. She took another picture.

“Much better,” Sam said.

“Looking fine!” Tucker added.

Danny gave a double thumbs up and grinned. “I look like an astronaut!”

“Yeah, space boy,” Sam said. “Are you going to go in the portal now?”

Danny’s smile dropped. “What? Go in there?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said. “It’ll look cool!”

“I thought that’s what you were going to do,” Sam questioned.

“Well, yeah, I guess I was…” Danny muttered. He turned back toward the portal and tunnel beyond. He was curious to see the wiring up close. He walked up to the edge and touched the portal ring. It was cold, even under the glove of the hazmat suit. He took a deep breath and said, “Here goes nothing.”

He stepped into the tunnel.

Nothing happened. He let out a breath and relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Why had he been so nervous? He chuckled and stepped deeper into the circular tunnel. He kept his hand on the wall, feeling the metal panels beneath his fingertips.

“Turn around and smile!” Sam said.

Danny smiled and turned around, and his hand hit a switch. Suddenly, everything stopped. There was another flash of light, but this one was much too big to be from Sam’s Polaroid. The light filled his vision, blocking out everything else.

He heard screaming next. Who was screaming? Oh, it was him! He realized everything hurt – no – seared. He never felt such intense pain before in his life. Everywhere from the tips of his toes to the hairs on his arms burned. He couldn’t tell if he was standing anymore, had no inclination of where up was. All he knew was pain, light, and screaming. Then the light faded until all was black. The screaming and the pain subsided.

Danny’s heart stopped.

~~~

“Turn around and smile!” Sam said.

She watched Danny start to turn, but his hand hit something, and the room filled with light. She and Tucker raised their arms to shield their eyes. A scream ripped the air, and Sam squinted into the light.

“Danny?!” she shouted, dropping the camera. She reached forward, but when her hands touched the light, they flared with excruciating pain. She fell backward with a startled yell. “Danny?” she cried again.

“What’s happening?” Tucker shouted. He sounded as scared as Sam felt.

“I don’t know!” Sam yelled back, tears streaming down her face. “Danny, get out of there!”

Danny’s scream seemed endless. The light, however, changed. Green took over the white, and it dimmed so it wasn’t blinding to look at. The green swirled in shades from forest to lime and seemed solid, like goo.

The screaming stopped. Sam’s heart pounded in her ears, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Where was Danny? Could she get to him now that the light was gone? Before she could will her body to move, Danny stumbled out from the green mass and landed in a heap on the floor. But he looked… different.

The first thing she noticed was a shock of white hair where his black hair used to be. Next, she saw that the colors of the jumpsuit had inverted. His skin was deathly pale, and no wonder. Whatever happened to him must have been traumatic. A glow seemed to come off him.

Danny rose to his hands and knees but kept his head down. Sam desperately wanted to see his eyes, to see if he was okay. She inched forward, still on the ground, and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. Or, tried to. Her hand went right through his shoulder.

…Like he was a ghost.

Sam gasped and fell back again. “D-danny? Are you… okay?” Was he… not breathing?

Danny shook his head as though to clear it. Then, he smiled up at her. His eyes… were bright green… just like the circling vortex behind him. (Not the beautiful blue she was used to.)

~~~

After the screaming subsided, Danny waited. He waited and waited and waited. For an eternity he waited. For no time at all he waited. He didn’t know what he waited for. He just waited.

A billion clocks chimed all at once. Some high-pitched and cheery. Some deep and gong-like. A pendulum swung on his left and he turned to look at it. The pendulum vanished into smoke, and he was left in darkness again. He stepped toward where the pendulum had been and stumbled. Ignoring his unsure footing, he pushed on. He had to get out of there. He had to get–

He was on the ground. His limbs felt like jelly, but his body felt light. Lighter than air, like he could fly off if he wanted to. He didn’t. Not yet.

“D-danny? Are you… okay?”

He was on his hands and knees now. He became aware of breathing around him. Quick breaths. Scared breaths. Louder-than-normal breaths. He heard the buzzing of the lights above. A comforting hum came from behind him. He shook his head and the noises calmed down.

Danny finally looked up to see his friends on the floor, staring at him with horror-filled faces. His smile dropped.

“What?” he asked. His voice sounded different like it had an echo to it. It harmonized with the hum behind him.

When his friends remained silent, he looked back to see what that hum was. To his surprise, the portal was filled with a brilliant green glow. He craned his neck, taking it all in. Something about that emerald expanse invited him in. He wanted to investigate…

“Don’t go!” Tucker and Sam shouted together.

Danny came to his senses. He stood – no, floated – in front of the portal with a hand outstretched. His fingertips brushed the surface of the portal, sending ripples to the edge. Understanding his situation, his eyes bulged and he moved to a mirror. He couldn’t say if he ran or flew, and that added to his fear.

Green eyes stared back at him, nestled under stark white hair. The black and white of his jumpsuit had inverted. He looked down and saw a wispy gray tail where his legs should be. His head felt light and his vision swam.

A white ring appeared around his middle and split into two. The two rings traveled up and down respectively, and where they passed changed back to the normal colors. To his relief, his legs came back, too. They felt wobbly, and he clung to the table to keep from falling. He took a deep, steadying breath. It felt like his first breath in a long time, but that didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense!

“What happened to me?” Danny desperately asked his reflection.

Sam and Tucker came to his side. Sam hesitated to touch Danny, and he turned to her.

“What is it?” he asked. “Why aren’t you touching me? Why are you crying? What’s with that… that transformation? Why did my hair change color? What is going on?” He waved his hands around with each word.

Sam caught his hands and held them. She stared into Danny’s terrified eyes, grounding him with her calm ones. In a steady voice, she said, “Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out.”

“Together,” Tucker interjected.

Sam nodded and went on. “What’s important is that you’re okay. You’re safe. We’re here with you.”

“Thanks, Sam, Tucker,” Danny said, his heartbeat slowing down.

He realized she was holding his hands and blushed. He took a step back, and his wrists phased through Sam’s hands. Did he just turn intangible?! He looked at his wrists. They were invisible. Invisible! They flashed back into view, and he rubbed one wrist with his other hand. His wrist was still there, still connected to him.

“What’s going on?” he shouted.

“Dude, chill out.” It was Tucker’s turn to calm him down. “Remember what Sam just said.”

“Right,” Danny said. “Chill out, Fenton. Everything will be fine–”

The rings returned and Danny transformed again. He still had his legs, so that was a relief. He couldn’t help but smile at the weightless feeling. Before he knew it, he was floating a few inches off the ground.

“Dude,” Tucker said, “I think you have ghost powers!”

“Ghost… powers?” Danny wondered.

Tucker put a hand through Danny’s side to illustrate. “See? I can’t touch you in this form. You’re a ghost. Change back to your human form.”

“How?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know,” Tucker said. “That’s up to you to figure out. But you better do it before your parents get home or–”

“My parents!” Danny said, startled. The rings reappeared and he turned back into his normal – human – self. “They’re obsessed with ghosts! What will they do if they find out I’m…”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t tell ‘em. I know I won’t tell my parents.”

“You especially can’t tell Jazz,” Tucker said.

Danny laughed. “Yeah, she’ll psychoanalyze me about it.” His mirth faded when he thought about what she might ask him about. “Guys… did I… die?”

The word hung heavy in the room.

Sam was the first to recover. “Pfft, no. You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

Danny took a deliberate breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And your heart’s still beating?”

He felt his pulse. “Yeah.”

“See, you’re not– that,” Sam concluded, even though she couldn’t say the word “dead.” “You’re perfectly healthy.”

“With an added power buff,” Tucker said.

Danny chuckled. “Alright, thanks, guys. You’re the best.” He squeezed them tightly in a hug, soaking in the feeling of realness.

“We love you, too, Danny,” Tucker snarked.

After the hug, Danny said, “Will you help me learn how to control these powers?”

“I told you,” Tucker said, “that’s on you–”

Sam cut him off with a jab from her elbow. “Of course, we’ll help you! Let’s get started right away!”

#danny phantom #I'm rewriting it

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spacedustandpirates · 2 years ago

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A year ago.. part three

[Captain] It always felt like getting punched in the gut, and then doubling over afterwards, when they came out of warp. Or maybe that was just the industrial warp engine their ship had, not as smooth as those luxury liners.. That, and he hadn't even been close to strapped in when Aylin punched it. The sudden deceleration threw him to the floor of the cargo hold and he lay there sprawled out getting his bearings.

"Aylin.. Where'd we end up and are they following us?" The captain asked after a few moments, working his way up through the ship towards the bridge and where she'd be. [Aylin] It took a special kinda person to not only fly a ship but fragment their attention enough to give dozens of things a bit of notice at the same time and not go mad. Luckily for them, their pilot had a severe focus issue in the first place. At some point, their fight or flight music changed and just added to the chaos that hadn’t been contained to the bridge as of yet. Aylin danced in the half-circle seat, legs crisscross apple sauce and arms stretched over her head with fingers doing gimme grabs to the air. Her flying goggles remained in place, data scrolling before her eyes, music drowning everything but the stars and data, and monitors checked and rechecked in brief sideways peeks.

She waited until the stars ceased to blur before she answered. “We gonna talk about why we hot-footed outta there? This jellyfish can’t take that kinda heat captain, she likes slow and steady. I think they shot at er also, that is fuckin’ rude.” Her arms dropped once he made it to the bridge, thumbs pressing the underside of the goggles until they pinched her brow instead. “We landed in.. Zaebokira’s sun, I think the black bits. Not much interesting here by the looks of it so far, I sorta pointed and went - if they wanted to follow, they would have and that warbird is way faster than us so I think we are good.”

She exhaled and slouched in her chair, her dark stare on him. Her suit pinched at her hips, unzipped with arms tied so that her belly and up were exposed but still covered! Instead of a space-faring top, she wore a ragged blue sweater that had been so stretched out it hung off one shoulder with the slouch.

[Kieran] Kieran had locked himself down in his seat before he'd had a chance to remove his helmet. He did so now, the rugged features of the ranger coming into view as he made his way to the armory and stowed his rifle back into place, then returned to the armor locker to have it remove the heavy combat armor he'd worn. He hadn't come through unscathed, he'd have to repair the equipment before the next outing.

He made his way to the bridge, just in time to hear Aylin complain about shooting at the ship. "Sorry about that, Aylin. They were shooting at me. What in the hell happened in there, Cap," he asked, turning towards him. "There wasn't supposed to be any hostilities." [Aylin] Aylin’s naked toes of her right leg became her ores as she used them to push against the floor and turn herself slightly more towards Kieran as he arrived. “Aww s’okay, Kieran. You didn’t even go inside, can’t blame you for cover fire.”

As Kieran took over questioning the captain, she settled in to listen, turning herself in a complete circle. Each time she passed the main display she reached out, touched something here or there before making another complete turn.

[Corso] "Aha… what a rush." Corso said as he unbuckled his harness and leaned forward in his seat. It took him a moment to shake off that light headedness that followed…. especially when one had been drinking alittle. He pushed himself to his feet and followed after the captain, eager to find out just where the hell they had warped to. Entering the bridge, he wasted no time plopping down at his station to kick his feet up as he fired up his console.

"All things considerd, were getting better at this." He smirked as he scanned long range comms for any sort of chatter pertaining to them. "Noone needed a trip to the Medbay this time." After finding nothing of intrest, he reclined his chair back just enough that he could still see and coverse with everyone. "Shame shit went south though. Fridge is starting to look pretty barren." [Captain] The captain's fist smacked against the bulkhead, smirking to himself as he listened to Aylin over the comm's. "Yeah, she does. She can take a rough tumble in the sheets now and then, though. If it couldn't be done I wouldn't have asked, Aylin." The hiss of the door opening up to reveal the bridge and that dark stare from the pilot herself as he stepped through.

"Better question would by why half of you are surprised at a bit of violence in a pirates nest like that one as it is. It was either that or Corso and I got strung up like trophies for insulting Xinjex's sister. You all would have hated the job offered anyways so now's about we best be lookin' for better options. I don't want to be drawin' straws for who gets eaten first when we're starving." His stride bringing her to where Aylin sat and on that next rotation of her spinning seat his hands came to rest atop the back of it, peering over the multitude of displays and endless space beyond the glass of the bridge. "Get a scan going, if there's nothing interesting out there I'd like to keep it that way for the moment."

"Corso, see if you can hone in on any colonist frequencies. There's always salvage nearby wherever they're at and that's a spot of quick credits to tie us over for a bit."

[Aylin] “No surprise here Captain, trouble just likes to find you – I wanted the dirrrrrrrt. I never get ta leave the ship and get chased by pirate aliens through a cored asteroid with hookers and gun dealers and …” The twisting was stopped and she lulled her head back to blink owlishly up at the underside of his chin.

“Did it when we arrived - we are sitting in the black but you got a few things out there that look pretty.” She dropped her stare from his chin and exhaled, leaning forward to change topics and displays quickly.

“See here? You got Zaebokira, type M. Nothing really special. I suppose. Lots of registered dead planets - mighty good for salvaging but where there is dead - there are pirates. Only plus size is that that means Zirax aren’t looking too much over here.”

“Oh, an Captain? Corso gets eaten first - we drew straws last time.” [Corso] "Enough beef cake to keep you all going for atleast a few more days." He flashed Aylin a smirk before slipping his headphones on and giving his full attention to the screen before him. He lazily flicked his finger at the reciver, tuning up and down the numerous radio waves of varying strengths.

"Ohh, heres a good one." He flicked the loudspeaker switch on his console on. A very monotone alien came over the loudspeaker, seeming to repeat its message over and over again. "Annnnd for the translation." His fingers danced across the keyboard, swiftly changing the alien language to english. "Weve been trying to reach you about your spaceships extended warranty."

"Fuck, even all the way out here we cant get away from these god damn scam calls!" He leaned down and flipped open the door to the little minifridge beneath his console and pulled out a beer, frowing at how few remained within. He cracked the can open and took a long, joyful sip before poking at his screen. "Got one here." He dragged his fingers across the screen and shot them out towards the large bridge monitor to transfer his data that they all might see. "Distress signal. Colonist frequency, but weaker than all hell."

[Captain] The captain chuckled as he peered down at Aylin, shaking his head. "Tell ya all the grubby details about it later.. Next time we draw straws, can draw for who has to stay on the ship." Afterwards, he'd look to where she pointed as her focus moved to the screens. "Well, no Zirax in sight is a pretty good plus.." When Corso's screen popped up on the main display before him he'd stand straight, folding his arms up across his chest. "Distress signal? There any way to get a scan near where it's comin' from? Like Aylin says, could be pirates.." [Aylin] “Pirates … sneaky beaky pirates.” She kept her goggles on her brow, and since he was no longer holding her chair, she used her toes to turn herself in a circle once more.

“So.. Captain – did you grab me a cookie on the way out or..” Her chair turned until it faced him, its back to the window and screens. As soon as the chair stopped she peered up at him and coaxed her lips into a pout that clashed with the hope that was rapidly dying. She saw no cookies on him - not even broken ones! Not even CRUMBS. Corso’s whoring strikes again. (edited)

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neonacity · 3 years ago

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ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.1 | NCT DREAM X READER |

Inizio (n) : an Italian word for the beginning or start of something.

*****

Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.

But will this war end with a crowned hero?

Or will it just create another mad villain?

*****

Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist. Since the lore is highly dependent on the first book, I highly suggest you check it out first—otherwise, new readers might have a hard time understanding what is happening here. Expect lots of time jumps and flashbacks throughout the chapters.

Pairings: Dream 00' Line + Mark x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI. Please do not repost. I only publish my works in Tumblr.

[A year ago]

The crunch of gravel and the soft mechanical hum of the engine pierced the warm summer air as a black sedan wove through the driveway. It was mid-afternoon so the sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky, but it was bright enough still to make the Victorian-style complex sparkle in its full glory under the clear blue skies. A pair of eyes hidden behind dark glasses observed it now from the comforts of her car, her gaze going through the most intricate of details in the manor's architecture. From a normal bystander, the building would look nothing more than an average, quiet boarding school, but of course she knew better than be fooled by its innocent charm. After giving it one last run through, she finally unlocked her door and stepped out into the light outside.

The girl quietly crossed the driveway and climbed the short flight of steps to the oak double doors with grace. The moment she stepped on the entrance, it was like something in the air shifted and an invisible barrier parted for her. Average people wouldn't notice it, but she'd learned to spot the slight glimmer of force field that often shields the academy from unknowing, mundane eyes. An amused smile curved her lips as she waited for the barrier to make way for her, revealing beyond it what seemed like an entirely different world. As if a switch was turned on, the once quiet and serene air suddenly became alive with the sound of muffled chit chat beyond. Without wasting another second, she reached out for the brass handle to reveal what’s on the other side of the door.

The sight of a busy foyer welcomed her in its full glory. Dozens and dozens of students were milling around, chatting with each other as they lugged their book bags in various states of excitement and relief. It was obvious from the buzz that everyone had just gotten out of class and she couldn’t help but smile just taking the energy in.

Nobody really paid her much attention with all the ruckus in the place, not until she finally started making her way towards the grand staircase that opened up to the other parts of the manor. Though she tried her best to keep herself on the down low as she walked past, she unfortunately stuck like a sore thumb in the sea of uniformed students with her casual clothes. Just as soon as she passed, the chatter died down into soft whispers as the eyes of everyone in the room swiveled towards her. She kept her gaze straight and her stance unaffected, despite the whispered words that replaced the boisterous noise she was just enjoying earlier.

"She's here…"

"The headmaster's daughter?"

"Yes. I heard she was in England for boarding school."

"No, I think she just finished college."

"She's so cool."

"Good afternoon, Miss."

You finally stopped in your tracks as one of the students finally addressed you directly. To be honest, you weren't expecting any of them to have the guts to actually talk to you, so you turned to look at her now, removing your glasses so you could address her politely.

"Hi. Do you happen to know if my father is here…?"

The younger girl immediately straightened her back at your question. She seemed surprised and unprepared about you initiating an actual conversation, and her face burned bright just as you and the rest of the room turned their gaze on her. She opened her mouth and closed it again as she tried to grasp for an answer, and you let her gather her thoughts patiently by keeping a steady smile on your lips.

"He—We heard that he is on a—a business trip, miss," the student finally managed to stutter. Your expression ever so slightly dropped in disappointment at her reply, but you were quick enough to pick it back up when you noticed her give you a nervous look.

"Is that so? Thanks for letting me know then," you said softly as you gave her a nod. "Would you know where the classroom of Class 7 is though?"

"I—It's on the second floor, left wing. The third one from the fourth corridor."

You smiled and gave her a slight bow of thanks.

"Thanks for letting me know. Be careful on your way home," you said before turning to continue on your way, leaving the quiet crowd behind.

*******

The walk to the room was quick. Any new visitor to the academy can easily get lost in the maze of similar-looking hallways, but you knew the place like the back of your hand from your regular visits. You noticed how nothing has virtually changed in the last two years since you came, with the corridors' white painted doors, bronze fixtures, and oak walls still looking exactly the same as you could remember. You gently ran your fingers on the polished wood as you walked past them now, your steps slowing down as a familiar-looking room came into view. The door was wide open and you could clearly hear voices coming from the inside, but you stopped just at the edge of the doorway, safely hidden from its occupants. The sound of a distinct whine floating in the hallway told you that you’ve found the right place.

"All I'm saying is that, I don't understand why Romeo and Juliet is considered one of the best romances of all time. It was a full-on mess. Girl fake kills self, boy kills himself too because of it so girl finally kills self for real. Total train wreck. It's not a love story, it's a classic case of miscommunication."

"Are you sure you're not saying that just because Mr. Lee didn't give us The Lord of Flies as our book assignment this quarter?"

"Meh, it's more interesting anyway. And Romeo isn't at all hot as he is made out to be. He wanted to marry Juliet less than 24 hours of meeting her," the boy argued. You could almost see him rolling his eyes in your head.

"And just before that, he was madly in love with Juliet's cousin, Rosaline," you butted in as you finally pushed back from the wall and turned the corner to show yourself. "Lesson of the day, don't be as fickle as Romeo." You watched, amused, as the two boys in the room whipped their heads towards you, their eyes rounding in unison after.

"Noona!"

Your smile widened.

"Hello, Chenle and Jisung."

The older of the two was quick on his feet as you walked towards them. Chenle met you halfway, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he beamed at you.

"When did you arrive? We thought you'll be coming back next week!"

"I was supposed to, but I was able to finish my clearance early so I thought why wait longer?"

"Do the others know? The Headmaster left just a few days ago though," Jisung also joined in after he picked himself up from his seat.

"Yeah, I heard. I was supposed to surprise Papa. And no, the others don't have any idea yet. You're the first ones I looked for—oh my gosh you two have grown so tall! You're like trees now!" You said distractedly as you noticed for the first time how the pair loomed over you. Chenle snickered at your reaction while Jisung scratched the back of his head with a small smile.

"We've always been taller than you, even before you left, noona~"

"No, but not like this! And it's only been two years. You're not my babies anymore."

"Well, I am not. I'm a grown up now. Jisung still is though," Chenle said, jabbing his thumb towards the other boy. The latter openly scowled at his friend.

"You're literally less than three months older than me."

"Still the hyung though~"

You laughed seeing the banter between the two. Just like that, the nostalgia came back to you in waves as if you never left. Two years didn't seem like a long time passing, but you could clearly see the difference it makes now just looking at the duo. Have you really been gone that long?

"Well, do you know where the others are? I guess they're done with their classes too. We should meet them."

"Uh… I think Mark-hyung has club activities. Renjun and Haechan-hyung are probably back in their dorm rooms and I'm betting my fortune that Jeno-hyung escaped outside as soon as class ended. Jaemin-hyung is probably just somewhere, sneaking around with a girl," Chenle snickered. Jisung nudged him a little by the shoulder as you blinked.

"Oh, does he have a girlfriend now?"

"Girlfriends would be the right term, something you wouldn't have to worry about with me," a new voice spoke out from the doorway. Looking around, you saw two boys walk over, a brunette and a dark-haired one who rolled his eyes at the other's quip.

"You being a virgin is not something to be proud of, Lee."

"Big words coming from someone in the same boat as me, Huang."

You waited for both boys to finally join your trio with a grin. The taller of the two gave you a wink as soon as he was close enough while the other gave you a warm smile in greeting.

"Welcome back, princess. Missed me?"

"Maybe. How did you know I’m here, Haechan?"

"Through my undying, unrequited love connection with you, of course. How else?"

You raised a brow at him before turning your gaze towards the other newcomer in confirmation.

"He heard it from the students since he is the school's number one gossip," the boy said flatly. "I felt your aura though."

You grinned.

"Now, that's sweeter, Renjun."

"Ouch."

"You should have told us you were coming though," the older of the two continued. "The headmaster was looking forward to it."

You softened up a little upon hearing that. While you wouldn't really say that your relationship with your father was conventionally close, you also were looking forward to surprise him today. After all, it’s been two years of minimal contact with him, too.

"Did he tell any of you where he was going?" You asked casually now to keep the disappointment from leaking in your voice. The boys exchanged looks, but it was Haechan who ultimately answered the question.

"No, maybe he gave Mark an idea though. Or any of the teachers."

"Right…" you nodded. "I guess I do have to look for Mark. Any idea on where he is?"

"Pretty sure he heard you're back now so he must be somewhere waiting for you too," Renjun answered.

That made you smile. "If that's the case, then I know where to find him," you gave each boy a quick glance before stepping away from your circle and turning towards the door. "I'll see you later? I'll be using the old room I always use when I visit."

"Will you have dinner with us, noona?" Jisung asked just before you disappeared in the hallway again. You looked back and gave him a wink.

"It's a group date."

*******

The smell of old books welcomed you just as soon as you took a step into the rug-covered floor of the library. It was after school hours so the place looked a little darker with the lights still out, but sunlight streamed from the wide, spacious windows, throwing enough illumination to let you make out some of the titles in the towering bookshelves that you now passed through. The place was large, but it didn't take you long to find who you were looking for, leaning against one of the shelves with a book open in his hand.

"Let me guess… Othello?"

The boy looked up from the pages he was reading when you called out to him. Gazes meeting, you gave him a smile as you started walking towards him. You stopped just across where he was leaning, your back pressing against the opposite bookshelf. He closed the book he had been holding and raised slightly to show you its cover.

"Iliad and Odyssey, actually," he answered as he shifted his eyes away from yours to study the intricate embossing on the hardback's face. Your brows lifted at his answer.

"Interesting choice. I thought you hated it."

"I did. Before. So many things can change in a few years though," Mark answered as he shot you a look. You paused at the implication of his words. You weren't stupid, of course… Especially not when it comes to him.

"I wonder what else changed with my best friend then," you replied back, your voice steady as you held his gaze. You saw the exact moment the light in his eyes slightly flickered at your choice of endearment, as if there was a wall you were able to shake. You slowly smiled. You caught him… and he knows it too. After a few moments of silence, he sighed and looked away.

"That's not fair."

You laughed and finally took a step closer to close the distance between the two of you. He easily opened his arms and welcomed you into a hug.

"I missed you, Markie," you whispered as you pressed yourself closer to him. You thought you felt his lips graze the top of your head as he let you melt into his embrace.

"I missed you too… Took you so long to come back."

You pulled away to look at him. He didn't really let you go, holding you at arm's length instead.

"You know how it is. Orders from my father. He was even making sure my calls to Rosewood are kept at a minimum."

You said that casually, but the way Mark looked at you told you that you didn't fool him a fraction. Sometimes, you hate how growing up as childhood friends gives him a better read of you.

"It's for your own good. He's only doing it to protect you," he slowly said, sounding half-hearted himself. You simply laughed and shrugged.

"By throwing me to college, faking my last name, and acting like I don't know anyone here? Sure, Mark. I've always known. It's always been like that anyway."

You finally stepped away and tried to shift your attention to the books surrounding the two of you. You could still feel his eyes on you, but he didn't really say anything, knowing that there is nothing he can offer to make that statement better. It was you who broke the silence again after a bit.

"So, speaking of my father. I heard he suddenly left for something. Did he tell you where he was going?"

Mark slightly shook his head and finally returned the book he had been holding. "No, he didn't. From what I heard from Kun-hyung and the other teachers though, he packed up at the last minute. I doubt he told them anything though."

"I see…"

The boy peered at you again as he buried his hands in his pockets.

"But he knows you are supposed to be arriving soon, so I'm sure he won't be gone for long. He's excited to see you too."

That made you slightly smile. If there is one thing Mark is so good about, it's helping you feel better.

"Till then, I'll have to crash in one of the dorm rooms here again. You wouldn't mind that, would you, Mr. Prefect?"

He slightly raised a brow at you. "Even if I don't, do you think the others will let me off if I say no?"

"Nope~"

"Exactly. Besides…" he trailed off as he levelled his gaze on you. He didn't speak for a couple of heartbeats, but the way he stared at you—as if he was seeing things you couldn't even see in yourself in the first place—made you stop. He smiled, causing your chest to slightly squeeze even before you heard his words.

"You always have a home here."

*******

The shadows in the hallways have already lengthened as you walked idly in the silent corridors. Beyond the wide windows, the sun had dipped closer and closer to the horizon, its once bright glow turning warmer by the minute. There are only a few hours left before dinner and you still need to unpack, but you also wanted to spend some quiet time going around the place your father considers his second home.

You guess, in a way, Rosewood was also the same for you, but realistically, you haven't spent enough time here as much as he does. It was more like a seasonal vacation place for you, one you were only allowed to intermittently visit every couple of months—sometimes even years—while you were growing up. Even then, it was a tough decision for your father to make, one that you were convinced he wouldn’t have done if not for him seeing how isolation slowly chipped at you as a child.

And so adjustments and special arrangements were made. Unlike the residents of Rosewood and those in the Family network enrolled here as students, you were thrown to live a normal life—attending normal schools and adopting a different last name to the "outside world." And while you were allowed to visit and reconnect with the rest every now and then, your identity as a Master was hidden from the rest of the family, all except for the ones personally handpicked by your father himself. To the rest of the network, you were simply a daughter of the headmaster, a high-standing member of the family, but one who is still devoid of any Arcana powers. In short, you were living two very different lives…

An ironic feat, since you felt like you didn't belong anywhere still.

A view of a familiar-looking door made you finally stop your aimless wandering when you turned the corner. It has been a couple of years, but there is no way you can forget this particular room after the numerous times you have sneaked in here before. You stared at it briefly now, noting the pale spot where the 'Piano Room' plank used to be nailed on the wood. Without thinking too much on it, you reached out for the handle and turned it slightly. The lock caught a bit when you tried to push it open, but then it gave way in your hand again, giving you a peek of the room beyond.

The first thing that registered to you was how dark it was inside. Unlike the corridors where sunlight streamed in from the windows, the same glass panels in the room were boarded up and covered by heavy curtains, casting everything with deeper shadows. The only source of light was from a lone open window where the dying rays from the sun managed to pierce through. You blinked. You were about to flip the switch on the wall beside you when a sudden movement made you start in surprise.

A darker shade of shadows moved from the edge of the open window, followed by some strange rustling. In your shock, you quickly turned on the light just as you took a step back. The sudden brightness blinded you, but your eyes were soon enough rounding in surprise when you finally realized what you were looking at.

The shadow was actually plural—a boy and a girl, to be exact, tangled together against the wall. Their hair was as crumpled as their school uniforms, but those were actually the least that caught your attention. Your eyes moved from the girl's mortified face staring at you…

And locked with the deep brown gaze of Na Jaemin.

"Oh, I apologize, I didn't realize the room was taken," you said promptly as things clicked in your head. You took another step back and was just about to close the door again when the female's panicked voice called out to you again.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know you were back, Miss!"

You paused in the middle of leaving and blinked at the student in mild confusion. Her face didn't really ring a bell in your head, but the way she had paled so much under the light almost made you feel bad for her. You watched as she quickly detached herself from Jaemin and tried to fix her uniform. The boy in question didn't react, his quiet gaze resting on you still.

"That's fine. I can leave…" you offered carefully. The girl didn't seem like she heard you, rushing instead towards the door with her head down. She briefly stopped in front of you and bowed deeper in apology.

"I'm really really sorry, I didn't mean it—I-I'll leave now—"

And she did—literally speed walking in the corridor before you could even say another word. You watched her, worried, until she finally disappeared around the corner.

"Why is your girlfriend apologizing to me…?"

You slowly looked over to the boy left in the room. Jaemin was still staring at you intently, his expression devoid of any look of worry over being left in the middle of a makeout session. He didn't even bother fixing his shirt, his tie still loose around his neck.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Your brows rose ever so slightly.

"Interesting choice of recreational activity for a non-girlfriend then."

Your comment finally and slowly made his lips twitch into a smile.

"Does it bother you?"

You gave him a deadpanned look.

"No. Why would it?"

"Don't ex-girlfriends usually have those moments?"

In that moment, it was like an invisible switch was turned on and the air had turned denser. None of you broke eye contact with each other, waiting for the other one to give way. Finally, you slowly turned your body to fully face him and started moving deeper into the room. Jaemin watched you steadily, noticing the change in your mood.

"Oh, I'm your ex-girlfriend now?” You asked, stopping close enough for him to easily touch you if he wanted to. He didn't move away the slightest, his breath still fanning your face. You smiled. "Funny… We've never really been into labels before."

"If not that, what would you call it then?" He challenged, his own brow quirking.

"I don't know, a summer fling?"

"Just a summer?"

"Fine. Maybe you can add an 's' somewhere there."

Jaemin's smile finally grew a little bit more honest this time. And just like that, the tensed friction between the two of you was gone as you looked at him with the same lightheartedness in your smile. He reached out for your waist and tried to pull you closer before dipping his head towards yours. You jokingly pushed him away, your nose scrunched in disgust.

"Ew. You're seriously trying to kiss me when you have another woman's lip gloss all over you?"

He laughed, the sound ringing in the vacant room.

"So you are jealous."

"No, I'm not," you answered as you sidestepped him so you could sit on the windowsill. "I'm more surprised at how you've transformed into this total heartbreaker in just two years."

"Two years is a pretty long time."

"Apparently, yes, according to Mark and the others."

Jaemin buried his hands in his pockets and stared at you silently for a moment.

"So you've met all of them again already?"

You didn't answer immediately. Instead, you gave a casual shrug, one you know Jaemin will never be fooled by. The way he looked at you told you that he could read you as clear as day.

"Most of them, yes. I think everyone knows I am here by now."

"But you haven't talked to him yet. Have you?"

This time, you kept silent. Jaemin didn't move from his spot, just quietly observing the way the sun's dying light played on your features. It took him a while to finally sigh and take a step closer to you. When you still didn't meet his eyes, he gently lifted your chin with his finger so you could look at him.

"I think you already know where he is. He'd always spend the end of the day in the same place… Ever since you left."

Your heart constricted in your chest. Jaemin smiled and gently ran a finger on the edge of your lips.

"There's still an hour before dinner," he continued, a silent implication evident in his tone. You sighed softly before giving him a small smile.

"Will you reserve some pot roast for me?"

He nodded. "I'll make sure Chenle doesn't inhale all of them."

You laughed. Finally, you pushed yourself off the wall and reached for his hand still resting on your cheek. You made sure to give it a gentle squeeze before he let you go.

"Thank you. I promise I'll be back after sundown."

"Mmn…"

With one last smile, you stepped away from him and started making your way out. Jaemin took a moment before deciding to call out to you once more.

"Hey.”

You turned to him curiously just before you passed the doorway.

“I'm serious though. She really isn't my girlfriend." He paused before speaking again. "I have very specific tastes in my women."

Your eyes flickered and you smiled.

"I know."

*******

The sky was already painted with warm gold by the time you managed to make your way to the forest path that connected the school to the woods beyond. It was only a few minutes till nightfall so the air bit your skin with a tinge of chill, but you didn't mind it, pushing ahead until the spot you were looking for finally came to view. It was an oak tree standing atop a small hill that overlooked the rest of the forest, with foliage that cast a comforting shadow on the ground it touches. Some of its branches swooped so low that it almost kissed the ground, with others reaching out to the heavens above. It was one of the oldest trees in the forest, and one that you've always loved visiting back when you were younger.

You reached out to the branch closest to you now as you looked out into the stunning view beyond. From where you stood, you could see the way the sun almost dipped into the horizon, its glow making the tips of the trees it touched glow like embers. A slight breeze made the leaves above dance as it passed.

"You're still not wearing your uniform properly, huh?"

At first nobody answered the question that you threw in the air. A few heartbeats passed until a rustling came from somewhere higher on your left.

"And you're still acting like the school's behavior patrol."

You smiled. Turning your head to look upwards, your eyes landed on a boy currently sitting on the higher branches of the tree. Unlike the rest that you met earlier, he wasn't wearing a blazer and the sleeves of his button down were folded to his elbows. His tie was loose, also slightly blowing in the wind. He wasn't looking at you—his eyes also set on the view you were appreciating—and the rays from the sunset kissed the angles of his face in a way that almost made your heart ache.

"Hello, Jeno."

The sound of his name almost broke through his shell. The emotion behind his eyes flickered before he finally looked at you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm back. I came for you so we can all have dinner together."

He didn't say anything after that. He simply looked at you, an unfathomable expression in his face.

"Jaemin said you're always here. I see you haven't changed at all. This is still your favorite place."

"I wasn't counting on you to come back."

You stopped at the bluntness of his words. His tone didn't have any malicious inflection in them, just a straightforwardness that somehow made it worse. For a moment the two of you just stared at each other, both trying to read off things none of you were ready to talk about yet.

"You weren't counting on me to come back, or did you not want me to come back? Because those two are very different things."

"Why does it matter which one of those I mean?"

"Because you are one of the reasons why I'm here."

This time, it was him who had to pause. The sky was slowly getting dark—with the night's first stars finally peeking behind the clouds—but you could still read the emotions that quickly passed his face even in the growing dimness around you.

"I promised you before I left that I will come back. I've always come back," you continued. Jeno still didn't say anything, the silence stretching between the two of you as the sun finally dipped out to make way for the moon. Just when you thought you will never be getting an answer, he made a move and jumped off the branch he was sitting on. He gracefully landed on his feet and slowly crossed the distance to where you were standing. He stopped at a distance where both your breaths fanned each other's faces, though he kept his hands buried in his pockets still. You didn't flinch, your gaze unwavering from his.

"So your father gave you an exit plan, a chance to live a normal life, but you still came back and chose this mess. Why?"

"Because this is where I belong."

"You're mad."

"I am. And I'd rather be that than be a hypocrite like you who tries to push me away even though you're so desperate to touch me again."

Something in the way he looked at you shifted as you said those words. The thickness of the air between the two of you was so palpable that you could almost taste it at the back of your tongue. Just when you thought it would break, Jeno took another step closer to your space. The warm feeling of hands settled on your waist, and it took you everything to stop yourself from entirely melting on it. His eyes silently danced over your features, as if he's still trying to figure out if you were real or not.

"I will never understand you…"

"You don't have to."

He lifted one of his hands so he could touch your face. His fingers were cold, clashing against your warmth. You couldn't help but finally smile as you leaned your cheek closer to his palm. He wouldn't say it, but you know exactly what he was thinking.

"I missed you too, Jeno."

His thumb rested on your lower lip. "How long are you staying?"

"For the whole summer. I got a scholarship so I have to go back, but I'll be returning more here. That was a condition I struck with Papa."

"I guess the others already know, too?"

You nodded. Jeno lowered his hand again but continued staring at you intently. It felt like he wanted to tell you something, but you reached out for his hand again before he could say anything.

"Come to my room tonight?" You asked softly. Something flickered in his eyes before he answered.

"Will Jaemin be there too?"

"Do you want him to be there?"

He didn't immediately answer.

"No."

You gave a slight nod. "Then I'll see you after dinner."

Instead of replying, he simply stood there, momentarily silent as he turned the thoughts one by one in his head. Finally, he asked that one question you have been expecting all along.

"Are you really back for good this time?"

You slowly smiled.

"Yes… I am."

*******

[Present Day]

The silence that hung in the room can almost be physically felt in the condensed air. You tried to adjust yourself from the bloody bed you were still sitting on, your face expressionless as you glanced at the red stain that covered your stomach down to your legs. Everyone watched you silently as you pressed a palm against the once gaping hole in your flesh, your hand only getting in contact with the smooth skin there. You smiled before your eyes slowly lifted to the boys standing close to your right.

“You did such a good job patching me up, Chenle. Jisung.”

Your voice was soft, but it was like a trigger everyone needed to finally breathe again. Chenle’s face fell and he looked away while Jisung seemed to have finally gotten over his shock, lips twitching. A look of guilt flashed in you as you saw the boy’s eyes start to water, as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Ah… I’m sorry… Did I scare you, honey?” you asked, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. Jisung bowed his head a little bit and gave a shaky nod.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to bring you back. Your heart wasn’t beating.”

Your chest squeezed. Chenle looked more calm beside him, though his shoulders were set as if he was holding himself back from something.

“Are you hurting?” he managed to ask. You shook your head and tried to reach out to him too with your other free hand. The blood in your fingers stained his pale hand, but he didn’t move away.

“I’m not. You did so great. Both of you.”

You didn’t need to look around to know that the rest of the room was also in various states of relief and high tension. Haechan, who was covered the most in your blood, had to step away from the bed to try and take in a steadying breath. Across the room, Kun and Ten exchanged a charged look between each other as they silently observed the scene. Jaemin and Mark didn’t move from where they were standing, their eyes still set on you, while Renjun reached out for the back of your head to carefully get your attention. Compared to the rest of the boys who had pale, shaken looks on their faces, he looked a little bit more collected as if he’d just recovered from something. You turned to smile at him and he returned the gesture.

“Renjun, how are you feeling?”

“So much better… The others though, I can’t speak for them.”

At that, your eyes immediately found Jeno who was still standing by your side. He was looking at you, but you could see from the way he held himself that he was fighting to stay conscious by the second. Without breaking eye contact, you reached out to touch his hand again. His fingers wove with yours as soon as you did.

“Jeno, I’m fine… You should rest.”

He didn't say anything. From the side, Jaemin silently moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder after exchanging a meaningful glance with you. Jeno flinched, though he really didn’t fight the induced sleep that took over him in a second. Jaemin and Renjun caught him as he finally went limp, your eyes catching the former momentarily after.

“Thank you…”

Jaemin held your gaze quietly, before giving a simple nod.

Your eyes lingered on them before finally turning to Haechan and Mark. Haechan was trying his best to avoid your gaze—still trying to recover from the shock of almost seeing you die, so you turned your attention to Mark instead when he still refused to look your way. Out of everyone in the room, he was the one that looked the most collected on the surface next to Renjun, but you knew enough to be convinced by the front he was putting. You tried to get off the bed in a motion to get closer to him, but he was quick enough to try and put a stop to it.

“Don’t. Stay there. You’re still sore.”

You didn’t listen. Barefooted, you walked towards him despite the ache in your muscles. Chenle might have patched you up successfully, but your flesh was still screaming from the forced mending that your body had to go through. You didn’t let it stop you though, your feet only stopping when you were close enough to be touched by him. Mark’s jaw ticked as he looked at you, a glimpse of the emotions he was trying to hold back slipping momentarily from his facade.

“Mark… I’m alright. You can touch me if you want. It’s fine... I’m fine.”

He didn’t move at first. Just when you thought he would step back, you felt him tug you towards him instead. Your eyes closed as his arms wrapped around you, and you reached up to hold the back of his head.

“You did so well… All of you. Thank you," you whispered to him quietly.

The sudden banging of a door tore the room before he could even answer. You looked around just in time to see a girl rush in, her hair in disarray as if she had been running. Her eyes were wild as she looked around the room and her lips parted at the sight of the bloody bed that you just vacated. It took her a while to finally spot where you are, with you still being partly covered by Mark.

“Mijeong—”

“Miss!”

You stepped away from Mark as she rushed towards you in panic. You were ready to reach out to her, but she stopped at the last second just as she was about to pull you into an embrace. Instead, she bowed her head reverently, a detached, almost distant gesture that was in complete contrast to the emotions she was obviously trying to hold back. You felt a little hurt by the action, but you didn’t say anything, observing her silently instead.

“I am so glad to see you’re okay. I thought… I thought—”

You reached out for her hand slowly to give her a choice to refuse your touch if she wanted to. She didn’t move away, but she didn’t necessarily try and get closer to you either.

“I’m okay, Jeongie,” you offered a smile as you deliberately used her pet name. She blinked, her eyes bright as if she was on the verge of breaking down. Finally, you tried to tug her a little bit closer towards you.

“I’m still a mess, but give me a hug?”

The hesitation in her only lasted a few seconds before her walls finally seemed to break down. With a slight sob, she pulled you in, her arms easily going around your form. You chuckled and gave her gentle pats on the head.

“Were you scared too? I’m sorry. You did such a great job.”

“Are you really okay?”

“Mm-hm...”

She held you back at an arm’s length now to take in your appearance. You couldn’t really blame her for feeling so anxious seeing you're covered in soot and blood, but she tried to hold herself back from fussing by consciously trying to let you go.

“I’m going to call my doctors so we can have everyone checked. Ten-oppa—?”

The boy answered before she could even finish.

“I’ll set up the infirmary. Kun, can you come?”

You looked across the room towards the sound of the man’s name. The moment your eyes clashed, you gave him a smile that spoke meanings even at a distance. He nodded and returned the gesture, understanding the message even without words before following his other friend out the door.

“I’ll take care of the rest. You should all come to have yourself checked. We’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

The rest of the boys in the room didn’t react other than giving nods towards their older brothers. You couldn’t really blame their silence. The tension in the room had dissipated a little bit by now, but you know everyone needed to wind down first after everything that has happened. Mijeong was also about to follow the pair when you caught her forearm. She quickly looked back at you again in concern.

“Can you also do something else for me…?”

She hesitated.

“Yes, miss. What is it?”

You paused before replying. Everything was still fresh for everyone and you still needed to recover yourself, but you also knew that you also couldn’t stand still, not when the game has finally really started. You’re in a race against time itself, and there is no way you’re going to lose, not with the stakes higher this time. When you finally spoke, your words rang in the still air of the room, levelled and determined. Everyone silently listened, already knowing your orders before you even gave them.

“Tell the rest… It's time to come back.”

CHAPTER 2

*******

A/N: Hi everyone! So I decided to come out of my semi-hiatus and publish this chapter a little earlier than planned. I was originally planning to wait a little longer, but I also didn’t want to halt my drive to write while it’s there. Thank you to all who supported Arcane. If you’re here, then that means you’re ready to join this next part of the journey. I do appreciate all forms of support that I’m getting—if not for your love, I wouldn’t have gotten this far with this story.

Of course, reblogs, asks, and comments are highly appreciated still. They can help writers like us have the fuel to continue creating stories here. You can also consider donating to help with my cause to feed stray cats in my area. My Ko-Fi account is in my Masterlist. <3

That’s it! As usual, enjoy the first chapter! P.S. If I missed to add you in the taglist, please send me a message!

Taglist [OPEN]: @negincho, @jhornytrash, @aaasteroidsky, @huangberryyy, @marijmin, @ashkuuuu, @reluctantserpent-101, @huskyhunny, @domojoo, @anaveragefangirl, @lostlovesoul11, @dreamisfelix, @lomlwoo, @coconuttiez8d, @jaehyunenthusiastsworld, @shininginthemoonlight, @bettyschwallocksyee, @w3bqrl, @smolpeyy, @chenlejjang, @kunssouschef, @thesunsfullmoon, @chokopocky, @azzygongez, @tito-the-mermaid, @jakeshuneybby, @yutacchin, @baehaechannie, @thefoxsleeps, @caspervoid, @jaeyuuns, @ssuungchans, @furryllamas, @meiinumaki, @yayaistime, @byunniebaekhyunnie, @parkthothwa8, @johnniverse, @bee-bl41r, @peachyjaemin, @injeolmiee, @kasperneo

Untaggable [for some reason, tumblr won’t let me tag you, loves]: @chelzinha26, @peaceout97, @yongboksfreckles, @kpopstanforlifeuwu

238 notes · View notes

minnieves · 2 years ago

Text

thank you for giving bj kamal your appreciation. i hope you enjoy this one. happy reading!

bj kamal part one, two, four, and five

new to the bj series? see here for the guide.

warnings: degradation, use of toys, mutual masturbation, and filming.

summary: is it evil to be curious? to want more?

"is it me or kai is becoming more attractive?" ryujin ask beside you. watching the soccer team's practice. you glanced at her while you nod your head in approval. maybe all the masturbation makes him this pretty, you think to yourself.

"i know, imagine how much harder it'll be for us if he get even more popular," soobin muttered beside her. you glanced at both of them before you slid back on your seat. he's masturbating to over +100k people twice a week, yourself included. "yah, y/n. he never says no to you, right?"

"why? are you trying to hook him up with someone?" you asked him. taking a sip of your drink while you look back at the sweaty men under the sun. you scrunch your nose, like you can smell them.

"no, teach him to socialize so he won't end up like this one," ryujin said. pointing at soobin who looked at her like she offended his entire ancestral line.

"weren't he hooking up with someone from a different department?" you asked him. making soobin glare at your comment.

you've been watching soobin for the past few days. regarding kai's "popularity". knowing full well that he too knows. it's just a matter of how, and why he knows about it.

"y/n," hyuka called to you so sweetly. hugging you from behind. his wet hair dripping on your shoulder. he looks at the others, bidding them their hellos. "where do you want to go?"

you noticed how hyuka has always put you first. taking your ideas and worries to heart. taking notes of them, and remembering small details about you. you couldn't help but wonder if he'd tell you if you ask him about it.

you wanted him to tell you personally about it. not wanting to invade his personal privacy any further. slowly, it starts to make you feel like he doesn't trust you enough to lean on you.

"is my y/n-ie sad?" he ask. holding your fave in between his hands. you're in the middle of a shopping mall. he asked you to join him shop for new outfits. you held his hand. thumbs rubbing the back of his hand as you lean your head to one side. eyes fluttering close. "is something bothering you?"

"do you like touching me?" you ask him. though the obvious double meaning for him. he didn't think much more of it. lifting your face towards him more.

"i do. does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked you. observing your features as you have your eyes shut. thinking of ways he could cheer you up. he slowly leaned down on you. a soft kiss meeting your forehead as you look at him. "you can tell me anything."

"are you telling me everything?" you asked him. watching as he swallow the lump in his throat. you pulled away from him, not wanting to let your curiosity push him away. "you should treat me something!"

"i like this penguin one," you muttered. entering a plushie shop. hyuka observe you as you pat the penguin. smiling when he noticed how you're picking up his habits. he bit his lip observing you.

he took his phone out to take a picture of you. having multiple photos of your stolen shots in his phone. you turn to him, pulling him closer. smiling at the camera as you hold your penguin.

"smile hyuka," you said softly. smiling as he takes more pictures with you. "i'd be upset if we didn't get pengoo."

"pengoo?" he asked you. following you to the register. the name registering as one of his passionate viewers. always commenting and watching him. "why pengoo?"

"i'm pengoo," you told him. looking at him to check if he's picking up. his brows furrowed while he try to make sense of your words. "pengoo's mom."

hyuka paid for your toy. telling him that it makes him pengoo's father. you smiled at his remark. you stood in front of your dorm's building. urging him home knowing bj kamal's live schedule.

"thank you, baby," you said. pulling his shirt lightly as you give him a peck on the cheek. you smiled at him before walking in. biting your lips as you figure out how you'd coax the information from him.

bj kamal is live...

you clicked on the notification as you sat on your couch. looking behind you as you turn the other pengoo away from your sinful acts. letting kamal's intro run through the screen.

"are you having fun?" kamal asked. making you turn your head towards him. noticing how his outfit is similar to the ones kai was wearing earlier today. his hand playing with the tips of his chair's armrest. "playing with me?"

"i did no such things," you whispered. eyes moving down his outfit. his light sweatpants showing hints of his hard on. you close your eyes as you think about his cock. hips softly rubbing on the pillow beneath you. "you're one living a double life."

"what should we do now?" he asks as he skims the comment section. searching for a certain username to appear. fingers fidgeting with one another.

pengoo: strip. everything. (+€50,00)

"aww, you want me to strip off everything?" he teased. hands grasping the end of his hoodie like he's going to it, but stopping. a smirk growing in his lips. "i'm going to need more than that if you want to see me naked."

tips came pouring in but he wanted some more from pengoo. eyes scanning his screen as he earns more with such a small remark. laughing at how desperate his viewers are for him.

pengoo: please (+£01,00)

his brows furrowed as he scroll back towards your tip. one euro. you tipped him one euro. he closed his eyes as his jaw clenches. he doesn't know whether he'd feel good or annoyed at your tip.

"aww, i guess my baby is going broke," he said. laughing as he palms his semi hard-on inside his sweats. viewing his comments through his eyelashes. his position making him more intimidating.

"fuck, i can't afford more," you whispered. throwing your bank book to the side. knowing that he'd release a special sometime next month. "what a greedy whore."

"looks like you'd soon won't be able to afford my services," he laughs. slowly peeling the layers off for his consistent tipper. eyes reading the comments as they compliment him in the outfit that you picked for him.

"it's okay kamal. i'm sure my kai won't hesitate to lend me money to spend on my whore," you said. thinking about asking kai to lend you money to pay for his alter ego's specials.

you grabbed you bullet vibe as he peels more layers. lubing it lightly before inserting it inside you. the low hum comforting you. making you gently rock on your pillow. letting the tip hit your clit.

"ever so impatient," he said. you look at him with a smirk. riding your pillow more like he could see you. "can't wait to properly wait for me?"

"you're too slow," you muttered. eyes rolling from how nice the bullet is inside you. the steady hum is such good contrast to your inconsistent thrusts. "fuck, i want to know if i could make you that hard."

"try me," he said. hand wrapping on his lubed cock. his pale skin highlighting how red his tip is. how deliciously pink his balls are. similar to a peach which makes you laugh. "aww, don't comment on my balls. they'll get shy, then no one else could be happy."

"if i put them in my mouth, i'd be happy," you said. playing with some cold metal balls in one hand. thinking that it's his balls being shuffled in between your fingers. "you look like a hairy peach."

"you masturbate to a hairy peach?" he asked. his hand moving in slow thrusting motions on his cock. applying more lube to make it even messier. some lube dripping down his balls and onto his inner thighs. "how messy. bet you are too."

"hmm," you hummed. holding the pillow beneath you as you rock on it. tongue darting out as you think about how hot his cock would feel inside your mouth. "i wanna know what you taste like."

"i'd love to see your holes leaking with my cum," he said. he looked at the screen, before moving away. he grabbed a pillow before walking back. placing an extender near his chair as he puts it sideways. "you're so pathetic for asking to see me in different angles."

you watch as he positions himself on top of the pillow. holding your breath as you anticipate him hump his pillow. his cock slanting downwards. you stop moving your hips.

"you're leaking unto your pillow," you said. noticing the thick white liquid similar to his precum on the pillow. not bothering to check his entire body out.

"you made me hard and wonders why i'm this hard," he said. his cock twitching. he lowered himself on the pillow. moaning when he felt it rub against his tip. low register that is driving you insane. "fuck, baby, look at me."

you follow his movements. watching him hump the pillow like a dog in heat. your hips moving with his. he would occasionally lift his hips before rolling it down. the action making you moan in pleasure.

he placed another pillow under it. adjusting the height to his stature. he held unto the pillow as he fucks it harder. images of you casually flashing on his mind making him moan.

"come fuck me like that," you whined. hands moving towards the table in front of you as you move faster on your pillow. the image of you being fucked, no savaged, by this man. moaning at the thought of him doing so, perfectly at that. "kamal, god, kai, fuck."

you see how red his cock has become. his mask is hindering your sight of his face. but you know he looks good. he always does. his movements consistent in his thrusts. making you envious to whoever got to fuck him.

"you're unsure of my name there babe?" he teased you. now kneeling as he brought his pillow towards his cock. fucking it mid air. throwing his head back in pleasure.

"shut up," you said followed by a moan as you feel your high approach you. holding onto the table for dear life as you move. "i'm going to cum!"

"hold it," he said. panting lightly as you watch as his thrusts becoming more inconsistent. you feel like he could fuck a whole in the pillow with the amount of power he has. "wait for me."

you bent down while holding onto the table. before leaning back. the back of your head coming in contact with your couch as you slow your movements down. trying your best to control your orgasm.

"please," you whined. the stretch on your neck making you sound like you're crying.

"cum now babe," he moaned. pressing his cock more on the pillow as he cums on it. his cum adhering to his skin and pillow. "ah, that feels good."

you shivered as you cum. eyes rolling with your body jerking forward. you came so hard that your ears are ringing. you muster your strength as you kneel up to remove your vibe. collapsing to your cold floor afterwards. feeling yourself pass out.

y/n: if i ask u for 1m won would you lend me?

hyukahyuka: what for?

hyukahyuka: do you need it now?

y/n: can you come over?

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt suggestive #txt scenarios #txt imagines #hueningkai smut #huening kai smut

169 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years ago

Text

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #paper rings #inspired by #taylor swift

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parkersbliss · 4 years ago

Note

hey could i request a kaz fic with prompts: 001, 007 and 041? pleasee let it end in fluff i can’t bare angst after your last fic lol <3

yes ofc ofc, kaz fluff for you

Dead Man | K. Brekker

prompts: 001: “Why do you care?” 007: “Give me one good reason.” 041: “I cant stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz wasn’t a jealous person. That’s what he tells himself, but he believes it’s far from true. Then again, he didn’t have to believe it to be true. He seems to lie to himself a lot. He’s also noticed he seems to lie a lot more when you’re involved.

His favorite lie would have to be, I’m not in love with (Y/N). He definitely was.

But Kaz Brekker was too prideful to ever admit that. Being in love gave you a weakness, and Kaz was not weak. Far from it, actually. He was the most feared man in Ketterdam. There was a reason he was successful, and that was simply because he didn’t have a weakness.

Well, a weakness that people knew about.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jesper asked, casting a sideways glance at you.

Kaz rolls his eyes, slamming his hands down on the table. “Unless you have a better one, I suggest you shut up.”

Jesper opens his mouth to object, but he shakes his head and shuts up.

Good, he knows better.

“Looking good is a Jesper talent, isn’t it?”

Jesper straightens his back and his jacket, brushing his thumb against his lip. “Why yes, it is.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. You just have to do it with (Y/N).”

You nod, bumping shoulders with the Zemeni boy. “Yeah, we could be a great power couple.”

Jesper laughs nervously, looking at Kaz and seeing the slightest hint of murder in his eyes. There was nothing wrong with the plan except the part where Jesper has to play your boyfriend when Kaz has the biggest crush on you known to man. Jesper knew better than to get in his way. He would really prefer to keep his life than get his head chopped off with a single look.

“You both know your target?” Kaz asked.

You and Jesper nod.

“Good. Get in, get the info and get out. No gambling and no drinking.” He points an accusing finger at Jesper. “I don’t think I have to explain that to you, (Y/N). Any objections?”

Jesper shakily raises his hand. “Yes, so why can’t you go as (Y/N)’s boyfriend?”

Inej looks to Jesper with raised eyebrows. “Are you serious right now?”

“I just think that they would make a more convincing couple!”

“Jesper,” Kaz said lowly, and he knows he’s in for it. “When I say you’re posing as (Y/N)’s boyfriend, you are posing as her boyfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Jesper squeaks.

Kaz pulls back, slapping his cane on the ground and leaning his hands on it. When Jesper doesn’t move, he rolls his eyes, “Well, get to it!”

“Right!” Jesper said, scrambling to get out of the room.

“He seems awfully nervous,” You said.

“I’ll go check on him,” Inej said, passing by you with a smile.

That leaves you and Kaz.

“You were a bit harsh on him, don’t you think?” You asked.

Kaz shrugs. “Not really. It’s Jesper.”

“I think you scared the poor boy half to death.”

Kaz raises a single brow at you. “I don’t see an issue. He still has half to go.”

You let out a soft chuckle, and Kaz swears his heart stops for just a moment. He could listen to it forever.

“Is there a reason you’re so adamant about him being my fake boyfriend?”

“He’s the best choice.”

“Right.”

“You beg to differ?”

You shake your head, “Not at all.”

Kaz knows you did, but he doesn’t say anything. “You should get ready.”

You nod, “Yeah, I should. I’ll see you after, boss.”

…

“Wow,” Jesper said, offering his arm to you. “You look dazzling.”

“I learn from the best,” You wink, looping your arm through his.

Kaz’s lips are pursed into a straight line, and Jesper will be grateful when he’s out of his sight and range.

“Inej and I will be across the street. You know what to do if it goes south.”

“Sure do, Boss,” Jesper replied, eager to leave.

Kaz nods, stepping back, and you both enter the club. He leads you towards the bar and takes a seat. You stand next to him, scanning the crowd for the target.

“Put your arm around my waist,” You hiss to Jesper when you spot him.

“I don’t know about that,” Jesper laughed nervously.

“Jesper.”

“Okay!”

He slips an arm around your waist, nervously looking around to ensure Kaz can’t see. When he’s sure he’s safe, he relaxes a bit more. Everything goes smooth as you wait for your target to come over. You didn’t want to lure him in case that made you both more suspicious. It takes longer than both of you want, but eventually, he makes it to the only open seat in the bar; the one next to you.

He orders a few shots and Jesper makes the first move. “Rough night?”

He groans. “You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

“I’m Archer,” The target said, but of course, you already knew that. He was working for a Mercher, who rumor had it - recently imported something worth millions. Kaz wanted to know what it was and if it was worth it.

“Roman,” Jesper grinned, sticking out a hand.

“And what about this pretty lady?”

You gave him your fake name with a smile as you shuffle closer to Jesper.

“Boss is treating me like shit,” Archer groans, taking a shot. Jesper offers to pay for more. The tipsier he got, the more he would spill. “We got this new import the other week, been on high security since. Doubled my hours, didn’t double my pay.”

“New import? What could be so valuable?”

Archer shrugs. “I have no idea. Not allowed to tell, anyway. Sorry bud.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

Archer leans in, alcohol evident in his breath and you almost choke. “Between you and me, I think it’s some new weapon from Novyi Zem.”

There it was.

Jesper raises his brows. “Do you know what kind?”

“Some kind of gun, or guns.”

Jesper leans back. “Huh. I assume he keeps them in the back.”

Archer shakes his head. “No, he’s too cautious with this. He keeps in the vault in the basement.”

“A vault? Must be worth a lot.”

“Top security clearance. He has it scan his eyes, then his fingerprint and a password to get in.”

“My god,” Jesper laughed. “That’s a lot.”

Archer takes another shot. “You’re telling me.”

You don’t say much, playing the part of dumb arm candy. Your eyes wander the club when you spot a familiar face. He’s walking towards you.

You take a deep breath, turning your head to Jesper. You lean in to whisper, “We got someone coming towards us. He knows us. We need to hide.”

“How?”

“Kiss me.”

“You are out of your mind,” Jesper hisses. God, if Kaz found out, he would be dead in seconds.

“It’s that or death. I promise I don’t bite.”

“Are you two okay?” Archer asked.

Jesper coughs, pushing you off. “Yes, the misses it just eager to get home.”

Archer nods. “I see. I should get going too.”

Jesper lets him. You already got enough information.

“Jesper,” You whisper, tugging on his coat.

He was a dead man either way.

He grabs your face, kissing you with his eyes closed. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you. It’s just the difference between life and death for now. He can see the person leave out of the corner of his eyes. He’s about to pull back when a cane slams the bar floor. Jesper jumps back.

He is so dead.

Kaz's eyes blaze with something much more than rage, and Jesper doesn’t doubt it’s for him.

“Kaz,” you breathe out.

“We’re done here.”

Jesper stands up from the bar, letting go of you. “Yes, we are.”

He practically runs out of there, leaving you with a very pissed-off Kaz.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He ignores you and walks away.

“Kaz?” You shout, catching up with him.

“What?” He snaps, never looking at you as you walk back to the slat. Jesper was gone, probably hiding somewhere. Inej was covering for him, but Kaz pays no mind.

“We got the information. Why are you so mad?”

Kaz throws open the door to his office, standing behind his desk and finally looking up. “You want to know why I’m so mad?”

“Yes!”

“Because you kissed Jesper!”

“What?” You asked. You couldn’t understand why he was so mad about that. He was the one who assigned him as your partner. “Why do you care?”

It’s not meant to come off rude, you just didn’t understand.

Kaz purses his lips and looks the other way. He can’t bring himself to say why; he won’t admit his weakness.

“Give me one good reason,” You beg. “I’m not mad at you, Kaz. I just don’t underst-”

“I can’t stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

That’s not what you expected. However, it makes your stomach do flips. You swallow the butterflies.

“Then why did you partner Jesper and me together?” You asked softly.

Kaz sighs, “I thought I could prove to myself that I wasn’t in love with you by seeing you with him.”

You snort. “And how did that work out?”

“It didn’t.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

Kaz can hear the mischief in your voice. He’s expecting rejection, but you sound happy.

“I think I’m going to admit that I’m in love with you,” he said, turning back around to face you.

“Well, that’s good,” You grin, grabbing his coat and pulling him the slightest bit closer. He doesn’t pull away. “Cause I’m in love with you too.”

#poor jesper man 😭#kaz is just grilling him #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #soc #six of crows imagine #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #shadow and bone

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heisenho · 4 years ago

Text

Dreams

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being a maid for the Dimitrescu is all fun and games until you realize big tall vampire lady is very hot.

Warnings: 18+!! MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT! Fucking in front of a mirror, blood, swearing, oral sex (fem receiving), uuuh idk if you need any other warnings, let me know!

A/N: HEHEH DOUBLE POST DAY BABY! Posted my first heisenberg fic just a few hours ago, thought I might as well post for my wife as well! Thanks for reading, and as always, I hope you enjoy ~Beff

Being a maid for the Dimitrescu was exciting. You were obedient and soft spoken and polite, everything the Lady and her daughters could ask for. You didn’t pry, you didn’t wander where you weren’t supposed to, you did your job and you were damn good at it.

You had been very spaced out lately though. You couldn’t seem to figure out why at first, but then it clicked. When you had started work there, mostly the daughters interacted with you. You did not see The Lady very often. Suddenly, after a few weeks of working there, she showed up more often.

Her large stature (and bust) were hypnotic. You couldn’t help but stare and fumble (gayly) when she noticed your eyes glued to her beautiful ass or boobs. Your face would heat up, your eyes widening, and you’d turn immediately.

Lately you had even been dreaming of Lady Dimitrescu. A recurring dream. One where you’d accidentally hurt yourself, and she would be there beside you, checking on you, but then... She’d gently take your arm, and suck slowly on the wound, until you’d finally wake up. A heat between your legs and hunger in your eyes.

Wearing a sexy dress did not help either. You imagined Lady Dimitrescu slowly pulling it from your frame, or even ripping it off of you, violent and fast.

“Oh, dear,” You heard Lady Dimitrescu speak from behind you.

“Yes, my lady!” You turned, startled.

“I have been informed by my daughters that...” She paused. Swallowing hard, you waited for the worst. Her gloved hand moved towards the vase you had just been cleaning and she swiped it, fast. She showed you her finger and your stomach turned.

Dust.

“They informed me that you aren’t doing the best. Not anymore.”

With wide eyes, you put your hands up, “I promise, Lady Dimitrescu, I can do better! I just, I had been... Distracted-”

“Hm, what was distracting you.”

She placed her hand on her chin and cocked her head. Your breath caught in your throat and you shook your head, “I mean, no- nothing. I can handle it.”

“Obviously not. I mean, dear, I can smell your arousal from here.”

Your jaw dropped. You brought your fingers towards your bicep and gently pinched. Alcina scrunched her nose up, giving you a curious look.

“Oh, no, I’m not dreaming.”

The feeling of wanting to run rushed in all at once. You turned from the woman and almost started to take off in a sprint, until she just took one step forward and to the side, and she was in front of you. Just like that.

“I will have to punish you for trying to run if you do so again.”

You nodded, “Yes, my lady.”

“Good, you understand.” She brought her hand to your chin and lowered herself to your level, “You are very attractive, dear, very... curious... I think I can help you with your-” She paused, “Problems. If you would like that?”

You blinked a couple of times, in absolute awe of the woman in front of you. You nodded and Alcina took your hand in hers, and began to lead you upstairs to her room. Your breath hitched as you realized what was really happening. Lady Dimitrescu was taking you to her personal chambers, to (hopefully) fuck you. But... what if you were about to end up like the other maids?

Fear struck you quickly, but curiosity was taking over. You wanted to know what the Lady was about to do with you.

“Sit on my bed, dear.”

You nodded and shuffled towards the bed, watching as the tall vampiric woman slowly took her gloves off. She stalked towards you, a predator to prey, your eyes resembling that of a small doe.

“Lady Dimi-”

“Please, dear, when behind closed doors call me Alcina.”

“Yes, ma’am- Alcina.”

She smirked down at you. She fell to her knees in front of you and cocked her head at you. “The way you say my name, so soft and innocent. How about we break that?” Her cheshire smile sent chills down your spine. “Lay on your back.”

You followed her command instantly, lying flat on your back, legs hanging off the large bed. Suddenly, your dress was being moved upwards and a hand was on the elastic of your underwear. You sucked in air at the chill of her icy fingers and let out a soft mewl.

You looked at Alcina and noticed her hat was gone. She was in her dress still, leaning over you. Your eyes wandered to her breasts and you had to stop yourself from reaching out for them. You weren’t that brave, not yet.

“Are you okay with this?” She asked, one of her hands pulling at one of your thigh high socks. “Being absolutely vulnerable in front of me?”

It sounded almost rhetorical. The first part was sincere, but as soon as she brought up the vulnerability, she seemed heavily intoxicated by your innocence and vulnerability.

With a shaky voice, you replied, “Yes.” Your eyes met hers as you nodded.

“Perfect.”

Within seconds your dress was pushed up to your stomach, one sock was pushed half way down, your panties had been ripped off, and Alcina was at your cunt, breathing in your arousal.

“Hmm,” Alcina hummed, “I haven’t been this close to someone in a while. This is divine.” Her pupils were blown wide and her voice... she sounded absolutely feral.

Alcina plunged her tongue deep inside of you, licking stripes up your pussy, before reaching your clit and giving it well deserved attention. You let out a soft moan and gripped the sheets under you.

“Good girl,” Alcina praised you, causing you to grow even hotter, “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Alcina!”

Your back arched and your pushed yourself closer to Alcina, trying your best to make her pick up the speed. Her hand moved to your hip, holding you down. “Don’t be so wiggly.” She warned. You swallowed hard and nodded, mostly to yourself.

Alcina’s tongue was deep inside you, before pulling out and licking up towards your clit once more. Her tongue moved back to your entrance and her thumb pressed against your clit, moving in circles around the bundle of nerves.

“Alcina- so close, please!”

Alcina hummed against you, and you were sent over the edge immediately. Your body was shaking against her until she pulled away, smirking down at you.

“You’re wonderful,” Alcina spoke very kindly towards you, causing a heat to pool in your stomach, “let me fuck you in front of a mirror.”

All you could do was sit up and nod. Alcina nodded back and stepped away for a moment. “Get undressed, I’ll be right back.”

You slowly pulled your dress off and decided it would be best to keep your sexy little thigh highs on. You decided that, that would be a good look.

Alcina came back, a large mirror in tow. You were baffled by her strength sometimes. You were mesmerized by her constantly. She set it down in front of the bed. And you noticed just how naked you were.

“The socks, those are a nice touch.”

Alcina began to take off her dress and mumbled something about not wanting to ruin it. You wondered what she meant. She stood in front of you now, in beautiful lace underwear.

Alcina sat on the edge of the bed and patted her lap. You obliged and scooted towards her. She grabbed you, easily lifting you onto her thigh. You were facing the mirror, legs spread, straddling her right thigh. You could see your pussy perfectly in the mirror, you were almost self conscious.

“You’re so lovely aren’t you... I need you to know just how lovely you are.”

You were wet all over again. “Alcina.” You whined.

Alcina tensed the muscles in her thigh and you sighed. She gave an experimental bounce and you let out a soft moan. “Please, please let me cum again.”

“Of course, you deserve it, dear.”

“Are you not going to touch me?” You asked, deflating instantly.

“No, no, you will be getting off on my thigh, and my thigh alone.”

Instinctively, you began to grind into her thigh. Feeling Alcina bounce her leg every once in a while, with no rhyme or reason, kept you going. You were chasing a high that you needed to get from her, and from her alone.

“So good, dear,” Alcina ran her hand down the side of your ribs and you let out a mewl, crumbling onto her thigh.

“Please,” tears brimmed your eyes, “Please touch me.”

Alcina let out a soft laugh, “You are truly so cute, my dear pet. I’ll make a deal with you.”

You nodded violently, ready to hear what she had to say.

“So eager, and you don’t even know what it is.” Alcian brushed your side again. “I’ll get you off, if you let me drink your blood.”

“Who loses in this situation?” You questioned, leaning back against her, still grinding into her thigh.

“Oh? You want your blood drained from you?”

“I’ve dreamt about you fucking me and sucking my blood, fucking and sucking if you will, since I got her-”

Alcina shushed you, and gently asked for you to close your eyes. You did so and then heard the sound of... metal? Beside you. Something scratched at your bicep and you sucked in air harshly. The metal sound came again, but no more pain.

“You may open your eyes.”

Looking in the mirror, you saw her staring at your bleeding wound. Alcina promised to only take a little as her lips met your skin. You nodded and she guided her free hand towards your pussy once more.

Alcina tensed as she tasted your blood and a moan escaped her mouth. She licked and lapped at the blood, while you were grinding into her thigh. Her fingers played gently with your clit. Your movements became rushed and harsh, you were humping against her quickly.

Becoming dizzy and lightheaded quickly stopped that though. You reached your orgasm, and assumed it had hit so hard you were seeing stars from that. But when your vision unblurred, you noticed Alcina’s bloodied face in the mirror, still biting down and licking on your arm.

“Alcina!” Your voice, still filled with pleasure, caught her attention.

She gave one final lick and wiped her bottom lip.

“I only took a little.” Alcina noticed your tiredness and her eyes widened, “Come here, dear. Maybe we should go to bed, you seem tired.”

You nodded. Alcina picked you up and lied you down on her pillows. She lay beside you, her hand gently brushing against your skin, causing goosebumps. You let out a quiet moan and cuddled against her chest.

“Thank you,” You whispered to her, eyes closing, hoping and praying this really wasn’t a dream. Hoping when you awoke, she would still be there. But for now, all you needed was her, you focused on her as you drifted off.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #re8 #ngl this wasnt beta'd #so i apologize in advance for any mistakes #i will fix them as i find them #which is why the whole thing is under a read more #anyway!#hope yall enjoyed!#beff writes

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Text

Favorite Time Of Day

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: Taking naps with Tom when you’re done with Zoom meetings for school🥺

Warnings: none :)

A/n: I literally thought about this during class and couldn’t stop thinking about it. I always take naps when I’m done with all my Zoom calls for school, so I thought why not make it into a fic? So enjoy my loves💖

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

he’s so cuddly🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

You listened to your professor explaining the lesson at hand. This was your fourth and final class of the day, it was around 1 pm and you were finally feeling the drowsiness of waking up at seven in the morning. As a college student, you could have chosen later classes and save yourself the hassle of waking up so early. You were considering it, but decided to go with a morning schedule since you’d be able to get your classes over with earlier and have the rest of the day to yourself.

You continued to jot down notes from the PowerPoint your professor shared on Zoom, not really paying attention to what you were writing. You already understood the lesson, he had gone over it last week, but decided to dive in deeper to the material today.

Your professor’s words went through one ear and out the other. Your mind was too far gone to focus on the lesson, too busy thinking of the cuddle fest that’ll happen after your classes. After every school day you had at home, you were drained of energy to go on with your day so you took naps to recharge. Majority of the time your boyfriend, Tom, joined you. He didn’t go to college; he spent his mornings doing interviews to promote his new movie, having meetings for future projects, and sometimes reading through new scripts for upcoming roles. Though his work at home was probably less taxing than yours, he also felt the effects of the day on him once his tasks were done. So once you were both done for the day (work wise), the two of you would meet in bed, quietly talk about your days, and drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

You felt the sleepiness ease off your body once you hear your professor begin to wrap up his lesson, “Alright, well that’s all I could fit into this meeting. We’ll continue on Wednesday and I’ll see you all then!”

You bid your teacher goodbye and leave the meeting. Before getting up and leaving your makeshift office in the dining room, you double check all your work and tidy up your things. When everything seemed finished and clean, you got up and stretched your limbs. A content sigh passes your lips as the tension from sitting all morning releases from your body.

You hear light pitter patters from around the corner before Tessa enters the dining room. Her doe eyes land on your figure, moving to approach you. You smile, leaning down to greet the staffy with open arms. She nuzzles herself into your chest while you give her scratchies and kisses all over her face.

“What have you been up to all day, darling?” You coo at her, fingers scratching behind her ears. Tessa makes a noise as if she were replying, “Hmmm, sounded like you’ve had loads of fun today, Tess.”

You stand straight on your knees and motion to the hallway that led to your and Tom’s shared bedroom. “How do you feel about a nap, hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You talk to the dog as you lead her into the bedroom. You pass by Tom’s study on the way and hear him talking about Cherry. Interviews must’ve gone over time today, you thought to yourself. Not wanting to disturb his interview, you quietly pass by the room and enter the bedroom. You softly shut the door behind you and settle into the comfort of your bed.

You exhale, letting the softness of the pillows and blankets consume your body. The scents of you and Tom linger in the sheets; the first thing you smell in the morning and the last before you go to sleep. It was your favorite smell, though it might seem weird, the combination of yours and Tom’s natural fragrances was like another symbol of your love.

You snuggle under the sheets, which have grown cold after being abandoned all morning. Tessa follows suit, making herself comfortable against your chest. You didn’t want to drift off without Tom, so you occupied yourself on your phone for a couple of minutes. You ended up on TikTok, scrolling through your FYP, while your other hand rubbed patterns onto Tessa’s short fur.

A few minutes later, the door creaks open, capturing both your and Tessa’s attention. Tom pops his head from behind the door, the look of uncertainty immediately replacing itself with a smile when his eyes land on you and Tessa.

“There you two are. I went to check up on you in the dining room but you weren’t there. Then I realized Tessa was also gone so I checked the back garden and you both weren’t there.” He explains. He pulls off the knit sweater he wore for today’s interviews, leaving him shirtless in only his boxers and socks.

“We haven’t been here for long, just a few minutes.” You hum. Turning your phone off, you reach over to your nightstand and set your phone onto it. Tom lifts the covers and slides in behind you. His chest is flush against your back, causing warmth to fill your body. Tom presses a few kisses along your shoulder and neck before your lips capture his. He maneuvers his arms around you so that he’s holding both you and Tessa.

“Mmm, my girls.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, his fingers reaching out to scratch Tessa’s head. The dog may have grown fussy, not even a minute of being wrapped in your and Tom’s arms she wriggles her way out of your hold and hops off the bed. Instead she walks over to a cool spot on the hardwood floor and settles herself onto it.

“Teenagers.” Tom playfully scoffs. He rests on his elbow to look at Tessa over you shoulder, “I’ve raised you since you were a pup and this is how I get treated. No affection whatsoever.” He tsks at his dog, who responds with a huff. You stifle a laugh while Tom dramatically gasps, collapsing onto the mattress. A giggle bubbles out of you.

Turning around, you’re met with Tom’s face smushed into your pillow. “Always the drama Queen aren’t you?” You tease him, fully turning your body so that it’s facing him.

Tom expressed a smug smile, “Well of course, darling, I’m an actor after all.” You shake your head at his antics. Tom chuckles at you. His buff arms pull you in closer so you’re once again flush against his chest. Nimble fingers expertly sneaking past the barrier of your shirt and now lightly dancing along your lower back.

He stares at you with his warm brown eyes, they look at you adoringly shifting between different aspects of your face. You eyes, your lashes, lips, blemishes—he loved it all. You probably found imperfection in them but to Tom they were the little things that created you—and he adored them.

In the haze of each other’s arms again, your fingers found themselves running through the mop of curls that were on Tom’s head. They were like silk and you enjoyed the feeling of it between your fingers. One of Tom’s hands remove themselves from behind you to gently hook your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. He tilts your head toward him and slots his lips with yours. Your lips move naturally against each other’s. The kiss was soft and sweet, with no intentions of escalating into something more steamy. It was simply two people in love savoring the moment of being in each other’s presence. He never fully breaks a kiss without pecking your lips multiple times. He didn’t know when it became a thing, but he could never just kiss you without following it with a bunch of little mini kisses that made your nose scrunch up and the cutest giggle to come out of you.

Tom lays on his back with your head on his chest, “How was your morning, lovey?” You tell him about your day and he listens intently. Even though he doesn’t understand half of the things you’re referring from class, he still loved to hear you talk. Especially when you ramble about something you were excited about, like right now. Your hand had removed itself from his chest, making gestures as you talked about the lesson from your Calculus class.

You stop midway noticing that Tom had been staring at you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“What?” You ask, a questioning smile on your lips.

“You’re so smart.” He hums, one of his hands stroking your hair and the other tracing shapes onto your back. You whine as he teasingly smothers your face with kisses. That giggle that he’s obsessed with escapes your lips, causing him to grin widely.

When you finally get him off of you, you ask him about his morning. He beams, excitedly telling you about all the things that happened during his interviews. The passion he had for his work shined through as he went on a tangent about how proud he was of the movie.

“And now it’s my favorite time of day.” He finishes, wiggling closer to you in the sheets.

You chuckle, “And what would that be?”

“Napping with my bubbs.” He murmurs against your hair. His grip around you tightens, locking you in his arms. Your arm rests on his chest, hand right above his heart where you could feel the distinct rhythm beating in his chest.

“I love you.” You whisper, pressing a kiss onto his bare skin.

“I love you to infinity.” He responds before the two of you drift to sleep in each other’s arms.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I know you’re probably busy with life and what not, but I’d thought I’d leave this in here just in case. I would love to read a short fic with Tony comforting/coaching sick 15 year old Peter over the phone, because May’s out of town and Peter called him upset, not feeling well. Loving your stories ❤️

You know, it has been an extremely crazy few months for my family and I. But I always try to make time for writing or drawing because those creative outlets are how I decompress.

Anyway, I LOVED this prompt, and since I've not written a mini-fic since September I thought I may as well give it a go!

So here it is! My first (mini) fic of 2022, 'Calling in Sick', coming in at 925 words. (tw for illness & non-descriptive vomiting)

💙

If May hadn’t been at a work conference, Peter might have considered calling her. But rather than worry her, he decided to deal with his current predicament on his own. It was fine. Everything was totally fine. Or at least he thought it was for a while, but as time passed he wasn’t so sure. He’d been sitting on the bathroom floor for several hours with his head hanging over the toilet and the water he’d been drinking wouldn’t stay down. Although it did prevent his stomach from trying to turn itself inside out every time he heaved. After throwing up again, he decided he really needed some assistance.

Once he wiped his chin and rinsed his mouth, Peter leaned back on the bathtub and closed his eyes. He was hot and cold at the same time, and so exhausted that he was certain he could fall asleep where he was. He had to force himself to stay awake to thumb through his contacts. He was still hesitant to contact May, and he wasn’t sure Ned would be of much help. He considered dialing MJ until his eyes focused on the tiny clock on the corner of the screen. It was after one in the morning. He’d been sick for significantly longer than he’d thought.

Peter scrolled down until he came across the number of the only person he knew that was likely to be up at such an hour. He tapped the contact and held the phone up to his ear. It rang four times before going to voicemail. After double checking that he’d dialed the correct number he tried again only to receive identical results. On his third attempt, Tony finally picked up.

“Hey, Kiddo. It’s late for you isn’t it?” Tony greeted.

Peter opened his mouth to answer but before he could, he noticed the sound of soft music and clinking glasses coming from Tony’s end of the call. “You’re not at home?” he asked, his eyes misting over with disappointment. A small part of him had been hoping Tony would insist upon coming over to take care of him.

“I’m at a wedding in Vancouver. Are you okay?” Tony asked.

“I just had a quick question, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting the reception.

“Sure,” Tony agreed.

For a moment, Peter hesitated while over-tired brain tried to come up with the right words. “How long can a person throw up before it’s dangerous?” he asked, pausing to lick his parched lips. "Like, how many times do you think?”

The line was silent for several seconds. “Are you working on some sort of science class, biology research paper thing?” Tony asked, followed by a slightly more worried, “Please tell me this is a research paper thing.”

Before Peter could answer, his stomach lurched and he was forced to release the phone in favor of lunging towards the toilet. Hardly anything came up but the effort had tears streaming down his cheeks. When he got back to the phone, he groaned a quiet apology.

“How long have you been throwing up, Buddy?” Tony asked softly.

“Started after school,” Peter said, once he’d wiped his face clean.

“That’s not too bad,” Tony replied. Peter wanted to argue that it was, but he lacked the energy to do so. He simply remained quiet as his mentor continued to question him. “Have you been staying hydrated?”

“I drink water, then I throw it right back up,” Peter said while glaring at the small paper cup he’d been filling and refilling all night.

“Is there anything else in the apartment? Juice? Clear soda? Gatorade?” Tony asked next and Peter had to think harder about that than he should have.

“I think there’s some fruit punch,” he waveringly decided. He’d not been in the refrigerator since breakfast but he was reasonably sure he’d seen some there.

“Alright, I want you to get some of that and add a little water to it so it’s not quite so sweet,” Tony calmly instructed. “You might have a better chance of keeping that down.”

Peter swallowed thickly and looked towards the hallway. The walk to the kitchen wasn’t far but at the moment it felt miles away. “I don’t want to get up, Mr. Stark,” he inadvertently whined.

“I know, Buddy and if I was there I’d be happy to go get it for you, but for the time being I’m gonna need you to work with me,” Tony replied with just enough encouragement that Peter was able to pull himself up off the floor.

After mixing the drink, Peter shuffled back to the bathroom and slid back down onto the floor. Tony stayed on the line whispering reassurances as he slowly sipped at the cup. When he was half way through it and hadn’t thrown up again, he felt his eyes starting to close and his phone starting to slip from his hand. He was startled awake when landed on the floor.

“Sorry. Fell asleep,” Peter mumbled while clumsily lowering himself the rest of the way to the floor.

“That's okay, where are you, Kiddo?” Tony asked out of what Peter assumed was curiosity.

“Hall bathroom,” he whispered and was surprised when what felt like mere minutes later, Tony appeared beside him. He would have thought he was dreaming had he not felt a cool hand pressing up against his forehead. “What are you doing here?” he languidly asked.

“I’m taking you to bed, Kiddo,” Tony softly replied and for the first time all day, Peter smiled.

#happyaspie mini fic #under 1k #completed work #prompt fic #sick fic #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #iron man #spider-man #marvel #mcu #iron dad and spider son #tw illness #tw vomiting #unapologetically fanon :)

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emeren · 4 years ago

Note

Mmm maybe eren walking in on the reader using a vibrator and offering to help her and over stimulating her..

you got it! here it comes :)

red handed - eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut, 18+, masturbation, overstimulation, crying

notes: this one was fun to write, it was my first time writing about a vibrator so idk if it’s that good but i hope you all enjoy nevertheless! <3

you sighed to yourself, anxiously glancing at the clock. your roommate had informed you he wouldn’t be back until around nine; the numbers 7:30 blinking back at you expectantly. there was no way he’d be home early; eren was late to nearly everything he did.

deciding to move into a small, crappy apartment with your childhood best friend had seemed like a good idea at the time. you and eren knew each other forwards and backwards; right side up and upside down.

what you didn’t know was just how needy eren could be. he hated being bored more than anything in the world. he was always lingering, always pestering you to go do something. he would sometimes just walk into your room and stand there, asking you what you were doing and if you wanted to hangout.

most of the time you didn’t mind. most of the time. but there were instances where the lack of a lock on both your bedroom and bathroom doors became an issue.

instances where the pent up hormones became too much to bear and you had to relieve yourself, quickly and quietly.

you thanked your lucky stars that eren had decided to go out with some friends tonight. you’d finally be able to enjoy a moment of bliss for the first time in well over two weeks.

after double checking that the front door was locked and peaking your head into eren’s room to make extra sure he was gone, you skipped to your own space with an air of giddiness. finally some alone time!

you softly closed the door behind you, turning to look at your beside table. pulling the small drawer open and rifling through various pieces of junk, your eyes landed on the small, inconspicuous piece of plastic.

you’d come to realize that your hand wasn’t quick enough to combat eren’s nosey nature, and after a few near misses, you invested in your very first vibrator.

it was a light pink color; just nearly longer than your middle finger. you picked it up carefully before plunking down on your hard mattress. you shifted so your back was pressed against the head board, knees slightly bent.

you could feel yourself aching in anticipation, cold hand slipping past the hem of your pajama pants to press the plastic device against your clit. your thumb moved to click the on button, halting as you heard a floorboard creak from out in the hall.

“ugh,” you muttered to yourself, trying to quell your paranoia. “eren’s not gonna be home for at least an hour.”

you paused for a minute longer, ears straining. when you were met with just the distant sound of sirens, you allowed yourself to continue, clicking the button. the soft vibration buzzed against your nerves, breath hitching involuntarily at the sudden pleasure.

it was a wonderful feeling; your chest heaving as your lower half embraced the foreign object. you leaned your head back against the wall, shifting to a more comfortable position as you bent your knees for better leverage.

your mind began to wander, an image of eren popping into your brain. a few years ago, you would’ve cringed and banished the thought away, but you’d come to acknowledge there was no denying just how attractive your best friend was, no matter how guilty it made you feel.

you pictured his muscular back, leaned over the sink as he washed dishes with a pair of black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. you could feel your face heat, closing your eyes as the pressure within the pit of your stomach began to build.

it was easy to reach your breaking point with the vibrator; breath growing shallow as the image of eren’s muscular arms and defined v-line started to fog your mind. you exhaled out through your nose, the gentle buzzing making your clit twitch with desired release.

you were so wrapped up, so distracted. it was the single moment of bliss right before your orgasm, face hot and hands clammy.

you’d never let your mind wander so far before, but you were beginning to imagine eren touching you; letting his hands wander down your skin and caressing your curves, squeezing and-

“what’re you doing?” a voice startled you from the moment of peace, replaced by an overwhelming embarrassment as your eyes snapped open, focusing on the tall figure leaning against the open doorframe.

eren’s arms were crossed, face shadowed as he observed you. you quickly sat up, pulling your vibrator from your pants and clicking it off. the pace of your heartbeat was through the roof, eyes wide and chest tight. how fucking embarrassing!

“i’m- i was-,” you were at a loss for words, standing from your bed. your heart pinged with annoyance, the embarrassment quickly dissipating into anger. “can’t you learn to fucking knock?”

eren didn’t say anything, quirking a brow at your snippy tone. it just aggravated you more, your brain trying to combat the dopamine that never truly reached its full potential. he stood in your doorway, staring you down as you seethed in your place.

“don’t be embarrassed,” he spoke softly. his face had some unknown expression on it, one you’d never seen before. his pupils were dilated, brows furrowed and gaze serious. “it’s a normal thing to do.”

you huffed, shifting your legs in an attempt to quell the burning between your thighs. “i know that. what’s not normal is you barging into my room without knocking when you weren’t even supposed to be home for another hour.”

“i got bored, so i decided to come home and hangout with you,” he explained. his lip was curved upwards, as if he were trying to suppress a smirk. “s’more fun here anyway.”

you frowned at his words, your mind flashing that image of his rough hands trailing down your body, squeezing. you swallowed at the thought, the anger quickly being overpowered by your unfinished arousal. “how long were you standing there?”

“long enough to know you didn’t finish,” he commented, holding eye contact as your eyebrows raised in surprise. you opened your mouth to respond, but eren beat you to it. “c’mon, i think i know you pretty well.”

“not like that,” you muttered demurely, the dull ache nearly too much to bear. you felt like you’d be antsy till you got off, shifting uncomfortably as your eyes fell to the floor. “could you- could you give me some privacy?”

eren didn’t respond for a moment, the sound of your bedroom door shutting sending a feeling of relief to your brain. you looked up, frown deepening.

eren was leaning against the closed door, eyes dark and serious. “let me help you.”

his words sent a confused throb to your cunt, face going slack. was this really happening?

“eren, you don’t mean…” you breathed out, the ache in your center multiplying tenfold at the sight of his tall and muscular figure staring down at you. shit, shit, shit!

“i do,” he responded seriously, taking a step towards you. he was normally tall and formidable, but in the darkness of your bedroom, he seemed infinite. you paused for a moment, your resolve already thin due to the incessant throbbing of your clit. eren seemed to take notice, eyeing you carefully. “who better than your best friend?”

you held your breath before responding. you’d been thinking of this, dreaming of this. now here he was, standing before you and looking at you as though you were his for the taking. and it excited you. it excited you to no end. “i- okay.”

eren was quick to smile, stepping up to you. you craned your neck to look at him, heartbeat erratic as his calloused hands ran down your bare arms. he slowly lowered himself to his knees before you, fingers hooking under the waistband of your pajamas.

his teal eyes glanced up to you, asking for permission. you were afraid your voice wouldn’t work, instead feverishly nodding your head in acceptance. he pulled your pants down tantalizingly slow; like he was unwrapping some sacred gift.

you bit your lip as your thighs became exposed, the feeling of eren’s hot breath fanning across the newly exposed skin. he leaned forward, eyes still locked with yours as he placed a kiss to the soft flesh, lips slicked with chapstick. it was sinful and he knew it.

your cotton pants dropped to the floor, standing in nothing but your underwear and a t-shirt. eren’s gaze grew heavy on your panties - the inevitable wet spot showing just how desperate you were for attention.

“trying to finish before i got home?” he cooed, curling his lip. you felt your face heat, glancing away.

“yeah,” you responded bashfully, eren motioning his head towards the bed.

he breathed out a laugh at your answer, giving your thigh that deeply desired squeeze. “that’s so cute. bet you’re so needy for me now, hm?”

you could feel yourself growing wetter at his words, choosing to sit on the end of the bed in front of him rather than respond. he kissed your leg again, eyes catching on something beside you.

“what’s this?” he smirked, reaching to grab your vibrator. you were too slow to react, reaching for it in vain as eren inspected it. “tsk, tsk. sit back down.”

you hadn’t even realized you’d lifted from the mattress, eren’s dark tone making you abide as though you had no free will.

he gave you a sadistic look, lunging forward to press his tongue flat against your clothed clit. you hissed at the feeling, hands fisting your bed sheets. eren chuckled against you, the vibration making your stomach burn.

“just that already has you squirming?” he mumbled, lips pressing a kiss. as if this couldn’t get anymore embarrassing. “’s’hot.”

you breathed out, the sight of eren between your legs in the lowly lit room entirely too attractive. you weren’t surprised he was so bossy and vocal, hand tapping your leg impatiently.

“off.” he deadpanned, leaning back to watch you as you stood, yanking your underwear down your legs. you tried to quell your excitement; eren’s pupils growing impossibly larger at the sight of your exposed cunt. you sat back down, breath shaky as eren situated himself in front of you. “so wet already.”

eren, just as he always had been, was impatient. you’d just sat down and he was prying your knees apart, tongue hungrily pressing itself against your center. he was sloppy; eating you out with an animalistic hunger that had you nearing your climax much faster than usual.

“eren,” you whimpered, the feeling of his tongue circling your entrance causing a moan to ripple from your mouth. the sound of his name only made him suck harder. he wasn’t letting up; absolutely determined to bring you to your high as fast as possible. “m’gonna cum, eren.”

he groaned at your words, arms hooking around your thighs to hold you in place as he focused intently on your clit. the warm, wet feeling was becoming too much; edges of your vision growing dark as you let your release come crashing down, legs twitching as eren released his suction on you.

he looked at you just long enough for you to notice the sheen on his chin, the sparkle in his eyes, and the grin on his lips. “been waiting so long for this, i’m gonna make the best of it.”

your chest was heaving, brows pulled down in confusion as eren brought his first two fingers to your entrance, circling it twice before stuffing you with his long digits.

you were burning, just having come down from your embarrassingly quick release only to have eren fucking you with his fingers. they easily slid in and out, wet with your sheen as he began to gently suck on your inner thigh. your vision was hazy, eren pushing his digits in to the last knuckle and curling slightly.

the feeling of another release was building in your core; churning and readying you to succumb to eren’s will once more. and you were ready; a breathy moan leaving your lips as he angled his fingers particularly deep. you laid down, hands subconsciously lifting to grope your own chest - searching for an anchor.

“shit,” eren swore at the sight of you palming your breasts, squirming in his hold as his fingers pumped in and out of you, quickening his pace. you whimpered in response, screwing your eyes shut.

you felt the cold object press against your clit before he turned it on; eyes widening in surprise as you shot up. eren was grinning at you, thumb clicking it on as an involuntary cry ripped from your chest.

the vibration was too much as his digits abused your cunt, stuffing into you as far as possible. your clit twitched aggressively, face and neck hot. your brain was growing fuzzy, thoughts clouded as you stared down at eren, mouth hanging open and eyes glossy. he was watching you seriously, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit in order to make you jolt.

you were burning, abdomen flexing as your eyes began to water. the sensations were too much, legs trying to close but you were blocked by eren’s broad shoulders.

you’d never been one to scream, but you couldn’t help the strangled sound that escaped your mouth as eren included his tongue in the overstimulating mix. hot, sticky tears slid down your cheeks, eren’s tongue lapping at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside of you.

his eye contact. oh, his eye contact. it was pervasive and inspective, analyzing every sound and movement you made.

he pulled his tongue back for just a moment, the vibrator buzzing intensely against you. “cum for me.”

and you did. it was too much; your legs jerking and stomach cramping, mind turned to mush at the overflow of dopamine. you collapsed back on the bed, eren leaving the vibrator pressed against your clit for a moment longer, the feeling now more uncomfortable than anything. you waved your hand, too exhausted to beg him to take it off. eren only chuckled, pulling his fingers from you but pressing the object against you harder.

“let me see those tears,” he said sweetly, tapping your thigh. it was a sinister sweetness, the tears pooling down your face as you began to grown numb below your waist. you forced yourself to sit up, eren smiling as he saw your wet face. “good girl.”

he removed the vibrator, tossing it on the bed as he stood. you laid back down, breathing heavy and legs weak. eren hovered above you, leaning down to wipe your cheeks.

“next time, just ask for my help,” he sneered, your eyes rolling weakly. he had a boyish grin on his face, something teasing about his nature. “i’m way better than some stupid vibrator, anyway.”

<3 <3 <3

#emmy writes #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jeager #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren yaeger #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jäger #eren smut

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negandarylsatisfaction · 4 years ago

Text

[SUMMARY: Negan moves back into town after seven years and finds his coworkers daughter all grown up.]

Smut

Negan and Amina.

Negan sat in Joes kitchen having a beer talking to him about the football game from the night before. Having just moved back into town after seven years Negan hadn’t seen Joe since.

“Let’s see if I can watch the football game, Amina likes to take over the damn television with her reality shows.” Joe shook his head.

“How is Amina? She’s back home from college right?”

“Yeah, she just came back two days ago. She’s out back in the pool.” Just as Joe spoke you came in from the back door instantly making Negan take a double look.

“Oh hey-“ you spoke not expecting your father to have any guest over. Negan quickly caught his eyes drifting down to the blue two piece bathing suit on your curvaceous body before quickly looking back up. Negan was a man who loved looking at women but he never expected to find himself looking at his friends daughter this way.

“You remember my old coworker Negan, don’t you?” Of course you remembered Negan, it had been years since you had seen him, he looked the same besides some extra patches of grey in his beard. Negan cleared his throat giving you a nod.

“All grown up now, huh?” Negan locked eyes with you and you could feel the way he was looking at you.

“Time sure does go by fast, doesn’t it?” Your father laughed as he turned back to the fridge for another beer, you caught Negan quickly look back down at your body. Always having had a crush on Negan you felt your skin turn hot with the way he was looking at you. Your father being so naive had no idea his friend was checking you out right in front of him.

“Well..I..I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be back for lunch.” You quickly walked out of the kitchen, Negan practically leaning over to watch you walk up the stairs until Joe turned back to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Amina, she’s changed a lot.” Negan took a sip of his beer as Joe sat across from him.

“Yeah she’s nineteen, I gotta deal with all this boy stuff now. It’d be easier if her mother was around.” He shook his head in disappointment.

Upstairs you could hear Negan speaking about you, you couldn’t stop replaying in your head the way he was looking at you. Yes, he may have been an older man and a friend of your dad but you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to him. Of course, you thought of it innocently...it’s not like you thought anything would actually happened between the two of you.

Coming back down for lunch you heard your dad cursing at himself.

“What happened?” You asked as you stepped into the kitchen wearing a white top and blue shorts. Negan did his best to keep his eyes off you with your father present.

“I dropped the damn pizza pie,” he sighed as he picked up the scraps off the floor.

“It’s alright I can go real quick to the restaurant and pick up a new pie, I’ll be back quick.”

As you walked to the pizza shop you noticed the sky suddenly turn very cloudy. Rushing as fast as you could to pick up the food you began to make your way back when it began to pour. The rain coming down hard and not having an umbrella you ran back to the house holding the pizza the best you could.

“Shit!” You ran into the house to find Negan sitting alone in the kitchen.

“I had no idea it was gonna rain,” you sighed as you turned your back to him to put the pizza box down on the counter.

“Where’s my dad?” You asked realizing he wasn’t in the kitchen as you opened up the box.

“The cable went out, he’s taking a look at the wires.” Negan responded calmly as he took a sip, his eyes never leaving your backside.

“I can’t believe I blow dried my hair for nothing,” you sighed as you grabbed a slice and turned to Negan casually taking a bite. Negans eyes dropped to your damp white shirt, the material stuck to your skin, you had not realized how transparent it was. Negan froze with the bottle close to his lips as he noticed your erect nipples, your plump breasts perfectly visible before his eyes.

“Jesus..” he whispered very low as you stood before him looking down at your slice of pizza.

“This is pretty good,” you spoke looking up noticing Negan staring at your body seeming hypnotized, before he quickly looked up.

“What is it?” You asked confused. Negan slowly squinted his eyes with a smile as he put the bottle down on the counter.

“What are you smiling about?” You asked as you put your pizza down. Negan stood up and slowly made his way to you. Standing just a few feet away he looked down at you with a smirk.

“Oh you have no idea what you’re doing do you?” He asked in a low voice taking one step closer. You took a step back staring up at him with big naive eyes, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Damn..look at you..so innocent..” the smirk faded as his eyes drifted down to your chest again, as confused as you were, you couldn’t help but sort of like the way he was looking at you. Looking down at yourself to see what exactly had him so captivated, you gasped when you realized how transparent your shirt became.

“Shit-“ you covered your breasts a bit embarrassed, he looked back up at you noticing your skin turn a soft shade of red. His signature smirk instantly making a return.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about....that’s a sweet pair.” He whispered when your dad suddenly called for him. Speechless your lips parted as he slowly walked backwards, giving you a wink and turning away.

Running upstairs to your room you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t believe the way Negan had just been looking at you. You had caught him checking you out earlier but this was a whole other level with the way he came towards you.

A half hour later you came back down after changing into a casual yellow dress. You found your dad and Negan on the couch watching the football game.

“Oh you fixed it?” You asked surprised, as your dad wasn’t the best at fixing things.

“Oh yeah, if it wasn’t for Negan here I might have not been able to fix it at all.” Negan looked back at you and winked making your heart jump before he turned back to the tv.

“Mind if I join you guys?” You asked as you sat on the couch beside your father, Negan on the other end sipping yet another beer.

“You want to sit and watch football?” Your dad looked over at you confused before he shrugged and turned his attention back to the tv. Negan leaned back on the couch discreetly looking over at you as your father sat up wanting to be as close to the television as he could. You could feel his eyes on you as you bit down on your bottom lip excitedly. Negan knew you knew he was looking at you, it excited him too. Turning back to the game, Negan stretched his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers unexpectedly brushing over your shoulder, he felt you slightly jump. Slowly you looked over at him to find him looking at you with a smirk, his fingers gently now caressing the back of your neck. You smiled at him when your father suddenly yelled excitedly.

“Fucking touch down!” Negan balled his hand into a fist as your father turned to him.

“Did you see that man? We’re killing it!” He yelled with excitement before turning back to the game. Taking a deep breath you felt Negans fingers touching you again, his finger slowly swirling up the side of your neck. You looked at each other as he began to slide his thumb across your bottom lip. Negan adjusted himself on the couch, feeling himself get aroused by the innocent look in your eyes as he slowly pushed his thumb between your lips. Softly you sucked on his thumb as his eyes never left yours, you couldn’t believe what was happening. The secrecy of it all giving you a tingly sensation in the pit of your stomach. If it wasn’t for the pillow laying on his lap you would’ve been able to see the hard on you were giving him.

“Oh man, I think I’m gonna get another beer. Negan you want another?” As quickly as he spoke Negan pulled his hand away as your father stood up.

“Yeah sure I’ll take another.” Negan responded casually as you sat with your arms crossed looking at the tv.

“I’m telling you this girl never watches football, I don’t know what’s got into her.” Your father laughed before he walked off to the kitchen. Negan watched him disappear before turning to you, his hand leaning over the couch close to you.

“You like this...don’t you?” He whispered with an expression that made you melt, his finger once again brushing over your shoulder.

“Maybe,” you whispered making him grin.

“You don’t have to be shy with me, sweetheart.” Before you could respond, Negan pulled his hand away as your father returned into the room.

“What I miss?” Your dad asked as he sat down in between the both of you.

“Nothing really..” Negan responded as your father leaned forward paying attention to the game.

“I think I’m gonna go get another slice of pizza.” You spoke, your father giving you a quick nod before looking back at the game. Negan looked back at you watching you leave the room not being able but to stare at your ass. He waited a few minutes as he saw Joe get more caught up in the game before asking to excuse himself.

“I’m gonna use your restroom.”

“Yeah sure-oh shit that was a close one!” Joe yelled as Negan took one last look at him before walking off.

Quietly he walked into the kitchen, your back to him as you placed your pizza on a plate and began to walk towards the stair way.

“And where are you going?” You jumped turning to him with your hand on your chest.

“I was gonna get my phone from my room.”

“Leaving the party so early?” He furrowed his brows with a smile as he stepped closer to you, you nervously stepping back into the hall opposite from where your father was.

“I was gonna come back..I just wanted to check my phone..” you looked up at him shyly as your back touched the stairway. Negan moved closer staring down at you intimidatingly.

“Why do you look so nervous, baby girl?”

As much as you liked the way Negan looked at you, the way Negan touched you just minutes earlier in the living room, you suddenly got nervous.

“My..my dad. He can come in here any minute.”

Negan chuckled delicately pushing your long locks that lay on your chest, over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, he sounds pretty distracted to me. Doesn’t he?” He squinted his eyes with a smile before looking down at your chest area.

“That’s a nice necklace you have there,” Negans index finger slid under your silver chain that lay perfectly over your breasts. The feel of his finger lightly brushing past your nipple sent shivers down your spine.

“Thank you,” you smiled nervously as he looked down at the charm, his finger now purposely brushing against your breast. He noticed the form of your nipples harden behind your dress and bit his bottom lip with a smile.

“Is this turning you on?” His eyes locked with yours as he stepped closer, his finger dropping your chain then trailing up to your jaw line. Hesitantly you leaned back against the stairs, your hands flat against the wall beside you, Negan tilted your head up to him and leaned in for a kiss. In shock you let his lips take yours, his tongue eagerly parting them making you softly moan. Negan took your arms and placed them around his neck, his hands drifting down to your waist as he continued to kiss you. He felt you slightly shiver as he touched you, the scent of cigarettes and beer, the feel of his scruff, you couldn’t believe your fathers friend was touching you in this manner. Your dad yelled in excitement from the game making you gasp pulling away, Negan looked behind him before turning back to you and pulling you back against him.

“Negan...my dad will kill me...” with a grin on his face he unbuckled his pants with one hand let them drop to his knees. You looked down and parted your lips at the sight of his clear hard on behind his navy blue boxers.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be sucha pussy.” He unexpectedly picked up one of your legs putting it around him, he began to thrust against you.

“Your crazy..” you whispered as he pushed up against you.

“And you like it.” He whispered hoarsely before kissing your neck. The tip of his cock behind his boxers continued to push against you as he lifted up your dress. The thin fabric of your underwear making it easier for you to feel him against your clit. He suddenly pulled away and went around the stairs as if he was going to go up.

“What are you doing?” You whispered as he sat back on the steps and pulled out his cock. You gasped as he slowly jerked himself, it was like you had never seen a cock before although you had...just not like this.

“Come here-“ Negan grabbed your hand and placed it around his cock making you feel how thick and warm he was.

“Negan...I don’t think-I don’t think...this is a good idea..” you began to panic but before you knew it Negans fingers were between your legs. His index finger sliding behind the fabric of your underwear feeling how wet you already were.

“Something tells me you’re lying, baby girl.” He spoke in a rough voice and you couldn’t resist it was almost like you were hypnotized. Negan pulled you up a step and guided you to stand over him. Moving your underwear to the side and holding on to the banister you lowered yourself onto Negan.

“That’s it, sweetheart..” His hands on your waist tightening at the feel of his tip already drenched with your wetness until you lowered yourself completely.

“Ohh...” you may have been afraid to keep going but it felt so damn good feeling his full length inside you. In a squatting position you proceeded to move up and down on him, one hand on the wall, the other on the banister. The television blasted loud you moaned throwing your head back. Negan bought you down on him with harder force as he looked up at you. Looking into his eyes you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, your heart racing from the rush, never did you expect this. His hand quickly pushing your dress down to get the view of your breasts bouncing made him moan deeply.

“Look at you..” he whispered out of breath.

“Fucking perfect.” Negans long legs hanging down the steps as he spread them, his cock now in a deeper angle inside you. Unexpectedly you screamed louder than you meant to making you gasp covering your lips.

“Amina?!” You eyes bulged out hearing your father call out for you from the living room. The distraction causing you to stop moving but Negan couldn’t help himself and began to pump upward fast. You began to feel your body tremble making it hard for you to respond. There was silence and all that could be heard was the sound of how wet you were each time Negan thrusted upward.

“Negan...wait-“ you whispered desperately before he roughly grabbed your face.

“Answer him.” He spoke sternly as you grabbed onto him with how quickly he moved. You nodded nervously as Negan let go of your face and let you respond.

“I’m fine!” You yelled out in a voice that trembled. Negan grinned lifting your dress up enough for your ass to show and spanked it hard.

“Good girl, now keep riding me until you cum.” Balancing yourself on him you took control as Negan lay his head back on the step feeling you drip all over him. You moaned riding him hard, the stairs practically squeaking before your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

“Oh-Negan...I’m gonna fall-“ you gasped as you shook.

“No you’re not.” He grabbed you tightly sitting up.

“Go ahead baby, cum on me-“ before he could finish, you grabbed onto him tightly. Planning to hold in your cry as best as you could, you heard the volume go up in the living room as your dad yelled at the tv and you released a loud moan of pleasure.

“That’s it, Amina..” You felt Negan moving beneath you as he gently grabbed the side of your face.

“You wanna swallow for me sweetheart?” You nodded your head out of breath and proceeded to lift yourself off of him. Negan watched you get on your knees and begin to suck him off, he moaned holding your hair up with one hand as you bobbed your head.

“Oh yeah, Amina...just like that..” he whispered, you moved your head faster making him roll his eyes back before he thrusted his hips upward and released himself in your mouth. Negan moaned holding your head down tightly making you swallow every drop of him. Finally he let go making you gasp for air. Before fixing your dress, you wiped your lips as Negan stood up. Looking at him speechless you watched as he lifted his pants up with a grin.

“Oh you really are a bad girl,” he chuckled as he came down the steps.

“Negan you’re good back there?!” Your father called out interrupting the stare Negan gave you.

“Yeah I’m grabbing a beer!” He yelled back before looking back at you with a smirk.

“Why don’t you fix yourself up and come join us for the rest of the game, sweetheart.”

“I shouldn’t..” you shook your head with a shy smile as you walked backwards up the stairs.

“Why not? Afraid you may want some more before I go?” Negan grinned at your response, he could tell you were in some kind of shock that you both took it this far.

“I’m gonna go fix myself up, I’ll be out in a bit.” You turned quickly going up the stairs leaving Negan with his thoughts.

Negan returned to the kitchen, grabbed a hand towel and dried his sweat off before grabbing a beer.

“What I miss?” Negan walked back into the living room sitting back on the couch as Joe waved his hands around explaining what’s been happening in the game.

“We were doing so good, I don’t know what happened.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn around again,” Negan responded casually sipping his beer when you walked in and sat beside your father.

“Where have you been?”

“I was on the phone with my friend,” you responded not taking your eyes off the tv. You could feel Negan looking over at you, you got the chills thinking about what he was just doing to you minutes before in the hallway.

The next few minutes you sat in silence, your dad and Negan cheering for the game when your dads phone began to ring.

“Fuck, I gotta take this. It’s work.” Your father picked up the call quickly rushing out of the living room. You heard him go up the stairs talking loudly on the phone and instantly saw Negan turn your way with the corner of your eye.

“Why so far away?” Negan asked as you looked over at him.

“My father will be back in here any minute.” You looked back at the tv before Negan unexpectedly got up and moved right next to you.

“Stop being so damn scared,” Negan chuckled.

“I’m not being scared-“ you gasped feeling Negans hand move up your inner thigh.

“Negan..not now..” you looked behind you worriedly as Negan unbuckled his pants, before you knew it he had his cock out.

“Oh come on, you’re gonna act like I didn’t just have that pussy cumming in the hall.”

“Negan!” You whispered as he grinned.

“Just a quickie before he comes back.” He adjusted your body pulling you down, your backside against him.

“I don’t know...” you looked back again as he lifted your leg up and pushed your underwear to the side.

“Negan..” you looked back at him now, feeling the tip of his cock tease you.

“One more time before I go.” You didn’t say a word, your eyes never leaving his as he thrusted into you. Leaning your head back against him, you moaned softly as he moved fast. There was no way to resist Negan, he knew how to make you feel ways no other man had made you feel. The tv on mute you could hear Negan breathing heavily close to your ear. His face leaning against you, he could hear you struggling to hold in your screams.

“Negan..Negan...slow down-“ you panted.

“Oh no, baby.” He could feel you were about to cum, you panicked afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep your voice low. Your eyes rolled back and Negan quickly grabbed your face pressing his lips against yours, muffling your moans as he continued to thrust. Your father could be heard still on the phone upstairs as you breathed heavily.

“Where do you want it?” Negan whispered out of breath against your ear as he thrusted in quick movements. Looking back at him you struggled to speak as he looked down at you.

“Quick baby, I’m about to-“

“Cum in me..” you whispered catching him off guard. Your words itself causing him to erupt inside you with a deep moan. His deep voice trembled as his thrusts slowed down.

“Negan!” You gasped hearing your father come down the stairs.

“Yeah?” You could hear the struggle in Negans voice as he slid himself in and out one last time.

“Come here, the big boss called about you coming back to work!” Your father stopped in the kitchen as Negan pulled out and quickly fixed himself up. You turned around on the couch pulling your dress down before he unexpectedly leaned in and kissed you. His hand going around your back lifting your body up towards him before he let go and quickly ran to the kitchen.

“Holy shit..” you whispered to yourself.

“What the hell am I doing?” Each time he had sex with you, it felt amazing but the fear you felt after of your father ever finding out ate at you. You wondered, was this the end of it? Would it happen again? Did you want it to happen again? Why of course you did.

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead negan #Negan x you #Negan x reader #negan fan fic #negan fan fiction #negan twd #the walking dead imagines

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pasteljeon · 5 years ago

Text

sincerely, yours (m)

summary: in which you return to an apartment full of 7 horny boyfriends.

pairing: ot7 x reader

warnings: pining, dirty talk, heavy petting, sexual tension

length: 2.9k

notes: this is another blm commission written for the amazing @/himbeaux-joon. thank you so much for your support and donation! i hope you enjoy n forgive me for the wait.

“You’re fucked.”

You pull your phone away from your ear out of pure disbelief. Squinting at the screen, you’re assured you’re speaking to the right person when your friend’s name peers back at you.

“Sorry?”

She said it so casually and offhandedly you do a double take. Your luggage rolls noisily behind you, a hefty and rather rickety thing, though you don’t quite have the heart to rid of it just yet. It has character, stickers and stamps collected from your various travels scattered on the cover. Some are fraying and others greying and half-peeled. Some are new, recently added to the collection and sparkle almost obnoxiously next to your dying ones.

“You are so fucked,” she laughs. It’s less of a laugh and more of a cackle. You check your phone again. Still her.

“Are you going to elaborate on that?” You say dryly as you finally wheel yourself out of customs. The last month has been hectic, your job and position requiring you to fly overseas for the past three weeks. You would think your boys would have been used to the asynchronistic nature of your schedules considering how busy they usually are, but they did finish the last leg of their tour just as you left. Your company offered another two weeks of paid vacation is a thank-you for the generous contract you just signed. Your boys protested and pouted but you took it, adamant about finally taking that much needed break.

They reluctantly let you go, faking tears but understanding, their jobs equally as, if not more, stressful.

“Nope.” She pops the p with some dark sense of satisfaction, and you repress the shiver that crawls down your spine. “But I can say it’s a good type of fucking. You know, the one where you bend Jungkook over the—”

“Okay, got it, thank you,” you cut her off hastily, holding a hand over the speaker to muffle her voice that rises into a sing-song, glancing around discreetly to ensure no one’s eavesdropped over your rather scandalous conversation.

“You ever notice how whiny your boys can get when you’re away?” She teases when you return to the line. Rummaging in your purse for some change, you scan the airport café for some iced coffee, chuckling, “Yes. You have no idea.”

“You know all the boys have a chat exclusive for their very not safe for work thoughts?” she tells you. It makes you choke and laugh simultaneously, the cashier eyeing you strangely as he takes your order.

“I don’t know how they make it sounds so hot,” your friend continues blandly. “Normally it sounds so greasy. But they’re usually so well-behaved and polite. I was so shocked. I had no idea that Jimin liked—”

You yelp, staring down at your shirt. Luckily, it’s dark enough to hide the stain, so you mop it up sheepishly, thanking the server who offers you some napkins, clucking sympathetically.

“What?” You hissed, pulling to the side. You’re whisper-shouting into your phone now. “They did what?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Didn’t Rhys tell you? He was rolling all over about it,” she snickers. You splutter. Rhys is a close friend to the both of you, and often spent nights gaming with Jungkook and Taehyung. You knew your boys had a group chat with your other male friends but … “But they’re usually so polite,” you exclaim.

Your friend clicks her tongue. “Cue exhibit A. Anyway, good luck girl. You’re gonna need it.” Without waiting for your reply, she ends the call, her cackles cutting off into an odd ringing in your ear.

“Oh dear,” you say to yourself, staring down at your drink. “What am I walking into?”

Your friend’s call is lousy warning, if you’re going to be honest.

Only the maknaes are able to pick you up from the airport, with the remainder of the boys caught up in the photoshoot. They were able to wrap up before your flight landed.

They’re a ball of hazed energy. Dressed casually, face masked and caps donned, they somehow manage to blend in with the crowd of receivers. Your breath catches. In the short time away, you’ve forgotten just how little justice pictures and videos do for them. They’re beautiful.

They watch you like hawks, glazed eyes dark and you’re genuinely a little concerned for Taehyung. The outline of his length presses insistently against his black slacks, but he pays no attention, half-lidded as he peers at you through thick lashes. You’re shocked no one’s carded him for public indecency yet. The image alone is enough to make your core to clench.

There’s no fanfare, no glee, no innocent excitement, no cheerful, “noona!” you expected from the youngest. Instead, Jungkook silently reaches over to relieve you of your luggage, fingers grazing your palm. He pulls down his mask to kiss the corner of your mouth. He visibly tears himself away, and you can see the way his veins pop under the pressure, jaw clenching hard. Electricity sparks down your spine, making you shiver.

“Heart. Welcome back,” Taehyung rumbles as he tips your chin up. His voice is more of a growl, the sound reverberates from his chest, low and incredibly sexy it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

“I missed you,” Jimin pushes his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. He catches your hand when you reach for him, steadying your shaky knees. You clutch at the sleeve of his turtleneck, his palm cupping the back of your head as his nose skims the column of your throat.

“G-guys, we’re in public,” you manage in a faint whisper, and Jimin’s grip tightens briefly before he reluctantly pulls away. Jungkook takes your other hand, Taehyung leading the way to the car.

They brush your concern off easily, not even bothering to scan their surroundings in case anyone’s recognized them. You do a cursory sweep anyway, but find the airport still relatively empty, the crowd occupied with their own arrivals. Suddenly, you’re once again struck with a profound sense of appreciation for Namjoon’s forever careful scheduling of your flights so this could be possible.

The underground parking lot is quiet, and you exchange no words as Jungkook’s Mercedes comes into view.

The sexual tension is, as they say, palpable.

You move to follow Jimin into the backseat, but Jungkook grabs your wrist, twirling you around. The cool metal meets your heated skin for a brief moment before he pulls you close. “Noona,” he murmurs, bringing your arm to his lips. He fastens his mouth over your pulse point, suckling gently. His lashes tickle your inner wrist.

“Jungkook,” you say breathily, his leg coming to push your thighs apart. You nearly collapse onto him, and he releases you with an agonized sigh. The mark blooms darkly, and he lets out a long exhale.

“Gguk.” There’s a warning in his tone.

“I know,” the maknae bites back. He lets you down slowly, hungry gaze raking over your form one last time before he lets Taehyung help you into the car.

He walks to the driver’s side, forehead pressing against the hood fleetingly before sliding into the seat. It does nothing to settle the heat stirring in his stomach. He can’t bring himself to regret it, though, despite the way his pants dig into his hard cock.

Just a little longer. His fingers grip the wheel tightly, knuckles whitening as he pulls out of the lot.

They can hardly keep their hands off of you, glued to your side the entirety of the ride back.

Jungkook wants to scream out of pure frustration. He can hardly concentrate, though it is the crack of dawn and traffic is sparse.

He can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick sounds of your makeout sessions. He resists the urge to check the rear-view mirror for the nth time. He knows one glance is enough to make his thighs clench.

He hears your soft, melodic sighs between kisses, lips likely beautifully swollen and plump from their coaxing. He knows that Taehyung is sweet, and that Jimin is eager, a little rough. It's downright pornographic. His eye twitches.

“Mmm, Chim,” you mewl.

That's it. He growls. “Guys, knock it off. Otherwise we’re taking her in the back of my car.”

“Wouldn't be such a bad idea,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook risks a glimpse, only to see Taehyung mouthing at your neck, one hand down your pants. You're a vision, sprawled on Jimin's lap, head tossed back against his neck. Back arched, shirt halfway unbuttoned, bra peeking out and hair disheveled.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook barks. He’s a second away from breaking the wheel. Red light. He watches Taehyung suck a blooming flower against your neckline. He pulls away reluctantly to admire it.

“It's fine,” Jimin pipes up, and Jungkook swears he pops a vessel with the way the older slides a hand up to cup your breast, thumbing your peaks from under the silken material. “We're here.”

The maknae parks the car hastily, all too relieved to be home. He practically yanks the hinges off the passenger door open. Jimin groans, almost falling flat on his ass at the sudden momentum. “Jeon!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, stepping aside for Jimin to step out. Jungkook catches you, stumbling with trembling legs and poorly adjusted shirt. He sweeps you into his arms without another thought, moving briskly towards the entrance. His strength makes you squirm in his hold, clutching his tensed bicep.

“Smell so good,” he groans, and he has to pause at the door, letting you down only to pin you against the glass, kissing you hard.

“Taste so good,” he pants, unable to stop himself from grinding against you. He wants you close, craves you. Your hands snake under his shirt, pushing it up impatiently to flatten your palm against his toned stomach, the other fumbling with his belt.

The sound of the leather and metal coming undone makes him hiss, hips jerking. “Sensitive baby,” you murmur teasingly, fingers digging into his v-line. Jungkook’s breath stutters, cock throbbing unwittingly.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” he moans, slumping onto you as you give his clothed length a tentative squeeze. He’s so incredibly hard it’s painful. The blood rushing to his dick is making him dizzy, a little breathless.

Before you can reply, the door is abruptly wrenched open. You gasp, Jungkook nearly toppling over, but he braces you under his arm, catching you easily.

“Told you he wouldn’t make it in before he succumbed.” You look up to see Hoseok gazing down at you with those strong brows of his, studying you with an intensity that has your body flushing with heat again. Even upside down he’s gorgeous beyond reason.

Jungkook flips you back up, and Hoseok’s lips quirk when he catches you floundering.

“Bet he came in his pants.” Namjoon walks forward, hands in his pockets and his tone is casual, like he’s discussing the menu from your favourite diner.

“Colour me shocked the neighbours haven’t carded the two of you for public indecency,” Yoongi drawls, smirking when Jungkook blushes darkly.

“I’m going to develop abandonment issues if you keep forgetting about us like that.” Jungkook rubs his neck, embarrassed, as Taehyung and Jimin step in with mirroring looks of disgruntlement. Taehyung walks over, lips quirking wryly as you slide your arms over his neck.

“Don’t tease,” you chastise, but he ignores you in lieu of pulling you close, swaying slightly to the sound of his quiet humming. His hands are hot, burning through the thin material of your shirt as he presses you flush against his body.

“Romantic,” you whisper, smiling. Taehyung smiles too, eyes still closed.

“Welcome back, beautiful.” You startle at the sound, but smile at the familiar voice, leaning into his touch. Taehyung allows you to slip from his hold, the newcomer twirling you around.

“Hi, Jin,” you say shyly, biting your lip. Seokjin beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Missed you so much,” he says softly. “Was about to lose my sanity if you were away any longer.”

You laugh aloud, and Seokjin looks a little awestruck at the sound, watching you with that soft, adoring look in his eyes. “I thought you would’ve enjoyed the peace while I was gone.”

“Hardly. I was left in a house full of horny kids. The testosterone levels were crazy,” he sighs dramatically. “Pass.”

Somewhere in the background, Namjoon snorts. “Please, hyung. You act like you weren’t jacking off three times a day to her pictures.”

Seokjin squeaks, Hoseok roaring in laughter. Jungkook claps a hand to his mouth, trying and failing to hide his mirth, sexual tension momentarily forgotten.

You loop your arms around his neck with a coy smile. “Is this true, Jinnie?”

“Don’t tease me,” he mumbles into your neck. He feels the shaking of your silent giggles and groans. “I hate you, Joon.”

“If it helps, I’m flattered, you know. And the feeling is mutual, in case you were wondering,” you whisper to him.

“It wasn’t just that,” Seokjin grumbles, glancing away as the tips of his ears darken. “I always want you around. You’re my home, you know.”

Your heart swells, fingers tingling. “Jin,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks. He looks everywhere but at you, complexion mirroring a tomato alarmingly fast. Seokjin, who can dish out sweetness but never take it, mood maker but so shy. Seokjin, who is kind and charming and gorgeous and has a big, beautiful heart.

“I love you so much,” you whisper. He looks at you wonderingly, as if mystified by such an all-encompassing sentiment.

“___ … You have no idea how much I adore you,” Seokjin breathes, a little giddy, a little lightheaded by that fond, warm expression you’re regarding him with.

“Not more than me.” The two of you jump at the sound, jolted from your secluded bubble, to see, shockingly, Yoongi pouting behind the eldest. The composer has his arms crossed, brows knitted and cheeks puffed out.

“Did you forget about us again,” Yoongi says, petulant. You and Seokjin look at one another, stunned, before bursting into laughter.

Namjoon and Hoseok join the rapper, crowding the two of you from the sides, sporting similarly roguish grins. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook share a mischievous look, squishing in close.

“Guys,” Seokjin complains, broad shoulders being quashed by the sheer force of Jungkook’s biceps. Your face is pressed uncomfortable tight against his – impossibly solid and strong – chest.

“Can’t – breathe,” you yelp, voice muffled. A hand grabs your wrist and pops you from the throng.

“Hello again,” Hoseok grins.

“Hoseokie,” you gasp, a little winded but still incredibly grateful for a breath of fresh air, something the dancer himself seems to embody.

“Sunshine,” he says happily, reaching for you. Before he can wrap himself around you, Namjoon comes slamming in, dimples and all.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our little reunion, my dick is hard and throbbing and the obscene amount of times I’ve simultaneously cried and jacked off to the sound of your voice is absurd, my cock should’ve wilted at the pure ferocity and angst I’ve poured onto the poor thing, and I am beyond ecstatic to have you back – so much so that I need to rail you against the our skyline balcony, lest I implode within the next two minutes. So! Let’s move to the bedroom, shall we?” Namjoon says matter-of-factly.

“Good idea,” Hoseok beams, completely unfazed by their leader’s rather lewd confession as he scoops you up easily, your boyfriends quickly following suit.

Hoseok sets you down onto the centre of the king-sized bed, silk sheets bunching beneath you as you sprawl over them. You move to sit up on your elbows, but Jungkook hovers over you, pressing you down instantly.

His dark eyes rake over your form unabashedly, one hand popping the surviving buttons of your top and the other pulling off his shirt.

“Greedy maknae.” Jungkook readily ignores Seokjin’s disgruntled mutter in the background as he leans down kiss you.

“Missed your taste,” he murmurs. Your hand trails down his bare chest, retracing every memorized groove and dip of his unfairly gorgeous body.

“Jungkook.” He tears himself away, panting heavily, to glance at Namjoon, who sends him a warning look.

“Don’t be selfish,” the rapper chastises. Jungkook drops his gaze to where you lay splayed out beneath him, hair mussed and lips swollen, chest heaving as you recover from his ministrations.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at the least. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, growling once before he slides off.

“You’re in for a long night, beautiful,” Hoseok tells you, cupping your face and thumbing your cheek slowly, revelling the heat that tinges your skin. “You have no idea how much we’ve missed you. And not just this.”

“I missed you all too,” you whisper, smile soft.

Yoongi closes the door.

Your phones blow up the entire night, left collectively buzzing beneath the couch cushions.

[03:21] rhys: damn, y’all still banging? it’s been 4 days

[04:28] rhys: i need a gf

“Mmm. Tickles.”

“Good morning, gorgeous.” You smile into the pillow, eyes still closed, turning your head to the side expectantly. You know your expression is a little blissful, and you hear his fond chuckle.

“Love you,” you mumble. Someone presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Love you too, heart.”

#smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jimin x reader #jimin smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut

4K notes · View notes

smurphyse · 4 years ago

Note

Loki is dating a young woman who is a fantastic cook and one day he realizes his pants are a tad tight. He’s gained some weight but doesn’t have the heart to stop eating her wonderful food

Southern Belle

Word Count: 1691 words

Tags: body issues (not like anything too triggering, I don’t think), mentions of sex

I always love feedback, but like, please be nice lol

Send me more Loki prompts! <3 I love doing oneshots!

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

“Here we go,” she sing-songed, carrying a large baking dish over to the table, the little hand-painted ladybugs that decorated it’s sides seeming just as excited as she.

Loki sat patiently, smiling at her as she set it down on the blue checkered tablecloth next to a tub of ice cream. She set down a few brightly colored plates, all painted with various bugs and flowers, decorated by her own hand- which were still stained with paint, he noticed fondly.

“Peach cobbler,” she grinned, shaking her shoulders in excitement, “Just like Mamaw used to make!”

She watched him closely as he took his first bite, giggling when his eyebrows knitted together in bliss. Fuck, everything she made seemed to come from Valhalla.

His girl, his Southern Belle. The two had been dating for only a few months, ever since Loki had come to San Francisco during his travels. She had been poking around an art fair, her long curls pulled up into two pigtails as she pulled out pieces to observe.

She’d been wearing a pair of dirt smeared overalls, detailed with little butterflies and flowers, obviously hand-embroidered. They were rolled up at the ankles, her neon Converse forcing his eye to her like a shining beacon in the night.

He’d been drawn to her, like a moth to the flame, unable to control himself as he pushed past the crowds to meet her. As he came face-to-face with her she glanced up at him and flashed him a megawatt smile. He’d been speechless, utterly besotted.

“Can I help you, darlin’? You look lost,” she drawled, and it took a moment for the Allspeak to translate her thick Southern accent.

“I think I’ve just been found, actually,” he chuckled, finally finding his voice.

Her smile seemed to grow brighter, the little crinkles around her eyes deepening as she flushed deeply.

Loki had offered her a coffee, and she took it. He’d been living in bliss ever since.

She’d come to San Francisco to be an artist, picking up little commissions here and there, working in various galleries and zipping from place to place to help out her fellow creators. She was constantly buzzing around, full of excitement and energy about the whole world around her, ready to take it on day by day.

She gave Loki courage, made him see the little details of this Odin-forsaken planet that he had mostly overlooked. He loathed to admit it, but she had made him love Earth, so long as she was on it.

One day he would take her to Asgard, and he would watch as she painted the skies in her excitement and ecstasy. His world would be born anew in his eyes, just from the little things she would point out, things he’d never seen.

They found time for one another whenever they could. Loki had kept himself busy working in various art fairs, finding himself a good organizer for such events. One activity that they had found pulled them together, besides the lovely rapture that was their sex, was cooking. Loki had taken it up when he arrived on Earth, mostly enjoying food closer to Asgard’s cuisines. She was from the South, whatever that meant Loki was not sure, but she insisted it meant all things ‘comfort food’.

And comfort it gave. She’d shown him Tennessee Barbeque, ‘Pop Pop’s Soaked Ribs’, a bunch of things having to do with cottage cheese, and of course, desserts.

He was settling down. Norns, if Thor could see him now. He’d likely have a joke or two to make of his unattached, emotionally distant brother finding love in such a creature as her.

Loki could hear her now, singing some country song in the shower, her deep twang echoing off the tiles and through her small apartment.

He was getting ready for the day, pulling on a deep green undershirt as he stood in his boxers. He pulled a pair of black slacks out of his little designated area of the closet and pulled them up.

As he buttoned them, he noticed they felt a bit tighter than the last time he’d worn them a few weeks ago. They had one of her art events to go to for lunch, and he’d been wearing jeans mostly when he was working at the fairs.

Turning, Loki checked out his ass in the mirror. He still looked fabulous if he had to say, but his pants were tighter.

Could this be a trick? Had Thor tracked him down and performed some spell to throw Loki off his game? It certainly would not be the first time something similar had happened.

He lifted the shirt, turning to the side as he patted his tummy, his finger pinching along his sides as he sighed heavily. He stepped closer to the mirror, pressing the back of his hand under his chin. His mouth dropped open in shock, and he glared at his reflection.

He’d gained weight.

“I wouldn’t have nothin’ if I didn’t have you,” she sang as she walked back into the bedroom in a fluffy pink towel. She came up behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist, giving him a squeeze as she placed a kiss between his shoulders.

“Hey, handsome.”

Loki scoffed, feeling quite uncomfortable suddenly. She frowned against his back, her hands squeezing his sides lightly, his love handles.

He pulled away from her with a groan, the air feeling heavy around him. He turned to look at her, her lip set in a pout on her concerned face.

“I’m not feeling very handsome today, kitten.”

“Oh,” her frown set deeper for a moment, but was quickly replaced by a mischievous smile, “Is there something I can do to make you feel handsome?”

She tucked her lip between her teeth as she sauntered back up to him, placing her hands on his chest. He smiled down at her, his heart bursting in his chest.

Loki dipped his head, catching her lips with his own. Her hands tangled into his hair as her towel fell away, and Loki took the opportunity to lift her into his arms and carry her over to the bed.

“I think I have something in mind,” he grinned, pulling her under the covers as she giggled from his touch.

----------------------

They arrived at the event a little late. The only craft she was not talented in was the art of makeup, but luckily Loki was, and they’d had to spend a few extra minutes covering up some of the hickeys someone had left on her neck and chest.

They were at some vegan restaurant in town that doubled as an art studio. Loki would never understand it, all these hybrid businesses were too niche, they’d have a hard time lasting in this market. But, she liked going and supporting other artists and friends, enjoyed having her art displayed on the walls of local businesses, and who was he to deny her that fun?

The little buffet table was filled with all sorts of leafy greens and vegetables of all colors. It was a vibrant exhibit, accentuated greatly by her art that complimented the bright green and orange paint job of the establishment.

“How come you don’t make food like this?” he asked, waving a blackbean taquito toward her as she gazed at another artist’s work.

“I make vegetables all the time,” she shrugged, snagging the taquito out of his hand and taking a bite.

“You make vegetables with Crisco, which I believe is just butter and animal fat mixed together.”

“I thought you liked my food, honey,” her big eyes clouded with worry, and his chest crumbled in an instant.

“Oh, my sweet,” Loki sighed, snaking one of his hands around her waist, the other moving to cup her chin, “I do, it’s just-”

“Just what? You’ve been acting weird all day, Loki. What’s going on?”

He felt the heat creep across his cheeks, embarrassment flooding his every vein as he looked down at her. He hated feeling like this, vulnerable, but he wanted to be honest with her, to invest in this relationship.

“I’ve gained some weight recently… and I think it’s from your cooking.”

Her eyes widened in shock, “I haven’t noticed.”

His head cocked to the side, his lips pursing in disbelief. She noticed everything, from the ants on the sidewalk to the stars in the sky, she saw it all.

“Loki, if you want me to make healthier meals, I’m more than willing. You just seemed to like my comfort recipes so much, and I wanted to make you things you liked,” she wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging his hips tightly against hers. “I have lots of recipes in my book, darlin’.”

“I do love your cooking. I guess I just feel a little… insecure right now,” he admitted, his face starting to cramp from the blazing blush across his nose.

“I really didn’t notice anything, but,” her hands dragged back to his belly, patting it softly as she stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Now that you mention it, I do like the little bit of cushion I’m feelin’.”

“Wow,” he chuckled, kissing her again. He covered her hands with his, giving them a soft squeeze of thanks.

Suddenly, he had an idea. He leaned in and whispered hotly against her ear, “Think you can help me work some of it off?”

“Oh,” she feigned innocence, her southern drawl coming out in full force, “what kind of exercises do you have in mind?”

“The kind that includes me, you, and a locked bathroom door fifteen feet away,” Loki smirked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m gonna be so sore in the mornin’,” she laughed as Loki dragged her to the other end of the restaurant, admiring his ass in his trousers unabashedly.

Loki pulled her into the bathroom, locking the door behind them as he lifted her onto the sink. She grinned at him, her eyes full of light as he looked at her lovingly.

His girl, his Southern Belle.

His favorite thing to eat.

#Loki #loki series #loki oneshot #loki x oc #loki x reader #if you squint #make it about you #idc #smurphyse #loki fanfic #fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason

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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years ago

Text

Water (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

A/N: I finally finished the Miami shower sex fic. It’s roughly ~5K words of nonsense, 60% is filth, and the urge to re-write it is strong, but here it is.

Enjoy!

~v~

Being in Miami with Naomi unnerves Ethan in ways he can’t articulate. They aren’t in the confines of the hospital, bound by the strict boss and subordinate boundaries he’s attempted to set for them. And while they’re in the city for a medical conference, he can’t help but feel like he’s just Ethan and she’s just Naomi.

Her presence is overwhelming and intoxicating. From the way she took charge and ordered them drinks on the plane, to the way her luggage spills over their shared hotel suite despite being checked in for less than 3 hours, to the way it feels effortless just walking along the beach with her, Ethan can’t escape her and the role she’s slipped into feels too familiar and comfortable, which actually gives off the opposite effect. It terrifies him.

“We’re in Miami, for goodness’s sake, our hotel is literally on the water, and we are going to the beach,” is what Naomi told him after she slipped out of her plane clothes and put on something more appropriate for the warm Miami weather. She didn’t give him any time to object–and boy did he want to–before catching his wrist and dragging him out of their hotel room.

And that’s how he ended up taking a walk on the beach, the hot sand sticking to his toes, Naomi by his side. For reasons he’s not ready to face, he can’t say no to her and it’s infuriating. But on the flip side, the way her cheeks turn up and eyes sparkle at the enjoyment of the little things like this make his insides twist, and he’s a prisoner to her happiness.

“Come on, we’re hundreds of miles away from the hospital, the beautiful sun is beaming down on us, and there’s nothing but warm sand and ocean breeze around us. You have to admit that this is nice,” Naomi urges, poking Ethan in between the ribs.

They came to Miami on a mission, and that was to get help for Naveen and also fulfill his duties to the hospital. Frolicking on the beach was nowhere on the agenda.

“We’re here for work. And besides, I could be spending this time catching up on sleep or enjoying our air conditioned suite. That’s my definition of nice.”

“I swear, you probably came out of the womb a grumpy old man,” Naomi teases. “At least try to unwind.”

“The fact that you managed to drag me out here is testimony enough, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” Naomi says, leaving no room for debate. This is one of those times where Ethan isn’t all that enamored by her stubbornness.She sits down in the sand, throwing down her sandals. She extends a hand, and after a few seconds Ethan sighs and begrudgingly accepts it, allowing her to pull him down as well.

“Now close your eyes,” Naomi orders, watching Ethan closely to see if he listens. Once he realizes that she isn’t going to stop glaring at him, he closes them. “Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this so you’ll eventually leave me alone.”

“Always the fuddy duddy. Can you sit in complete and utter silence for 10 seconds? Please?”

Something about the way she says that word only adds to the list of things she does that make him uneasy. Only because he hates the way he responds to her plea, something stirring in the pit of his stomach.

It’s hard for him to handle the stillness of the moment. He’s gotten too used to always moving, always having something to do, but he sucks it up and tries.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Naomi asks.

“Is it bad to say I don’t know?”

“Yes. I’d kill to have your vacation days.”

“Well what about you?”

“I went to Aspen with my family for Christmas last year,” Naomi replies. “We used to go on at least one vacation a year when I was a kid. I don’t know how much of that I’ll be doing with my residency, but it’s nice to get away, even if it’s for a few days, you know?”

“I do. I think it’s been a solid three years since I had a real vacation. I went to Italy.”

“Rome?”

“Florence.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Of course.” Ethan feels her thumb trace a circle on the inside of his palm, and that’s when he notices that they never stopped holding hands when she pulled him down, and his pulse skitters. Part of him believes Naomi doesn’t notice she’s doing it, so he stays silent.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“I’m fluent in all of the Romance languages,” Ethan admits.

Naomi scoffs and playfully nudges him with her shoulder. “No one likes a show-off, polyglot.”

“What about you?”

“I speak very minimal French. My grandma taught me some basics when I was a kid and spent my summers with her, and I tried to fine tune my skills in high school, but I’m not fluent.”

This is the first time he’s heard her talk about her family, even a little bit, and he clings to the information as if it’s precious.

This time when the conversation tapers, Ethan actually doesn’t mind the silence, and he revels in the presence of the pretty intern beside him, her hand still warm in his.

“I should’ve booked you a spa treatment,” is how Naomi eventually breaks the silence. Ethan’s eyes snap up and he stares at her. “What?”

“I don’t think I’m a spa treatment kind of guy.”

“The sauna could be nice. Or a mud bath.”

“You’re such a comedian, Rookie.”

“I’m serious!” Naomi leans forward and presses her thumb between his eyebrows, gently massaging the crease. “I think a day at the spa would be good for you. Relatively speaking, you’re too young to be getting wrinkles.”

“What does that mean, relatively speaking?”

“You’re young in comparison to the average life span, but compared to me you’re…”

Ethan raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you trying to call me old?”

“It’s fine,” Naomi assures him. “Lucky for you, I like older guys.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Naomi realizes her grave mistake. She’s said too much, revealed her slip, and the double meaning of the sentence hangs in the air between them. Ethan’s eyes widen. His eyes fall on their still interlocked fingers before flitting back to her face, and that’s when Naomi notices that they’ve been holding hands. This entire time.

Ethan leans forward, until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Feeling bold, he takes one of her loose ringlets, curling it around his finger.

“Ethan, I–”

He stands so abruptly, Naomi almost falls over but she catches herself with her hands.

Ethan clears his throat, trying to center himself. What the hell was he thinking, nearly kissing his intern? How did he get so caught up that he almost crossed that line?”

Naomi stands up, wiping off the back of her shorts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Dr. Valentine.”

The name change feels like a physical strike. He hasn’t called her by her formal title the entire time they’ve been out here, but now she’s back to Dr. Valentine?

“Are you sure because I could’ve sworn that you were about to–”

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough of this beach excursion for the day, and I’m going to rest before we have to go to the party later on?”

A party? Where the fuck did that come from? “Ethan, slow down. A party? What party are you talking about?”

“Every year there’s a party hosted in conjunction with the party. It’s a black tie event, so please dress accordingly. See you later.”

His long legs carry him away before she can even reply, and he’s trudging back to the hotel, leaving Naomi more confused than she was ten minutes ago.

They were sharing a moment and Ethan was going to kiss her…right? This isn’t some fever dream, she didn’t just make that up, it is a fact. And just as fast as they were connecting, he put up a wall and shut her out.

She sits down again, ruminating over the situation and trying to wrap her head around it all.

After a while, annoyance forms in the pit of her stomach. Ethan doesn’t get to just play with her like a ping pong. And if she misread the situation, he should be big enough to tell her that to her face, not run off. And the more she thinks about it, the more she stews, and the annoyance turns into anger simmering under her skin. She stands, brimming with righteous indignation. He doesn’t get to walk away from her, and she’s going to tell him as such.

The trek back to the hotel only makes her angrier, because she only has time and opportunity to think, especially with the long elevator ride up to their suite. Once she makes it to the room and the door shuts behind her, she hears some shuffling around coming from the en-suite as well as running water.

“Ethan, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you need to explain whatever that was on the beach,” Naomi starts. She doesn’t get an immediate response from him. “The walls aren’t that freaking thick, I know you can hear me.” She inches closer to the door and notices that it’s been left slightly ajar. “And you left the door open, genius. Now I really know you can hear me.”

Maybe the walls really are that thick because she thinks she hears him talking, but it’s muffled. She almost lets it go until she hears a gruff, “Naomi!” come from the other side of the door.

So he can hear her. Good! Because she has a lot to say. She doesn’t give it a second thought, she charges towards the bathroom and forcefully pushes open the door.

What on earth was she thinking, barging into the bathroom like a bat out of hell?

The correct answer to that is she wasn’t thinking, fueled only by her need to argue with the infuriating man who left her on the beach like an idiot.

And now she’s standing in front of him and he’s stark naked.

The professional clothes and the white coat he wears at the hospital do an amazing job of keeping him contained, but here in this bathroom, Naomi realizes for the first time just how massive this man is. Tall isn’t enough of a description. His wide shoulders lead down to powerful arms, all corded muscle and tension. His chest, those defined pecs and a six-pack. Of course he’d be built like this underneath those clothes. Like a Greek fucking god. Of course.

That still isn’t what steals her breath straight from her body. It’s his hand, strong and powerful, wrapped around the base of his cock.

She should really say something. Apologize profusely. Beg to keep her spot in the competition, beg to keep her job at Edenbrook period. But she can’t. Any form of coherent or rational thought has been banished from her brain, and this soaking wet image of her boss is the only thing running through her mind.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates.

And if he’s still thinking about the moment they shared less than an hour ago, coupled with the fact that she heard him call out her name, it’s safe to assume that Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates to thoughts of her.

The realization makes her flame, and Naomi swears her body temperature has spiked to near feverish. And the fact that Ethan isn’t doing anything to right the situation—putting his hands in a more appropriate place, saying something, yelling at her to leave—only makes things more insane. He keeps his eyes fixed on her, his gaze so intense, she swears he can see her brain.

The angel on Naomi’s shoulder is screaming at her to stop gawking at him like some fish out of water, but she can’t. Now that she’s seen him, really seen him, she doesn’t know how she’ll ever go back to him being anything other than this, six feet, five inches, 200 pounds of pure unadultered sex.

The urge to touch him is so strong, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to do anything else until her hands are on him.

Swallowing whatever nerves are trying to creep up, Naomi takes a tentative step forward, and reaches for the glass door. The glass pane slides away so slowly, she almost wonders if it’s her subconscious giving her enough time to bolt before she makes even more of an ass of herself, but she ignores whatever annoying voice in her head is telling her to go.

“I’m not an idiot, Ethan. I’m not naive, and I’m not blind.” Naomi takes another step forward, the steam of the shower and a light spray of warm water hitting her face. Gingerly, her hand finds purchase on his chest, and they settle on his left pec.

His heart is beating so wildly, Naomi actually gasps at the erratic thumping beneath her fingertips. “Naomi–”

“I was so confused earlier,” Naomi confesses. “I thought you and I had been vibing these past few weeks, I thought you and I actually had something. And then we had our near first kiss earlier, but you pushed me away and ran off faster than a lightning strike, and I was hurt, and convinced that I completely misread the situation. So imagine my surprise when I walk in on this. You are horribly affected by me.”

“Naomi.” The way he says her name is so much rougher than it was previously, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Yup. So affected.

“It’s okay though, you don’t even have to say anything,” she continues. Taking Ethan’s free hand, she places it on her own chest so Ethan can feel her own erratic heartbeat. “Because trust me, I feel the exact same way.”

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to pull her in by the front of her t-shirt instead, what very little restraint he had over himself gone in this instant. The full blast of water comes as a shock, but Naomi can’t even react to it before Ethan slants his mouth over hers, pulling her into a bruising kiss.

The first thing she notices is just how rough his stubble is as it scrapes her mouth. The second thing is she probably would have fallen over due to how forcefully he pulled her into the shower, and she’s thankful his grip on her is as tight as it is.

Fireworks. A million fireworks going off at the same time. That’s what kissing Ethan feels like.

He sets the pace, but she kisses him back with just as much fervor. He kisses her like they have all the time in the world and none at all, passionate and intense, like he wants to devour her.

Her lungs protest against this endeavor, practically begging her to inhale something other than Ethan. But she doesn’t want to stop kissing him, even if it’s just for a second.

Thankfully Ethan makes the first move to separate them, breaking the kiss. His tongue licks along her neck and her head falls back in pleasure. So caught up in their kiss, it’s easy for Naomi to forget that she’s fully clothed, Ethan tugging at the fabric of her shirt quickly reminding her.

The water has the clothes clinging to her like a second skin, and Naomi giggles at the frustrated huffs Ethan lets out in his quest to undress her. The giggle turns into a full on squeal as she hears the telltale sound of a rip as her t-shirt ends up on the shower floor, followed by her shorts, and Naomi has to kick off her sandals to assist.

Once her clothes are in a sopping wet heap on the floor, Ethan regains control of the situation. Naomi’s back is pressed against the cold marble wall and Ethan’s mouth is on hers again, bruising and hard. It’s almost like he wants to punish her through his kisses.

“I have tried my absolute hardest to keep you at arms length,” is the first full sentence he’s said since Naomi entered the bathroom. “I compartmentalize my feelings for you, I am constantly reminding myself of our power dynamic. And you just keep inching your way closer at every single turn despite my best efforts.”

Naomi hums in reply. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to keep me away in the first place.”

He’s kept her away because he knew. Ethan knew Naomi would find a way to get under his skin, leaving him to feel open and raw like he just got scrubbed with sandpaper. Having her like this is a fantasy come true, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that once this line is crossed, he’ll never want to go back. He can be a selfish bastard sometimes.

“If we do this then–”

“I’m a big girl, Ethan,” Naomi assures him. One of her hands reaches in the tiny space between them, and she grips his erection. Ethan shudders and leans forward, crowding her space even more as she strokes him at a leisurely pace. “And we can talk about all of the messy stuff later, but right now, talking is the last thing on my mind.”

“Alright, Rookie. Enough talking.”

Her underwear is off before another word can be uttered.

Naomi isn’t sure what she was expecting, but he slides two fingers inside of her before she can think, and the sharp intrusion leaves her gasping. Ethan doesn’t treat her with kid gloves, the quite opposite actually. Whatever sound she’s going to make, he quickly swallows with a kiss.

Naomi is expressive. It’s one of the first things Ethan noticed about her. She’s going to be seen and heard at all times, and that extends to the bedroom. And since he has effectively cut her off with a kiss, Naomi sinks her nails into him, one set on his shoulder, the others raking through his hair, urging him to continue his ministrations. Good.

He breaks the kiss, leaving a trail of tiny kisses and bites along her jaw, neck, and collarbone, paying special attention to her nipples, lavishing them with his tongue. He drops to his knees in front of her, urging her to lean backwards against the wall behind them and Naomi does so without an ounce of hesitation.

The one hand not currently playing her like a fiddle runs along the smooth expanse of her curves, tracing every dimple and mark he can find. He does this until his eyes fall on the tiny tattoo marking her skin, resting on her hip. “I never took you as a tattoo kind of girl.”

“I have a few secrets left to tell, Ramsey.”

“Why on your hip?”

“My parents would’ve killed me if I got it somewhere visible,” Naomi explains breathlessly as Ethan continues to stroke her, slowly coaxing her towards an orgasm.

Ethan places a kiss on her left hip, right below the tattoo as if it’s to be revered before sucking a mark on it. Something to remember him by.

“Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“Eyes on me,” Ethan commands her. It’s a tough task because the steam and the water have made it difficult to see and she would enjoy nothing more than to close her eyes and fully revel in what he’s doing to her, but they manage to lock eyes. “Good girl.”

The first swipe of his tongue against her makes her legs buckle, but thankfully Ethan keeps her upright.

His fingers curl inside of her, and Naomi swears her vision goes blurry for a second, but not once do her eyes waver from his. Ocean blue irises hold her gaze, and she feels like they’re burning her from the inside out. Everything is hot, too hot, but at the same time she feels like she might go insane without it.

The strokes are slow and languid. In, out, curl, twist, keeping pace with the way his tongue laves against her clit. Soon her breathless whimpers become more ragged, more labored and she grabs a handful of Ethan’s hair, tugging it so hard, she’d worry about actually pulling it out if she cared about anything other than finding the edge of the cliff he’s so close to pushing her off. Ethan can tell she’s close. The incessant tugging at his scalp, the increasingly louder moans, and the way her hand slaps against the wet tile.

She knows it’s coming, but her orgasm takes her by surprise, pleasure seizing her at the base of her spine. Her legs tense up and her entire body falls forward, taking Ethan with her. He cushions her fall, and they both land with a hard thud.

Naomi giggles again. And soon that giggle becomes a full on laugh, so uncontrollable that Ethan wonders if she’s snapped.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never…fallen over during sex before,” saying that out loud makes her laugh again.

“And is this a good thing?”

Naomi leans forward and kisses Ethan, smiling through it. “We’ll you’re the first guy to ever make my legs give out in the middle of an orgasm so…yes. I’d say it’s a very good thing.”

Well that is a healthy ego boost, Ethan thinks to himself. “Good to know.”

When blood circulation has returned to her legs, Naomi stands up, pulling Ethan along with her. She deposits him on the spacious bench built in along the back wall of the shower and he falls onto the seat with a hard thud.

He watches through hooded lids as Naomi straddles him, undulating against him in a way that makes him want to take control and bury himself to the hilt inside her.

“Question for you, Ethan Ramsey,” Naomi starts.

“Answer for you, Naomi Valentine.”

“When I walked in here, were you thinking about me? Was I the subject in your dirty little fantasy?”

“Always,” Ethan is shocked by how breathless the answer comes out, but at this point, pride and ego aren’t needed. Not when they’re like this. “Since day one, I have been consumed with nothing but thoughts of you.”

“Mhmm, what was I doing in this particular fantasy?” Naomi asks. She takes him into her hands, and at a tortuous pace, rubs the swollen tip of his erection against her clit, drawing out a moan from the older man.

His memory fails him. Nothing he conjures up in his head will ever be comparable to the sight of a naked Naomi in his lap. She’s so beautiful, water droplets clinging to her skin, lips kiss swollen, loose strands of hair clinging to the sides of her face, her round cheeks flushed.

He doesn’t remember what the fantasy entailed, he just knew this woman’s presence was so overwhelming, if he didn’t expel some of the tension, he wouldn’t survive going to a black tie event with her.

“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Ethan says honestly. “The real you is so much better.”

“I think I like that answer.”

Ethan lifts her by the hips and in one smooth thrust, he’s fully sheathed inside of her. He notices that way Naomi’s eyes are fixed on where they’re joined, glazed over by pleasure and he’s never seen something so erotic.

She starts to move, slowly at first because she’s still way too sensitive from her last orgasm to do anything else. But the slow pace she sets does nothing to ease her, it only makes things worse. Every slow glide, every brush of his pelvis against her is magnified tenfold, and the heat she felt earlier has turned into a bull blown inferno, consuming every inch of her. But now, the only way out is through, and she’s trapped in a delicious purgatory until the next wave hits. It only intensifies when Ethan’s mouth closes around one of her nipples, sucking fiercely. “Oh, fuck.”

He releases the bud with a soft ‘pop’, pulling a soft groan from her lips. Her head falls back, but Ethan catches a fistful of her hair and drags her back, forcing her to make eye contact. “Eyes on me, Rookie. I want to see your face.”

The tiny pinpricks of pain at her scalp give way to pleasure as his grip on her tightens. “Harder.”

Ethan smirks and wordlessly obeys the order, pulling Naomi’s hair even harder as she moans. Huh. He’s going to tuck this information away for a later date and time.

The hand not holding her hair goes back to her hip and he squeezes tightly before guiding her up and down. And that’s when the pressure starts building again, up, and up, and up, until the only sounds that can be heard are the obscene slaps of their wet skin and her broken whimpers. His hand leaves her hip, not having to move far before his thumb is on her clit, working it in soft circles.

Naomi comes so hard, her teeth chatter and she’s almost afraid of cracking them. Unable to keep up the eye contact, she leans forward, resting her forehead against his. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he rocks into her, trying to chase his own release.

“Naomi, I…fucking I’m going to–”

She nods, understanding exactly what he’s trying to say. She bites down on his earlobe, tugging. “Inside me.” Then she kisses the patch of skin right below his ear and grinds against him once more. “Or on the tattoo.”

Holy fuck. That alone sets him off like a bottle rocket. He bites down on her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

His heart beats so wildly, he doesn’t know if it will ever return to its normal resting state. With his arms wrapped around her like this, he wonders if this is their new normal. How that he’s been with her like this, how on earth will she go back to being his subordinate. Everything about her feels like euphoria, her taste, her touch, her scent is embedded in him, so deep in his skin, she might as well be woven into his DNA. But the thing about it is, he’s not sure he wants it to.

On top of being a selfish bastard at times, he is wildly possessive.

It takes a long time for them to separate , neither one of them wanting to move or disrupt the peaceful little bubble they’ve created within the confines of this shower.

Eventually Ethan pulls Naomi off of him, but his grip on her remains steady. He stands as well and reaches behind him, grabbing the bottle of shower gel he has on the shelf. It isn’t until the clean scent of citrus and sea salt hits her nose does Naomi realize he’s using his shower gel. A chill sweeps through her. Sure they just had sex–great sex even–but sharing this man’s shower gel is a subtle intimacy that she wasn’t prepared for, and her chest goes tight.

“I smell like you,” Naomi murmurs sleepily.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not, you always smell good. I do draw the line at sharing shampoo. Whatever shit you use might destroy my hair.”

Ethan snorts. “I saw the amount of hair goop you stuffed into your suitcase. Trust me, I won’t get in the way of that routine.”

Once they’re both sufficiently lathered, they duck under the water to rinse off, and they finally step out of the shower. The entire room is full of steam, and Naomi almost feels bad that they wasted so much hot water. God, her skin is going to be so dry if she doesn’t moisturize soon.

Ethan wraps her in a large white terry cloth bathrobe before wrapping a towel around his waist.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t give me any sort of notice about this party,” Naomi huffs. Ethan rolls his eyes and takes a step forward, his hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until her back is firmly against his chest.

“It’s in a few hours, how much more notice do you need?”

“What if I didn’t pack an appropriate dress?” Naomi implores hypothetically. “Or shoes?”

He shrugs. “I have a credit card, and this hotel has a boutique.”

“Well lucky for you, and your wallet, I packed a few dresses,” Naomi says. Her mother taught her to be prepared for any situation, including the spur of the moment black tie event. “I’ll pull together something decent.”

“You’re beautiful, you always look more than decent.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere with me, Ramsey.”

Using the palm of her hand, Naomi wipes some of the steam off of the mirror in front of them and takes a good look in the mirror. She looks thoroughly debauched. It’s going to take a miracle to pull herself together with just a few hours’ notice.

She also notices the dark mark blooming on her right shoulder, outlined by teeth marks. Ethan’s bite is only going to get darker and more prominent as time ticks on.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover up this mark you gave me though.”

Ethan slides the robe off of her shoulder to examine the bite mark. He runs his thumb along it soothingly before planting a kiss on the spot. “I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

Instead of replying immediately, Ethan bends down slightly and scoops up Naomi, bridal style. “How about I give you a matching one on the left shoulder?”

~v~

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#ns*fw #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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