#a few mistakes that aren’t obvious

[yarnoverhook]

[La Résilience] Cowl

[luveline]

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides. 

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out. 

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?” 

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?” 

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.” 

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.” 

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.” 

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?” 

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function. 

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger. 

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes. 

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.” 

“Come in, please.” 

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual. 

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?” 

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.” 

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.” 

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.” 

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.” 

“It’s about that.” 

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.” 

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.” 

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?” 

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.” 

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? 

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you. 

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson. 

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask. 

“Months ago.” 

“And Sandy said yes.” 

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.” 

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid. 

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest. 

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.” 

“I need to go and tell Spencer.” 

“Spencer, your good friend.” 

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.” 

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for. 

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.” 

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says. 

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud. 

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder. 

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek. 

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” 

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.” 

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says. 

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds. 

[muniimyg]

6: the madness // series m.list

note: say u missed me or else i’ll cry 🫵

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

Timing.

You’ve never really understood it. Not to mention the whole invisible string theory and how implausible it seems… How is it that you can coexist with the love of your life for years and not be with them until the time is right?

Isn’t that strange?

Love is all-consuming, inevitable, and perfect, but its greatest weakness is a mere concept: time.

Speaking of time, you’re early.

As you enter the restaurant and greet your friends, you can’t help but check your phone every other minute. Waiting for a text from him, checking the time, and wondering when he’ll arrive… It feels exhausting to be in this state of longing.

How is it that you’ve been friends with him for so long and now you need him more than ever?

To hold you and tell you everything is alright.

To smile at you like you’re his favorite person in the entire world.

To just be with him.

Even if today wasn’t life or death, you felt so helpless. It felt like everything was against you.

Yes, it was just about a stupid presentation (that barely scratches the surface of your future), but it was still a tough thing to get through alone. It was unexpected and filled with minor mistakes, making it feel like a complete defeat.

So much happened.

First, you slept through your alarm.

Though you made it right on time, you didn’t have the extra moments to prepare and run through your presentation like you had originally planned.

Then, since there was no time for prep, you encountered technical difficulties. Your notes were missing for some reason…

And your stuttering!

God, you never stuttered so much in your life.

It was truly an off morning.

… And it doesn’t end there.

Nope!

As you texted Jungkook and updated him, you remembered that you had a rescheduled quiz to take… You know, the one that you completely forgot to review last night because your head was all over this stupid presentation.

The quiz went fine but it could’ve been better.

You know you could’ve done better.

That’s probably what annoys you the most. Everything that occurred today wasn’t up to your standard performance level. Humanizing it is difficult because the truth is simple…

Some days just aren’t good.

Some days you just have to take the L.

Some days you just need to breathe through.

And that’s okay.

Because after all the bad, losing, and catching-your-breath moments—there’s him.

The very thought of him eases you. Talking to him makes you feel like you’re bigger than the bad and the losing. Being with him is as easy as breathing.

“Hey ___,” an unfamiliar voice disrupts your thoughts. You turn your head to see who it is. Beside you, a tall man with a broad build offers you a smile. He has short hair and dimples. Even with just his appearance, he’s charming (you can’t deny that).

Politely, you return it but it’s obvious you’re confused.

“… I’m so sorry,” you feel slightly embarrassed to not remember his name. “You are?”

“Mingyu,” he introduces himself, stepping closer and offering his hand. You take it, shaking it slowly and unsure.

He tries again.

“I’m Jungkook’s friend,” Mingyu explains. “You’re Jungkook’s… Uh?”

“O-oh!” you avoid the question and redirect the conversation. “Are you in his friend group with Jaehyun and them?”

He scoffs. “By ‘them’ you mean those guys?”

Mingyu points to a group of tall guys hovering over the menu display. You count them and can’t help but laugh.

Then, you notice one.

“Is that DK? I think Jungkook introduced me to him when we were walking home a few weeks ago!” From where you are, you wave at DK. DK sees you from the corner of his eye and sends you a smile. He gestures for you to come over. For the second time, you smile politely and feel stuck.

What now?

“What’s Jungkook doing introducing you to DK and not me?” Mingyu chuckles, attempting to lighten the mood.

You purse your lips. “Ohh.. I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You’re cheeky,” you observe. “Yup… You’re definitely friends with Jungkook.”

Mingyu puts his hands up in surrender and then on your shoulders. “Guilty as charged.”

You laugh.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft and attractive—especially when you throw your head slightly back. Intrigued, he invites you to sit with them.

“You know the others, right? Hobi and them?”

“Yeah!” you answer him happily. “Hobi and I are actually pretty close—“

Mingyu’s puppy eyes light up with excitement. “Oh, shit really? So you don’t need to get to know them or anything?”

You blink at him.

“I guess?”

“Great!” Mingyu beams. “Good. Cool... Sit with me! I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

You know it’s all friendly nature.

Mingyu is known for being like this.

Goofy, a little deceptive, but a good guy overall. You have nothing to fear! Especially when he’s friends with Jungkook, right? He wouldn’t think of trying to flirt with you… Right?

What are you to Jungkook again?

Before you know it, Mingyu’s hands find yours. As he laces your fingers together, you feel your chest tighten.

This feels weird.

It feels like betrayal even though you know it’s not. Isn’t it ridiculous to be thinking this way?

You run excuses and options in your head.

Do you pull away and laugh it off? Do you just let him hold your hand and lead you to sit with him and the others? You aren’t sure… But the one thing that is clear is the look of annoyance on Jungkook’s face as he steps into the restaurant and his eyes land on your hands.

“Jungkook!”

As cinematic as it can be, that’s what it is. You shake Mingyu’s grasp off and rush to Jungkook. He’s completely taken aback, stumbling as you crash into him. A small laugh escapes his lips, as he finds your tiny charge at him to be the cutest thing you’ve done thus far. He barely walked in and you’re already in his arms.

Heaven, he thinks to himself.

As he wraps his arms around you, he kisses the top of your head. “Wow, look at you. Are you sure you’re my girl? Not shy anymore? Not avoiding me? I’m so proud of you, mi.”

He smells like him. Like his laundry detergent and his skin after his workout—a little sweaty but so addictive.

Is that weird?

Most importantly… Who cares?

He’s here.

You can breathe him in. You can breathe again.

You groan in embarrassment. Pulling away, you keep yourself close enough to rest your chin on his chest. He lowers his gaze at you, eyes softening as his lips curve into a pout.

“Bad day?”

“Better now,” you hum, hugging him tighter. He laughs and gently tickles your sides. Your laughter increases, causing you to let go of him. He takes your bag from your hands and swings it over his shoulder. His fingers brush against yours as you two walk to join your friends who go ahead and get seated.

“Hey, am I crazy or was Mingyu holding your hand—”

“___!” Mingyu calls for you.

You and Jungkook turn your heads and see him patting a place for you. Without a second thought, Jungkook lifts his hand to wave and you hold onto him tighter. Exchanging looks, he then proceeds to guide you towards his circle of friends and away from the ones you’re familiar with. Passing by Hobi, you give him a look.

A ‘help-me-get-out-of-this,’ look.

Hobi sticks his tongue out at you and mouths, “you’ll be fine, bitch.”

By the time you gather your thoughts, Jungkook has already introduced you to his other group of friends. You completely blank out as they respond and introduce themselves. It’s only for a few seconds and you already had an idea of who they all are anyway.

The campus calls them the 97 liners.

They’re known for being…

Boys.

Decent ones at that, but they’re definitely energetic. Amusing almost all the time, competitive and intimidating when they need to be. Through rumors and observations you’ve made from afar, it made sense to you where Jungkook gets his playfulness from.

He’s…

A lot like them.

He’s definitely himself. It’s interesting.

Mingyu scoots over, making enough room for you and Jungkook. He dabs Jungkook up, greeting him as warmly as he greeted you. The others continue their conversations, asking for your input every so often. You quickly realize how charismatic everyone is, and to be completely honest, it overwhelms you.

But with Jungkook beside you, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. He squeezes your hand under the table every so often when he notices your gaze wander. It’s like he’s gravity to you.

“Okay, so we already ordered… But we can order again if there’s something specific ___ wants,” Mingyu says, rather bubbly. He clears his throat, reaches over the table, grabs the menu and offers it to you.

“Yah, yah, yah,” Jungkook sends a glare to Mingyu, yanking the menu from him. You turn to look at him and find that he doesn't look amused. His eyes are fixed at his friend. With an intimidating tone, he warns; “Mingyu, stop flexing.”

Mingyu shakes his head, not taking it seriously. Jungkook and him have always had a playful friendship anyways. “I don't know what you're talking about... I’m not flexing. ___, feel it! I swear I’m not flexing right now.”

Jungkook tightens his grip on your hands.

Taking a sip of your water, you take your time to swallow and gather your thoughts.

“Don’t you gym with Jungkook?”

Dumb question.

“I gym more than him,” Mingyu corrects you.

Wow.

Stupid answer.

You can't help it. A laugh escapes your lips. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

Jungkook lets out a hearty chuckle, liking the way you answer. He feels proud of you. He feels like he definitely chose the right girl.

Mingyu smirks, leaning back.

He thinks this is fun.

It is fun.

“Ehhh.. I mean, if you ever let me take you on a date, I’ll show you what it means to be impressed.”

Jungkook’s smile drops.

Yours does too.

You shift closer to Jungkook and avoid Mingyu's eyes.

“H-honestly, I’m not feeling picky tonight. I’m sure whatever you guys ordered will be delicious.”

The rest of the conversation is easygoing as everyone patiently waits for the food to arrive. Mingyu’s attention turns back to his friends, as he takes the hint from your avoidant eyes. To him, it was unserious.

Hopefully, it’s also whatever to you.

As the food arrives and is set on the table, Jungkook exchanges a few side comments and whispers context into your ear. You giggle and feel your heart race when he places his hand on your thigh.

“Jungkook…”

“Hm?”

“Your hand,” you warn.

“What about my hand?”

“It’s on my thigh.”

“I know,” he snickers. “Wish it was somewhere else.”

You gasp and can’t resist hitting his chest. He takes the hit like a man. He knows he deserves it.

On the table is a plate of shrimp. You pick one up with your chopsticks and begin to peel it. As Jungkook eats, you place the freshly peeled shrimp on top of his rice. He smiles at you brightly, his heart close to combusting.

“You didn’t have to—”

Jungkook’s words are cut off as you hear Mingyu whine, “Awh, no fair! Peel me one too, please!”

You nod and answer his request. Taking another shrimp and beginning to peel it, you then finish quickly and place it on top of his rice too.

Mingyu eats it happily.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s chest tightens. Again, it’s such a minor thing to happen… Yet, it irks him so much. He’s no boy, though. This isn’t a perilla leaf tantrum—no, he was much too mature for that.

This was… Clarity.

In between bites, Mingyu brings up a fascinating topic.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” he blurts. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed he was looking at you a certain way. What was it? Was it too revealing of his feelings?

Wait… What even is he feeling?

There’s a sense of jealousy and frustration wrapped around the core of it all; his liking of you.

“I’m not looking at her in any way,” Jungkook responds, taking a sip of water. You continue to chew and look away.

“You totally are,” Mingyu laughs. “Hey, is it because you used to like her?”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Where did you hear that?”

“Ohh.. So it’s not true, then?”

“Nah,” Jungkook scoffs. “I just don’t get why it’s a rumor and why it’s in the past tense. It’s true… I like her. She knows it too—wait, you fuck… Do you even read the group chat? I talk about her all the fucking time.”

Mingyu’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!” he gasps, piecing everything together. “Shit, right. I remember now. God, why’d that take me so long to connect? Of course! This is ___. The ___! Ice skating bullshit, right? Pocky kiss or whatever?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to Jungkook. “You told them?”

Jungkook smiles innocently.

“I have the best kiss of my life and you expect me not to tell my boys?”

He has you there.

Mingyu laughs, murmuring about how down bad Jungkook is. When you feel your cheeks heat up, you quickly bury your face into your hands. You feel so embarrassed… But at the same time flattered.

It’s awful.

To make matters worse, the butterflies keep fluttering as Jungkook tilts his head and smirks at you. He finds your shyness the most precious thing in this entire world. The mere fact that he makes you feel and act like this?

Oh, it’s remarkable.

Jungkook can't help but compare your behavior from earlier to now. How you took initiative and ran into his arms as if they were your safe haven—and now there's this.

You like this, right now.

So utterly his without him much being done or said. It's an understanding. It's simply how it is.

He chuckles, as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you into a tight hug.

“Ahh... You totally folded."

With his words, your eyes widen. You push him away and roll your eyes at him. He teases you, mocking the way you cling onto his body.

You huff but let him hold onto you. From here on out, you two keep it casual and continue your conversations with everyone. He piles food onto your plate and in exchange you bring the food to his mouth.

Jungkook eats happily.

When the dinner is over, everyone goes their separate ways. 

Jungkook’s friends all hug you goodbye (Mingyu takes his sweet time) and leave him to walk you home. Hand in hand, you two wave goodbye and earn a few winks from Hobi. To that, you roll your eyes and brush it off. 

The walk with Jungkook is nice. 

The conversation between you two is so natural and good. You talk about the presentation mess up in more detail and he listens well. He empathizes with your feelings and understands. He’s so easy to talk to. He gets you. He makes you laugh even when what he’s saying isn’t funny. 

Is this how it’s like when you have feelings for someone? 

How embarrassing. 

When you two reach your front door, he looks at you longingly. 

“Feel better?” he asks you. You notice how gentle is tone is. How thoughtful.

“… About everything? The presentation and shit… Bebu, at the end of the day you did what you could. The grade your received is literally still an A—w-what”

Jungkook is startled. 

You grasp the fabric of his hoodie and pull him close. Without a second thought, you take a step closer to him and lean in. With urgency, you kiss him. 

Deep. 

Needy. 

Lovingly. 

His eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss with your tongue. He gives you way, parting his mouth open for you to explore and do as you please. As he kisses you back with the same kind of energy, you smile into the kiss. 

When you pull away, Jungkook is in disbelief. 

“... Now what?”

You clear your throat, feeling your lips tingling from the kiss. 

“S-sorry,” you gulp. “I d-don’t know what came over me… I just—”

“Why are you apologizing?” he blinks at you slowly. “I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked, now what?”

You tighten your lips. 

“Now? I… I just need some air.” 

Jungkook nods his head, eyebrows furrowed together. He understands you. 

Before you can open your mouth to defend or redirect, he beats you to it. 

“Yeah? Me too.”

Before you know it, he kisses you. 

Jungkook kisses you like a silent plea. Even though he has already confessed; this felt like another. 

The way he kisses you feels like a new language. He knows just when you kiss you more and when you to be delicate. He cups your jaw with the palm of his hand, tilting your head so he can kiss you better.

Which is so fucking weird… But it happens like never before.

He kisses you better.

Breaking away from the kiss, you two catch your breaths. As you do so, you clear your throat.

“Wanna come inside?” you ask, taking his hand.

He smirks, unable to stop himself. 

“Sure… But I’m gonna need some clarification on that offer… Come inside where?”

In your dimly lit kitchen, you two make yourselves a cup of tea.

Jungkook multitasks by making passes—saying that the water is still cold since you’re hotter than it. He sneaks in a few kisses on your cheeks as you tell him he’s being stupid. You two laugh as he lifts you up to sit on your kitchen island. He makes himself comfortable in between your legs.

There, you caress his hair.

He is so handsome. You love the way his nose just fits his face… How round his eyes are and even the scar on his cheek. It’s so precious.

He’s perfect, you think to yourself.

As you get lost in your thoughts, Jungkook feels so much comfort and freedom with your touch. It feels like rest. For a moment, he shuts his eyes and takes in how much he loves your touch.

Breaking the silence, you tug on his hair. “You need a haircut.”

He shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“Literally got one two weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” you realize he’s right. He did cut his hair two weeks ago. He came over that night just to show it off. “... But I liked Mingyu’s hair! It was so short. I feel like it would suit you too.”

He opens one eye and gives you a weird look.

You mimic it.

“What?”

Jungkook lifts his face.

“So… Was it just me but I definitely caught Mingyu trying to shoot his shot with you, right?” He snickers, tilting his head as he recalls what he saw. "He literally asked you out."

You shrug, explaining Mingyu's attempt to hold your hand as a friendly gesture. "He’s just friendly, right? He also tried to hold my hand to lead me to the table and that was kinda… Unexpected? But he’s like that, right? He’s just friendly. Like a puppy! Golden retriever energy.”

"Maybe," Jungkook responds, his tone betraying a hint of uncertainty. "Y-yeah. I mean, the shrimp thing was worse."

You laugh softly. "What? This is about the shrimp thing? I peeled it for you too… And it’s not like I peeled his because I wanted to. He asked. It was lighthearted."

"I know that," he reassures you, his tone softening. "I’m not that insecure to pick a fight over peeling shrimp. You don’t have to convince me it was nothing. I know it was nothing.”

Confusion flashes across your face at his mixed signals. "Are you upset?"

"Maybe," he admits quietly.

Then he hesitates.

“Actually, I think I’m frustrated. I’m not mad. Sorry if I sounded aggressive—"

"N-no, it’s fine," you reassure him, gently cutting him off. "Why are you frustrated, bebu?"

Jungkook offers you a weak smile. "I don’t get it…"

"Get what?"

"All this shit and we’re still not together.”

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion.

Taken aback, you ask him, “what’s that supposed to mean?"

Gesturing between the two of you, Jungkook expresses his confusion. "This… I mean, what is this? We’re together, aren’t we?"

"Jungkook—"

"I’m just… I don’t get it. Even if you thought he was just being friendly, why didn’t you just say you were my girlfriend? Mingyu would’ve stopped flirting with you."

"So it’s my fault?" you huff, feeling offended at the pitch of this idea. "I thought your friends knew—"

"Well… Yes. I talk about you, and it’s not like I’m ditching parties to study in that stupid library—"

"Can you leave the library out of this?"

"Okay," he sighs, relenting. "Sorry… I just… They know how I feel about you. I guess they don’t know how you feel about me, and… I mean, did you tell him we were together or not? Because if I had to remind him who you were to me, I don’t think you told him that we—"

"Jungkook—"

"No, I’m being serious," he interrupts, his tone becoming more stern. "Why didn’t you just—"

"You never asked me out!" you interject, frustration evident in your voice.

Jungkook stares at you blankly, prompting you to continue. He runs everything back in his mind.

You were right.

With all these moments, he’s been so busy planning how to get reactions out of you and completely missed out on so many perfect opportunities.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend. All you’ve been doing this entire time is trying to get me to flirt with you, kiss you, or trick me into dates… You want me to act like your girlfriend? Ask me to be. I’m not built for situationships… And honestly? I’ve been waiting—patiently and elegantly at that. There were so many times where I wanted to hold your hand and give in. You talk about how you’ll get me to fold or whatever—fine.”

You take a breath, caving in. “This is it. I’ve folded! God, do you even know how hard it is to study next to you in that stupid library because y-you… You give me butterflies.”

Jungkook reaches for you. You let him touch you but your heart stays still, fighting to get these feelings out. Your voice wavers with emotion.

“A-and it’s so… I don’t know how you do it. At some point, I set them free. Like, fine, okay! Fly high, my butterflies… But for what?"

There’s a sense of urgency that awakens in you. Never in your life have you ever felt the same way for anyone.

It feels like defeat and victory all at once.

It feels like peace and war all at once.

It feels like love.

Oh, the madness.

To love someone this wide and deep… To love someone at all. It is everything beyond you. How it radiates through your body and onto his lips… How everything unfolds and reveals him no matter what.

You can’t decide if the way you’ve fallen is utterly heartbreaking or romantic. Maybe it’s both.

Let’s say it’s both.

All you know is that with glossy eyes and a fragmented understanding of timing, you tell him;

“Jungkook, I set my butterflies free, and they flew to you."

[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours

summary: you and gojo have been separated for six months due to his troubles. you try to juggle co-parenting your young son and moving on, but gojo makes it obvious he’s not ready to give you up on your relationship yet

warning: just angst

word count: 2.3k

the separation of you and gojo was hard. you had devoted so much of your life, time and energy to him only to feel like you weren’t a priority. it was a terrible feeling you could push past during the first few years together, but after your wedding and the birth of your son, you started to realize how unfair it was. 

gojo’s job kept him away from home a lot, leaving you to take care of your son, haru. when he did manage to get some time off- things just didn’t feel the same as they once were. he always seemed distracted. 

he still loved you, of course. you were the only woman in his life he had ever truly been in love with. that will never change. and he didn’t realize how much he was slacking until you served him divorce papers one night- looking so defeated. it caught him off guard, and he was surprised that you had taken such a step. 

you were steadfast as gojo tried to convince you out of your decision. and when you didn’t budge he realized how many mistakes he’d made leading up to this moment. he couldn’t blame you, but he also couldn’t force you to take him back. 

he didn’t sign the papers. there’s no way in hell he’d do that. delusional or not, he’d convinced himself you’d be together again and going through the motions of a divorce would just complicate everything. he did reach a compromise with you, though. he was forced to accept the reality that he had lost you as his wife. gojo had enough money to take care of both you and haru so you could focus on raising him without having to work. per your request to live separately, gojo moved into an apartment on the other side of town. 

and when gojo put the last of his belongings in the moving truck haru ran up to him, sobbing as his small body clutched at gojo’s legs. 

“don’t go daddy” haru cried against him. it broke gojo’s heart. not only was he losing you as his wife, but his actions had torn his family apart. haru, the light of his life, was forced to be in the middle of his parent’s separation. it wasn’t fair to him and the guilt ate at gojo everyday.

your son loved his father, and if there was one thing gojo prioritized- it was haru. 

you had to turn away as tears slipped down your cheeks. it was almost too much for you to handle. you tried to stick through your marriage for haru’s sake, but you couldn’t keep up the act anymore. and although you were the one pushing him away, it hurt so much to see satoru leave. but it was the best decision for you, both mentally and emotionally. 

he had moved out six months ago now and still, the house felt all too empty.

—

the sound of Haru’s footsteps echo as he moves from room to room, looking for something to occupy his mind. he's become used to his dad not always being around, but he’s just a boy and he still needs his father in his life. gojo is still present, though only on the weekends when he has most of his free time. you would never completely take either of them away from each other. 

you sit on the couch, staring blankly at the screen in front of you- not sure what you had been watching as you aren’t paying attention. haru had been quiet tonight, spending most of his time drawing or playing alone. he’s almost four, now. he’s bright and everything you need. 

you smile as haru walks into the living room, clutching his favorite stuffed animal and rubbing his eyes. 

“mommy,” he yawns softly, “can i call daddy?”.

even after all these months the question is like a knife to your heart. you’ve tried to protect him from the worst of the separation, but the longing in his eyes is something you can’t ignore. you nod, forcing a smile. “of course, baby”. 

the phone rings a few times before gojo answers. his voice always has a warmth to it that makes you melt every time. 

“hey,” he greets. “is it bedtime?”. haru would talk to his dad every night before bed, a ritual that he tries his hardest not to break, even if he is busy with work. 

“yeah, he wants to speak to you”, you say.

haru’s small hands eagerly hold the phone to his ear, his face lights up at the sound of his father’s voice. “daddy! it’s me!”, he says excitedly. your heart melts at how much he loves his father.

gojo’s tone immediately softens. “hi, sweet boy. how’s my little guy doing?” he coos. gojo cherishes every moment he has with haru. it means so much to him to talk to him every night and make sure he’s okay, even if he isn’t around anymore. 

haru babbles about his day and gojo eagerly listens. he loves it when his son gets excited. 

haru clutches the phone tightly after he finishes, suddenly becoming upset. his small voice trembles slightly at his next sentence. “i miss you, daddy. when are you coming home?”. 

the silence on the other end of the line is heavy. gojo’s breathing is a mixture of sadness and regret. he wishes he could be there with the both of you. 

“i miss you too”. he’s not sure how to answer the little boy’s question. it all depends on you and if you are willing to sort through your issues together or not. he hopes you will decide to, but your relationship hasn’t improved much since he moved out. he’s not even sure if you still wear your ring. 

you can see haru’s eyes welling up with tears as he tries to hold back his emotions. 

“why can’t you come home? i want you here with us.”. he didn’t understand why his father had left in the first place. he’s too young to understand the concept of separation, even though you and gojo have explained it to him before. in his mind, if you both love each other then you should all be living together as one. he can’t grasp that even if you love someone so much, sometimes you have to let them go. 

gojo clears his throat. “i know, precious. things are complicated right now, but i promise i’m working on it”. whether he’s successful or not, gojo intends to try to mend things with you in any way he can.

“i’m coming to pick you up tomorrow and we can spend the whole weekend together. how does that sound?”. he tries to cheer haru up. 

the boy sniffles and wipes his eyes. “okay, daddy. i love you”. 

“i love you too, haru,” gojo says softly. “more than anything”. 

after a few more exchanged words and assurances, haru hands the phone back to you before climbing in your lap. you rub his back comfortingly as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“you still there?”, gojo asks. without needing to mask his tone for his son, you can hear just how defeated he sounds. 

you confirm you’re still on the line. the conversation is short- you and gojo discussing when to meet at the park tomorrow for him to pick up haru. in the last few months you’ve stopped having personal conversations with him- just trying to focus on co-parenting. it was easier for you that way.

you look down at your son and brush his hair from his face. he’s a spitting image of his father- same ghostly white locks and stunning eyes that held all the potential of the world within them. every time you looked at him, it was like seeing a smaller, more innocent version of satoru. and that made it harder to move on.

“daddy loves you very much. we’ll see him soon, okay?”, you assure him with a kiss on the head. 

haru nods against your shoulder, his small frame cuddled up to you. “okay, mommy”.

you hold him tightly, wishing you can offer more than just words of comfort. the house is still big and empty, but you try to fill it with all the love and reassurance you could muster. for haru’s sake, you hope that someday soon, this will all be behind you.

—

haru’s laughter rings out as he chases a butterfly through the empty park, the pure sound filling the air with a sweetness that tugs at your heart. you watch him, torn between the joy of his innocence and the ache of the life you once dreamed of with satoru. the butterfly flutters just out of haru's reach, and he giggles, his happiness a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

the crunch of footsteps on gravel snaps you out of your thoughts, and though you don’t look up, you know who it is. satoru’s presence is unmistakable, a force that commands attention even without a word. he slides onto the bench beside you, close enough that his warmth seeps into your skin without touching you. he watches haru play for a moment before turning his attention to you. 

“i missed you”. his voice is sweet like honey, the words slipping out effortlessly. it’s that natural charm, the way he makes even the simplest phrases sound enchanting, that drew you to him in the first place. 

you turn to face him, finally meeting his gaze. those damn blue eyes–deep and endless like the ocean—have always been your weakness, pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. they hold a mix of emotions, swirling with the memories of a past you can’t quite let go of. his eyes search yours, and for a moment, it feels like time stops, as if the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

“what we had was a life full of complications,” you respond, not allowing yourself to get pulled into his trap. “you’re still in that world, satoru. and i can’t be a part of it anymore. haru can’t be a part of it”. 

his jaw tightens as a flicker of determination flashes in his eyes. “just because you’re pushing me away doesn’t mean i’m gonna give up”, his voice is low, laced with a quiet resolve.  “i haven’t given up on us”. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick with emotion, as if he’s daring you to believe him, to see the fight still left in him.

your heart aches at his words. you want to believe him, to let yourself fall back into the warmth of his promises. there is still so much love in your heart for satoru, but love alone isn’t enough to mend the things that had broken you apart. the dangers he faced daily, the secrets he kept hidden away, the growing distance that had slowly stretched between you until it became an uncrossable chasm—it had all become too much. the memories of what you once had clash with the reality of what you've lost, leaving you torn between the past and the painful truth of the present.

“don’t make this harder than it already is.” you plead, feeling your resolve weaken. he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. 

i’m not ready to let you go,” he admits, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “i don’t know if i’ll ever be.”

the confession hangs between you, heavy and unresolved. it would be so easy to slip back into old habits, to let him back in and pretend that everything could be okay again. but you deserve more than that. and deep down, you know the truth. satoru isn’t ready to change, and you aren’t ready to keep living in a world where he could be taken away at any moment. the weight of his unfulfilled promises and the uncertainty of your future press down on you, a reminder of the painful reality you can’t escape.

“haru needs stability,” you say softly, pulling your hand away. “he needs a life that doesn’t revolve around waiting for his father to come home in one piece”. gojo doesn’t miss a beat

“and what about you?” satoru asks, his voice laced with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “what do you need?”

for a moment, silence envelops you both, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air, unspoken yet profoundly understood. you look at him, at the man who once meant everything to you, and feel the tears well up in your eyes.

you need to move on. it’s been half a year, and you’re still in the same place, still foolishly hoping that satoru will change overnight. still waiting for him to burst through the door, fall to his knees, and apologize for everything that’s gone wrong in your relationship. the reality of your stagnant situation presses down on you, a painful reminder that hope alone isn’t enough to mend the fractures that have grown too deep.

haru’s laughter rings out again, drawing both of your eyes to him as he runs toward you, blissfully unaware of the tension between his parents. satoru stands up as haru reaches him, lifting him into his arms with a grin that makes your heart clench. he showers haru’s chubby cheeks with kisses, telling him how much he’s missed him this week, making haru giggle with delight.sSatoru is such a good father, and that only makes everything harder.

“ready to go?” he asks, holding haru close. the boy nods, and satoru tells him to say goodbye to you.

“bye, mommy!” haru waves enthusiastically. you kiss his cheek and tell him you’ll pick him up soon.

“i’ll see you sunday?” satoru confirms, his gaze searching yours.

you nod, unable to trust your voice. with one last wave at haru you watch as they make their way toward his car. as they disappear from view, the weight of what you’re leaving behind settles heavily over you. moving on was never easy, but with satoru, it feels almost impossible.

----

>> ch 2

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[eowynstwin]

Blackbird, Fly - Three

Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. You wonder if this is how lambs feel, when shorn for the first time. content warning for marital rape after the second break previous masterlist ao3 next

“Come,” says Hans, tugging on your arm, “let’s get you ready for the ceremony.”

Your husband-to-be leads you up the porch steps and into the house, long legs carrying him ahead so fast you must practically jog to keep up with him. You stumble when you enter the house—the interior is fantastically well-appointed, with papered walls and carved wood furniture, framed photos hanging beside paintings, pressed flowers, hunting trophies, rifles and knives and old farm equipment. The floor beneath your feet is polished and smooth, spread over in places with thick, fringed rugs. You don’t see much more of it after your initial impression; Hans pulls you along at a clip.

Even such a brief glimpse, though, proves your long-held assumptions about Hans and his livelihood; his family has done well for itself, over the years. The kitchen, dining room, and sitting room are all separate from each other, and the manor’s first floor alone is larger than the small farmhouse you grew up in. Your family always made an effort to present a comfortable, clean home, but it seems downright drab in memory now in comparison to this.

There’s a bit of a bustle going on as Hans tugs you along—you hear movement in the kitchen, punctuated by the clang of dishes moving to and fro. A rough voice grinds out something short, and a couple of cowboys emerge with covered dishes that they set on the dining table before they return back into the fray. In the sitting room, an older woman with short, sandy brown hair sits at a desk, spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She glances up at you, betrays no interest, and then ignores you.

“You’ll meet everyone at the ceremony,” Hans says. He directs you up the stairs. “Right now you need something nice to wear.”

“O-oh,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirt as you climb the steps. The fabric, purchased at a discount after you’d saved pennies and nickels for months, suddenly feels thin and insubstantial between your fingers.

Hans brings you into the main bedroom, equally well-designed with molded wood paneling and brass lanterns on the walls, where he goes to a chest at the foot of the massive bed four-poster bed. Everything you’ve seen so far in this house is much finer than what even the most well-to-do farmers back home could display; you used to imagine that wealth like this could only be within the reach of select few businessmen on the east coast. You never imagined you’d have the chance to marry into it.

“I think this should suit you,” says Hans, turning to you with a stack of clothing in one hand.

You take it from him when he proffers it—a skirt, blouse, and jacket, you find. The fabric is silky in your hands, glossy and cool to the touch and very fine. You shake out the skirt; yards of bustled fabric tumble open to reveal pleated gathers, elegant bows, and velvet trim. The paired jacket is much the same, with pearl buttons down the front, and the accompanying blouse is a weave of tight, delicate lace.

Your earlier fears are soundly confirmed; you are in no way dressed for a wedding to Hans König. Gaz had only been trying to be kind; being here, now, seeing the kind of splendor Hans lived with every day, no one could make the mistake that you could measure up on your own.

“Thank you, Hans,” you say, face warming with embarrassment.

“Think nothing of it,” says Hans, looking you up and down expectantly. “Go on.”

You blink. “Ex—excuse me?”

Hans raises his brows as if it should be obvious. “Why, let’s see you in it, dear girl.”

You blanch. Surely he isn’t suggesting…“But—well, Hans, we aren’t—we haven’t—”

“My dear, I’ve already promised to marry you. Why would I go to such expense on a wedding merely to fool you into showing me your underthings?”

You drop your gaze to the floor, cheeks burning. “It’s not proper.”

“Bah,” says Hans. He takes the clothes back from you, tosses them onto the bed, and brings his hands to the buttons down your front. “It’s not like I won’t see this again in a few hours.”

You are rooted to the spot. He unbuttons your dress with an alacrity that startles you; in a few short moments, he makes an opening wide enough to slip over your shoulders, and unceremoniously he pushes the collar open and lets the dress drop to the floor.

You blink several times. You wonder if this is how lambs feel, when shorn for the first time; do they feel suddenly like they’ve been skinned? Does the air suddenly feel much closer, more real than it had before? You remember shearing season on a neighbor’s farm, the angular planes of shortened fleece cropped close to twitching flesh. The sheep had looked unfinished after the deed was done—like wooden figurines only partly whittled.

When you look to Hans’ face, you find him gazing at the tight space where your chemise tucks into the line of your corset. Then, as if in a dream, he reaches out with one huge hand and cups the mound of one breast.

The air vacates your lungs. It’s the first time a man has ever touched you this way.

When young ladies of a certain age gather to socialize, matters of discussion inevitably tend toward the prurient. Your peers delighted in sharing the wealth of erotic experience they’d accrued; trysts in larders, late graveyard meetings, dizzying accounts of hands and mouths in places that sent shame pumping hot and curious through your veins. You lived vicariously through their adventures; opportunities for your own, with three older brothers and a protective father, were nonexistent.

The embarrassing fact is that in matters of your marital duties, you received no practical education.

The one time your mother, a modest woman, saw fit to tutor you, she’d taken you out to the small enclosure in which the family goats were kept. The animals were useful for milk and occasionally meat, so there was always a breeding pair at hand. This occasion, they served the additional use of instruction; the male was rutting.

Your mother had made you watch as the billy mounted the nanny, and shoved its little goat prick into her hindquarters. The billy seemed mindless with want, ferocious, gyrating its hips uncomfortably, which the nanny took with what seemed like resigned patience, if it was paying attention at all. Once the billy finished, it dismounted, chewed its cud a little bit, and walked off. The nanny seemed unperturbed, rather detached from the whole thing, and similarly continued with whatever it had been doing before.

“It’s about like that,” said your mother, unable to look you in the eye.

So you have little knowledge of the matter.

And you have no idea what to do now, as your husband-to-be fondles you and stares down at you with what seems like only idle interest. Hans’ thumb brushes over the space where your nipple would be, hot even through layers of cotton and whalebone. The fine hairs on your arms raise, standing straight up.

What are you supposed to do now? Touch him back? Your stomach turns over at the thought. Even if you wanted to, you have no idea how. Hans is touching you so casually, as if you’ve been his wife for years, but you are as poor in wifely instinct as you are in everything else.

“Lovely,” he says, eyes locked on the place where your chest is rapidly rising and falling.

You inhale shakily. This is fine. He wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t—of course it’s all right, you’re to be married within the hour. It’s only your breast, and only his hand, and it’s over your clothes. It’s fine.

“May—” your voice comes out dry. You clear your throat. “May I dress now, Hans?”

He smiles. You note that he has a thin-lipped smile, and his eyes do not crinkle at the corners. “Of course.”

-

When the guests have all arrived, when the world around you is bathed in the orange-gold light of the setting sun, and when the mandolin plays the bridal chorus, you join Hans König under an archway of lupine and Indian paintbrush. Evening gives way to night as the last day of your old life comes to a close, ending as you say the words that until now you’ve only whispered in the night at your bedside.

For better—for worse—as long as you both shall live. Over and over again, until your tongue recognized the shape of them like the Lord’s Prayer. As if practicing them enough would speed the hour to you all the sooner in which their vow became real.

Hans kisses you for the second time, and then together, arm in arm, you turn to face the congregation’s applause.

Stars begin peeking white faces through the dimming sky as the band strikes up a tune, and as the reception commences, you must shake hands with the whole county. The priest John MacTavish insists upon introducing himself first—a younger man, with vivid blue eyes and an unusual haircut, gives his congratulations in a husky Scottish brogue entirely inappropriate for a man of the cloth. He’s followed by the sheriff, Simon Riley, who practically chases him off—another tall man, near to your husband’s height, and twice as broad. Curiously, he wears a bandanna across the lower half of his face. His greeting to you is gruff, short—polite in a way that seems unnatural for him.

Next is a slightly older woman, splendidly dressed in lace-trimmed taffeta. She comes over to kiss your cheeks in the French style. Hans ducks his head as she smiles at you; you can’t help but feel similar trepidation. She is terribly striking, with delicate creases on either side of her mouth and a mysterious twinkle in her eye.

“The hotel in town is my establishment,” she tells you. “The bath house, as well.”

“Oh,” you say, “how lovely.”

Her smile quirks at the corners; she looks at Hans, then back to you, and softly chucks your chin. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes, Madame, thank you,” your husband says quickly as your face sets to blazing. “I believe others would like to speak to us, as well, if you don’t mind.”

She gives you another enigmatic smile, tightens the light chiffon wrap around her shoulders, and leaves you to the banker and his wife, who both eagerly step up to talk your ear off.

Farmers, other ranchers, ramblers and gamblers and trappers; it seems everyone in the state has come to pay you their respects, and they all want to meet you at the exact same time. The rough voice you heard in the kitchen manifests itself in the form of a burly man with mutton chops, who introduces himself as John Price the saloon owner. A young woman with an unsmiling face named Ms. Boucher tells you your first purchase at her dry goods store will be discounted by five percent, as a welcome gift from her to you. She punctuates the statement with a narrow-eyed look at your husband, but you have no time to wonder at it before the next guests capture your attention.

A whole line of Hans’ cowboys, headed by the woman you saw working at the writing desk when you arrived, form up to tell you their names and pledge you their loyalty, still dressed in their wrangling leathers but bathed and combed and polished for the occasion nonetheless. The woman introduces herself as Kate Laswell, the foreman.

“I took care of the accounting after Anna passed,” Laswell says to you. “Tomorrow I’ll go through the books with you. It’ll be your job from now on.”

“Now, Kate, you shouldn’t discuss business at my wedding,” says Hans, politely, but somewhat terse. “And besides, that would be far too much for my new bride.”

“Hans, I told you,” you say earnestly, referencing a summer letter, “I want to be a part of things.”

He smiles genially at you—but the expression seems tight. “Of course, dear.”

“Tomorrow,” Kate says to you. Curiously, she looks you up and down. Then, “You’ll need to see the tailor, as well, I think.”

Her words are not said unkindly, but they shame you anyway, reminding you just how poorly matched as yet you are to this life. When you’d put the dress on earlier, it had been immediately clear to you that it was not made to your measurements, but you hadn’t thought it would be so obvious to anyone else. Only Hans’ cowboys proceeding to introduce themselves saves you from having to respond.

One is conspicuously absent.

Unexpectedly, it hurts. Even though it shouldn’t. Gaz had only driven you here, after all. You’ve known him less than a day. It shouldn’t disappoint you, as you keep your eyes on the moving line, that he does not come forward, but it does.

In between meeting the county folk, you manage to get a few bites of the wedding feast—prime rib, lamb chowder, baked fish, seasoned potatoes, collard greens, fried tomatoes, sourdough biscuits, and three different fruit cobblers still somehow steaming from the oven. You and Hans cut the bride’s cake, an impressive sheet of angel food and ivory buttercream that he must have procured at outrageous cost; you are not embarrassed to wolf it down in front of Hans’ guests. It’s the sweetest, softest thing you’ve ever eaten, more delicate than you ever could have imagined any food could be.

As the sky darkens overhead, the faint cloud of the milky way coalesces in the light of the waxing moon, and the band takes up a lively jig as the wedding party sallies forth to the clearing to dance arm in arm. Your husband whirls you along with them, arm around your waist, and then you’re dancing, too, and the familiar two-step lifts your flagging spirits as the cool night air runs quick, soft fingers across your burning cheeks.

So what if some cowboy hadn’t made it to your wedding? You’re dancing with your husband, after months of longing for him; everything and everyone else is inconsequential laid up against this triumph.

Faces blur in the lamplight the night falls indigo around you, and as the music changes Hans twirls you into a new set of arms in a jaunt that has everyone exchanging partners. They hold you only briefly before the music changes again, and off you bounce to another, the world spinning around you faster and faster, jubilant and surreal, and then another—

Suddenly you are in Kyle Garrick’s arms.

He catches you like lassoing a runaway horse, taking your momentum into the pillar of his body as he winds you in close. One of his hands spreads warm across your back, fingers spanning what feels like the entire breadth of your waist. His other cradles your own in his palm, long fingers folded around it like an envelope. You fit against him easily, perfectly, like a couple illustrated in a storybook.

“Mr. Garrick,” you gasp.

“Mrs. König,” he says.

Suddenly you realize you’re out of breath. You take deep gulps of air, and Gaz’s scent permeates your lungs. Lavender soap and bay rum, polished leather, sweet hay. The soft, dense curls of his hair are combed and parted a little, and the short stubble he’d greeted you with on the train platform is tonsured down flush to his jaw.

He leans in closer to you, hovers his lips near to one ear. “You changed your dress.”

He doesn’t keep pace with the other dancers, or swing you around in time with the music; he lets the world slow around you both, the music falling away as he brings the pace of your heart down with soft line of his mouth and the steady, still look in his dark eyes. His hand on your back radiates so much warmth that it cuts through the evening chill just beginning to set in, as if his palm is directly against your naked skin.

You smile meekly. “It wasn’t appropriate for a wedding.”

His dark brows pull together; his hands tighten their purchase on you. You watch him avert his eyes from you, take a great breath in through flared nostrils.

“Mr. Garrick,” you say, feeling too honest, “do you disapprove of me?”

He snaps his gaze back to you. “Why would you think that?”

You swallow. “You don’t seem very pleased, whenever we talk, is all.”

Suddenly Gaz smiles—lets out a short, sharp laugh that bares his even teeth, shows the points of his canines. “That’s not your fault. I promise you.”

“Then what is it?”

He gazes at you. Lamplight casts the angles of his face in shadow, deepens the darkness of his eyes. His shoulder is solid beneath where your hand rests, shaped hard by a life on the range; you could lay the entirety of your weight against him, you think, and he wouldn’t even sway with holding you up. There’s something very present about Kyle Garrick. Something real. It draws you in like the earth draws the moon into its orbit.

“Do you really want this?” he asks you.

You blink. “Of course I do.”

“You hardly know him.”

“I’ve known him for half a year, Mr. Garrick,” you say, somewhat unsure how much explanation you owe this cowboy. After all, you’d vowed to earn his trust, as his employer’s new wife. “I know you might have some reservations about me. I understand, really.”

“No,” says Gaz immediately, dark brows low and serious over his eyes. “Not about you.”

“Mrs. König!” an accented voice calls.

Immediately the world speeds up around you again, music crashing back into your ears, wedding guests spinning and leaping around you, and you turn to see your husband standing at the edge of the clearing.

The dancing comes to a halt at the sound of his voice; Hans outstretches one hand toward you.

“I believe it is time for us to retire,” he says.

Gaz’s hands tighten on you again. You feel the eyes of the other dancers on the two of you, tight lines of attention between you and them.

You have felt it all evening, really—the undercurrent lining every conversation, the askance looks tossed at you and your husband when no one thought you’d notice. The pervading sense of some drama playing out just outside of your comprehension.

You turn to look back at Gaz. His mouth is pressed into a hard line. The wells of his eyes are ink-dark, opaque, eclipsed by something of a shape beyond your knowing. He says nothing as he holds your gaze, only watches you with an expectation so stoic, so resigned, that you feel almost guilty for releasing him.

He lets you go as if his grasp wasn’t even tight in the first place. You turn away from him, from the stone-hard expression on his face, and go to slide your fingers into your husband’s waiting hand.

Wolf-whistles populate the night air as he smiles approvingly, nods, and leads you away. Short bursts of knowing applause behind you draw your shoulders tight together.

“Ignore them,” says Hans, tucking your hand into the crook of his arm. “They’re just fools.”

You look back over your shoulder. Gaz still stands amid the dancers, a wide berth around him. His eyes have not left you; they pierce you in the night, sharp even as the distance between you grows.

You have only one other point of reference, aside from your mother’s tutelage, for how the end of this evening might go. A topaz glimmering in the folds of your memory.

Years ago, before the shine had worn off as it usually does with older siblings, you’d worshiped your oldest brother like he was Jesus Christ returned. You’d trailed after him like a newborn pup, dogging his every step, hoping your devotion would earn you even the smallest scraps of his affection. You’d watched his comings and goings like you could divine the mysteries of God from the merest angle of his movements.

One night, far past the time when everyone should be asleep, he’d slipped out of the small three-room house your family shared. You knew, because you slept closest to the door, and by then could recognize him by the rhythm of his footsteps. Like any nosy little sibling, you’d followed him out once you were sure he couldn’t hear you behind him.

He’d made his creeping way toward the barn, his path and yours lit only by a waxing moon. You remember, sneaking along after him, noticing a dim glow emanating from the cracks in the hayloft door, and guessed that your brother had realized he’d forgotten to snuff a lantern before going to bed—and now he was going to put it out, rather than leave a hay fire to chance.

He went inside. You were about to follow (no sibling, however divine, was exempt from a good ribbing, and nearly burning down the barn was excellent blackmail fodder)—when you heard another voice.

A female voice. Soft, and sweet, and welcoming.

Very little preamble separated that revelation from the next, and what you heard in the following moments rooted you there in place; movement. Rustling. For the span of a few heartbeats, nothing except for the crickets in the fields—and then, like the moon rising on a cloudless night—a growing chorus, voices high and low, moaning together in staccato.

You’d stood there, frozen absolutely solid, as it went on. The high voice lifted higher, and higher, carried on frantic, rapid breaths, until it cut off with a shriek that muffled so fast you knew your brother had covered the girl’s mouth.

Then—quiet, shared laughter.

So you know a little more than what the goats taught you.

Hans leads you back inside the house, where the lanterns have been turned to low, orange specks of light. You fix your eyes on the nape of his neck ahead of you as the two of you climb the stairs, making your way back to the master bedroom. The cacophony of the wedding celebration is far away; he opens the door, draws you inside, and shuts it behind him.

You stand in the middle of the room, looking at him. This whole evening has felt like a dream, but as you gaze at your husband, you suddenly feel like you’re waking up. You have not been alone with Hans since you met him, not really, and you realize he hasn’t felt quite real to you because of it. You almost feel as if you can see him, for the first time, see the words that have made him up in your memory coalesce into the flesh-and-blood man standing before you.

This is him. This is Hans. This is the man you love.

Softly, you approach him. Reach up with two hands to take his face in them; press your lips, shyly, unpracticed, to his.

“Hans,” you say, more softly than you have ever said anyone’s name in your life, looking into the pale blue of his eyes.

He gazes down at you. “Let’s get undressed,” he says.

It’s the moment you expected, but it daunts you nonetheless. You nod, step away from your husband, and he sets to the task—he shucks his coat, dropping it on the floor, and unhooks his suspenders. Swiftly you turn away from him when he begins unbuttoning his shirt, face blazing—of course, you’ve seen men undress before, you have three brothers, but this—this—

The reality of what you are about to do douses you all at once, soaking you to the bone. When you bring your hands up to the buttons of your bodice, they are trembling; you can barely get the tiny pearls between your fingers to undo them. You hear more clothes land on the floor behind you as you struggle, and then nothing. Stillness.

His eyes are heavy on your back. He is silent as you finally get the jacket off, and the blouse along with it; he is silent as you push the skirt down over your hips, the garment piling on the floor.

Your whole body is shaking by the time you’re down only to your chemise, shivering like a foal on new legs as you bare your shoulders. You close your eyes. There’s no need to be afraid as you shuffle the garment down your back. It’s only your husband behind you, looking at you as you bare your buttocks, as you step out of the split shorts, as the cool night air caresses your naked belly.

“That’s enough,” Hans says behind you when your hands go to the ties on your stockings.

You go still.

“Get on the bed, now.”

-

You focus on your breathing. Long breaths, in and out, as you crawl belly-first onto the mattress, which sinks luxuriously under your weight, softer than any bed you’ve lain on in your life. Suddenly, before you have time to adjust, the mattress sinks even more under you, and an envelope of heat and weight looms over you, pressing hard onto you, bare skin and the smell of sweat and the sound of another person’s breathing over you invading your senses.

Then there’s something blunt nudging at the entrance of your sex. A hand on your hip, gripping tight. The blunt thing circles briefly, parting your folds, and then is pressing into you. Pressing in somewhere tight, somewhere that doesn’t want to open to let it in. You hold your breath. It presses harder, fighting the resistance, and then finally gets past it, just a half inch or so—and suddenly it hurts.

“Hans,” you whisper.

He hasn’t seem to have heard you. He pushes harder, just a bit further. There’s another wall of resistance, this one needling and far more solid. You gasp sharply at the dryness of it, the way his member seems to want to push your own folds up into you as it tries to get in, shoving, bludgeoning, and then, mercifully, Hans pulls away.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to suggest that maybe the two of you try this later. Clearly there is something about you that’s not ready for it—but then his hand is between your legs, smearing something slippery around, and just briefly he touches something that pulses with interest. You jolt as little sparks of pleasure dance through you but quickly burn out, and then, the blunt head of his cock is back, pushing in, much faster, much smoother, huge and hard—

Suddenly it is sharp inside you, razor sharp, paralyzing. You shriek in pain, tears welling acidic in your eyes, shocked, betrayed, and he keeps coming, an endless length of him forcing inside, making room where there is none, going somewhere it clearly must not belong—and then he groans, loud and guttural, and begins to pull out.

You don’t have enough time to mistake this for the end of it. He pulls out halfway and then rams back in, slamming against your body, punching what must be the very limit of the space he can make for himself in your body. Pain roars to life around his cock, radiating outward, a ripping and shredding that grows as he forces himself into you again, and then again, and then it’s happening for real, he’s begins thrusting so fast it knocks the breath from your lungs, slapping his hips against your backside as he grunts and groans behind you like a dumb animal. He batters some nexus of agony that sends you screaming, shrieking with every jerk of his hips, tears streaming down your face as you grip the blanket in clawed fingers.

“Please, Hans, stop, please!”you wail. “Stop, stop, stop—”

His hand grips back of your head, turning your face downward—pressing it against the bed, muffling your mouth and nose and eyes into the blanket—

He jerks against you as agony writes itself into your bone marrow. Your hands circle in on themselves so tightly you feel your fingernails bite into your palms. Any memory of laughter you ever had abandons you.

Then, suddenly, mercifully, he’s forcing himself into you as deeply as he can, groaning loud, and something warm blooms in you, squelches out warm and sticky as he pulls in and out a few more times. He stills then from his furious rutting, hanging over you, panting.

Then he pulls out. Your husband lets you go and rolls over, breathing hard on the bed. You lay absolutely dead still, shaking violently, every muscle in your body tensed up painfully tight.

“Hans,” you whimper, “Hans.”

“Mm-hm,” he hums.

“Hans.” Every nerve is vibrating with pain. “Hans, that hurt.”

There is a long silence after. So long, you start to believe that he won’t say anything; that perhaps, even, he’s fallen asleep, and your words have dropped like flies from the air between you before they reached him.

But he hasn’t fallen asleep. Your husband shuffles off the bed, lifts the linen, and shuffles back into it. The lantern light is dim in the bedroom, but light enough that you can see the nonplussed expression on his face.

“Anna got used to it,” he says finally, eyes closing. “You will too.”

And he turns on his side and says no more to you.

You lay there aching. When you drag your fingers through the slick mess between your thighs, streaks of red intermingle with the clear and the white.

Suddenly you want this day to be over. You want to close your eyes and dream that it never happened—or maybe, if you go to sleep, you’ll awaken to find that it was all a dream after all, and you’re still home, your mother cooking just outside the bedroom door. Slowly, you inch off the bed, finding the floor with your stockinged feet, and go to douse the lanterns.

The room is cold and silvery without their light. Darkness gathers in the corners, around the weak glow of moonlight failing to fully penetrate the curtains over the window. You gingerly swipe the cloth from a nearby washbasin between your legs, cleaning up the remnants of your husband’s pleasure, and then, with nowhere else to go, you return to the empty side of the bed and crawl stiffly under the covers.

He does not stir as you settle in beside him. You lay your head on the pillow next to his and fold your hands over your stomach.

Outside and far away, you think you can hear the band still merrily playing. The darkness deepens, and deepens, until you can’t tell where it ends and you begin.

-

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]

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A/N: Had this song on repeat since its release and it reminded me of these two so much…

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]

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Sharing is caring, but when it comes to being between the King of Hell himself and his newly established opponent - the all too cocky Radio Demon- you don’t have much say in who gets fair claim of your existence.

Sharing is caring, but only in the ways that matter to the men wrapped around your little finger. Lucifer needs your physical touch; he can’t go one moment without it, and god help you if you’re around other flirtatious sinners -he’ll be all over you for no reason at all. Hand on your hip, lower back, even on your ass if he’s feeling possessive. His height doesn’t matter, not when he can back hug you just fine, plant kisses on your head or temple, and sit you down on his lap without a second thought. Lucifer is a sucker for praising you, every word out of his mouth is sweeter than honey, and the knowing smile on his lips when you get all soft and shy from his gentle admiration swells his already massive sense of pride.

“You’re a sweet little sinner, aren’t you, baby doll?”

“I’m so proud of you, my love.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me, sweetheart..”

“Atta girl…keep going��just like that…”

The King of Hell never runs out of patience for you, spending his free time in your presence without a care for his rival's foreboding aura. Though at times they blatantly argue, the drop of your sweet smile into a solemn frown has them both rushing out an apology. However, Lucifer is quicker than Alastor to admit his faults. He makes up for mistakes with sincere gestures, visiting you in the dead of night with the promise of pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves. By the following day, you can’t even begin remembering what you were angry about.

Sharing is caring, but Alastor has a hard time with both concepts. He’s not one for physical affection, preferring acts of service and gift-giving as alternatives. You don’t seem to mind, always at his side when he calls, a pretty little thing on his arm while he struts about hell running conspicuous errands, and a genuinely engaging sinner he doesn’t mind having deep conversations with. You contrast him in all the right ways: expressive but gentle, lethal but only when provoked. Unlike most demons, you hold value to Alastor, drawing out a softer, more honest version of the stag that most will never see. In private, you’re allowed to babble off his ear while he works, cuddle up in his lap when he’s feeling ‘vulnerable,’ and sometimes you’re lucky enough to get a few somewhat kind words from the overlord amid lingering kisses.

“What a pretty little thing you are,”

“I’m tempted to keep you all to myself, ma chere… Would you like that, hm?”

“I know you can’t help being a greedy girl, darling, but I’ll always be better than that pompous excuse for a king.”

“You love to provoke me, don’t you, little one? Prancing around the hotel like you do, smiling at every little thing, and showing off for attention..”

“It’s rather pathetic, but lovely things can’t control what they attract..”

He’s possessive, outright toxic in some instances, but you’re quick to manipulate the stag into an agreeable state with the threat of seeking out Lucifer’s company over his. This tactic occasionally works, but sometimes it enrages Alastor to bloodlust. His semi-polite exterior falters, causing the overlord to be on edge with everyone -especially Lucifer- and the king won’t let a chance to irritate him further slip by.

“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”

Lucifer snickers as Alastor enters the parlor through its shadows, automatically glaring at the sight of you straddling the blonde fallen angel with his hat lazily set on your head, and you giggle at his obvious disdain for the scene. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Al. I just wanted to play with Luci for a bit.. “ you flash him a cheeky grin, purposely shifting on the devil's lap to feel his growing erection and show more skin hidden underneath your fluffy oversized jumper. Lucifer chuckled, ducking his head to give you a quick kiss as the crackle of static resonated around the room, but you were far from scared of Alastor’s fury in the presence of his rival.

Sharing is caring, but later that night, when you snuggled under your bedsheets with Lucifer, lying on his bare chest, only wearing his dress shirt, soundly asleep, and listening to his undead heartbeat, you’re jolted awake by the distinctive coolness of shadows lurking over your skin.

“What made you think I wouldn’t put you in your place, my dear? That I wouldn’t remind you he’s not the only one who can lay claim to your very existence?..”

Alastor’s voice echoes through your head, coaxing you awake as his specters entangle around you. They tug, pull, squeeze, and ravish your small frame with his every word. Your cunt starts to pulse with need, leaking arousal in steady drops as a shadowy tentacle prods your entrance before sheathing itself in your warm walls with one sharp thrust.

“Ahm!” You yelp, eyes shooting open as a satisfied whine leaps from your lips; quiet moans soon follow as the bulk of shadows touches your womb with tender strokes. Two more snake up the borrowed dress shirt, swirling under the white silk with precise menstruations, encircling your fragile body ruthlessly until you’re forced to sit up in hopes of gaining more fleeting touches. “Alastor, you’re being mean…” you groan into the darkness, hips rutting down in timid circles, a reflexive action you try to maintain to avoid waking the man lying under you. Alastor’s low laughter shifts from your mind to the confines of the room, signaling his physical appearance in the space, and you’re tempted to search for him but aren’t given a chance to as the scrape of his sharp claws manifests along your sides. He’s close, so close you can feel him leering behind you, breathing in your ear as if he needed your scent to survive.

You lean backward, humming at the familiar firmness of his chest meeting your back,” Just wanted you to be a little nicer, that’s all…” Your explanation for earlier does nothing to quell Alastor’s jealousy; his hands hovering over your sides clamp down harshly, and his claws shred through Lucifer’s shirt to prick your skin. Your heart thuds wildly as a scream threatens to fall from your chest from the pain he causes, but your cunt clenches with excitement from his aggressive treatment. “Reasoning won’t help you now, darling. It seems you only understand one thing..” he purrs into your ear, red eyes glowing as they trace your flushed form, “A-and what’s that?..” you mumble fearfully, feeling a coil build in your core, but a pang of shame in your chest overrides it as Lucifer begins to stir below you. He’ll awake any second, and though you weren’t afraid of him seeing you in a whorish state, very used to being intimate with him, the unpredictable reaction he’d have to Alastor taking advantage of you right in front of his eyes was still nerve-wracking.

Sharing is caring, and Alastor’s response to your feverish question makes more sense than you care to admit. “Attention, my dear. You’re shamelessly addicted to it,” he drawls, smile widening when you whine helplessly, back arching as his shadows wrap around your breasts before swiping over your pert nipples while your cunt no longer resists forceful strokes of his shadows. Your vision blurs as the sensations blend, erasing mannerable actions from your thoughts the closer to cumming you got, and the riveting shivers vibrating your body were evidence enough. The subtle tremble of your thighs mixed with the combined noise of your soft moans and Alastor’s hushed taunting drew the King of Hell awake with a gentle start. Lucifer ruts his hips upwards on instinct before groaning tiredly, mildly aware of the familiar stickiness your arousal causes on his pale skin but unsure as to why it’s there. “Baby, what’s the matter-“He’s at a loss for words for a long moment, almost panting at the sight above him, confused at first but gradually intrigued as sleep waned from his consciousness. Alastor smirks, lips against your neck as he stares down at the fallen angel, daring him to instigate a fight. “Ah, looks like you awoke your preferred lover, ma chere. How rude…” the deer demon taunts you, clearly unbothered by your disagreements and conflicted writhing. “N-no, that’s not ah- ah- mmm fuck Al, please d-don’t!” A bright blush coats your cheeks, tears brimming your waterline as the demon nips at your bare shoulder before lapping up the blood that trickles from the wound. His gaze never leaves Lucifer’s as his tongue collects the red liquid, humming triumphantly as a prominent red color floods the ladders’ cheeks and eyes. “How fucking dare you..” the blonde hisses, voice thick with an indecipherable emotion, and you whine anxiously as embarrassment rushes your veins. It wasn’t your fault Alastor was taking his anger out on you this way, disregarding his aversion for touch in the hopes of getting back at you both, but it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the intense situation brewing.

Sharing is caring, and you're afraid neither entity will consider doing so as a heavy beat of silence engulfs the room. The only sound is your rushed breaths, growing heavier with every thrust and twist of Alastor’s shadows in and around your body. You try to break free from the overlord, gazing down at Lucifer pleadingly for a better chance at forgiveness. Unexpectedly, his displeased expression morphs dramatically seeing the desperation in your eyes. He’d never been the type for sadism, let alone encouraging it, but your need for his help stirred a primal desire in his chest that he’d only felt sparks of recently. It was no help to him that Alastor, a demon with no remorse or pity for your plight, was the one indicting pleasure on you. He’d seen the stag agitated, irritated, and maybe even flustered but never lustful. It was new and undeniably attractive. Why waste an opportunity to use it against him?

Lucifer took a slow breath, stamping out his rage in seconds as his eyes shifted from your lidded ones to Alastor’s, “How dare you have fun without me, hm?… that’s a little unfair,” he pouts, stifling a groan as his cock twitches to life. The radio demon scoffs, forgetting his grudge against Lucifer for the mutual benefit of desire, “If you wished for fairness, you shouldn’t have fallen from heaven …” he taunts back.

Sharing is caring, but the instant sting of Alastor’s insult doesn’t anger Lucifer like usual. It eggs on the blonde, prompting him to reach for you, and you welcome the gentle coolness of his fingers trailing up front. Unlike Alastor, his claws do you no harm, never breaking skin even as he cups your jaw firmly. “C’mere, little one. M’ not going to hurt you…” he coos quietly, eyes glowing as brightly as Alastor’s as you leer into his touch like a wounded lamb. “Yes sir…” you whisper compliantly, surprised that Alastor relents his hold just enough to let you follow Lucifer’s lead. He’s relatively calm watching you, admiring how your hair falls like a curtain over your flushed face, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the dress shirt slipping off your shoulders but sticking to your skin at every curve you had. There were reasons he wanted you to himself but dealt with sharing you with another, and this sight was one of them. You could be so good to them both, on all fours, cunt creaming from his actions and Lucifer’s words, and your loyalty to them both on a whole show no matter the implications.

Sharing is caring, and to some degree, you believe it’s a possibility for your relationship with a prideful fallen angel and an egotistical demon. Lucifer lay beneath your trembling form, muttering encouraging praises against your lips when he wasn’t connecting them with his own in heated kisses.

“Mhm, good girl…go on, come for him like you do for me.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”

“Fuck, you like that hm? Want more? Ask him nicely, sweetheart…”

“Cum for us, my love…”

“You’re doing so well….taking us so well. There you go, baby, all of it just like that…”

Alastor loses track of himself within moments of watching you come undone in his shadows for the first time, hungry to feel the warmth of your cunt for himself as puddles of your cum form on Lucifer’s crotch. You don’t fight him when he replaces his specter's task of fucking you, welcoming the length of his cock with a grateful smile and melodic moan of his name. “Alastor!… nghh yess, please r-right there!..” you yelp into Lucifer’s neck, letting him cradle your head as he talks you through the rise of your next high, “You sound so precious like this, baby. Give em’ what he wants.” His tone is strained, leaning towards a moan as he watches your expressions switch between pleasure and pure wonder. Alastor is fixated on the both of you, ears twitching at the top of his head with every satiated moan you let out and sinful word Lucifer says. His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them harshly as he snaps his roughly, plowing his cock into your cunt with so much pent aggression your legs refuse to stop shaking. “Oh, fuck…” he groans in the air, tearing his gaze away from your arched back and leaking entrance to try and slow the impending peak of his high. Self-control was something Alastor prided himself in, but it was spiraling from his grasp the longer he fucked you.

Was this what the King of Hell had been enjoying with you?

Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?

Filling you with his overrated seed in the hopes of one-upping him?

If so, Alastor could never blame him. You felt divine, after all, and had no complaints about being used for pleasure.

Sharing is caring, but you forget all about it when Alastor yanks you away from Lucifer, a hand tangled in your head so tight you’re sure he might rip into your scalp if he holds you any tighter. Luckily, the overlord refrains from doing so, opting to groan into your ear as he buries his length to the hilt in your fluttering cunt, spilling ropes of warm cum into your abused womb with no remorse. “Don’t waste a single drop, ma chere. See it as a gift for being so well-behaved,” the radio overlay in his voice is gone, giving way to an accent you couldn’t resist mewling at. Lucifer chuckled, eyes fixed on where Alastor and you were connected, smirking at the mess you’d both made on top of him. “Need a taste of that…” he mumbles more to himself, tone hungry, demanding. You’ve yet to catch your breath before Alastor lets out a short laugh, flinging you forward into Lucifer’s chest without much care as to how weak you still are, “Greedy bastard,” he snickers, slowly pulling out of you with a satisfied grin at your attempt to keep him in. “Now, now, dear. I’ll have another turn with you soon. No need to be selfish..”

Sharing is caring, and oh, how wonderful it is when you’re sat in Alastor’s lap, facing away from him, one leg bent over his while the other rests on Lucifer’s shoulder. The King of Hell kneels before you both, inhaling the scent of your cunt, and smiling at the steady stream of cum drizzling past your folds. He’d done this many times before, a being addicted to the taste of women, of you specifically, but you still shied away from his vulgar eagerness. Your coy reactions only worsened when the notion of Alastor’s cum mixed with your own eventually settling on Lucifer’s tongue came to mind. They hated each other after all, and despite getting along most of the time in your presence, you never imagined this to happen, but neither backed down from the ordeal.

“W-wait Luci, you don’t h-have-“ you start to protest quietly, squirming in Alastor’s hold to avoid Lucifer, but your refusals don’t hold any weight to them.

“Mm, but I want to, love…I can’t help it,” the blonde whined as if he’d die without getting the task done, hands cupping your inner thighs tenderly as he flicked his tongue over your slit and swollen clit. You jolted in Alastor’s grip, biting back a whimper as he mumbled into the crook of your shoulder, “It’s impolite to refuse royalty, so let him have his fill …”

Sharing is caring, and you’re sure Lucifer could survive off eating your pussy alone just fine for the rest of his immortal life. He makes a show of it, diving his tongue in and out of your stretched entrance, moving to suck on your clit every so often before putting both actions into tedious repetition. You couldn’t remain coherent as he explored your insides with expert focus, letting his tongue linger in the spongiest and sweetest spots in your cunt just to draw back and generously spit on your clit. He’d learned your body, when to hit nerves, or when to overwhelm them. As of now, every sense you had was heightened, intensifying when Alastor’s eyes studied your facial expressions, your smile growing an inch more expansive when you rushed out a warning to Lucifer.

“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”

The devil perks up, delving two fingers into you, red irises dilating completely as they hit a tender spot in your cunt immediately, curling against it at a languid pace. He met your gaze with a proud smile on his face, tongue lapping at your clit leisurely, begging you to come undone without hesitation. Alastor curses under his breath, agitated by the fact that your moans are turning him on again, and you feel his cock twitch under your weight.

Sharing is caring, and the euphoric bliss of releasing in Lucifer’s mouth felt divine, bringing small tears to your eyes as he buried his face in your mound, moaning at the taste of you drenching his tongue. Alastor grunts as your hips rock to meet Lucifer's pace, hands creeping up to cup your breasts, kneading the plush flesh mindlessly to avoid bucking his hips against your backside for better friction. He couldn't give his rival the triumph of seeing him worked up at the sight of you cumming so reverently under his touch. You felt powerless between them, shaking in Alastor's arms and pleading for Lucifer to join. One look is all it takes for the two to agree, giving into your minuscule wishes and thoroughly enjoying themselves the remainder of the evening.

Sharing is caring, but if you dare to utter a word of what transpired that night in the presence of others, both will deny the implication of tolerating one another. Although, you find yourself being used by both more often, stuffed full of their cum night after night, and keenly aware of the mutual trust growing between them when you finally collapse into sleep by their sides. They're capable of fair behavior with you, but only in private. Away from the eyes of others who’ll never witness how obsessed The Radio Demon & The King of Hell are with you and you alone.

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It's just a filler post cause I'm getting burnt out with requests! ❤️ I love your ideas, so I'm trying to write them all in my style but as concisely as possible. It's tiring but fun…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

They may not be able to stand each other but I’ll gladly take them both (not in a fight) ❤️ credits to creator

[stupidlittlespirit]

Alex talked about there being one final mystery in TBoB that hasn’t been found yet and when I saw him at the talk, he ‘randomly’ scrolled through the pages on his slides and said “I’m just gonna leave this on a totally random page with no relation” which was obviously wink wink.

He left it on the lost journal 3 pages.

There aren’t any obvious symbols or anything on the page or hidden within it, so I think he was talking about what those pages were leading into….

My theory on the final mystery is:

I don’t think Ford wrote those pages.

I’ve seen a few people posit something similar and the more I’ve re-read the book more I believe it. Ford doesn’t write like that, he doesn’t speak like that. It feels off and idk why?? Maybe I’m just completely mistaking all of this or whatever but my paranoia sense is tingling.

I think the final clue is that TBoB shows you want you want to see and I believe it showed both the audience AND Bill what he hoped to see most of all.

[luv4slts]

Corruption

- neuvillette x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋₊  

tags: dubcon, bimbofication, breeding, praise kink, degrading kink, corruption, abuse of power, mention of crimes such as murder. wc: 1.7k — this is my first ever fanfic so it's not the best but i hope you enjoy it anyways <3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There were strange cases of murders happening throughout the capital of Fontaine, all very eerily similar to one another. You never intended to be caught but even a small mistake can lead to disaster. Being caught wasn't even a thought that was acknowledged in your mind. You thought no one could ever catch you. You had been so meticulous in how you went about the murders. And yet, a miscalculation did occur. You loved thinking of yourself as a brilliant mind. Maybe in another life you could’ve been the top student at the Akademiya in Sumeru, but that was too tedious for you.

“Ms. L/n, you are currently being sat for a trial so I would suggest you stop dozing off.” said the man in the golden chair

“I’m sorry, your honor.” you reply with a hint of snideness

You hated him. He was the most pretentious man you had ever met. The man in question was the Chief of Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette. He was the man in charge of ruling decisions that concerned Justice, which Fontaine was the land of. Anyone in charge of that power would only be second to the Archon.

“Courts adjourned. It will be held again tomorrow at noon.” he declares to everyone in the court

Finally, there was nothing you hated more than this boring affair. You knew that the odds weren’t very good against you so in the end you would probably be put to death anyways. Or given life imprisonment without parole. The only thing that could save you was if somehow the Archon herself ruled a decision over the case in your favor but that would never happen. You gather your things and start leaving the court, following your lawyer.

“Ms. L/n, you will not be leaving yet. I need you to come with me to my office.” he said stoically while collecting his documents.

“Of course, your honor. What would be the reason for this?”

“I just need to have a talk with you, that’s all. Nothing will be used against you so please do not fret about such things.”

He starts walking towards the door and you follow him closely. After a few minutes, you finally reach his office. You take a seat on the couch that’s in front of his desk. His room had an air of luxury and power to it. Any person with keen eyes would be able to recognize that this room belongs to someone of high esteem.

You snap out of your thoughts, “What did you want to talk to me about, sir?”

He sits on his chair, looking out the window behind him.

“I know that the odds aren’t very good against you in this case.”

Thanks for stating the obvious you think to yourself.

“And so, I would like to offer you an arrangement. Something that I think would be beneficial for the both of us.”

“What would this arrangement you speak of entail?” you’re confused but enticed at the offer

“Hmm…” he trails off for a bit before speaking again, “I would get something that I want and you receive freedom. Does that interest you?”

“Yes, it does. What might you want from me though?”

He stands from his chair, slowly walking behind you. You feel his slender hands as they rest on your shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry about that, all I need is your agreement.” you can feel his hot breath

You don’t have any other options so this wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself.

“I agree, then.”

“Wonderful.”

He slowly starts trailing his right hand down to your necklace, playing with it. He then starts placing kisses all over your neck while his hand starts going down further to the buttons of your shirt. He bites on your neck and you let out a yelp in surprise.

You can feel a smile form on his lips against your skin. He lets out a low chuckle and starts circling the spot with his tongue where he bit you before sucking on it. The sensations start building up and your breath hitches. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind but you don't protest.

His hand finishes unbuttoning your shirt and you’re left exposed in your bra.

He walks in front of you.

"Such a pretty girl..." he murmurs while putting his hand under your chin and rubbing his thumb over your lips

The heat between your thighs starts growing by each passing second. You take his thumb into your mouth before starting to slowly suck on it, moving your tongue in swirls around it.

"So needy." he purrs. He leans down towards you before clashing his lips into yours, slipping his tongue inside.

You let out a small moan into his mouth and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

As he continues to explore you mouth, he effortlessly undoes your bra. Your nipples harden as they hit the cool air.

He pulls away and a string of saliva is left that connects both of your lips before breaking as he sets his sights on your nipples. He slowly starts sucking on them, you roll your head back into the couch and writhe as the heat starts pooling in your underwear.

"More, please." you say quietly

"More? Use your words, tell me what you want." he teased

"Please pleasure me, sir." you plead and your face grows red

As soon as he hears your cries, he begins to slide his fingers down your aching body. Making sure to take his time to get more of a reaction out of you. Finally, he reaches the waist band and slides your pants off of your body. He brings his fingers over your underwear, noticing the wet pool on them.

"Do you want my fingers?" he asks while tracing the pool of wetness

"Yes, please" you whisper while biting back a moan

He hums while taking your panties off of you, the last piece of clothing on your body. He lets his fingers explore your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. Keeping his eyes on yours as he does so. You subtly arch your back, needy for more.

He chuckles before letting his fingers rub small circles on your sensitive spot. In a quick thrust, he pushes two fingers into your cunt. He curls the fingers and watches for your reaction. You let out breathy moans as they start filling the room together with the thrusts of his fingers inside your dripping cunt.

"F-fuck!" you cry out

He slams his lips into yours, "Quiet down, you don't want others to know that you're whoring yourself out to the Chief Justice, do you?"

You whimper

"Or.. do you want everyone to know? Is that it?"

You're too dumb to let out anything intelligible, letting out a whine instead.

"Mmm, how about I just breed you and make you mine instead? Then you can do whatever you want without repercussions. Do you want that?" he cooes while setting an even more brutal pace with his slender fingers

"Mmnh- yes, sir." you moan out, rolling your hips and becoming even needier than before as you feel your cunt clenching around his fingers and the climax coming closer.

Then, suddenly, he brings his fingers out and you whimper at the loss of them.

You then notice him taking his pants off. His erection is tight against his underwear. He lets it out and your eyes stay on it as you notice the girth of it.

"Spread your legs, mon chéri." he says lowly

You spread your legs, desperate for the length inside you. He teases your slit with his tip. Rubbing it slowly in circles.

Before you can react, he plunges his length into you. He sets a merciless rhythm and keeps a confident pace as he thrusts into you.

"Too much-" you sob out and he starts going faster

"No, no, my love. You're doing so well."

He brings his fingers to your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them.

"You look so pretty under me." he purrs before letting out a low groan

He continues stretching out your swollen cunt. The sound of your bodies clashing continues to fill the room and you're sure that everyone knows what's happening inside.

"Don't hold back, I want to hear you." he says shakily and you can feel his pace starting to become more frenzied

You wrap your legs around him and let our strangled noises.

"Please. Mmnh-"

His thrusts become more desperate. He lets out pants but tries to cover them by sucking in sharp breaths to try and remain composed.

"Fuck" he groans before giving one more powerful thrust and emptying himself inside of you

Your walls tighten at his length and your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure spread through your body.

He sloppily kisses you while both of you ride out of the high. He takes it out of you and you whimper as you lose the filling sensation.

Immediately he presses your legs together, "Don't make it go to waste. I need to impregnate you after all, darling." he mutters

You feel your cheeks burning and look away towards the wall. You notice yourself in the mirror and how disheveled you look.

"I have important things to go over so I would suggest you start dressing up."

"Yes, I'm sorry." you reply quietly

You put your clothes back on while he's organizing his documents.

He notices you looking at him, he curls his fingers at you. You come over to him and he puts a piece of hair behind your ear before whispering into it, "I'll do everything that needs to be done when it comes to your case so don't concern yourself with that anymore."

He stops before continuing, "However, I would like you to start working for me. I need an assistant and.. I don't think I got enough of you just from today as it was quite rushed."

He looks into you before kissing you slowly.

"I would be happy to work for such an esteemed person. sir."

"Excellent. Then, I expect to see you next week so you can get started. You may leave now." he instructs

"Have a good day, sir."

You leave, pleased at what occurred today. Thinking to yourself that perhaps it wasn't such a boring affair after all.

[moraxine]

Inevitable [Gojo Satoru]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

words: 1.3k

summary: you and satoru fall for the oldest trick in the book.

It’s a typical morning at Jujutsu High, the sun casting its warm hues across the campus as students roam the premises, training or studying. Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji are together, heads pressed close as they discuss their latest idea—Operation: Set Up Gojo and y/n.

"You guys know they totally like each other, right?" Nobara says, arms crossed. "I mean, come on, it's obvious. They keep sneaking glances at each other, the tension is unreal."

Megumi raises an eyebrow. "If it's so obvious, why haven’t they done anything about it?"

"Because they're both hopeless," Yuji chimes in with a grin. "Especially y/n-sensei. She's so shy when it comes to Gojo-sensei."

Nobara leans forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Exactly. And that’s where we come in. We need to give them a little... push. Maybe force them to confront their feelings, you know?”

Megumi sighs, accepting the fact that he has to take part in his friends’ stupidly mischievous schemes once again. “What are you thinking?

"Simple," she replies, cracking her knuckles. "We lock them up somewhere and just let the magic happen."

Later on the same day, you’ve just finished grading papers, ready to leave your office, when you receive a text from Yuji.

Hey, y/n sensei! Could you meet me in the old storage room near the gym? I really need your help with something super important!

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Other than the fact that this text is free of spelling mistakes, the request itself is quite strange. However, since your relationship with your students has been nothing but great, you put trust in them—as much as an adult can, anyway—and Yuji is no exception.

Thus, you grab your coat and make your way to the storage room. Truth be told, it’s rarely used and a bit dusty, which raises a lot of questions in your head as to why Yuji would need you there, but then you remember that it’s also tucked away enough for privacy. As you approach, you notice the door slightly ajar.

"Yuji?" you call out as you step inside.

No longer than ten seconds after you’re in, the door slams shut behind you, making you jump in terror. You whirl around, heart racing. Your hand reaches for the handle but the desperate attempt is futile.

What the actual fu-

“Oh, it’s just you.”

A helpless scream leaves your throat as you turn all the other way around and find yourself staring at the one and only Satoru Gojo, the man who’s been occupying way too much space in your thoughts lately.

Gojo seems composed when he offers you his signature smirk, leaning casually against the wall, his blindfold pulled up so his mesmerising blue eyes are visible. "I was expecting a student ambush or something."

"Yeah, well... same here, kinda,” you mutter, as you try to control your breathing. After a few moments, reality hits and your cheeks heat up as you realise you’re completely alone with him in a—not so very comfortable—space. "Did they trick you into coming here too?"

He nods. "I got a text from Megumi saying something about needing immediate help. Guess we're both suckers."

You cross your arms and sigh, slightly relieved that at least you aren’t a victim of some really serious prank. You glance at the door one last time. "Well, it's locked now, so I guess we're stuck."

There is an awkward silence for a few moments. The tension between you two has always been evident, but neither of you ever made a move to address it. You often find yourself stammering around Gojo, unable to handle the teasing words or the way his eyes linger on you a little too long sometimes.

Gojo, on the other hand, despite his confident front, is surprisingly shy when it comes to you. Sure, he makes his usual sarcastic comments and tries to act like all is fine, but deep down, he’s always been afraid of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you.

"So,” you start, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly, “you think this is some kind of setup?"

He chuckles, walking closer to you. "Oh, absolutely. Our adorable students are trying to play matchmaker. I should’ve known when I saw Yuji smiling like a fool earlier."

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore how close he’s standing now. "Well, it's not going to work. We’re professionals."

"Sure, because professionals definitely get trapped in storage rooms," Gojo quips, flashing you a grin. "Besides, I think they just wanted to speed up the inevitable."

You blink, feeling your pulse quicken. "Inevitable?"

Acting dumb won’t slow down that inevitable, either.

"You know," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Us."

You narrow your eyes, though your heart is now undoubtedly hammering in your chest. "You have a lot of nerve assuming there's an 'us,' Satoru."

He raises an eyebrow, stepping even closer, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Please, y/n, I've seen the way you look at me. You're totally into me."

Your mouth drops open, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up. Sure, he’s absolutely right, you’re head over heels for your handsome and charismatic coworker, but hell, he makes it sound one-sided when that’s so far from the truth.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who’s always staring at me during meetings. It’s creepy."

"Oh, so you notice me staring," he teases, his grin widening. "Admit it, you like it."

"I do not!" you huff in honest annoyance, cheeks burning. "And even if I did, why would I ever admit it to you? Your ego is already big enough to take up the whole room."

Gojo dramatically places a hand over his heart. "Ouch. You wound me, darling. Here I was, thinking we had a good thing going."

You cross your arms and shoot him a glare. "Yeah, well, you're delusional."

Denial will get you nowhere, you’re well aware, but the fact that Gojo is so cocky about it flips a switch inside you which makes consider whether your should jump him or jump him.

He chuckles as he leans in slightly, his face only inches from yours now. "Am I? Or are you just too shy to admit you like me?"

You swallow hard, refusing to back down. "Like you? Please, you're insufferable."

"Insufferable, huh?" he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "Then why haven't you moved away yet?"

Fair point.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Yes, you could have backed up, put some distance between you two, but instead, you’re just rooted in place, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Gojo’s smirk softens.

"You're cute when you're mad, you know that?"

You scoff, though it comes out weaker than intended. "And you're annoying, as always."

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe, but you like me anyway."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can form any sort of response, his lips are on yours, cutting you off with a sudden kiss. For a moment, you freeze in shock, but then, instinct takes over, and you kiss him back. His lips are sweet, soft, and despite the teasing and the banter, the kiss is gentle, almost tender. Gojo's hand embraces your waist and slowly pulls you in, while the other rests on your face, and you can’t help but melt under his touch.

When you finally pull away, both of you are slightly breathless, and his usual cocky grin is replaced with a softer smile.

"See?" he whispers. "Told you it was inevitable."

“You're still insufferable."

"As if it doesn’t turn you on," he teases, leaning in for another kiss.

Outside the storage room, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi exchange their triumphant high-fives.

"Mission accomplished," Nobara whispers.

Yuji nods. “Nicely done, Kugusaki."

Megumi shrugs his shoulders, glad that the whole thing is finally over.

You fell for the oldest trick in the book.

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Make Me Happy

Huh Yunjin x Reader

GENRE: fluff

TYPE: One Shot, Long Fic

INSPIRED BY: Make Me Happy-WheeIn

"And Zeus, with his mighty thunder in hand, ruled the sky and Olympus," you read, flipping to the next page of the storybook and showcasing the colorful pictures of Zeus.

It was a Saturday morning, and you were immersed in reading stories for the children at the hospital. As a child psychology major, you relished the opportunity to connect with different children each Saturday. Your love for children made spending time with them while earning extra credit a win-win situation.

"Zeus has a wife named Hera, the Queen of Gods," you continued, pointing to the illustrated photo of Hera on her throne.

"Sometimes Zeus made mistakes, like having other friends. Hera didn't like that, but they still ruled together on Mount Olympus."

“Ms. Y/N?” a cute voice squeaked from the circle of kids in front of you. It was a small girl with short blonde hair and thick glasses.

“Yes, Kayla?” you smiled at her.

“What is M-I-S-T-R-E-S-S-E-S?” Kayla squinted, trying to read from the book you were showing. The rest of the kids leaned forward, curious about the illustrations.

“M-I-S-T-R…” The word clicked in your head, and you looked at the little girl in shock. “Where did you learn that word?”

“There,” Kayla pointed at the bottom corner of the book with her small finger.

You quickly turned the book around to check the illustration. There, at the bottom, was a scribble of words written in black marker.

Friends? More like mistresses. LOL

“What the fuck?” you muttered under your breath.

This was one of the children’s books you brought from your department’s lounge, where they keep all materials used in class.

A chorus of oohs broke out around you at the sound of your mild exclamation.

“I mean, what the fuzz?” you hastily changed your choice of words, hoping the hospital staff didn’t hear what you just said. “What the fuzzballs.”

Luckily, the children giggled at that, immediately distracted when a boy named Jake decided to share the story about how he swallowed his cat’s fuzzballs and ended up in the hospital.

The storybook took you longer to finish reading as you made sure to check every page before showing the kids the illustrations. Thankfully, there wasn’t any more writing in the rest of the book. You covered the words with a Post-It before returning it to the lounge.

It happened again after a few weeks. You were reading a Dora the Explorer book to the children, and there it was, in the smack middle of the book, a sentence scribbled in the same scrawly, obnoxiously bolded handwriting.

“Can you find the chocolate tree?” you read before staring at the page in horror.

This chick is blind, FR.

The kids whispered, trying to understand what the handwriting meant.

“C-H-I-C-K…chick!” Carter, a red-haired boy, exclaimed loudly, proud of himself for being able to read it.

“There aren’t any chickens in Dora,” Kayla chastised him, shaking her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“There is too,” he huffed, pressing a smudgy finger onto the page. “It says here! C-H-I-C-K. Chick.”

“Well, there’s only the big red hen. No chicks,” Kayla insisted, standing up to grab the book from your hands. The situation was about to get worse in a few seconds as you saw Carter’s face redden in frustration.

“Okay! That’s enough story time for today,” you quickly stood up, snapping the book shut. “Who wants to play Monopoly?”

“ME! ME! ME!” The kids screamed in excitement, forgetting the book altogether. It was a relief that kids forget about things so easily.

You, on the other hand, did not forget about this.

.

.

.

.

“Someone keeps leaving nasty comments in the children's books,” you huffed, dropping the Dora book in front of your best friend, Chaeryeong.

You had found her sitting in front of one of the long tables, peacefully eating her lunch in your department’s lounge. The room was slightly crowded, filled with students doing their projects or chatting with each other before classes.

Narrowing her eyes at your rude entrance, Chaeryeong slowly took off her headphones and dropped her chopsticks.

“No hello beautiful?” she asked, rolling her eyes playfully. “Why are you reading children's books anyway? Are you seven years old or something?”

“I’m reading them for the kids at the hospital,” you said impatiently, flipping open to the page where the messy handwriting was located.

“See? This person keeps writing in these books! The kids keep reading them out!”

“This chick blind, for real?” Chaeryeong snickered after reading it aloud. “Well, this person has a good point. Dora IS blind as fuck.”

You huffed, annoyed at how unserious the raven-haired girl was. But before you could open your mouth, a soft chuckle came from the table next to yours. You turned your head to come face to face with the queen bee and the captain of the volleyball team, Huh Yunjin. She grinned at you as she casually leaned on her elbows, not hiding the fact that she was eavesdropping on your conversation as the rest of her friends were engrossed in another conversation.

“See? Even Yunjin unnie agrees,” Chaeryeong said, slyly bringing Yunjin into the conversation.

She knew about your little crush on the captain ever since freshman year. You were just too chicken to strike up a conversation with her, and she was flirty by default, breaking hearts left and right. You just didn’t want to go through the heartbreak, after seeing so many girls crying in the bathroom over her.

Your eyes met Yunjin’s chocolate ones, her bright gaze felt like it was penetrating your soul. People weren’t kidding about her beauty; she really was a sight to look at. You felt your face flush as her gaze never left yours.

“Yeah, she definitely needs to get herself some glasses,” Yunjin pushed her headband a bit higher to keep her orange hair out of her face. “But I support an unbothered queen.”

Yunjin let out a little laugh, her nose scrunching adorably. You couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by the way her full lips pulled back to show her glistening white teeth.

“Stop being gay,” Chaeryeong whispered, nudging you with her legs to wake you out of the trance.

Huffing in embarrassment and annoyance, you grabbed the Dora book and the rest of your stuff and started to put them into your bag.

“Where are you going?” Chaeryeong asked.

You could see the volleyball captain staring at you from the corner of your eye, and your ears flushed a deeper red.

“I’m going to find someone who understands how serious this situation is,” you ignored the soft snickers coming from both of the girls and turned around to walk out of the lounge.

“Let me know if you found someone who managed to get that chick a pair of glasses,” Chaeryeong called from behind you, laughter in her voice.

.

.

.

.

Cute. That was the first thing Yunjin thought when she saw you during the freshman orientation.

She was there to recruit people into the volleyball team when she noticed you, sitting in the second row, eyes barely open, mouth slightly agape as a few wisps of hair fell into your face when you started to doze off.

Ignoring the knowing looks of her teammates, she intentionally tried to get close to you, all but failing drastically. She ended up recruiting all of your close friends into the volleyball team, all but you. You were definitely not a land animal; that was all that Yunjin could say after watching you fall face-first onto the ground at any given chance.

But at least her efforts weren’t all gone to waste. Having recruited Chaeryeong and your roommate Yeji onto the team meant that she could see you in the bleachers in every game and often see you swing by during practice. Her delusional self convinced her that you were there to see her, but deep down she knew that you never even spared her a second glance.

Like today, you had once again rushed away from her as if she was the most menacing thing in the room, and you wanted nothing but to end the conversation with her. Was she really this scary? Or had you found out about her obsession with you?

“You should try to talk to her more, you know?” Chaeryeong said, raising her eyebrows as she watched her captain gaze after you leaving the room.

“Huh?” Yunjin quickly composed herself, leaning back in her chair. “With who?”

“Y/N. I know you like her.” The raven-haired girl said with a grin. “And I approve.”

“Pfft, I don’t even know her that well.” Yunjin whispered, lowering her voice to make sure her friends didn’t hear this conversation.

“I’m not Dora. I see how you look at her,” Chaeryeong pushed.

“I—I don’t look at her differently.”

Yunjin stood her ground, staring at Chaeryeong, ready to deny everything that came out of the younger girl’s mouth. But Chaeryeong wasn’t intimidated, shrugging nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“She finds your jokes in the books funny. Don’t let her reaction fool you.”

Laughing at Yunjin’s expression, Chaeryeon added, “I know your ugly handwriting.”

With that, the slender girl slipped her bag onto her shoulder and stood up, smiling mischievously at the blushing captain in front of her.

“Can’t believe it took you two years to make a move.”

.

.

.

.

Unconvincingly as it sounded, it really started with boredom.

Yunjin was alone in the student lounge last semester, skipping her least favorite class from Professor “Dead-Eye” Yoo and taking the liberty of finally having some alone time. Yunjin knew she was quite popular, being the captain and all, but sometimes she just wanted to go back to being that shy gamer girl she once was.

The lounge was deserted, and Yunjin flopped onto the sofa she sometimes saw you sitting on in the far-right corner. A couple of bookshelves were situated next to the sofa, completely filled with children’s books.

Scrunching her eyes in confusion about why there were so many books for kids when it was a university department lounge, Yunjin decided not to question it and got to read to kill time. But being attentive was not her strongest trait, so she soon relented to her immaturity and boredom.

Grabbing a sharpie from her bag, she started to leave dumb comments here and there in different books, as if she was the biggest book reviewer in the world. It was an immature and stupid thing to do, she knows. But at least it somehow managed to catch your attention, albeit months later.

God must’ve taken pity on her, watching her suffer through countless blind dates that her friends had arranged her to through her first two years of college, finally giving her the chance to know you better.

It was a few days after her encounter with you at the lounge with Chaeryeong, and she found you scribbling down in a brown notebook on the sofa next to the bookshelves again, this time alone. Deciding to brave herself just once, she took her breath and mustered all of her confidence before making her way towards you and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. She was going to take a chance and take Chaeyeong’s words as advice.

“Hey Y/N.” Yunjin gave you a boyish charming grin, her orange hair tousled perfectly across her leather jacket. She was effortlessly cool, and her sudden close proximity made your face heat up.

“Uh, hi, Yunjin-ssi.” You quickly bowed in respect.

“Please drop the honorifics.” The captain waved her hand, giving you a wink. “Just Yunjin is fine.”

You nodded, eyes flittering from Yunjin’s mesmerizing large ones to the record book in your hand. Unsure of what to do, you decided to awkwardly continue writing.

“What are you doing?” Yunjin slightly leaned towards you, her vanilla perfume invading your senses.

“Um... I-” You shook your head to gather your thoughts, “I’m keeping track of the books that were written on. We would have to replace them.”

“Ahh… the Dora book?”

“Yeah. I also found a new one this week, in the Ice Age books.”

“Really? What did it say?” Yunjin asked, trying to keep her face casual.

“It simply just wrote LIA next to Sid’s face.” You said, biting your lip to hold in your smile.

Yunjin, on the other hand, let out a booming laugh, enjoying the joke way too much.

“I’ll let Lia know she’s famous.” Yunjin said, after taking a few minutes to finally come down from her laughter.

Even though she was the one who wrote it, she still found it funny that her roommate, Lia, looked exactly like Sid the sloth when she was sleeping.

Trying to hide your grin, you said, “It’s not funny. The kids keep reading out the comments.”

The sight of your smiling made Yunjin’s heart soar. She was proud of herself for succeeding in making you smile, despite you not knowing it was her who left the comments. With this affirmation, Yunjin continued to make jokes with you as you talked for a bit. She would do anything to charm you, and she already had a plan hatched in her brain, something to do with your notebook.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.” The captain squeezed your hand as she saw her friends calling for her.

You were disappointed to see her go, but you knew that she had better things to do than talk to you. She was, after all, one of the most popular and busiest students in your major.

“See you.” You muttered, ears red at the feeling of her hand on yours.

The captain walked towards the door, before turning back and raising her hand as a goodbye in a goofy boyish way that made your heart flutter.

.

.

.

.

It happened again, but this time, it was in your record book. Again, in obnoxiously bolded and capitalized letters, the mystery person managed to annoy the hell out of you, but you couldn’t help but find a bit of amusement in them.

HI :)

They had written this in the smack middle of a new page in your notebook, wasting the entire page. Deciding to write back for the first time, you took out your pen and wrote a small line under their loud greeting.

Don’t write in my notebook :)

Thinking this was able to stop the culprit from writing anything else, you shut the book satisfied. Oh, how wrong you were.

The next day, you found a light pink post-it stuck on top of the original page.

BUT I WANT TO BE FRIENDS :(

Annoyed at the culprit, but also at yourself for finding them cute for using a post-it instead of just writing on your book.

No.

You wrote back, slightly hesitating before slamming shut the notebook altogether. Although intrigued and wanting to know who was behind the writing, it was probably best that you don’t encourage them.

“Getting ready to dive deep into another children’s book of yours?” A familiar voice broke you out of your thoughts.

Your heart couldn't help but lurch at the sight of the orange-haired captain smiling at you, her nose scrunched adorably.

“Yeah, any recommendations? I know you love these books.” You teased back, already comfortable with her presence.

Despite not really getting the chance to talk to her that much, she had this aura that made you feel calm and relaxed, as if you could trust her with anything.

“I’ll recommend one only if you read it to me.” Yunjin flirted easily, giving you a charming grin and wink.

Caught off guard at her response, your face turned a slight shade of pink. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, Y/N.” The taller girl laughed at your flustered state. “I used to read ‘The Jungle Book’ to my sister when she was a kid, and she loved it. Maybe the kids at the hospital would love it too.”

"You have a younger sister?” You asked. This was new information to you, but then again, you and Yunjin never really talked before this semester.

“Yeah, we have a really big age difference though. She’s 10 years younger than me.” Yunjin’s eyes glinted at the mention of her sister.

“She must be really happy to have you as a sister.”

“I hope so." Yunjin said with a sad smile, “I haven’t seen her in a couple of years. She’s still in the US with the rest of my family.”

“It must’ve been hard for you to move here all alone.” You hesitantly reached out your hand to squeeze the Captain’s forearm in comfort.

She gave you a grin at your touch, and your heart fluttered at how her eyes seem to twinkle whenever she met yours.

“I’m fine now.” She said, putting her other hand on top of yours. “I made a lot of friends, and also, I got the chance to meet you.”

The flirty queen-bee you knew was back. You cleared your throat to shake off the nerves she managed to give you and pulled back from the trance she pulled you into.

Quickly checking your watch as an excuse to avoid looking into her eyes again, you noticed it was almost five p.m., the time Chaeryeon left for practice.

“Don’t you have practice?” You asked.

“Nope.” Yunjin made a pop sound at the P, which you found adorable. “We have a game next week, so I gave the girls a two-day break.”

“You’ll be watching us, right?” She asked, her eyes hopeful.

You nodded, “I never missed a game. I’m Chaeryeon’s and Yeji’s number one fan.” You grinned, proud of yourself.

Yunjin merely pouted at this, “You should cheer for me sometime. I’m playing too, you know.” She nudged you.

You laughed, trying to shake off your nervousness at her blatant flirting. “You already have a lot of fangirls.”

Yunjin whined, begging, “I don’t know them, but I know you. None of my friends wear my number because they’re on the court with me.“

“I’ll think about it.“ you laughed at her antics. Although she was a year older than you, she managed to act like a little kid sometimes.

After talking (more like flirting on Yunjin’s side) for another while, Yunjin left to go to her part-time job at the diner, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The feeling she gave you messed up your thoughts, and you were worried that your old crush on her will be reignited.

She was just friendly. She thought of you as a friend. You convinced yourself. You needed to see her as a friend too, before you get your heart broken.

“Maybe I need other friends than Yunjin.“ you muttered to yourself before opening the notebook once more.

No.

You crossed out the word and wrote.

Fine. What’s your name?

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.

Turns out, the person behind the obnoxious block letters was worth talking to. You’ve been texting the mysterious person for the past few weeks, and they managed to entertain you and connect on a deeper level. Never getting a reply to their name, only with a doodle of a snake, you exchanged numbers without knowing each other's names, and it was better like that. To talk about your day anonymously.

You were, however, curious about the person behind the texts and writing. They were considerate, easy to talk to, and extremely funny. You honestly felt that you could be really good friends with them. From books to life goals, you could talk to them about anything and everything.

It was a bit unnerving how someone in your major knew all this about you, but at the same time, you felt that they were someone you could trust, and they felt the same way about you after sharing some of their family problems with you.

You noticed you were developing a sort of attachment to this person, as if they were your soulmate. You found yourself instantly texting back whenever the snake contact popped up on your phone, and when you were texting, you were re-reading your past conversations. They were a great way for you to get Yunjin off your mind, which you found to get harder every time she stopped by to say hello.

“You’re late, Shin.” Chaewon, the co-captain of the volleyball team, chastised a wind-swept Yuna as she slammed open the door to the locker room and hurried to change into her team uniform.

Yuna was the newest addition to the team and was also the cousin of Y/N. (As soon as Yunjin heard of this, she immediately treated Yuna with patience and additional care, not that she liked you or anything, just her showing affection to her juniors).

The volleyball team was getting ready for the final match before the semi-finals. They had an away game with a nearby school, and Yuna, being Yuna, had overslept and missed the bus to the game. Yuna quickly bowed her head in apology, and Chaewon simply patted her head in assurance and ushered everyone to warm up.

“What took you so long?” Yeji asked, “I thought Y/N said she would drive you instead.”

"She did. But it took her half an hour to get ready because she was busy giggling at her phone like a love-sick schoolgirl.” Yuna said, exasperation in her voice.

At that, Chaeryeon, who was standing near the two girls tying her hair, let out a laugh. “Yeah, she’s been doing that pretty often. She must have a crush or something.”

“You think so?” Eunchae, one of the tallest yet youngest players, chimed in, exposing the fact that she was eavesdropping.

“That’s new; I thought she would just end up being a single woman and adopt all of the kids in the hospital.” Yeji mused, happy that her roommate is finally interested in someone. Throughout the two years she lived with you, you seemed to show zero interest in love.

“Must be nice to be liked by unnie.” Eunchae said dreamily, causing the rest of the girls around her to fake gag and give a round of protest.

“Wish it was me instead.”

“Who are you dreaming about dating?” Yunjin suddenly appeared, wrapping her hands around the tall girl. “My baby manchae is off limits until she’s 40.”

The captain had returned from a quick discussion with their coach and had gone into the locker room to usher the girls out for warm-up.

“40? Do you want me to die single?” Eunchae furrowed her brows and pouted, “And besides, we were talking about Y/N unnie’s love life, not mine.“

“Y/N? What about Y/N?” Yunjin tried to ask nonchalantly, leading the girls out of the locker room.

“She has a crush on someone.” Chaeryeon said slyly, paying close attention to Yunjin’s reaction.

The orange-haired girl kept her face composed, but in reality, her heart was beating at the thought of you liking someone, that wasn’t her. A sense of hollowness and jealousy crept into her skin.

“That’s nice. Do you know who?”

The girls shrugged, and Yunjin decided not to push anymore. The way Chaeryeon looked at her was obvious enough to blow off her cover and reveal her affection towards you, and she was not keen on letting others know.

Putting on a smile so bright that could make any of the people in the crowd swoon, Yunjin tried to push back her thoughts and jealousy, waving to the people in the stand as the team entered the court.

Cheers came from all around her, cheering her name every time she sent the ball flying at deadly speed toward her rivals. She wasn’t called the Ace of SNU for nothing. Yet, as she scanned the crowds after every point earned, she hoped you would also be there yelling her name.

“Good game.” Chaeryeon whispered in Yunjin’s ear as they gathered together in a group hug to celebrate another victory.

The crowds were wild around them, chanting their names as they celebrated their ticket to the semi-finals.

“But you better step up your other game before it’s too late, captain.” The raven-haired girl gave Yunjin a grin before sauntering off to the stands, where you were hugging Yeji in celebration.

You were wearing Chaeryeon’s spare uniform, proudly displaying the Lee on your back, while waving a self-made Yeji and Yuna flag. You looked so cute with your hair in a ponytail, with two lines of blue drawn horizontally across your cheeks to represent SNU.

At that moment, Yunjin wished nothing more than to see you wearing her uniform instead.

She better step up her game.

.

.

.

.

So…have you ever been in love before?

You were late at night studying in the school library a few days after the game when your phone buzzed, indicating a text message. It was from your mystery friend. 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at their sudden question, before typing out a quick response. 

No, I don’t think so. Have you?

As their text bubble indicated typing, a full minute passed before their response came through.

No. 

Followed by another long pause. 

But I wish I did. 

Biting your lip in thought, you were unsure of what to make of this sudden confession from your friend. You were developing an attachment to them, which seemed foolish when you didn't even know what they looked like, let alone their name.

It was truly pathetic; the two people in college for whom you had feelings were the queen bee of the school, with a long line of admirers, and the other was some random faceless stranger about whom you knew everything and nothing.

What got you thinking about this? You typed back. 

A girl. But she has feelings for someone else. 

So your little mystery friend does have someone on their mind. You tried to push down your disappointment and the slight burn of rejection as you replied. 

Have you tried telling her how you feel about her?

No, I would probably scare her off or something. 

I’m sure you won’t. 

It took them another five minutes before they finally responded back. 

What about you? Is there anyone on your mind?

Yunjin, the fiery-haired girl, instantly came to mind. Recent interactions with her had given the impression of growing closeness. She took the time to chat with you in the student lounge, held your bag, walked you back to your dorm after study sessions, and even brought treats from the diner when her shift ended. Though it felt like more to you, the realization struck that she viewed you simply as a friend.

Yeah, this girl. But she sees me as a friend.

Yunjin's heart skipped a beat upon reading your reply. It confirmed Chaeryeon's statement – you had your eyes set on someone else. She pondered the possibilities, considering potential candidates. Was it the charming Shin Ryujin from the softball team? Perhaps someone from the hospital where you volunteered? Or could it be one of your close friends, like Chaeryeon or Yeji? The uncertainty left Yunjin feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Did you tell them how you feel?

No, I would probably scare them off or something. 

Despite her heartbreak, your text made her smile a bit. There you were again, teasing her by copying her sentence. 

I’m sure you won’t, pretty girl. 

How do you know if I’m pretty or not?

I just do. 

You couldn’t help but blush at their compliment. They always managed to say something earnestly that made your heart flutter, similar to the way Yunjin always seemed to have an effect on you. 

You should take this confidence and confess to the girl you like before it’s too late. What’s there to lose?

You have a valid point…

I’ll work on confessing to them before the end of the year, but only if you be my wingwoman. 

Your wingwoman? How? I don’t know anything about them. 

Just share with me the little things you like as advice. 

Deal. 

So…better start listing. 

Hmm, I’d say start with flowers. 

Oh, and little notes are pretty cute, too. 

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"The Ultimate Checklist to How to Get That Girl? Seriously?" Chaewon read over Yunjin's shoulder incredulously.

Flushing a deep red, the captain quickly slammed shut her notebook and pushed the short-haired girl away.

"Stop snooping!"

"You know you can just ask her out, right? Y/N." The shorter girl reached over to snatch the book from Yunjin, quickly scanning over the checklists.

Yunjin had managed to devise a checklist incorporating all the things you mentioned in your previous text conversations with her about your preference as her 'wingwoman’. She had compiled recommendations on what someone should do to win over someone's heart, hoping to win over yours. 

"I can't. She likes someone else." Yunjin said defeatedly, her shoulders sagging.

"Who can resist the Huh Yunjin charms? I'm pretty sure everyone would love to date you." Chaewon snorted, amused by how her seemingly always confident friend was so hung up on you. This was a first.

"Not Y/N."

Although teasing her friends was in her DNA, Chaewon couldn't help but feel bad for her friend. Yunjin looked lost (kind of like a kicked puppy, but she wasn't going to say that to her face), and as co-captain of the team, it was a rule that she would need to support their captain whenever they needed help.

"Find, I'll help you." Chaewon sighed, looking at the long list and preparing herself mentally. It was going to be a long few months.

"Let me call the girls for backup."

“Another gift from your secret admirer?” Yeji teased when she saw you enter the shared dorm with a tray of hot coffee.

You had just returned from the library, preparing for your final exams, and found yet another gift waiting in front of your door.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but your ears betrayed you by reddening. “There’s one for you.”

Yeji jumped up in excitement and went straight for the coffee, sighing contentedly as she sipped on it. “I’d just date them already.”

You had been receiving these little gifts for the past few weeks, and it was driving you crazy. Initially sweet, the mystery person never revealed themselves, making you suspicious of everyone. Additionally, you were concerned about how much they were spending on you. Although seemingly insignificant, the little gifts added up.

The first gift was a single rose and a typed note in front of your dorm room, a bit like a ransom note. The note included a cheesy pick-up line that you found endearing, despite yourself. Soon after came cute accessories, a new hair tie, and even a cute hippo plushie. Your admirer seemed to know a lot about you, even the things you lost. 

They gifted you things you had listed out to your mystery friend. Could your admirer and your friend possibly be the same person?

“Oh, by the way, Yunjin and the team are coming over to discuss our strategies for the championship game, is that okay?” Yeji mentioned casually, trying to hide her grin.

Chaewon had called her earlier, letting her in on Yunjin’s huge crush on you and the plan to sweep you off your feet.

Panic filled your eyes as you looked up from your phone. You were still dressed in your "bum outfit," as Yeji would call it, consisting of old sweatpants and an oversized Nike hoodie – definitely not presentable.

“What? When?” You quickly surveyed the room, noticing a small pile of clothes and rushing to stuff them in the laundry basket.

“In about…”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Now.”

At that moment, you pulled your hair out of its messy bun and ran your fingers through it in a rush. Leave it to Yeji to embarrass you in front of Yunjin.

Before Yeji could open the door, it was slammed open, revealing a snow-covered Chaeryeon with her cheshire grin, followed by Chaewon, Lia, Yuna, and Yunjin. Your eyes met hers, and you got lost once again in her warm brown hues.

She looked particularly good today, with her fiery orange hair tucked into a gray woolen hat and dressed in a red leather jacket. She gave you a toothy smile before closing the door behind her.

“Hey, stranger, it’s been a while,” Yunjin said, pulling you into a hug, engulfing you in her sweet lavender perfume. “I missed you.”

You immediately blushed at this, still not used to her flirty nature.

“We had lunch together last Saturday.”

“Yeah, three days is way too long,” she sighed dramatically, her arms still wrapped around your shoulders. Her eyes scanned your features, as if she was trying to memorize every freckle and blemish.

“If you two are done flirting, we would like to start discussing tactics,” Chaewon said, her lips curled into a teasing smile as she saw Yunjin immediately pull her arm off of yours and turn beet red in embarrassment.

“I…” Yunjin muttered, before giving up coming up with an explanation and plopped down onto the sofa.

You busied yourself with schoolwork as the girls squeezed into the makeshift living room and focused on their strategy plan for the upcoming games. You watched them with adoration; it wasn’t often that you saw them together except for their games, and you loved how sweet their dynamic was. Chaewon was the one who kept everyone focused, Lia and Yeji were the encouraging ones, and Yunjin was the planner. She led the gameplays and tactics, ensuring everything was on track. The older girls also babied Yuna and Chaeryeon, making sure they understood everything.

You didn’t know Chaewon and Lia that well; they were Yunjin’s friends. Still, you could tell that they were just as sweet and caring as the captain was. However, you couldn’t help but think of the comment your mystery friend left in the Ice Age book whenever you looked at Lia. She did look a bit like a sloth, but the cutest one ever.

Hence, you decided to text your mystery friend.

Lia does kind of look like a sloth. But cuter. 

As you sent out the text, a small buzz came from the living room. 

Cuter as in your type?

No. But you did her dirty by writing her name next to Sid. 

Another buzz. You furrowed your brows and looked toward the direction of the living room. 

Who IS your type then?

Someone funny, I guess. Goofy but smart. 

Buzz. It felt too coincidental. Your palms started sweating at the thought that you might finally discover who was behind those texts that accompanied you through long nights and motivated you.

Hmm…is there someone like that in our school?

Yeah, there is. 

As soon as you sent out a text, another buzz came from the living room. At that moment, you were convinced that your friend was one of the girls in the room.

Is it the person you mentioned you liked?

You silently leaned forward on your bed to peek at the girls obscured by the sofa, lying on their stomachs in front of a strategy board. You froze at the sight of Yunjin biting her full lip and looking at her phone, engrossed in whatever she was reading. The rest of the girls were talking with each other, none of them looking at their phones. 

Could it possibly be the orange-haired girl all along? The girl you've been texting about was the one receiving your texts. If they were Yunjin, then she would possibly be the one sending you your gifts.

The pounding in your heart was so loud, engulfing you in erratic thumps. You couldn’t even hear the girls talking; all you could focus on was the possibility that Yunjin was the person behind the texts. 

Deciding to leap in faith just this once, you texted back.

Yes. The captain of the volleyball team, do you know her?

Another buzz followed by the screen of Yunjin’s phone was enough to prove that she was indeed the person all along. Eyes scanning through the sentence you sent to her, Yunjin’s brown eyes widened, and she immediately threw her phone to the side, covering her face with her arms. She let out a muffled scream and kicked her legs in excitement, startling the rest of the girls.

You couldn't help but laugh at her adorableness. Putting on your headphones, you pretended to be studying while trying to calm your erratic heart. Muffled shouts and laughter could be heard from the girls, probably picking on their captain.

.

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.

.

For the first time in her life, it seemed that fate had taken favor in Yunjin. Having dedicated all of her time to school and volleyball, she never had the privilege of starting a relationship with someone. Volleyball itself took up most of her time, with her parents and her personal coach insisting on her becoming the best player in the league and eventually joining the national team of South Korea. She wasn’t unhappy with her life, but she wouldn’t call herself happy.

Sure, her friends set her up on several blind dates, but she never liked them enough to want something more. She was only interested in being the best at volleyball and being the best captain for the girls, nothing more.

That was, until, she met you.

She was enamored by you right from the start, with your shy smile and soft features. She wanted nothing more than to get to know you. After finally getting the chance to talk to you after two years, she had fallen for you, deep. All those late-night talks through text made her understand that you were more than a mere crush, more than any of the girls on those blind dates. The way you viewed the world made her want to become something more to you. She wanted to be included in your world.

Life started to mean more than just volleyball, and she noticed that you made her happy, actually happy. 

She hoped that you would give her the chance to do the same for you. Now, with the revelation that the person she worried so much about you liking was her, she was beyond the moon. She just hoped you wouldn’t be disappointed that she was the one behind the texts.

It was the Saturday after the eventful day, and Yunjin was nervous. She blamed it on the finals game they had tomorrow, but in reality, it was the first time she was alone with you after knowing that you liked her.

After running to you during her lunch break from her shift at the diner two months ago, she had established a weekly routine of getting lunch with you every Saturday. The diner she worked at was near the hospital she volunteered at, so grabbing lunch together before visiting the kids was another highlight of your week.

"Did something happen?" You asked as you sat across the captain.

You had arrived at the booth a while ago, and the captain hadn’t said much but to order. She was fidgeting with the straw of her iced coffee, bending it over repeatedly as she looked at anywhere but you.

"What? No!" Yunjin’s eyes flitted to yours, before quickly looking away again.

"Nothing’s wrong."

"Then how come you’re avoiding me?" You asked, slightly pouting.

Yunjin nearly kissed you on the spot at the sight of you pouting cutely.

She had been refusing to meet your eyes because she knew that the second she did, all defenses would fall, and she would just confess her love to you. It has been like that for the last few days, ever since she knew that you liked her back; she wanted nothing more than to have you in her arms. But she hadn’t thought of a plan on how to ask you out yet; she also had to confess to you that she was the one behind the texts. This scared her, worried that you would hate her for lying to you about not knowing who you were.

"I-I’m not." Yunjin stuttered, still refusing to look at you in the eye.

Before you could reply, the waitress brought over your food. You always got the same thing, blueberry pancakes with scrambled eggs on the side, while Yunjin always had her protein lunch filled with eggs, chicken, and tofu. It didn’t really look good, but Yunjin made sure her body was in the best shape for volleyball.

Today’s meal was slightly different. The waitress had also brought in a plate with two gingerbread cookies, both with cute red buttons and frosty smiles.

"We give out gingerbread cookies to our customers every year around Christmas time," the waitress explained, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "Enjoy!"

Yunjin watched you from the corner of her eyes as you excitedly took a few photos of the cookies.

"Look Yunjinnie, they’re holding hands!"

Yunjin wished she could hold hands with you.

"This one looks more like you." You giggled, moving the plate forward to show her.

The restaurant workers seemingly did not put their heart into decoration because the one you insisted that looked like Yunjin had lopsided eyes and a way out of proportion mouth, so wide that it went higher than the eyes.

"Are you saying I look ugly?" She said, pretending to be offended.

"What? No!" You interjected, blushing a deep red and pulling back the plate to inspect the cookies. "I meant that you always have a big smile like this, meeting your eyes."

That’s because I only smile like this when I’m with you, Yunjin thought.

"Here, try one." You broke the cookies apart and raised one of the cookies towards Yunjin’s face.

"I can’t. I have to stay in shape for tomorrow's game." Yunjin was taken aback at your forwardness. She was normally the one flirting, and you were the shy one. It seems that the roles have reversed today.

"C’mon. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt." You wheedled. "Please?"

Yunjin’s eyes finally met yours. Big mistake.

Your eyes, every so bright, were staring at her pleadingly, with a hint of something that Yunjin couldn't quite put a finger on. Was it affection? Adoration?

Nevertheless, the captain immediately gave in and took a bite of the cookie in your hands. She would always do anything for you.

"It’s…It’s good." Yunjin managed to say, her gaze still locked with yours.

You let out a satisfied grin and brought the same cookie to your lips, pausing slightly before taking a bite.

Yunjin’s brain went into a full system shutdown. YOU JUST ATE THE COOKIE SHE HAD. IT WAS AN INDIRECT KISS. I REPEAT. INDIRECT KISS.

“Mhmmm… It’s so good. Tastes like Christmas.” You said, finally breaking eye contact and looking at the rest of the cookies in front of you.

“It’s almost the end of the year.” You said softly, before looking up again at the flustered girl.

End of the year.

Yunjin’s heart went into rapid speed, and her blood went cold. Could you have possibly known that she was the one texting you? How else would you know the importance of the end of the year to her? She had promised you that she would confess to her crush before the end of the year if only you would become her wingwoman.

Shaking her head slightly to push out the possibility, she tried to forget about her ‘delusions’. You didn’t know. There was no way.

Thankfully, you changed the topic to her games tomorrow, saving her from embarrassing herself.

“Will you be at the game tomorrow?” Yunjin asked as she walked you to the hospital after lunch.

“Of course.” You said, gently holding onto her arm to keep yourself from slipping on the icy roads. (Yunjin’s heart still stuttered whenever you did that).

“I never miss a game, remember?”

“Will you-Will you be cheering for me?” Yunjin asked hesitantly.

“Hmm? I always cheer for you girls, pabo.” You laughed, nudging the taller girl.

“No, I mean,” Yunjin looked at your hands clutching tightly on her arm. Deciding to brave herself for the first time today, she asked, “Will you wear my number?”

She watched as your cheeks turn pink at her words.

“I don’t know…you have quite a lot of fangirls already.” You answered, hitting both of you with déjà vu.

“But none of them are you.” The orange-haired girl stopped walking, gently pulling you around to look at her.

To say you were in deep was an understatement. You had fallen hard for the captain, in love even. Her beauty and confidence were what had drawn you to her at first, but after getting to really know her through those texts, you had started to fall in love with her. Her mind, the way she thought, and her endless patience… she was something that was too good to be true.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked, searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation. You found none, only determination and softness in those honey-brown hues.

“I’m saying…” Yunjin paused, composing herself before she stared back into your eyes, “I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

“And it would be nice if I can take you out on a date.” She continued, her eyes gleaming hopefully.

“But only if you want to.” She hastily added.

You laughed at the last sentence. She was always so considerate, worried that she would be doing something without your consent. And that was what you loved about her.

“I would love to.” You said, before standing on your tiptoes to kiss the tip of her frozen nose. Yunjin froze at the feeling of your soft lips on her skin.

“But only if you win the game tomorrow.”

Yunjin let out a sigh of relief before gently wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. All those sleepless nights dreaming of you were worth it.

“Easy.”

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.

.

.

As the captain got ready for bed, a familiar buzz came from her phone. It was from you.

I better see your jersey in front of my door tomorrow, Huh Yunjin.

Yunjin let out a scream, scaring Lia, who was already passed out, and causing her to fall off her own bed.

"What the hell?" Lia groaned from the floor, looking up at her roommate.

"She knows it’s me. And she’s okay with it!" Yunjin said, giggling like a schoolgirl and dancing around. "She likes me back!"

Sighing, Lia slowly dragged herself up from the floor and laid horizontally back on her bed, too tired to crawl back under the covers.

"Go to bed, Yunjin."

Giggling to herself, the captain quickly texted you goodnight, receiving another sweet message from you.

As she went to turn off the lights, she looked at her roommate, sleeping with her mouth open and dressed in her greenish-grey fuzzy pajamas.

Lia did indeed look like a sloth. A cute one.

“Why does Yunjin-unnie have a sunburn?” Eunchae whispered, not so quietly.

“That’s not a sunburn, that’s the glow of love, manchae.” Yeji laughed, patting the taller girl’s head affectionately.

“Love? What?” Eunchae furrowed her brows, clearly out of the loop.

"Someone in the stands is rocking her jersey," Chaeryeon added, grinning mischievously, despite Yunjin shooting her a disapproving look as they continued warming up for the game.

“One-third of the crowd is wearing her number,” Eunchae whined, scanning the crowd again for Yunjin’s possible lover.

You waved shyly to the girls (mostly to Yunjin) as you moved to sit on the bleachers with your friends. You had found a box containing Yunjin’s jersey and a light blue bandana, along with a single rose in front of your dorm room when you woke up in the morning.

You had put on the jersey and decided to tie your hair with the silky bandana, and adding a dash of sparkling highlighter. You wanted to look your best for the captain.

Unable to resist herself, Yunjin made her way towards the railings near the bleachers, ignoring the teasing hoots coming from her members. You walked down a few levels to meet her at the other side of the railing.

“Hi,” she said cutely, her eyes sparkling in happiness as she checked you out. You looked so good in her jersey.

“Hi, Yunjinnie.”

“You look good.” She bit her lip and reached over to hold your hands in hers.

“You better win this game, Yunjin. I’m looking forward to our date.”

“Of course. I play better when I’m in a good mood.” Yunjin leaned over and pressed her lips on your forehead.

“And you make me happy.”

.

.

.

.

“Aw man...” Eunchae said sadly, watching her captain and you cuddling up together. “I wanted to date Y/N-unnie.”

“You’re too young for dating, Hong Eunchae.” The rest of the girls said in unison, before grabbing the maknae away from the scene.

It's a long one!

A bit of fluff for Christmas :)

Thoughts?

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 28 - Protect

Content includes: Trein and reader, platonic (father child duo), Crowley being horrible as usual, protective Trein

Ever since you started his class, Trein has been keeping an eye on you. You and your friends are naturally known to cause trouble, so he has to make sure you aren’t disrupting his class.

However, the more he watched over you, the more fond he became.

Trein has a soft spot for children. It’s why he became a teacher after all.

You remind him a lot of his daughters, strong and kind and caring. You’re surprisingly good at taking care of your friends, at least attempting to keep them out of trouble when you can. It’s not always successful, but it’s the thought that counts.

It’s rare that he has a favorite in one of his classes. Usually, he cares for all his students equally, but you’re a special student in his eyes.

Because of this, Trein finds himself being much more lenient with you. When he’s grading papers, he’s always more forgiving when you make small mistakes, as long as it’s nothing major. In class, he never scolds you if he sees you dozing off, knowing you probably had a long night handling some issue with a fellow student.

And, most importantly, Trein always seems to be the first to defend you whenever he senses trouble.

Today was yet another faculty meeting. Crowley was going on and on about something no one really cared about. Crewel was busy grading papers, Vargas was outlining a workout routine for the Spelldrive club, and Sam wasn’t even present.

Trein tried to listen, knowing they would all get an earful from Crowley if no one was paying attention.

Then, Crowley mentions you, and that certainly gets Trein’s attention. Crowley goes on to give a long list of various responsibilities he plans on passing onto you, responsibilities that should be his to deal with. He gives some excuse about needing to “free up his own schedule for more important matters” and how “this will be a good learning experience for you”, but Trein isn’t buying it.

He, as well of the rest of the staff, knew how much Crowley pushed onto you. None of them like it, but it’s impossible to convince Crowley to back off once he’s set his mind on something.

Trein continues to listen, upset at how much Crowley is planning on giving you. You’ve already fallen asleep in class twice this week, and he knows you can’t possibly handle anymore stress.

Eventually, he’s had enough, and he stands up glaring at Crowley. This grabs the attention of his coworkers, and they all watch in stunned silence as Trein yells at Crowley, calling him every name under the sun as he explains just how tired you are and how you deserve a break.

Crowley gives a weak excuse, and Trein easily dismisses it, continuing to scold him.

It’s understandable how shocked everyone is. Even when he’s upset, Trein is never one to lose his temper under normal circumstances. It’s a bit startling, but there’s no denying that it wasn’t deserved. Everyone knows just how fond he’s become of you, practically treating you like his third child.

When Trein is finished, there’s a few moments of stunned silence as everyone processes what just happened. Then, Crowley looks away, awkwardly coughing as he thinks of what to say. His voice is weak, but he does make some comment about how, since he’s so generous and kind, he supposes he’ll give you a break.

Trein sits back down, feeling a bit embarrassed about his outburst. He can see Crewel smirking out of the corner of his eye, and he knows he’s going to be cornered by him later for a gossip session.

Even so, he doesn’t regret it. He will always protect you if given the chance. You’re the obvious favorite, and he’ll do everything within his power to make sure you’re taken care of while at this school.

[spiderrmax]

raccoon & friends x sidekick reader

synopsis: headcanons about how i imagine the raccoon & friends would react to having a sidekick! author's note: freedom pals will eventually get their own post :) also, like all my other works this isn't proof read if you see any mistakes no you didn't.

The Raccoon

The way you become his sidekick is probably out of your hands. Since he sees himself as the leader and you as the new kid (which, to be fair, you are), he feels like he has to take you under his wing.

He acts as if it’s a chore, but it is mostly a front. He’s excited to train you, and he genuinely cares about your powers.

Following the events of the game, The Raccoon shows an obvious soft spot for the new kid, and this amplifies when he is “forced” to protect you

The Raccoon doesn’t go on a lot of solo missions that require fighting, he is mostly looking for intel. You are mostly left on guard duty while he steals whatever he was looking for.

He doesn’t like telling you things, but he always caves and tells you anyway. He feels like you listen to him more than the other members, and it’s very obvious he likes you the most. (Similar to how the New Kid gets new classes in the game.)

When, however, the two of you are in battle, he is extremely overprotective. It’s not like you can’t hold your own, he just hates watching you take a punch, which is inevitable. 

You know how in the games characters can be enraged by certain attacks? The Raccoon will hyper focus on the enemy who leaves you bleeding. He doesn’t stop until the enemy is down, so when making battle plans you have to count for his rage.

After battle he will complain about you getting hurt, (“Jeez, if you’re going to stay my sidekick, you need to get better in battle.”) but he won’t let you leave his base without him bandaging you or at least giving you some sort of healing item

Gets jealous if you have to go on a mission without him. Always puts up a fight, that you shouldn’t be without him. Will threaten the superhero you are pairing with for the mission, making them promise to keep a good watch on you. Then will make sure your next mission is with him

Human Kite

Unlike The Raccoon, Human Kite doesn’t even propose the idea of having a sidekick. It’s you who proposes the idea, admitting you think you two make a pretty good team as he is a range fighter where you tend to fight close up.

He’s so flustered that he says yes and then flies off. (He’s so used to people mocking his power/superhero identity that you admitting to admiring him was surprising.)

When Cartman finds out that you asked specifically for Human Kite he tries to persuade you to join him instead; you decline, and Human Kite can’t help but smile at your dedication to being with him.

He takes the role of mentor so seriously. When on missions, you are always in Human Kite’s field of sight. He is always prepared to fly off if the fight is too large for the both of you, but you are too stubborn and will fight anyone who plans to attack.

Constantly is having to heal you on the field. He knows that you aren’t going to die from a few hits, but the guilt of your injuries is heavier now that you are under his protection.

Although, he does agree you two make a good team. You do most of the damage due to the close combat, which allows for Kyle to keep you standing with his healing powers.

He isn’t as dramatic about attacking the enemies that hit you as Cartman is, but will shoot his laser eyes at them at the next opportunity. 

Human Kite is also great for morale. He constantly is motivating you on the battlefield, supporting you as you attack, with small words of encouragement. 

Doesn’t mind if you have to go on missions without him, with your guys’ different skill set and all, but worries so much. Will meet you outside the base to check for any major injuries when you return, scolding you for being so reckless as he wasn’t there to take care of you. 

The Flash

The Flash, similar to Human Kite, has never really desired a sidekick. He always works alone, due to others tending to slow him down. He only really asks for help when it’s dire.

Presuming you are a speedster class hero, he is down to have you on his team! His missions are gaining intel, similar to Cartman’s, and he appreciates sending you on smaller quests that he knows you can tackle due to your similar powers.

Not to say, he wouldn’t accept you if you had selected another class, but there are some downfalls for his main missions. The two of you are a killer duo on the field though, balancing each other's strength and weaknesses 

The Flash always double checks areas before you go in because he knows he can go undetected

After you guys have been working together, anytime he goes on a solo mission he is very aware of how lonely it is. Will go and crack a joke, and only then remembers you aren't there. He gets solo missions done faster, but that doesn't mean he enjoys them

Will race you around for fun! Loves showing off his speed (especially if you aren't a speedster). 

When you're injured and he's forced to carry you back, he speeds up; adrenaline rushing. He hates seeing you injured, and he most likely doesn't carry healing items due to them slowing him down. 

The biggest perk of being his side kick is you are not bound by the limits of the Fastpass. He will take you anywhere (if he isn't busy). The Raccoon complained about this once, but The Flash did not care enough to stop the special treatment. 

Super Craig

Considering he is a brutalist, he'd benefit most from a sidekick who isn't in that class.

However! He did not want a sidekick at first. Unlike Human Kite and The Flash, he saw it as a waste of time. He despised working with people, and would flip the Raccoon off when he tried partnering him up. (Of course, he works with the other heroes. It is also begrudgingly)

So, the first time you ask, he says no. He’s blunt, and doesn’t try to humor you. He has no reason to think you following him around would benefit him in the slightest.

It’s not until he’s in true battle with you – not a small squabble with criminals easily defeated – does he realize how beneficial it is to have you. Where he is often unprepared, you carry items that change the course of the battle, and you willingly share them with him too! You shoot from afar while he’s close-up, and it’s the first time he was thankful someone was there in battle with him.

He has to suck up his pride to reapproach you with the offer, but luckily for him, you don’t torment him with how his backtracking on what he previous said.

He is very silent when you are working together. If you come up with a plan he will follow it, and may even help modify it so it works more efficiently, but he is very quiet on missions. This helps them run smoother; however, after, he is willing to entertain any questions or small talk you have. It may be short responses, but he does enjoy how you fill the once empty night.

Super Craig carried healing items before, due to his close combat nature. However, with working with you, he carries even more. Or, he’ll give you some before you leave on missions so he isn’t weighed down by them. Either way, your health comes before his, and he would not hesitate to give you aid even if he also requires bandaging. 

The Raccoon hates how he has a sidekick. Believes that Craig is the lamest superhero due to his lack of care in concealing his identity. Craig just flips him off anytime he complains, saying that it’s not his fault you didn’t want to work with him.

Mosquito

Mosquito, like the Raccoon, approaches you about it first!

The two of you have been in battle before – especially due to his kryptonite. Despite being charmed and fighting poorly, he can recognize your strength. You have nothing to lose when you are approached with this offer, so luckily for his pride, you say yes.

Despite how he is meant to be making most of the decisions, as comes with the Superhero title, he is always looking for your guidance.

He never makes a choice unless he has thought it out with you. A plan will not be enacted unless he has run it by you and you have done all of the changes you think are necessary.

He also gets extremely nervous when you become injured. He isn’t the strongest hero, and often feels like your sidekick, so seeing you bleeding or limping creates a lot of panic for him.

Mosquito is prone to emotional outbursts – if a mission becomes too stressful, he’s hurt, you’re hurt, it’s late, anything can set him off, really. He needs you to be level-headed, and he would work best with someone who isn’t quick to react emotionally. New Kid in game is often practical, and a similar personality would mesh well for Mosquito.

The Raccoon often sends Mosquito on simpler missions (due to knowing how Mosquito cracks under pressure) but will send you on more complex missions. Mosquito cries so much when you are gone, nervous about what you are doing, if you’re okay. When you return home – after being gone no longer than a day, at the most – he is blubbering in your shoulder that he missed you. He’s very dramatic.

Captain Diabetes

Following along with the game, you are paired up with Captain Diabetes after he is assigned a complex mission.

This isn’t to say he is disappointed! Captain Diabetes is so excited to have you on his team, and takes pride in guiding you along the way.

He is so protective – even if you are technically stronger than he is. He won’t let you into a room without him entering it first and scouting the area out.

Is also really prepared, in comparison to the heroes who had to shift their behavior to count for you. He has snacks and drinks due to his diabetes, and has no problem sharing his extras with you if a mission drags on longer.

Tends to take control on missions, but is willing to listen if the situation isn’t dire. He respects you as his side kick, but he is mostly used to doing things alone. Your input is respected, he just often forgets to ask for it.

Similar to Craig, he would work best, for balance, with a blaster or speedster (or anyone with range.) He takes a lot of the hits, so strong damage from afar helps shift the course of battles.

Panics the first time you are injured and ends up forgetting to hand you a potion until you reach up to grab it from him. He gets really flustered after that, not used to being so frazzled in a mission.

Captain Diabetes is one of the better superheroes to sidekick with! He is a good balance of strong and capable but also respectful.

When your mission is done, and you aren’t technically assigned to him anymore, he approaches you and asks if you two can still work together anyways. He stutters a bit, and blushes when you nod your head ecstatically. 

Bonus! Call Girl

Call Girl isn’t seen as a superhero by most, so you have even less respect as her “sidekick”

Realistically, Call Girl doesn’t let you or others call you by that. She finds it a bit demeaning, and doesn’t keep you as her equal. You two are partners in her eyes.

The two of you don’t often do missions together either. Call Girl prefers to stay behind the scenes to pull the strings. It’s you who is often fighting when it is necessary.

However, you aren’t alone on the streets. Call Girl has you carry a phone she can track at all times, and she occasionally (when not extremely busy) will check the traffic cameras near your location.

Since she can’t always be there with you, she constantly is reminding you to take food, medicine, and water since she can’t carry extras.

Will scold you if you return to her injured, but will never not be the one to bandage your wounds. She is delicate as she covers them, and although her words might come off as mean, her eyes tell a whole different story.

When she begins gaining credibility, and is in fights with you more often, she is always there to protect you. Similar to Cartman, she gets angry with those who attack you, but it doesn’t cloud her judgement (she just hits harder, or leaks more embarrassing information.)

She has the best strategies! Always makes them with your strengths and weaknesses in mind. Occasionally, she forgets to ask for your input, mostly due to being excited or deeply invested in what she is planning. She won’t be upset if you interject with what you think, especially if it is something she may not have thought of.

If she sees you in danger on the cameras, or she is with you and a small battle becomes much larger, she will always jump in. Although she always tries to have a plan, she cannot account for anything and will be there whenever you call her.

[tofuxtea]

𝟕:𝟎𝟒 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — murdoc (2016) x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, explicit, reader needs something, murdoc wants something in return, oral (fem!receiving) murdoc is an asshole, hair pulling, quickie (?), face fucking, panty stealing, murdoc uses readers panties, lowkey nose kink lol, clit sucking, tongue fucking, slight overstimulation

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — NOT PROOFREAD! literally stayed up til 7am to finish this bc i refused to not finish it. i had this idea when i watched like the second episode he was in and i couldnt get it out. also i need more david dastmalchian esp jack delroy, murdoc, johnny, and james lewis moots pleasepleaseplease

you were pissed. that much was obvious when you stormed into the prison with a slim folder between your tense fingers and a scowl etched into your typically stoic features.

you had demanded the guards get him into the interrogation room before you got there and told them to keep away from the door for the next hour. though they weren’t allowed to do so, they refused to fall into your vicious crosshairs.

they did as they were told, and the second you swung open the door to the stuffy, metal room you were met with a smug grin and taunting stare.

neither of which wavered even when you slammed the manilla folder onto the table in front of him and used that same hand to backhand him right across his cheek. your fingers closed around the collar of his plain white shirt before he could fully process the strike and you forced his body back upright. his handcuffs rattled with the motion. the proximity should have scared him.

“you sold us out?” your voice bounced off of the walls like a gunshot had rung out. but murdoc didn’t flinch. instead, his smile steadily grew until he was laughing in your hands.

honestly, you should have expected this. the consequences of trusting a sociopathic assassin like him. known for lying about any and everything, completely indifferent about who he hurts and the amount of chaos he creates.

you made the stupid mistake of placing what should have been the satisfying wrap-up to a very important mission in his hands and ended up getting double crossed, and your coworker and good friend almost killed. in whatever time murdoc had between your meeting with him and what was supposed to be a surprise confrontation, he gave away every last detail to whoever knew of your connections with him.

luckily, the phoenix foundation had never known a loss thanks to macgyver. he narrowly managed to flip the score and gain the upper hand in a heavily disadvantaged fight, giving your team just enough room to make just a few arrests. the rest were able to escape.

but despite the half victory, you knew it wouldn’t happen every time. so you had to remind your little informant who he belonged to.

your hold tightened on his shirt, and finally his cuffed wrists rose as a meek defense. “oh, come on sweetheart. i’m flattered you thought so highly of me, but i’ve told you before. my service only goes to the higher bidder now.” his voice was calm and condescending. it pisses you off.

you held him still for several seconds, debating on painting his cheekbone purple before shoving him back into his chair. it was so forceful, you heard the thin legs grit and scrape against the ground. murdoc chuckled lowly. “you’re strong for such a small thing, aren’t you?”

your eyes shot daggers into his own, but you control yourself. the team would only fall into deeper shit if you pushed him into a non-verbal state. they were relying on you, even if they had no idea you had come back here.

“you’re going to tell me who these people are, and where they might’ve gone.” you instructed, voice low and sharp. murdoc’s eyebrows twitched upwards as you flipped the folder open and spread several papers onto the table.

he glanced down at them, eyes shifting left and right like he was tracking a moving dot. “need i remind you? again?” his empty brown eyes came back up to you. his smile returned. “why should i?”

right. payment. in truth, you had shown up completely empty handed, boldly praying that you could get him to comply and the answers would merely fall out of him. maybe a punch or two. but this was murdoc. he felt nothing.

your jaw tightened when you came up with nothing. he seemed to sense that before you could say it and he scoffed out a laugh. “oh, then i’m afraid you came all this way for nothing, sweetheart.”

that was the second time he’d called you that. it felt almost dehumanizing coming from him, especially paired with the not-so-subtle observation he stole of your figure. though, it seemed to strike something in him, and the corner of his lips lifted.

“you know, i might be willing to settle for a second place offer.” murdoc held your gaze with a newfound intensity, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. dealing with many men in your profession, you knew that look all too well.

your stomach lurched. though you couldn’t tell if it was in a nauseating or interested way, seeing as your stomach suddenly tensed so badly it really could have been either. the man was attractive, there was no denying that. but still, you’d never pictured a situation like this with him before.

murdoc tsked at your shock. “i have needs.” he said matter-of-factly with a small shrug. his handcuffs clinked against his chair.

“i thought you had to be human for that.” you shot back.

every bone in your body told you to pack the file back up and leave him hanging. that was what your best judgment was screaming at you to do. not to entertain a maniac like him and put yourself at such a risk. but for some reason your feet were glued to the floor. you couldn’t move.

murdoc actually looked offended by your words, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “i can be as human as you need me to be. just say the word.” his voice dropped, suddenly teetering towards gravelly. “you need something, i want something. my prices really don’t get this low, you know.”

knowing murdoc, his idea of ‘needs’ was bound to put you in some compromising position. you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t. but the way he was looking up at you with what could only be described as pleading eyes forced your refusal back down your throat.

then, his lips spread into a victorious grin. you noticed his sharp canine fangs for the first time. “good girl.” he breathed. he shifted to face you, reaching out to inch you closer to him with one hand. the distance between you two was already microscopic, but it got even thinner as he gently eased your legs in between his parted knees.

the chain that bound his wrists together granted him far too much leeway, you noticed when he planted his hands on either side of your waist.

your clammy palm pressed onto the table’s surface beside you to balance yourself, finding your guard was beginning to slip away. a heavy sigh escaped from your nostrils and your eyes squeezed shut while you took in your position.

you could back out now, you thought. there would be no shame in it. you’re only caught up in the moment now. he stunned you. that was all. you didn’t have to do this. you didn’t want to do this, you corrected, more loudly in your head this time.

murdoc’s fingers began to massage your hips over the skirt of your form fitting black dress, drawing you out of your meditative space. your eyes found his when they snapped open, and murdoc hummed.

“no need to worry, sweetheart. i know what i’m doing.” like that made you feel any better. he also knew what he was doing when he killed dozens of people.

you let a sigh slip past your lips when his hands traveled downward, inching towards the hem of your dress. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say there were two guards behind that door. but there isn’t, is there?” he asked lowly and knowingly, shooting a glance over to the locked door you had come in from.

your response was reluctant. if you told him he was right, he could easily use his position to overpower you and get out. but if you let him believe the guards were there doing their job, would he stop? you looked down at him, then down where his hands were gently massaging your upper thighs.

“no, they’re not.” you replied truthfully.

“good.” murdoc quickly replied. he moved you so that you stood in front of the table. your expression shifted to one of curiosity. “you can be as loud as you’d like.”

your face flushed hot at his words. how he said them so casually and cockily despite being (almost) completely at your mercy.

his fingers hooked onto the bottom of your dress and pulled it up to your waist, sighing with admiration as he took in the sight of your black panties. you gasped at the abrupt exposure, wanting to pull the bunched up fabric back down your thighs. but the sudden sensation of murdoc’s fingers rubbing at the dampened crotch of your underwear caught you off guard and you let out a whine.

“that’s it,” murdoc groaned when your thighs instinctively parted wider for him. he traced up your wet folds through the thin fabric, stopping at your clit to circle it. your chest filled with a sharp gasp and you cried out, legs going near slack. “good girl.”

your hips bucked shamelessly into his fingers, desperately trying to match his steady rhythm. “shit, shit,” you gasped, fingers curling around the edge of the table. your head fell back between your shoulders, strained whines falling from your lips.

murdoc quickly stole your building-up orgasm when he took his hand away to slide your panties down your legs and plant himself onto his knees before you. he whisked the garment away but you didn’t entirely care. the sight of him made you blink, realizing what he was about to do.

this was what he meant by wanting something? honestly, you had expected him to bend you over the table or have you straddle him on the chair.

“go on.” he gently nods towards the table behind you. hesitantly, you pull your dress down to cover your ass before hoisting yourself up onto the edge. you wince at the cold that seeped through the thin fabric meant to protect you. the rest of it bunched up at your hips.

murdoc’s hand slipped behind your thigh, holding it in place, the chain lightly digging into your skin as he brought his other one up to rub at your inner thigh. you waited for him to tend to your aching cunt again, but it never came.

you looked down at him, growing irritated. “what do you need me to do?” he asked far too sweetly for your liking. you glowered at him, but he didn’t give in. “don’t forget, you’re the one who needs something.”

bastard. he was going to make you say it out loud. humiliate you for a little bit, even if he was painfully hard in his orange jumpsuit. he had patience like no other, so he would get his way.

you swallowed what was left of your pride and responded, “please, make me come.” your words held bite and lacked the lust that coursed through you. and although murdoc looked like he was going to make you answer correctly for a moment, he shrugged.

“since you asked so nicely.” he said sardonically before he planted his mouth onto your cunt. the response was immediate, a startled cry of his name falling from your lips and your thighs tensing around him.

his tongue delves into your cunt, working you slowly and skillfully. you press a shaky hand to your mouth to try to keep yourself relatively quiet, but it’s like he knows exactly how you touch yourself at home in bed. he’s hitting every spot, and the vibrations of each of his moans make your back arch.

“murdoc—” his name sounded so strange when you weren’t cursing it to hell and back. “—fuck, don’t stop,” your hips rolled against his mouth, the tip of his nose prodding at your clit. you risked it and carded a hand through his hair, taking a handful of dark locks and tugging. he moaned, louder this time, and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on your thigh.

you watched as his eyes fluttered shut, practically losing himself in your pussy. he shifted to sucking on and licking at your clit, reveling in the way your cries got higher and more frequent, and how your body writhed wildly against his face. then he’d move back to devouring you, messily and loudly.

your hold on his hair went icy and you pushed him deeper into your cunt, thighs spreading impossibly wider. murdoc whined at the assertion, peering up at you through hooded eyelids.

the sight was obscene, burning itself into your vision forever. the feeling would, too. you hadn’t received anything like this in years, especially not from your silicone and rubber replacements at home.

it’s then that you notice that he’s breathing too hard — or rather, moving far too much — and that he’s slowed down significantly. and that his hands have left both of your thighs and had gone back to his lap. one still loosely held your calf, you realized, but the other worked at his stiff cock. you couldn’t see it, only the rapid up-and-down of his fist.

it wasn’t because of his jumpsuit, which he had worked open at some point, but because also in his hand was your panties. it should’ve disgusted you. watching murdoc jerk himself off and using your panties to do it.

but instead your breathing went ragged and you moaned. “fuck, fuck, murdoc!” he groaned in response, his tongue delving into your pussy in slow, deep drags. he didn’t care that you’re fucking his face now, or that he can’t breathe. he was chasing his own high, fisting his dick with your panties and listening to your relentless cries.

you cursed and cried out as the coil tightened in your gut, feeling like your body was about to explode if he didn’t stop. you didn’t want him to. so you held his mouth against your cunt, hips jerking sporadically as you finally came on his tongue. you felt murdoc’s lips curve into a smirk against you, but you didn’t have the strength to care.

instead, you let him fuck you with his tongue through your blinding orgasm, gently rolling your hips in time with his languid thrusts. you tilted your head and peered down at him, watching him get himself off with your underwear.

you wished you’d worn a sexier pair, but the stirring in your stomach was still there. just knowing they were yours.

a weak moan slipped from you when the sensitivity started to catch up with you. murdoc kept going, still licking up your first orgasm. “holy shit, murdoc,” you slurred, a second orgasm quickly building.

your head fell back and your fingers ran through murdoc’s hair, tousling it even more. but he persisted now, shifting to messily work at your clit. the noises were obscene, and the shame was beginning to set in, but once you looked down and caught his gaze, it was gone.

his nose poked at your abdomen while he sucked on your sensitive nub, and spit and cum glistened around his mouth. you held the contact for only a moment before you came for a second time on his tongue, and telling from the trembling moan he let out right after, he did too.

he pulled away after a second, both of your heavy panting filled the room. you could barely hold yourself torso up, you couldn’t even imagine standing up yet. so you stayed propped against the edge of the table while murdoc cleaned himself as best as he could.

“you can keep them.” you mumbled before he could even try to give you your panties back. but the man only blinked at you.

“i know.”

the anger from before threatened to return. god, he was such an asshole.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a smug smirk as he wiped your cum from his face with the back of his hand. the action made you gulp, and the way he was staring at you, still on the ground, forced you to your feet and to the other side of the table.

you had to put distance between you and him or you’d end up shoving his face right back between your legs again. and you would rather die than have murdoc know that you wanted him to tongue fuck you again.

“right, now, can you give me what i need?” you asked, hurrying to rearrange the shuffled papers on the table.

murdoc got back up into his chair, watching you compose yourself with amusement. “that depends, sweetheart.” he replied. “what do you need? names or another round?”

did this in one sitting ur welcome. god i love david dastmalchian. so much. also i might write a part 2 to this.

[lunajay33]

Just Us🩶Part.2

Summary: In a world full of walkers y/n was able to escape with her best friend, but maybe that friendship turns into something more

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This story starts when the group is on the road after Terminus but I’m gonna make y/n and Carl 18 just to speed along the story!! This is also my first Carl Grimes series! This story includes 18+ scenes, pregnancy and more

Part.1<-

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week now since we got to Alexandria, we were still settling in, a few of us were still on guard but it was better than being out there, constantly in fear and always hungry, now we had food and a home

I was sitting on the porch with Judith in my lap as I rocked the chair back and forth as she played with a little stuffy someone from the community gave to her, Daryl was sitting against the railing tinkering with his cross bow, it was silent between us mostly, I always found comfort around Daryl he just gave that silent peace that I desperately needed sometimes

Judith was babbling as she pushed the bear in my face

“Oooo you like the bear sweetie?” I said taking it from her and wiggling it around as she giggled

She calmed down holding the bear and resting against my chest

“She really likes ya” Daryl said from his spot

“I’m glad, I’d do anything for her, do you wanna hold her?” I asked

“Nah don’t wanna get ‘er dirty” he said motioning to his greasy dirty hands

We heard voices close so we both looked to the street on alert, it was Carl and this girl I learned was Enid, Carl started talking a lot about her a few days after we came here and it was starting to eat at me, I noticed him drift a bit away from me, he wouldn’t be affectionate as much, I know we aren’t official but it sure felt like it and now he was interested in the new shiny toy

They were walking down the street right the house, I sighed biting my lip to prevent the built up emotions from overflowing

“Who’s that?” Daryl asked

“Enid, Carls been hanging out with her a lot, I’ve seen them climb the wall, I’ve barely even seen Carl much anymore” I said as I rubbed Judith back as I noticed her falling asleep

“They together?” He asked and it made my heart clench

I looked down not wanting to talk about this anymore

“Umm I think I’m gonna go for a little walk, are you okay here?” I asked standing up slowly as to not wake Judith held tight to my chest feeling her little hands unconsciously grip at my shirt

“ ‘m fine, ‘m here if ya need somethin’” he said going back to work

I left walking along the streets enjoying this moment with Jude, what if Carl really moved on, what if he only saw me as a best friend and now that there was actually another girl our age he wanted her, was I not good enough?

I sat on the curb under a tree for shade, I heard the little birds chirping and felt the gentle breeze blow through my hair as Judith curled in closer to me, I took the little blanket from my shoulder and draped it ontop of her

I found peace alone sometimes but my mind spiraled quickly, Carl always kept me grounded and now that he was off doing god knows what I was here thinking about everything

In the middle of my thought Judith woke looking up at me with those big wonderous eyes

“Mama” she babbled and my heart swelled, this beautiful little baby saw me as her mother and it just reminded me that I’d probably never get to have one of my own but for now I would cherish her

Tears sprung from my eyes running down my cheeks before I was interrupted

“Hey sweetie you okay?” I looked up to see Michonne standing over me with a worried look

I wiped my face and nodded

“I’m fine”

She sat next to me wiggling her finger in front of Judith as she tried to grab Michonne finger giggling

“It’s Carl isn’t it?”

Was it really that obvious, but I mean Michonne always noticed everything

“I’m losing him”

“There’s no way you could lose him y/n, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you”

“Use to, not anymore”

“He’s a boy, he’s gonna realize his mistake and that you’re the only one right for him just give it time”

“But I don’t want him to realize I’m the one after he’s given everything to her, he should just know, I know……” I said as I handed Judith to Michonne

“I just wanna be alone right now I’m sorry” I left going to the watch tower that no one really used

I swear everytime I tried to get away Carl jus plagued my thoughts, usually I’d love it thinking of our moments together but now all it brought me was this throbbing pain in my chest

I stayed in the watch tower until the sun was setting watching the few walkers would wander across the road and back into the trees dissapearing from sight

Groups Pov

Michonne, Rick and Daryl were standing around the island in the kitchen catching up on the days work

“Have either of you talked to y/n lately?” Michonne asked worried

“Chatted with her today, seems upset” Daryl said as he picked at his nails

“What’s going on?” Rick asked confused

“Really you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what is she okay?” Rick asked

“It’s Carl, been running around with that Enid girl, haven’t you seen he’s been running after her like a puppy and totally forgetting about y/n?” Michonne said upset that Carl would actually tear you like that

“I guess she has been asking to have Judith more and it’s just been them when I see her, never with Carl, damn kid” Rick said pushing his hair back in frustration

“Nothing we can really do we just gotta be there for her, kid might come around” Daryl said hoping for the best outcome

Y/n Pov

I got back to the house later that night after supper and most people in the group were gone to sleep or at least settling in, Carl was in his sleeping bag fast asleep making me miss the days on the road where he’d hold me, just a little over a week ago he was playing with my hair and holding me in that shitty barn before Aaron found us

With how close we got I thought maybe if the community was safe we’d start officially dating but that was quickly ruined

“Hey sweetie you’re back late” Michonne said from the kitchen as she sat talking with Rick now both looking at me

I went and sat with them as I took off my jacket and laid it over the back of the chair

“Oh ya, was just…….sorry”

“Did you have any supper?” Rick asked smiling gently

“No im not really hungry but ummm where’s Judith?” I asked trying to change the subject as I looked around looking for her

“We set her up in the crib up stairs, tomorrow we are gonna start picking rooms between the two houses, my rooms next to Judith’s, so me and Michonne will be staying up there tonight” Rick said

“Hmmmm I see” I didn’t wanna split up just yet it made me anxious

“Who else is staying in this house?”

“Carls got a room up there then Daryl is staying in the basement” Michonne said

“Is there other rooms downstairs?” I asked feeling most safe around Daryl now it might help ease my anxiety with the house splitting

“Ya do you wanna stay down there too?”

“If that’s okay I’d like to” I said biting on my lip nervously

“Of course sweetie” Michonne smiled

“Okay well I’m gonna stay there tonight so good night” I said getting up to head to my new room

I see Daryl across the hall laid on his bed keeping the door open which made sense, not wanting to fully close ourselves off from the group, I looked at my new room plain cream white walls, a double bed with blue sheets, a bed side table with a lamp and a dresser

I checked in the dresser seeing there was some tops and pants, I pulled out a black tank top and a pair of sweats I sighed in comfort, finally being able to wear comfortable clothes, no bra was nice for once as well not having the rickety worn wire digging into my ribs

I opened up the window a bit just to still feel that breeze then pulled back the covers of the bed and sliding in feeling that fresh cool touch of the sheets in my bare arms, it was so comforting in a way reminding me of the old day before everything happened but I also had this nagging feeling that I should be out there, out side of the walls fighting every second it was a weird feeling knowing it was miserable out there, maybe I just missed what I had out there, how I felt with Carl

Walkers were everywhere groaning and reaching trying desperately to rip me apart, I screamed for Carl seeing him across the clearing not being bothered by the walkers

“CARL PLEASE SAVE ME” I screamed desperately feeling hands all over me but he just turned around seeing Enid pull him away

That’s when I felt my skin being ripped apart my nerves torn the pain unbearable

I woke with a scream shooting up in bed huffing feeling my chest rise and fall rapidly as my heart thrummed in my ears

“Y/n hey it’s okay”

I looked to the edge of the bed beside me and it was Carl holding my shoulders with a distressed look on his face

“You left me” I said feeling the tears build against my water line

“What do you mean I’m right here?” He asked as he started rubbing my arm

“No you’re not, you’re not here with me anymore Carl, you left me for Enid I never even get to spend time with you anymore, you never hold me anymore, you never say those sweet things to me, was I just a distraction for you on the road did what we shared mean nothing to you?” My lip now quivering as his eyes widened

“I…..I’m sorry I didn’t realize I hurt you like this, I would never purposely hurt you, you know how I feel about you”

“No I don’t Carl because you’ve never told me” I dawned on him that he never got the chance to tell you since Aaron came and it distracted him

“I love you y/n not Enid, how could I like her when I have the most beautiful, kind hearted, generous, loving girl right in front of me, I was just hanging out with her because she was having problem with her boyfriend, I love you y/n always have but I promise to never make you feel like this again” he said as he grazed my cheek with his fingers

“I love you too Carl, please just talk to me more because I hate feeling shut off from you”

“I will I promise” he smiled as he leaned in placing a gentle kiss to my lips

His confession lifted a huge weight off my chest making things feel a lot more normal again

Taglist: @eiirqgi

Part.3<-

[rapz-rites]

Demon Daughter

Damian Wayne x Reader, Damian Wayne x Daughter!OC, Reader x Daughter!OC

Time travel is tricky. So of course your daughter is accidentally going to come home early, 20 years too early to be exact.

Inspired by @cipheress-to-k-pop

A/N: this was kinda requested after Demon Spawns which some of you really enjoyed so I hope you all enjoy this one too. I did merge several dc worlds together so sorry if it’s a little confusing

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warning(s): idk 🤷🏾‍♀️ (I’m honestly too lazy atm)

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

“I’m never time traveling with Willow every again!” Milena whispers harshly to herself as she sneaks back into the manor. She sighs as her feet hit her bedroom floor only to realize she forgot something in the Cave from earlier in the day.

After being chased by dinosaurs and almost dying from a meteor shower, Milena decided to be lazy and just boom tube to the Cave. It was only a 5 minute walk but hey, it’s okay to be lazy every now and then. What she didn’t expect to see was strangers in costumes ready to attack her.

“Who the hell are you?” A voice asks as she readies her weapons in response to seeing them. She turns to face the voice.

“I should be the one asking you,” she says as she faces one of her weapons toward them. “Who are you people and the hell did you get in here?”

They could see Milena was a bit shaken up and confused. But it didn’t explain what she was doing in the Cave. After a few moments of silence, Dick was the first to speak.

“How about we all put our weapons down and talk like adults,” he said hands up in surrender. His hands have been up since the moment Milena pointed a weapon at him. Normally, he wouldn’t be fazed but when the weapon looks like one of Cyborg’s, he wasn’t going to take the chance. Especially considering that Cyborg’s canons can easily blast through thick walls of concrete.

“Listen kid-”Jason started thinking he might try and break the tension, only for you to cut him off. “I’m not a kid. I’m 19.”

“Why are you dressed like old heros?” Milena asked. “Those costumes aren’t even sold anymore.”

“What do you mean old?” Dick asked, clearly confused.

“Old as in 2010s-2020s old get with the times,” you say, as if you just stated the obvious. Now they were all confused.

“It’s 2023,” Tim said.

“What?” you questioned in a confused voice. How could it be 2023? How could you be 20 years in the past?

After retracting your weapons you let out a sign. Under your breath you whisper, “I’m going to kill Willow.”

“Willow?” Dick asked.

With slumped shoulders, you turned to look at him.

“Willow West. Wally West and Athemis’ daughter,'' you stated nonchalantly. At this point, you were done with everything. Heading back into the manor you say, “I'll try to reach Willow and get back to my time.I'm going to bed.”

“Hey hey hey! We can't just let you in the manor. You know our identities and we have no idea who you are” Jason retorted. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. Was he being serious right now? How does he think you got in the Cave?

‘Dimwit’ Milena thought to herself. But just as she was going to say something three people entered the Cave. It was Bruce, Damian, and you. Milena couldn’t help but stare in awe.

“Who is this?” Bruce asked in a husky voice.

She paid him no mind, eyes trained on you and Damian. You stood 7 inches below Damian’s 6’1 frame, head tilted up to look at him as you spoke to each other. No one could mistake the look of love in Damian’s eyes as he looked at you while you spoke. He listened intently as you talked about God knows what. But what really struck her was your swollen belly. You were possibly 4 or 5 months pregnant: at the stage were it was kinda obvious you were pregnant but your belly wasn’t huge.

In your peripheral, you saw a girl looking at you and Damian. You gave a small smile as you walked towards her to greet her. Every step you took, you realized she looked more and more familiar. However, just as you were about to reach her, Dick stopped you.

“We don't know who she is or how she got in here. She could be dangerous and she could hurt you,” Dick spoke. But the entire time he was speaking you just looked at the girl. Taking in her features you realized who she was. Your daughter.

“Dangerous? Most likely, but i know my daughter wouldn’t hurt me”, you said smiling at her, your hands on her cheek. Milena couldn’t help but smile at you too. She let out a soft, “Hi mom.”

You didn’t even realize the tears streaming off your face until Milena wiped them away. You turned to look at Damian, teary eyed with a huge smile, “She looks exactly like I dreamed.”

Looking back and forth from Milena and Damian you started to list any and all similarities between them. “She has your eyes. The shape is sharp and green like yours, but is kind of softer like mine.Oh her nose. And-”

“Beloved, she’s tired, let's give her a break,” Damian said. If Damian hadn’t stopped you then you would’ve done a full head to toe assessment to find any similarities you could. The others didn’t know how to react. Tim honestly couldn’t care less. He just wanted to finish his work to go to sleep.

With the help of Alfred, Damian ushered everyone back into the manor for bed.

“Well this is my room.. Well it’s supposed to be. It’s probably a nursery now isn’t it?” You mutter shyly, stopping in front of your room. You and Damian stood in front of the room across from her. With a sorry look you gave her a small nod.

“You can stay with us,” you offered without even thinking about it.

“Absolutely not,” Milena and Damian said at the same time. Milena grew up with you. So she knows how you get sometimes, especially when you were pregnant with her siblings. She’d rather let her father deal with a pregnant and hormonal you. “Thanks but I’m pretty sure there’s an empty room somewhere.”

~

The next morning you and Damian were in the kitchen having breakfast with the family. That’s when Milena came rushing in from up stairs. You watched her as she hurriedly greeted everyone while fixing herself a plate. Once she sat she began inhaling her food. You don’t even think she chewed any of her food. “Mina, honey, maybe you want to slow down a bit and actually chew your food.”

“Sorry Mom-” Milena started. She whipped around the kitchen like it was second nature. Like she did this all the time. She placed her dirty dishes in the sink and thanked Alfred for the breakfast. “My ride is going to be here soon.”

Suddenly what even one thought was a boom tube appeared at the entryway of the kitchen. Everyone looked back at it to find a teen girl, not too much younger than Milena walking out of it.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced,” she said with a small smile. You could tell by her fighting to stay still that she was a speedster, most likely Wally’s daughter at that. “Milena time to go.”

Milena came around and gave Damian quick hug and a ‘see you son’ before stopping in front of you. You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes as she hugged you goodbye.

Walking up to the boom tube, she turned to look at you. “Don’t worry. You’re an amazing mom. I couldn’t ask for a better one,” she says, disappearing.

Hugging your side, Damian rubbing his hand up and down your arm. Tears were flowing down your cheeks as you muttered to yourself . “Damn hormones. I’ll see you in a couple months, Milena.”

~

FUTURE

Walking out of the boom tube, Milena was face to face with her father. She couldn’t help but crumble into his arms. Keeping them both steady, Damian brings them to the floor.

“I saw her. I saw her Dad.” Milena cries into her father’s chest. Damian just rubbed her back, trying to console his crying daughter. “But she’s gone and I miss her so much.”

“I miss her too,” he said in a low whisper. “Every single day.”

Plot twist 🫢

Did y’all enjoy it tho??? 🤔

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist

[caniibeyourfavorite]

bad decisions part 2 || Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

Summary: the beginning of yours and Rafe’s relationship (this takes place during the time where Sarah and John B aren’t dating). You and Rafe start dating, eventually leading to your first time

warnings: 18+, smut, slight angst, some curse words, mentions of drinking, just fanfiction, minors do not interact

author’s note: English is my second language (and I wrote this in the middle of the night) so please ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes

“Where do you think you’re going?” John B asked you. Your older brother had always been so over protective.

“I’m going out,” you shrugged casually, trying to walk past John B and leave the house.

“Where are you going?” John B asked, stopping you again.

“Bye!” You called out to him as you walked out the door and waving, ignoring his question.

You were going over to the kook’s part of the island, and the reason you didn’t tell your brother that is because the car in front of your house belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was waiting there for you in his car, grinning when he saw you walk up to him. He got out of the car to open up the passenger seat door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, a bit surprised at how polite he was being. “You’re welcome, princess,” Rafe replied, letting you get into the seat before closing the door for you, and the nickname made you roll your eyes.

You two went out to one of the restaurants in town that belonged to one of the richest kooks in town. You had never been there before, you didn’t even know the name of the restaurant. As a pogue and a Routledge, you were always intimated by these sorts of places. It wasn’t too fancy, considering it was still the outer banks, but there was still no way you could afford anything there.

“Rafe…” you trailed off, a bit nervous as you whispered to him, “I don’t have enough money to even afford the fries here…”

“Relax, I brought you here, of course I’m paying for our date,” Rafe said as if it was obvious, but also like he really didn’t like making you worry. Trying to read Rafe Cameron was way more difficult than you could have ever imagined.

You two spent the rest of the afternoon together, talking. It was surprising, actually. You would have never thought that a kook and a pogue like yourself would have anything in common that you could talk about for an hour. You talked about everything you two could think of. He asked you about your hobbies, so you told him about how you loved surfing, making jewelry, and saving turtles with Kiara. You didn’t know what to expect from the date, but it was actually amazing.

Afterwards he drove you home and asked you if you wanted to come to a party with him on Friday in a few weeks. You knew it would be a kook party, what other party would Rafe Cameron go to? And as much as you didn’t want to be in a house full of arrogant kooks, you were seriously starting to like Rafe.

You two spent every day before the party going on dates, and every day he surprised you with how nice and charming he actually was. During those days, your brother, John B, still disapproved of you hanging out with kooks, and then livid when he found out you were dating Rafe. But you really didn’t care what John B thought.

When you and Rafe entered the house, the first thing that you noticed was the cacophony of music and voices and random kooks breaking expensive things. You also noticed all the different types of alcohol that this house had, and how the kook teens wasted all of it so carelessly. The air was thick with a mix of sweat, expensive perfume, and the scent of alcohol. You weaved through the groups of teens, following Rafe to wherever he was leading you.

He introduced you to his friends Topper and Kelce, and then his sister Sarah. They all joked about what you were doing with Rafe, Sarah even said you could do better before walking off to some other group with Topper. All their comments made Rafe tense up. But those were better than all of the stares and whispers from everyone else, all directed at you. Kooks wondering who invited the pogue into the party, how you got to date Rafe Cameron, and why you thought you were welcome there. Any time Rafe would hear someone make a comment about you, his grip on your hand got tighter, more protective.

People, who Rafe knew, would come up to you two and ask him things like, “where’d you even find this girl?” They would laugh, and some pretended like they were only kidding, but you knew they weren’t. You knew you didn’t belong at this party, that you didn’t belong with any of these kooks. And you didn’t want to belong with any of them anyway, so why did their words still affect you?

Maybe part of you was hoping you and Rafe would make a good couple, maybe you could actually work. You knew it was a stupid idea, a look and a pogue.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore, and so you began to walk away from Rafe, brushing past the crowd of people distracting him. But of course he noticed you leaving. You struggled to get past everyone and were just about to walk out the door.

“Where are you going?” And of course you recognized his voice. Rafe was standing there in front of you when you turned around.

“I’m leaving,” you said simply, but his hold on your wrist prevented you from turning around and heading out the door.

“I can see that, so why? Where you going?” Rafe asked, and for a moment there you could’ve sworn he sounded disappointed.

“Home,” you answered, and the look on Rafe’s face almost made you feel bad. He let go of his grip on your arm.

“Why?” Rafe asked, visibly confused.

“I just don’t think I should stay,” you said quietly, avoiding eye contact with him, “it’s not like anyone really wants me here anyway…”

“I want you here,” Rafe said, scoffing as if you were being ridiculous.

You didn’t say anything so he continued talking, “don’t tell me it’s about that shit those drunk idiots said.”

“Well… they’re not wrong…” you trailed off, still not looking Rafe in the eye.

Rafe gently grabbed hold of your chin, lifting you head up so you’d look him in the eye, and told you, “yeah, they are.”

You rolled your eyes at Rafe, not really believing him, so he kissed you. Since you guys started dating, you’ve kissed before, but this kiss was different. He leaned down so he could be closer to you, and the kiss was so passionate you almost forgot about everything and everyone in the world. You forgot about the stares, the comments, the mean jokes, the kooks, and the pogues. In that moment, it was just you and Rafe. Once you finally pulled away from the kiss, you were slightly out of breath and Rafe was smirking at you.

“How ‘bout, we leave this stupid party and go back to my place,” Rafe suggested, and as stupid as it might’ve seemed to anyone else, you said yes.

——————————————smut below—————————————

Rafe drove you back to his house, and luckily his parents were out of the obx for some sort of business that you didn’t really understand. Once you were in the house, Rafe immediately pulled you in to another passionate kiss.

He pinned you against a wall, only breaking the kiss to whisper to you, “jump.” That way your legs were wrapped around Rafe’s waist and he could carry you to his bedroom.

He gently placed you in front of his king sized bed, letting you get on it by yourself. He then followed you, moving your head so he could kiss your neck.

“Rafe… I um… I’ve never actually…” you stuttered nervously, making Rafe pull away from your neck.

“Do you want to stop?” Rafe asked gently when he realized, looking at you and trying to read your face as he waited for your answer.

You thought about it, but you knew how much you wanted him, how much you needed him. “No, I wanna keep going.”

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle with you, I promise,” Rafe whispered before going back to kissing your neck.

It was like Rafe knew all the right places in your neck to kiss you, making you whimper. You felt so shy and embarrassed that you really did try to be quiet, but Rafe wanted to hear you.

You felt him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathed between kisses and nips to your throat. “I want this off, princess.”

You blinked once, a bit nervous, before doing what Rafe told you to. You pushed him off of you just a bit, that way you could lift yourself up before you peeled the fabric from your chest. At first you wanted to make Rafe anticipate you, but as soon as you started taking your time he gave you this look that made you squirm. 

As you slowly took off your bra, your heart began to race and you Rafe was resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he could finally see you, he nearly groaned. “Oh, good fucking girl… good girl...” 

He began to suck bruises into each part and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue, then moving to the other breast and repeating his actions. You knew he was trying to be gentle with you, but the slow and teasing agony was killing you.

Rafe trailed kisses down your body, finally reaching your thighs and taking off your shorts, making you whimper again. “Rafe…”

He slowly began tracing the hem of your panties, teasing you before whispering, “promise me you won’t listen to the stupid shit those kooks say.”

You nodded, but Rafe gave your thigh a squeeze so you whispered, “I promise, Rafey…”

“Rafey?” Rafe repeated with a raised eyebrow before chuckling, running his finger up and down your covered core, watching you grow even more needy for him, smirking when he heard your small whimpers. “As long as I can keep calling you princess, fine, keep calling me ‘Rafey’.”

You looked away, squirming when Rafe began to take your panties off, so he gave your thigh another squeeze in order to regain your attention, “I want you to look at me, princess…”

You looked at Rafe, watching as he took off his clothes, smirking when he saw the way you were staring at him. His fingers finally reached to pull aside your panties, plunging his wet digits into your heat. You immediately cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting Rafe to hear you moan due to embarrassment.

“Come on, princess, let me hear you moan for me,” Rafe groaned, his movements beginning to speed up more and more.

It felt so different than anything you imagined, the pleasure so intense, and Rafe did it so easily. His signature smirk never left his face as he watched you squirm in his grasp, clutching onto the bed sheets as if they were your lifeline. You could feel your pussy squeeze around his fingers and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re so tight. You gonna let me give you your first orgasm, hm sweetheart?” You let out another breathy moan at Rafe’s words. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make your first time worth it, baby,” He purred in your ear and you felt your own body melt to his touch.

All you could do was moan and whimper as you felt him curl his fingers, and you rolled your eyes back when he prodded at that spot that had you jolting forward with a long moan. Rafe grinned wickedly at your reaction. He was clearly enjoying the way you gave him such innocent but lewd expressions that he couldn’t help but want to ravish you entirely. 

“Stop moving those legs or I might just have to tie you up, princess,” Rafe’s words were a warning, teasing you for how much you were squirming.

“Stop t-teasing…” you whined, giving Rafe a glare, and pouting up at him. He thought you looked adorable like this. 

Rafe leaned in towards you to place hot-mouthed kisses across your neck again. You mewled at his touch as you felt his lips move along your body as he kissed and licked your smooth skin. Your breath hitched when he left a hickie on your neck, squeezing around his fingers even more now. You felt his breath against you and in a way it was comforting. Your hands reached up to knot into his hair, pushing him impossibly closer towards you. His fingers never stopped their movements, each thrust causing a jolt of pleasure to sing through your body.  

“C’mon doll, cum all over my fingers,let me see you make a mess of yourself like a good girl, I wanna stretch you out, get you all nice and ready for me before I fuck you with my cock.” He purrs and it’s all you needed before you began spasming around his digits. You feel a gush of liquid spray from your pussy and you gasp, not used to that sensation. Your entire body ached as you orgasmed, shaking with pleasure as you moaned continuously. 

Rafe smirked at the mess you’ve made, sliding his fingers out and gathering all your liquid before pushing it into his mouth, tasting your cum as if it was something he had been waiting for. 

“Tastes so good, baby,” Rafe chuckled at your flushed face, leaning down to kiss you, and you could sort of taste yourself on his lips, making you squirm again.

“You sure about this, princess?” Rafe asked you, making sure you were ready and not uncomfortable, as if you hadn’t spent this entire time moaning in pleasure for him.

“Yes,” you whispered, still panting a bit and trying to regain control of your breathing.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cock prod your entrance. Your eyes locked with his and Rafe had a familiar cocky glint in his eye. He took his time before he bottomed out, groaning as he watched your eyes roll back. His cock stretched you out, even after he fingered you earlier. The mere thickness and size of him alone made you clench around Rafe. His cock practically forced you open, prying your insides apart, causing tears to form in your eyes. 

Rafe noticed and leaned in closer to you, kissing those tears that fell down your face, one of his hands going to hold yours as a form of comfort as he cooed in your ear, “I know, baby, I’m sorry, I promise it’ll feel really good, okay?”

You nodded, brain fuzzy as all you could think about was Rafe.

You threw your head back onto his pillows as his cock fucked into you. At first he started slow, but eventually his movements began to speed up. His thrusts began to grow more relentless, needing to feel you cum around him. When you looked at Rafe you could see some of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and he reached his hand up to push his locks out of his eyes. 

Rafe then moved his legs over his shoulders, making his cock hit at a different angle causing you to be in a new position, tears of pleasure spilling down your flushed cheeks, your nails gripping onto his shoulders. He grinned and burried his head into your shoulder, fucking you even harder than before, knowing that he could since you already adjusted you him.

“Go ahead, baby, cum, cum all over my cock, good girl,” His breath was hot on your ear and you felt yourself melt he praised you. Somehow, this orgasm was even stronger than the last, and you were gushing all over him, body throttling as you felt strangled sobs leave your throat, all of Rafe’s name.

Rafe kept pounding into you, cock brushing against your walls as he chased his own orgasm, curse words and praise falling from his lips, “Such a good fuckin’ girl-Keep squeezing me like that, baby.”

You felt his cock twitch inside of you and suddenly you felt heat make its way into your pussy. You gripped onto him tighter, pulling him impossibly closer as your hips raise. He practically flooded your walls, making you feel relieved at the fact that you were on birth control. 

Your body was exhausted and you still barely managed to catch your breath as Rafe was still tucked into the crook of your neck.

“That…that was… wow...” You mumbled under your breath, unable to stop the words for escaping your lips.

And although you didn’t realize it then, you were starting to really fall in love with Rafe Cameron.

That was probably the stupidest thing you had ever done.

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quick note: that was my first time writing real smut so be nice pls also I’m really starting to like writing this story