#and unfortunately it spilled all in the bag like there's not even one drop left in the container

[regular-lord-reckoner]

just got home from a mandatory work meeting i had to actually go into the office for

i thought it was something pertaining to the raises they admitted they lied to us about and how everyone was pissed, but...nope!! just usual business shit and a lot of stuff i really didn’t need to be there for

but worry not because one of my managers saw me riiiiiight as i was about to leave and was like, “hey, do you have more time to work on some charts because one of our other providers needs some help for a few weeks with his”

so it’s not a done deal, she said she’d talk to him this evening but i did tell her if that was the case then i would definitely need some help with one of the other tasks i’m supposed to be working on and that i’m taking the last week of this month off so if i can work around that then fine

also going to take that as permission to get more overtime because so far no one has said anything about me getting some every weekend for the past few weeks so i’m going to keep that going but still be putting in more job applications because whew

[priniya]

🎥 ACTRESS’ SAVIOUR

SYNOPSIS. when doctor reid finds himself enamoured with a certain actress with bright future ahead of her, she gets kidnapped and all he wants to do is save her by any cost.

going to your father’s bureau for the first time could’ve been considered an usual experience, something that could occur on a daily basis — a daughter, stopping by her parent’s workplace to possibly drop him off breakfast he left at home.

for you, on the other hand, it was a stressful occurrence. it was one of the first times at the BAU, where agent hotchner’s been working for years. the reason behind your rare visits there was relatively simple, you weren’t aware you even had a father until you turned sixteen and your mother has passed away. it was, when the social services found out that beside her, you had other living relatives, so… instead of an orphanage, you moved to quantico. building a relationship with a man, who already had a wife and a son, and no idea that his high school relationship has resulted in a kid, was rough. but here you were, six and a half year later, nervously standing inside the elevator, hoping that nothing would go wrong.

however, it had to go, you wouldn’t be yourself if everything went smoothly. as you looked into your phone to check a notification that popped up on the screen, you were met with a person — too quickly to realise that you were bound to bump into someone. the man in front of you was holding a half–empty cup of steaming coffee that other half spilled all over his brown sweater. a flush washed over you immediately, having taken a notice of what just happened.

“i am so sorry, sir.” your nervousness reached its peak the second your eyes laid on the man in front of you. he was tall, definitely taller than you, almost towering over you, glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose as he grimaced. from the plastic plate on his chest you read his name. spencer reid.

“well, uh. it’s alright.” he muttered, walking past you to change out of his stained piece of clothing, giving you all the reasons to overthink this situation, feeding your anxieties.

the confident attitude you tried to put on was now long gone as you made it through to your father’s office. it was a struggle, because you couldn’t remember how to get there, but when you did, your cheeks flushed even more upon seeing spencer, standing next to your dad, his stained shirt nowhere to be found. “excuse me, uh–” you started, announcing your presence, earning a few curious looks. “dad, you left the breakfast at home.”

“dad?” you heared a female voice whisper, and you swore your guts to know that she looked around the room for an answer, while, unfortunately for her, being left with nothing more than a shrug. the last name on the plastic clipped onto your shirt didn’t match with their boss’, which only confused them more.

hotch cleared his throat, giving you the tiniest smile as he took the brown bag from you. “y/n, these are special agents morgan, prentiss, rossi, garcia and doctor reid. you already know jj.” he said, confusing them even more. “this is my daughter, y/n.”

“hey, i know you from somewhere.” a woman spoke out, her colorful dress catching your attention immediately. “oh my gosh, hotch why didn’t you tell me that you’re daughter is playing on the russos life? i love that show!” her words brought heat to your cheeks.

the russos life was your first bigger gig that got you a little bit of recognition in show-busines and social media. at the beginning of your small acting career, you promised yourself that you’d not go to the television, because theatre was your thing. you can’t even recall the moment when your point of view changed, maybe it was after the call from your agent suggesting you that you should take the role, because the producers were already interested. or, most likely it was when you fell in love with a role you were proposed.

you stayed in the conference room (and in the building in general) for the next few minutes. after you had left, the sweet sound of your voice was still lingering in spencer’s mind that somehow went unnoticed by the team. he was sitting at his desk, frowning over something, when the clock hit three and the decision was quickly made in his mind — go grab a sandwich or you’ll go crazy. the funniest thing for people around him (if he ever let them know) might be that he couldn’t quite grasp the reason of his interest in you. reid found his thoughts trailing off to you as he hovered over the raports he was filling out that he almost wrote your name in there. he pushed the door of a nearby cafe open, intuitively scanning the place. his eyes were all over the place until he felt someone at his back.

“shit— sir, i’m sorry, i don’t know what’s happening with me to–” you began to rumble as the man you bumped into turned to face you. your face grew redder, the second you realized it’s the same person you’d bumped into already, which only made you feel more embarrassed.

oh.

“doctor reid, i’m really sorry.” you hoped your words came off as genuine, because they were. it almost seemed like you had some sort of scheme against him that you had to bump into him whenever he’s around. “at least i didn’t have a coffee on me, right?” an awkward smile crept on your lips, trying to ease the situation.

the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as spencer was taking in your beauty. the way your eyes flickered, the way lipgloss coated your lips, the way you had your hands behind your back or the way you tilted your head to get a better view of his face. the height gap between you and spencer wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a little troubling. “thank god, i didn’t exactly have another spare shirt on me.” his repsonse made you chuckle quietly, feeling the embarrassment wash away with each word that left his mouth.

you don’t even know how much time had passed since you started your little conversation with doctor reid. even though you were the one rambling on and on, he has asked you a few times about your job, genuinely interested in what you do on set and what is your show about. he remembered the cheap looking show lila had played in, back when the bau had her case. you told him all about the plays you partook throughout the entirety of your school year and he dumped all the facts he knew about the plays on you.

you could see yourself getting fond of his presence around you, it felt eerily comforting, which for you was strange. until you moved to your dad’s place, you had rare contact with the opposite gender outside the plays, no real father figure, no closer relationship with a guy before, you had never felt so comfortable around a man, who you just met. so… it wasn’t really strange that you ended up exchanging numbers, what could be strange (for reid’s friends) was that he was the first one to call.

he kept calling, while you kept happily responding. it grew to be some sort of your thing, almost as if each of you were one another’s happy place. whenever he got frustrated with a case, he’d call you to take things off his mind, which always went smoothly. spencer was probably the biggest fan of your endless rambling about your classes or people you found annoying during the day.

the phone calls got more and more regular with each week passed, and when you didn’t call him to say good morning one day, his conscience was going absolutely crazy, his guts telling him something was off. nevertheless, his thoughts were pushed aside as his phone rung out with a call from jj, alerting on a new case.

“NYPD asked for our assistance in a possible serial killer case.” jareau explained as she handed the case files to the rest of the team. “over the course of last few days, four females were strangled before the unsub stabbed them multiple times.” she took a long sigh. “each of the girl was around the age of twenty to twenty three, studied in the state and majored in the arts fields, lived alone, but were socially active.”

a shiver ran down spencer’s spine as he heard jennifer’s words. the victimology were too familiar to you, making the unsettling feeling come back to him. pulling out his phone from the deep of his pocket, he managed to send you a quick text, asking to call him as soon as you see his message.

but you didn’t call him back. he was thinking about you all the time they were gathering more information, but there was some that shocked the team the most. the letters craved on each of the victims’ bodies. at first it seemed… like random letters, a code maybe.

“what if it’s an anagram?”

after that, spencer wrote the letters on the board, his throat tightening when the realisation hit him. the letters could be put in as your first and last name. “hotch, uh, i– can we talk, in private?” he muttered, before leavng the room the NYPD set up for them. his hands were shaking as he paced around the room, trying to find the right words to tell hotchner about his theory.

“y/n and i have been talking lately.” spencer started. “i–i got this strange feeling today, she often texted me in the mornings, almost every day in the past few days and–and she didn’t do that today.” he took a deep breath, flattering his brown shirt. “maybe i’m biased, but i think something bad happened to her, the anagram was– it was her name, hotch.” his words were falling out of his lips almost too fast for your dad to understand.

but aaron hotchner has always been the smartest guy out there, the meaning behind spencer’s words almost immediately got to him, because once again his child was in danger, he had a feeling, when he learnt the victimology, but when spencer said those words, his suspicions were confirmed. “reid. i need you to go to her apartment, i suppose you know the address?”

fifteen minutes later, young doctor was at the door of your apartment. it wasn’t exactly the first time he was there, but it didn’t matter now, not when you could be in danger with a serial killer, looking for you. “y/n?” he knocked on the door three times, when he got no answer, he did the morgan speciality, kicking the door open.

your entire flat was quiet, completely out of place. the last time he was there, around two weeks ago, it wasn’t as neat as it was right now. you had your scripts scattered around the coffee table, pillows disheveled on the couch, dishes laying around the counter, although now, everything was clean. almost too clean. then he found it, a small piece of paper underneath a cup that you made him coffee in.

you won’t keep us apart.

he recognised the fact that your handwriting was different, even though you liked keeping your place a little more messy, often calling it ‘artist’s mess’, your handwriting was neat and precise. you didn’t write this note.

“sir? you’ve gotta take a look at that.”

the last thing you remember was walking down the street, a phone in your hand about to send a quick message to reid that you’d call him as soon as you get to your flat. it was a habit of yours, texting the young doctor to give him a notice you’d call to ramble about your day. just the thought of talking to him had given you butterflies, a thought of hearing his voice after a long day at university and on set was enough to make your day better. you were about to send the message, when a guy bumped into you with so much force you barely kept yourself on ground. before you knew it, you felt an overwhelming rush of pain, passing out soon after.

your consciousness was regained, but the place wasn’t familiar. a small room with window covered with a black fabric that didn’t let any light inside. the walls had pictures stuck all over them. pictures of you, from at least four months back. each day when you were coming back from campus, there was a photo, of you at the library, at the club with your friends, going back from school, even one that captured how you giggled at one of spencer’s facts, when he visited you.

the level of anxiety peaked, when the person who locked you up came back, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, the one you loved so dearly, the one’s your mom had always put up in vases at your house, the one you got from your manager after wrapping up the season one of the russos life. “we’re sorry.” he spoke out, his voice hoarse, cracking here and there.

“but we’re finally together, y/n/n.” he whispered, getting closer to you with each word. “no one will be able to keep us apart. we’re together, for eternity.” his hand grapped your jaw to make you look at him, his lips barely inches apart.

you could feel the overwhelming pain washing over you again, realizing that he probably stabbed you back there on the street — with that realisation, it hurt even more.

his hands were rough on your skin, almost leaving a burnt mark on your cheeks. he caressed it, trying to maintain a gentle manner, causing you to tear up. “please, let me go.” you whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. “please.” his rough, yet gentle hand slapped you across the face, attitude changing immediately.

“no.” he groaned angrily, gripping your jaw even harder than the first time. “you’re not leaving. not when we’re finally together. eternity, sun. together for eternity.” his words almost burnt into your mind.

how long were you there? days, weeks, months maybe. you couldn’t know. the lack of sun, barely any food and water was driving you crazy, nevertheless, right when he left you alone, you realized something that came up to you as a moral of reid’s story he told you about a certain case with a man obsessed with a woman. you had to play into his fantasy, no matter how it hurt and how painful it was, it was necessary to gain his trust.

and you did, played right into his delusional fantasy of you until he trusted you enough to make a mistake. leaving the door unlocked. you left in such a hurry, you couldn’t breathe. the air was suffocating, it was dark, so dark you felt scared that someone would attack you again.

“oh my, miss, are you okay? you’re bleeding.” a lady called out to you, grabbing your shoulder in a soft manner, the presence of a female soothing your nerves a little.

“i– i need to make a phone call, please, could i use your phone?” before you knew it, you were dialing one of the numbers you memorised by heart.

“doctor spencer reid, can i help you with anything?” his monotonous voice rang out in the phone, causing you to sigh in relief. “sorry?” he added. you imagined him frowning, like when he tried to teach you how to play chess and you kept giggling at how frustrated he was getting, while you pretended to not know a thing about chess.

“spence.” another escaped left your lips. “i– i don’t know where i am. i know you’re in quantico, put please help me out, there’s a guy, who—” you started rambling, your vision getting blurry.

“y/n, i know.” he whispered. “we’re in new york, garcia’s tracking your location right now, please stay on the call with me.”

“spence,” you started, holding onto the woman next to you for stability. “i– he’s done something to me, i think– i think, i might pass out.” your tone was quieter with each words, almost stuttering as you felt your limbs weakening.

your world was crushing down on you, the nearby buildings suffocating you, not letting you breathe, the stab wounds overwhelming. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital, machinery plugged into you, your eyelids heavy as you opened them.

“you’re awake.” a familiar voice filled your eardrums as you tried propping up on the bed, stopped by the ripping pain. “hey, hey. don’t move, you’re okay.” his hand was in his, holding you so gently and tenderly you wanted to cry. it wasn’t like their unsub’s, doctor reid was genuine, the way he held your hand was almost… symbolical.

you had four stab wouds on your stomach that the man wrapped into a foil to stop you from bleeding out, but it ripped when you ran away. your face was bruised, marks left by his hands visible on your upper neck and jaw.

“you’re okay.” he repeated his words almost as if spencer tried to reassure himself that nothing would happen to you anymore. definitely not on his watch. “i won’t let him do anything to you again, i promise.” he planted a tender kiss on your hand, squeezing it softly. none of you realized that the rest of spencer’s team, including your father, was standing in the doorway, observing the little moment between you and doctor reid.

the one thing that burst your bubble was derek’s laughter, after having told a joke that obviously involved you, spencer and the fact that he was the first one you called after getting out of the unsub’s place. “looks like pretty boy stole your daughter from you, hotch.” morgan’s elbow nudged your dad’s side.

aaron wasn’t dumb, and from the very beginning, he knew that there would be something going on between the two of you. hotch knew that from the way reid’s lingered on you, when you visited the bureau. how his eyes would always slip to his phone or how he had to get away from the office to make a phone call, lasting all through his lunch break, so when four days ago he told his boss about the suspicions, it all came together.

“i know it’s early, but you have to tell us if you remember everything from those days.” your dad’s tone was soft. if he wasn’t so good at this job, you’d think he tried to make you relive the moment again, but hotch has always been great and you knew it, he wanted to catch the person who did this to you.

“it was, uh.” the words coming out of your mouth was weak, which was no surprise for anyone, since you could barely have your head up to look at the concerned faces of people in your room. “a white guy, his late twenties maybe. i don't remember much beside his hands. i thought of it as something that maybe would let you catch him.”

“what about his hands, sweetheart?” morgan asked. he was standing next to prentiss and rossi, who noted all the important things you said. “did he lack any fingers? had only one hand?"

“no, no.” you shook your head. "spencer told me that, um, most of the sophisticated killers have smooth hands. his weren’t smooth at all. it was rough, like if he was working since he was a kid.” images were flashing through your mind at the speed of light. nevertheless, it didn't feel enough. “it looked like he was in the middle of psychotic break or was off meds, he kept using plural pronouns like if there was another person, but he was alone the whole time i was there.”

when the interview was done, jj stayed behind to talk to you a little. her facial expression revealing that she was interested in your friendship with the young doctor from her team. “so… spencer told you?” she lifted her eyebrows, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed.

“yeah…” your reply sounded a little sheepish. “i kind of ran into him twice, when i came to your office half a year ago, the first time i was too embarrassed to say anything other than ‘i’m so sorry, sir’, but the second time was on his break, i think and it kind of… went smoothly from there.” a blush spread over your cheeks, but jennifer didn’t comment on that.

“you’d look cute together.” her words made your brain go a little fuzzy. maybe she was right, but something in your gut told you that nothing would be happen between the two of you, spencer was the type of guy in love with his work, not a random girl he met on a random tuesday. although, his mind was an enigma, how could you be so sure of that?

“c’mon, jj.” you mumbled, looking away. “we’re friends, strictly platonic.”

the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was there, even after the unsub was caught two days after you were free to leave the hospital. it was only growing, when you were alone with a man you weren’t exactly close with. as bad as it made you feel, being around your dad’s co–workers was almost paralysing. morgan, rossi, the cops involved in your case, who tried talking to you about the entire thing, it was making your hands shake.

“spence?” you whispered, after having knocked on the door of his hotel room, a day before they left.

he opened the door immediately, almost as if his guts told him you were on the other side. he looked like you’d just woken him up. his hair all over the place, his gaze sleepy. a t–shirt loose on his body as he pulled you inside, closing the door behind you. “hey, sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up, thought you’d be still up.” you couldn’t bring yourself to speak louder.

“i had a feeling you’d swing by.” his words made your cheek grow hotter, because to be honest… you were thinking about seeing him, laying down on the bed unable to sleep. “what’s on your mind?” he asked, bringing his hand to your chin, causing you to look at him.

“are all the profilers doing that?” you asked, mesmerised by the way his eyes roamed around your face, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“subconsciously, yeah.” you chuckled. “don’t go off topic. something is bothering you, you know i see it.”

“i just… wanted to see you.” embarrassment rolled off your tongue, knowing that probably lots of women had already told him that. mostly, because morgan told you about the time, when prostitutes tried hitting on him during one of the cases — spencer had his charm, but you couldn’t be sure if he knew. “jesus, you can’t look at me like that, when you’re all that.”

“all that?” reid’s laughter rang in your ears as he made a step towards you, reducing the distance between you two.

“yeah? have you seen yourself before you opened the door? man, i had four stab wounds and—” you began to ramble, but his smirk and the look on his face make you stop, before another chuckle left his lips. “what?”

“nothing.”

“reid!” you groaned, punching him slightly in the arm as he still held your face, tilting it upwards.

seconds later, his mouth were on your, his lips moving against yours tenderly. his free hand squeezing your waist gently, pushing you even closer. it was the first time you felt any type of comfort in the past few days. you were completely speechless as the kiss broke off, looking at him with big eyes.

“i– you–.” you stuttered.

“it’s funny, you usually can’t stop rambling, but now you’re a stuttering mess.” he chuckled once again, his arms firm, yet gentle on your waist as he continued to tease you with a smirk that wouldn’t get off his face.

“i thought if i did something wrong, i’d not see you again.” he whispered, his nose brushed against yours. your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity. “it made me realise how many things i should’ve done before, how important you became to me, y/n. i can’t go on without a thought of you in my mind, you’re like a plague that i don’t– that i’d never get rid of.”

“i know this job is hectic and that i’m a mess most of the time, but you’re the only one that keeps me sane after what i see.” his lips brushed against yours again and you didn’t protest.

“so… you’re saying that you can’t stop thinking about me.” it was your turn to smirk at him, your heart tingling with a feeling unknown, yet so familiar that always appeared around him. “i can’t stop thinking about you, too, you know. i, uh, had this feeling that if i get out, you’d be there somewhere to keep me safe.”

“i am, and i always will, promise.”

“is it you asking me out right now?” a quiet giggle escaped your mouth, earning a hum in return. “only if you’re gonna say yes.”

[rinhaler]

Bright Light, I’m Like a Moth

CHAPTER SUMMARY: as much as you hate Megumi, it seems like you can't help yourself around him.

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, dubcon, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia, degradation, handjob (m+f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation.

WORDS : 7.3k

notes : do we hate the reader yes or no

       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

—

Even if you were wearing nothing at all you’re sure you would have still felt like you were vacationing on the sun. It was difficult to tell where you were while still under the influence.

You weren’t sure if you’d been high for minutes, hours or days.

Megumi couldn’t stop telling you that he loves you and he was going to get you home.

He wouldn’t have let this happen to you, though, if he really loved you. He's just as hot as you are but you're clearly suffering the worst of it, completely dehydrated and out of your mind.

You can only hope things will feel better when you get to your room.

He manages to carry you in his arms all of the way to your room, your heart rate rising by the second the more you lose yourself to your paranoia. Your head lolls and the speed of his strides dries the tears on your face as the air hits you.

You're set down as he struggles to open the door; but he wraps your arm around his shoulder to keep you upright.

“’m so thirsty, Megumi, I can’t—”

He helps lower you down onto your mattress. Your body collapsing into the cloud-like softness as tears silently roll down your eyes. He isn’t in the room anymore. Your brain is challenging you, questioning you, bullying you. He’s left you alone to deal with this all by yourself. To suffer. To stress. His grand plan to finally drive you to complete and utter despair.

“Can you sit up for me, O’Keeffe?” you hear him say.

You don’t move anything except your head, managing to see him between the valley of your breasts resting on the balls of his feet.

There's a strange sensation throughout your body. Like you've got pins and needles everywhere. Your whole body is tingling and your lip is wobbling as you sit up and face him.

Your face glittering like the crystal chandeliers he remembers gawking at in your parents manor home. “I got you water, drink it slowly.”

His instruction goes in one ear and out the other. You drink every last drop quicker than he can blink, a lot of it spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

It isn’t enough.

You feel as if you’ve swallowed a bag of sand and had your throat cut.

More.

You do your best to stand to your feet and rush to the bathroom. He follows you in and watches you drink the water directly from the tap. He lets it happen, for a little while, before pulling you away and back to bed.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?” you ask him. He just laughs and shakes his head.

“No, princess, you’re not. Not gonna let that happen, alright? I love you.” he says. You get up again and try to get back into the bathroom, but you’re intercepted. He pins you against the wall and cages you in. Your chest is swelling with emotion, mainly fear. But anticipation, too.

“Stop saying you love me.”

“Why? I just, I love you. You’re so lovely, I love you.” he blabbers and you shake your head in anger.

“You don’t bully people you love. You don’t peer pressure or blackmail people you love. I’m just a fucking project to you. Y-Yuuji would never do this to me.” you stutter, trying to stop yourself from giving him the satisfaction of your tears. He grits his teeth and looks away for a split second, and then his focus is entirely on you.

“Fuck. Yuuji.”

“I’d love to, Megumi. But unfortunately I’m stuck here with you instead of him. And I’m— I—” your voice gets caught and disappears entirely in your throat. He tilts his head and moves his face closer into yours. So close you think he might kiss you again. So close your noses are almost skimming off each other.

“Say it,”

“I’m so— I’m so… lonely. I miss him. I miss being loved.” you explain as your voice cracks. Your eyes are beginning to swell with tears and he can’t resist but wipe them away for you. His thumb wanders and catches on your lower lip. The fat, puffy flesh follows his digit and then springs back into place.

Divine, he thinks.

“I’m telling you I love you and you’re telling me to stop.”

“You don’t love me, r-really,” you whimper as you try and find a way for each of you to see sense in such a hopeless situation, “you’re just high and— you couldn’t ever love me like he does.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m going to die because of you. Tonight, like this, in this shitty hotel room. I’m not gonna make it to the morning and I’ll never be loved by him again. By anyone. I’m dying and I’m broken. And it’s your fault.”

“I love you.” he whispers, his lips hovering just above yours. You turn your head to force him to kiss your cheek instead. You can’t do this again.

“Stop it.”

“I love you, I really love you.”

“You broke me and you’re gonna kill me, you still won’t stop.”

“Because I love you.”

“Stop!”

“Baby,”

He mutters into your supple skin. And for some reason, it breaks you even more.

You face him head on; and he smiles, because you’ve lost.

He, as always, is the winner. You’re letting him take advantage of you because you’re just so God damn gullible. Maybe he does really love you.

He doesn’t know his truth himself, honestly. All he knows is that he has a lot of love to give, and he wants to give it to you.

His lips are so soft but so strong. Yours are weak and feeble, which is why you’re allowing him to take the lead. Letting him kiss you however he likes. There's minimal tongue but a whole lot of passion in the heat of this one intimate kiss.

What are you doing?

Is it so wrong to seek companionship when you’re lonely?

Yes, when you have a boyfriend, of course it is. But you can’t think about that right now. Not when he’s lifting your leg onto his hip and grinding into your core.

“Megumi,” you mewl, pulling away from the kiss but reattaching yourself to him instantly after speaking.

“What is it?” he asks, concernedly.

He begins to kiss down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone, and atop your breast as he waits for you to tell him what’s on your mind. You can hardly form a thought let alone tell him what you want to say.

“We shouldn’t— we shouldn’t do this, I’m scared, Megumi,” you tell him quietly.

It doesn’t deter him, though, he can’t stop now.

He didn’t know anyone could be as soft and pliable as you. How could he have let himself waste so much time hurting you when he could have been controlling you instead?

“But I’m so lonely.” you sigh, unable to stop the words from falling out. Each nick of his teeth against your skin and delicate soft peck on your body is like a combination code to unlock more secrets from you.

“Do you want me to make it better?” he wonders, softly. It’s almost a secret confession between him and your tits. He doesn’t look into your eyes as he asks. Too enamoured by your breasts as he cups one and kisses the other.

Such simple words equate to such a life changing question. If he were Toji asking that question, you assume he’d suggest something like scolding Megumi and taking you to a drive thru for a burger and fries.

If it were Yuuji asking you think he’d buy more snacks and watch The Shining with you for the millionth time.

If it were your parents they’d probably offer to have Yuuji shipped off permanently to some foreign country and throw money at you.

But you aren’t with any of them right now.

You’re with Megumi.

And no matter what situation you find yourself in with him, you can’t help but dwell on the past. He’s never tried to make anything better for you before. He’s actively pursued every course of action that would ultimately make your life worse.

In the time you’ve known him, he’s only been truly kind to you in the last two days.

Yesterday his idea of making you feel better was to let you sit next to him on the bus rather than with the evil girls. It was going bowling and to the aquarium and buying you a shark plushie.

But, today, he’s gotten you high. He’s made you someone you doubt you’d recognise if you were to look in the mirror. He’s had his tongue down your throat and lips all over your body.

He’s showing love to your body in the way that only a true lover should.

The way Yuuji should.

His way of making you feel better isn’t right. It isn’t something you should even be considering.

But you’re too foolish to realise what you are now.

You wouldn’t hesitate to slap him in the face before getting to this point. You would have scoffed and told him where to go when he offered you drugs. You wouldn’t have crawled into bed with him because you were cold.

But, for now, you aren’t you. You aren’t your own person.

You’re Megumi’s.

“Help me, Megumi.” you whisper in a desperate, begging tone. He looks up at you, then. Glimmering green eyes searching for any ounce of doubt in your facial expression.

It isn’t there.

His body presses against yours, pushing you further into the wall as he kisses you deeply.

Has he secretly wanted this all along?

Have you?

He turns you around so that your ass is against his crotch. He kisses into the crook of your neck as he guides you in the direction of your bed.

Your eyes are closed, softly, as you allow yourself to melt into the false sense of romance you’re feeling from him. But they spring open again once he pushes you down onto all fours on the mattress. He flips your tutu up and grabs two fistfuls of your white fishnets. You gasp when you hear the dramatic, tell tale sound of him ripping them apart. Once he can perfectly see your panty-clad mound, he runs a finger up between your lips.

“W-Wait, Megumi wait.” you protest. He stops and helps you roll onto your back. He climbs on top of you and kisses upwards from your belly button to between your breasts. “I don’t feel comfortable.” you confess. He smirks into your skin, giving you a lengthier kiss against your sternum.

“I’m high, babe. Goin’ too fast for you? What can I do?” he mumbles clumsily against you. You wriggle beneath him until he pays attention to you properly.

“I’d like to change. Could you, um, help me again?” you ask him hopefully, fluttering your eyelashes like butter wouldn’t melt.

You’re greeted with a simpering smile as he rises from above you and helps you sit upright. You watch him as he sits on the ground and begins to untie the laces on your platform boots. He tosses them over his shoulders, not caring where they end up. He reaches under your tutu and starts to pull down your fishnets.

“Panties off too, yeah? Do you want me to look away?”

“Um—”

“I think… you want me to see your body anyway, right?”

“I don’t want you to look right away… could you get my—”

He’s already standing up and searching for your fluffy pyjamas. Once again he avoids looking as he pulls your underwear down for you, concentrating solely on the ground as he helps you step into your shorts.

He manages to help pull your tutu down over your shorts to preserve a little bit of your modesty.

You stay still as he moves behind you. You’re sitting between his legs as you feel him fiddle with the hook of your bra. He pulls it off for you like he had the prior evening. But this time, neither of you are in a rush to cover your flesh.

Your vest is by his side, and you’re looking over your shoulder. Not for the garment, no, you’re looking for him. Unlike last night, you want him to grope you.

He does.

He’s nibbling on your earlobe as he massages your naked breasts. You can’t help but groan when he takes your nipples between his finger and thumb. The way he tweaks and pulls them so perfectly, you can feel your brand new shorts become ruined as you can’t help but soak them from him touch.

“I want to touch you, down there.” he whispers into your ear, it rushes immediately to your cunt and you’re arching your back against his body.

You want him to touch you there, too.

Badly.

“M-My vest, please.” you request. He pulls away from your ear and you’re both fixated on your vest as if it’s an unwelcome observer to your private party. There is nothing in the room except you, him, your breath, and the vest. Both of your movements have stilled as you stare it down. A limp puddle of purple intruding on a good time; the shed skin of a snake who is about to be reborn.

“I don’t think you need it,” his hums hushed carefully into the nape of your neck. You bite your lip and close your eyes, the crown of your head relaxing against his shoulder. “I think… right now… you just need me to make you feel better.”

You do.

Though you’re certain anyone could be saying the same to you right now and you’d agree with them.

Whether it be Megumi, his father, or even Gojo.

The pain your feeling and the high your flying are a deathly mixture of sin and punishment that you can’t seem to escape. There’s only one answer, one cure, and Megumi is the one offering it to you. You move your forehead so it rests against his as he waits for you to answer him.

It’s wrong, you know it, but not really. All you know is that Yuuji isn’t here and you’re paralysed with misery. Megumi is giving you a solution. You’re both in a hellish paradise with so much love to give and each are desperate to receive it, and there’s only two of you here.

You nod against him and your lips slot together like they belong against one another. Like he is your boyfriend, not Yuuji.

Megumi is evil and Yuuji is so perfect.

He’s so perfect that you can’t help but cry thinking about him even while Megumi’s lips are on yours. He pulls away, only a little, to hold the sides of your head as he kisses you harder. It’s more urgent, an apparent desperation behind each suction of lips pulling apart.

He guides you down onto your back. His hands move down your chest, along your curves and underneath your thigh. He pulls your leg up so that it’s wrapped around his waist. Lazy yet emotional ruts of his hips stimulate your already sopping heat.

No matter how badly you want to pull away from him so that you can breathe, he doesn’t let you. All you want is to pant out a soft, breathy moan and earn a moments reprieve from his actions, but he can’t let you.

The knowledge that you’re with him and he’s with you and you’re just as pathetic and needy as each other is mind-numbingly intoxicating.

You’re so good but just look how bad you’re being.

You want him just as badly as he wants you. And yet, neither of you know why. As far as you’re both aware, you despise each other. You are worlds apart and there’s nothing between you but anger, contempt, and disgust. But maybe that isn’t the whole truth after all.

Maybe he’s had feelings for you since you first met.

Since you complimented his art.

Perhaps he wanted to push you away and make things impossible so he knew there would be no chance for anything to ever happen between you.

But why would anything have happened?

You’re with Yuuji.

You’re with Yuuji.

And that hasn’t stopped you from being in bed with Megumi right now. Would things have worked out better if you tried to be friends rather than enemies? Or would that have lead you down this very same path?

He isn’t sure if it’s true.

He isn’t sure if he had feelings for you from that very first moment or if that’s just the hidden romantic in him trying to create a love story that isn’t there.

He isn’t sure if he has feelings for you at all other than hate and lust. He wants to fuck you, now, because he’s aroused. He’s drugged up to the eyeballs and it seems like the right thing to do despite how wrong it is. You hold no feelings for him, he’s sure. You hate each other but you’re about to do something only lovers do.

“I— Megumi, I don’t want to have s-sex.” you speak almost assertively. It’s powerful to hear you talk, he thinks. And so confidently too. Do you think he loves you, for real? Is it the prospect of sex that has turned you into someone entirely new or is it the possibility that you’re beneath someone who loves you?

He pulls away, perplexed by your words. What did you think he meant by helping you? Admittedly he was more interested in helping himself, but it seems you’ve come to your senses.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, somewhat concernedly. His eyes widen excitedly when you shake your head. Now he knows what you want.

Is this some sort of compromise in your deluded little mind? His dominant hand slithers down your stomach and tickles you as his fingers trace along your body. You gasp when his fingers breach the waistband of your shorts.

He’s stunted, for a moment. Your eyes focus on one another, almost asking if this is really happening, before he licks his lips. Your lungs expand and collapse with each passing moment.

Yes, it is happening.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he whispers. Immediately your face burns hot with shame and embarrassment as you feel him toy with your slippery folds.

“I’m so— please, I just wanna— I need to feel better.” you beg wantonly. He smirks as he begins circling around your little pearl but not quite touching it. Legs shaking and heart beating rapidly.

“You will.” he assures you.

It has always embarrassed you to receive pleasure from a partner. Not because you don’t like it, you just have no idea where to look. Yuuji thinks it’s cute when you hide your face from him when he fingers you in this position.

It’s bizarre to him that you’re so shy even after so long, especially considering he eats you out on a regular basis and has made his face your personal throne. He lets you, though, whatever you need to do to be comfortable is alright with him.

No matter what, he thinks you look beautiful.

But Megumi isn’t Yuuji.

The minute he sees you trying to hide your face behind your hands he stops touching you. When you come out of hiding, you look to see him sucking his fingers clean of your mess. It’s hot, but you aren’t quite sure why he felt the need to stop.

Air is knocked out of your lungs when you feel him grab each of your wrists. He pins them above your head with a furious look in his eye.

A strict warning.

“Don’t do that again. Got it? I need to see your face so I know what I’m doing.” he explains. You nod quickly, understanding him perfectly.

He grabs a fistful of your hair so that you can’t move your face, forcing you to stare at him as he searches for your clit yet again. He goes slow at first, finally touching it instead of teasing around it.

You think you might burst into flames because you’re so humiliated.

He isn’t letting you take your eyes off him and he’s staring at you like an animal in the night. The only indication that he’s still human is when his eyes twitch and eyebrows falter whenever you release a heavier breath.

He picks up the pace and you can’t stand it, fingers grasping into the pillows by your head as he draws more pleasure from flicking over your throbbing clit. Your mouth falls open to moan and he copies you in faux sympathy. His mouth turning to a smile as he laughs at your whimpering state.

“There we go. There’s your little slut button.”

You bite your lip in an attempt to keep your cool. But it’s useless. Your legs open wider for him and even with his fingers laced through your hair you can’t help but throw your head further back into the pillows beneath you.

“I’m so— I’m so h-happy, Megumi. You’re so good— at this.”

He’s almost insulted that you thought he wouldn’t be good at giving pleasure with his fingers. It lights a match under the ball of hot air which is Megumi Fushiguro as it makes him feel somewhat threatened.

He knows he’s good.

And by God, he’ll make sure you know it too.

Your toes begin to curl as you feel his lips latch onto one of your nipples. It’s a dirty trick that manages to bring you that much closer to your orgasm each and every time. With that and the way he’s expertly rubbing your clit you know you’re soon to be a goner.

“M-Megumi, please slow down. I’m tryin’ to hang o-on a bit lo-onger, here.” you request. He holds your nipple lightly between his teeth and smiles, shaking his head in refusal. You groan when he sucks and releases it with a pop.

“Stop hangin�� on. If you wanna feel better, let go.” he demands. He begins to pay the same attention to your opposite nipple as he carries on stimulating your pulsating bead. He yanks your hair tight as your hips begin to buck wildly against his fingertips. Your pussy desperately searching his touch to help you along quicker than he’s delivering.

Your vision turns to a starry night as you begin singing his name in approval. Each wave of orgasmic pleasure gushing through your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes again and again. You feel him kiss your breast softly as you plummet from the never ending high. The kindness doesn’t last, however, as he stands on his knees and hooks his fingers into your shorts.

“Lift your fuckin’ ass. I want these off, now.” he tells you stringently. You obey, as always, raising your hips so he can rip the purple shorts away from your body.

For some reason you instinctively press your knees together as your body goes into high alert. They don’t stay like that, of course. He places his palms on your kneecaps and pries your legs apart.

“Don’t close your legs unless I say so. Until I’m done with you. I’m not finished yet, you haven’t even let me look at your pussy properly.”

He looks down to see your slippery, shimmering cunt. It’s intoxicating. So little and perfect and pink. So cute, like you. He holds your mound and uses his thumb to pull back the hood of your clit. He grins, watching it throb and pulse because of him. He bends down to spit on it which makes you moan.

You’re even louder when he attaches his lips around it and begins to suck.

“Oh fuck! Megumi, please, I can’t. I’m too sensitive I can’t cum like that—”

“Do you ever shut up?” he asks as he raises his face from between your legs. “Just having a little fun with you, I’m not an idiot. But since you want to rush…” he trails off, a menacing tone behind his words.

You jolt when you feel him grab your entire face in one hand and pinch your cheeks. Your lips pucker and he can’t help but grin at how truly ridiculous you look. How can you look so fucked out and drunk from his fingers but still have a glimmer of craving behind your twinkling eyes?

“Open your legs. Wider.” he instructs.

You spread them as far as they’ll possibly go, an overwhelming desire to please him overcoming you. He pulls back a little, and at that point you notice a string of drool pooling on his lower lip. His mouth hangs open as he slides a finger inside of your entrance. You squeak at the intrusion, you squeal at the unrelenting thrusts he delivers as it batters you g-spot.

“You’re so fucking tight.” he informs you, making blood rush to your ears in an attempt to block out his words.

“T-Think ‘m gonna cum. I think—”

“Already? Fuck, it’s ‘cause you’re tight baby. Like a little virgin cunt. Bet you can’t even take more than one finger, can you?”

“N-No. I mean, no. I ca- I can’t take— two is— fuck, too much f’me.” you tell him, and he snickers.

“Knew it. You’ve got a princess pussy. Nice ‘n tight and she creams like a dream when you treat her right. Gonna show me how you cum on my fingers for doing a good job? Gonna give me my reward for makin’ you feel better?”

“FUCK, Megumi. You’re so— hnngg—!” you cut yourself off as he brings you to yet another small death. He bites his lip as he watches you squirm and whine in pleasure. His fingers still not giving up their assault on your sensitive insides and gummy interior. “I love you—” you breathe shallowly.

Almost imperceptible, but he hears you. When he said it earlier, he didn’t mean a fucking word of it. He’s high, and so are you. So once again, you’re just devils telling tales.

“You look like you’re feeling better, O’Keeffe.” he jokes, you begin to giggle once he pulls his fingers out of your pussy. “I wanna sleep but I’m still wired. Are you sleepy?” he questions.

“Mm-mm.” you hum, shaking your head. “I wanna… I want you to feel better, too.” you inform him.

“How are you gonna do that?”

You smile cheekily at him as you raise your leg between his. You press around his crotch area with your toes. It was already apparently just how hard he was from your dancing and then hearing you moan for him. But apparently he hadn’t expected you to be so brazen. He lets your fingers explore his upper body. Grazing over his pecs and abs as you continue to torment his cock with your foot.

“Are you gonna get me off properly? I’m not super into feet, babe. Willing to try if you’ve got the talent for it, though.”

“No, ‘m not using my feet. Wanna hold you in my hand, take it out f’me Megumi.” you tell him. He scoops you up in his arms and sits you upright at the top of the bed. He sits beside you and begins to unbuckle his jeans. You can see the agonising strain in the form of his bulge in his boxers once he pulls the zipper down.

You know immediately he has an impressive size and you aren’t quite sure if you’re confident enough to deal with it. Yuuji is big too, though, so maybe you’ll be okay.

He groans when he moves his underwear enough to free his cock. It’s heavy and craving, thick and full of lustrous desire. Your mouth is more or less watering at the sight of him. Perfect, you think. Perfect size. Perfect shape. Perfectly defined.

Perfect.

“Are you scared?” he grumbles, his speech is so relaxed it’s almost idle. You can’t answer, because you aren’t sure. You aren’t scared, but you feel like you should be. It’s just a dick, after all. Yuuji has one. Yuuji wasn’t your first, either. But this is Megumi Fushiguro bearing himself to you. He’s willing to let you hear him at his most intimate and vulnerable. And you’re crossing another line. Everything you do with him, every second you spend with him, is another betrayal against Yuuji.

“Show me how you like it.” you tell him.

He takes your hand in his and wraps it around his cock. His hand holds tightly onto yours as he demonstrates how tight he likes it and how fast he likes the strokes. He lets go and allows you to take over, hoping you’re capable of doing what he’s taught you. A slight whimper leaves him as you swipe your thumb over his dripping slit.

“Mmm, leaking s’much Megumi.”

“I won’t last long, been needin’ to cum since I felt you on me last night.” he alerts you.

It only spurs you on. You use his precum to your advantage and lube up his cock with it. You even drool all over him for good measure. It’s so erotic and lewd sounding as you begin to pump him furiously. The way his chest rises and stutters with each rub of your fist is so God damn dreamy. Seeing him so helpless and at the mercy of your touch is heavenly.

“Keep going, a lil faster,” he tells you. It doesn’t go unnoticed how his hips start grinding into you. It’s nice to know you’re equally as impatient when it comes to reaching your climax. ‘Unhh’ and ‘ahh’ language escape him as you don’t let up. Allowing him to fuck your fist as you meet his thrusts with ten times as much vigour.

“Fuck, are you close? You look so pretty when you moan.” you tell him.

“Shut up or you’ll put me off. Tighter, squeeze it tighter. Ah— f-uck oh, hnng.” he finishes. He squirts a copious amount of white, viscous cream which you’re more than happy to milk out of him. Every last drop as his cock flexes and shoots it out. It splashes up his abs and all over your hand. He uses his free hand to push your face into his by the crown of your head.

You straddle him as you kiss, uncaring of the mess between you as his cock begins to soften. It’s a messy, drool filled kiss as your tongues tangle and you breathe against each other.

Into each other.

He carries you into the bathroom, still kissing all of the way there. He sits you down on the counter next to the sink as he undresses. As you wash your hands, he starts up the shower. He stands beside it for a while until it reaches a perfect temperature.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him. He leads the two of you into the shower, allowing the water to warm you both.

He lathers shampoo and conditioner through your hair as you wash your body. You do the same for him, with great difficulty, as you stand on your tip toes so that you can wash his hair properly. You kiss under the water as the shower rinses away all of the suds.

He gets out before you, wrapping a towel around his waist and then holding one open for you to step into. You spend time with him sitting on top of your mattress with nothing but your towels protecting your bodies. He brushes your hair for you. You want to do the same for him, but you start falling asleep.

“You can’t sleep in your towel.” he reminds you. He walks away and returns just as quickly, the mattress sinking behind you once he takes his seat again. “Here, lift your arms,” you do, and you’re greeted to the soft texture of your purple, fluffy vest. “You’ve ruined your shorts. Were those the only pyjamas you bought?”

“Uh,” you pause for a moment as you think, “yeah, they were. But I bought some sweatpants to travel home in. If Gojo is picking us up in the morning, I’ll just wear what I sleep in for the car ride home.” you explain. He gets up, rifling through your shopping bags until he finds them.

“Up.”

You stand to your feet, allowing the towel to drop and pool around your feet. This time, you don’t care if he looks up while he dresses you. You step into the grey sweatpants one foot at a time and wait for him to pull them up your legs.

“Thank you.”

“Get into bed, I need to get ready.” he almost snaps at you. You get cosy under the duvet and hold tightly onto Gerald.

You don’t look at him while he changes his clothes. He has once again decided to forgo his t-shirt and wear matching sweatpants with you to bed. The sound of his bed creaking is like a stab in the heart.

You aren’t sure what you had expected. He isn’t yours and you aren’t his. You’re just classmates in a bad situation sharing a hotel room. He has his own bed and you have yours. You have a boyfriend, but he isn’t here. It doesn’t matter, though. You should only want what’s yours. You shouldn’t want anyone else. You shouldn’t crave another man’s touch. And yet—

“I need you, Megumi.” you speak quietly.

The words are simple and bland. Room for interpretation and nothing too specific. Do you want to fuck? Do you want a hug? It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t need Megumi. But he knows exactly what you want. He gets out of his own bed and you feel a sense of relief when he joins you in yours. His arms wrap around your torso and he nuzzles his nose into your freshly washed hair that smells like cinnamon and toffee.

This town is a horror setting. This room is a mystery. Four walls that you hope will keep your scandalous secret.

It’s all coming to an end, tomorrow.

—

The levels of regret you both feel are infinite. You think he’s been awake longer than you, but he didn’t want to let go. You woke with his arm still wrapped around you, holding you close. Once you stirred, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. You did the same, endlessly entertained by the disgusting popcorn ceiling.

You didn’t utter a word.

Nor did he.

You took turns using the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready. The atmosphere is foul. Impossibly awkward and uncomfortable as you shuffle around each other and still can’t find it in either of you to speak.

He doesn’t even fill you in on what’s happening with Gojo. He declines his calls and texts him instead so that he doesn’t have to break his silence. He doesn’t tell you when he arrives. He simply walks towards the exit and assumes you aren’t dumb enough to stay behind.

Your hair is thrown into a bun and you are painfully aware of what a mess you are. You’re holding Gerald under your arm and carrying your shopping bags in your hands all while struggling to close the hotel room door behind you. Megumi is way ahead of you, and you aren’t sure whether you should bother trying to catch up.

You hand your room key to the receptionist. There’s barely enough energy in you to smile and say goodbye. It’s even worse when you step outside. Gojo is standing with a cheesy grin on his face as he leans against his car.

“Good morning, you two. Let’s get you kiddos home, huh?” he smiles. He unlocks the trunk, and you’re appreciative when he rushes over to grab your bags for you.

It doesn’t surprise you at all that Megumi takes shotgun. You’re more than happy to sit in the backseat and watch the sky. There’s a generic, mundane radio station playing. Maybe even Gojo has a limit on energy in the mornings. You’d half expected him to be playing something annoying just to piss you both off.

“How was your weekend?” he asks the two of you.

“Awful, obviously.”

“Aw don’t be like that. This is a nice town, I bet you found something to do. You’re just being sour because both Toji and I have lives outside of you. But I’m here now, aren’t I? We’ll be home in no time. Or maybe you’re just tired... up all night? Take a nap, Megumi.”

“W-What are you implying? I—”

“He knows I do drugs, O’Keeffe, relax. Couldn’t even do that in peace because of princess buzzkill back there.”

You swallow your tongue and decide to keep silent for the remainder of the journey from that point on. Your eyes are watering but you just about manage to hold it together.

You’re sitting directly behind him, it seemed like the lesser of two evils. But he can see you in the side mirror of the car. You’re wrestling with your conscience and the enormous mistake you made together. You jump a little when you hear your phone ping. You hadn’t expected to hear from anyone today and you begin to pray that it isn’t one of your parents.

Hopefully just a stupid spam email.

It's Megumi.

You don’t remember giving him your number. He must have done it when you were sleeping, or high.

Megumi: Why did you make things weird? You: I didn’t. You gave me the silent treatment. Megumi: Sure. What now? You: Don’t.

“Are you texting Yuuji? I haven’t heard from him since he left. I know it’s only been a week but it’s weird.” Gojo speaks directly to you.

And that is what does you in.

The fact that your boyfriend hadn’t even been gone an entire week before you decided to fool around with someone else.

Someone worse.

Someone who used to be his best friend.

Gojo looks alarmed as you burst into tears, almost slamming the breaks to figure out what happened. Megumi just huffs, though, making him think it isn’t that serious.

“I’m sure I’m wrong but, I’m picking up an odd vibe. I’m usually pretty perceptive but—”

“Gojo shut up. I’m not in the mood and she’s fucking crying, whatever you wanna say just say it instead of doing your annoying step-dad shtick.” Megumi barks, eyes scrunching as he immediately faces the window to avoid making eye contact with Gojo.

“Alright, alright. Grumpy. I wasn’t going to say anything. Sorry for making you cry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have assumed it was him. It’s gotta be tough being without him. I’m sorry, really. And I’m still around for whatever you need.” he tells you.

“T-Thanks Gojo, appreciate it.”

It’s silent for a while. A surprisingly long time given that you’re in a car with someone as insufferable and annoying as Satoru Gojo. He’s a nice guy, you think. But God does he know how to press people’s buttons.

“Though I’m sure you two hooking up probably took the edge off missing him so much.”

“Megumi, you told him?!”

“You just told him, you idiot.”

Your eyes hold shut as you replay what you just did. The oldest trick in the God damn book and you fucking fell for it. So much for your secret staying between those four walls. You aren’t sure if your heart has stopped beating or is beating too fast for you to register. It’s all over, now. He’s going to tell Yuuji and you’re going to lose him.

You’re going to lose everything.

“Oh-ho! That actually worked, I can’t believe it. I knew you had a thing for one of the Fushiguro’s. So you guys… did you fuck?”

“No!” you objects instantly.

“We gave each other handjobs.” Megumi tells him.

“Megumi!”

“You opened your big mouth so may as well set him straight,” Megumi snips at you. “I convinced her to get high and the E made us stupid. She loves Yuuji, it was a mistake on both parts.”

“Gojo, please, I know Yuuji is one of your closest friends but—”

“It’s really none of my business. You’re both fun to annoy so I play around. But secrets aren’t mine to tell. I’m not going to interfere with your relationship, it’s not my place. I’m sure each of you had your reasons.”

“He’s good at keeping secrets, one of the best things about him. Unless they’re about my dad, any chance to get him into shit.”

“That’s because I hate Toji,” he laughs. “And he hates me. That, however, is irrelevant. I’ll take this to my grave for everyone’s sake. I’ve never done drugs so I’m inclined to believe you both were acting out of character because of it. Especially if it’s new for you, sweetheart.”

“I can’t— I really can’t thank you enough, I—”

“That being said,” he interrupts, holding up a finger to silence you both so he can speak. “I don’t believe for a second there isn’t something brewing between you. Tensions are high, I could hear it through the phone when you called me. You’ve opened Pandora’s box and whether it was a mistake or not, there’s a connection between you now that will keep bringing you back together. Deny it all you like, but what happened won’t be a one-time thing. Just be careful, there’s gonna be some heartbreak down the line.”

A deathly silence falls upon the car. Neither you nor Megumi know what to say to him. Your eyes find each other's in the side mirror but you quickly avert your stare as you focus on the clouds in the sky instead.

There’s no way you can let yourself fall into a pattern of seeking comfort in Megumi while Yuuji is away.

It was one mistake.

People make mistakes all of the time. People bounce back from their mistakes, too! You can’t be with him again. Maybe you need to cut him off for good. It’s not like you can’t trust yourself around Megumi. But being near him knowing what you did is going to be a heavy burden of guilt to bear.

Of all of the things he’s done, this has got to be the worst. You know it’s your fault too. You know you could have said no at any point. But you’re sure if he didn’t insist on getting you high it wouldn’t have happened.

You hate him.

You fucking hate him.

He’s like a tornado going above and beyond to destroy everything. How you could let yourself see humanity and kindness in him is embarrassing.

It’s humiliating that you let yourself trust him. You fell for him this weekend. You fell for the idea that he could be something he isn’t.

Normal.

He’s evil, plain and simple. This was a calculated move. A pre-planned scheme to really destroy you in the worst way possible. And you only have yourself to blame.

You’re the one who let him.

—

© 2024 rinhaler

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[dawnrider]

@brain-rot-hour was working on a piece for today's @inukag-week prompt of Personal Space and the conversation evolved to writing about the scenario they created and here we are!

Have a citrus-scented canon universe vignette to go with brain-rot-hour's piece which you will not want to miss. 😏

“Damn monkeys," he growled.   Rolling her eyes, Kagome sighed. "You always let them get to you when they aren't even youkai.” She shook her head with a wry smile. "I can't just kill ‘em. You'd make me feel all guilty.” His face was twisted in a pout, his ears laid back in frustration.  “Pretty sure you'd manage to make yourself feel guilty without my help.”  “Keh.” Deny it though he might, she knew she was right. He was much more of a softy than he liked to admit. “Let’s get that scratch looked at. Don’t want it getting infected.” He nudged her shoulder where his kosode draped down her arm. It was too big, but it was better than her own clothes which were in tatters from the attack. 

She shut the door to the abandoned hut they’d found after herself, waiting for Inuyasha to pass one last inspection and give the nod of approval that it was safe. “Last time I let Shippou rummage through my bag unsupervised,” she grumbled, dropping said bag onto the floor.  The monkeys had been attracted to the smell of fruit soaked into her clothes which the kitsune had spilled when trying to get his crayons from the bottom of her backpack. Needless to say they didn’t understand “no” and “stop that.” Kagome felt lucky that a few small scratches was all she had to show for it. Inuyasha was unfortunate enough to get bitten in the side, so they were taking the time to get cleaned up. Clean water and bandages set aside, Kagome settled herself on the edge of the table so she could get a good look at the bloodied bite just to the left of Inuyasha’s navel. His suikan had been dropped to the floor and she was met with the entire expanse of his torso. A very nice torso that has a bite in it… Swallowing, she used a soft damp cloth to clean the wound, then apologized profusely as she prepared to press the alcohol-soaked cloth to it. She flinched at the same moment he did, but not because of the sting. His large hands, previously pressed onto the tabletop on either side of her, had drifted to her knees and reflexively squeezed when he tensed. He hadn’t caused more pain. In fact… “Sorry,” he murmured. Kagome bit her lip, then went about putting the gauze and tape over his wound. “That scratch… It needs disinfected.” “I can reach it.” “Probably. What if there’s another?” Kagome sucked in a breath as his hands oh-so-carefully brushed aside the length of his kosode, baring her up to her thighs. His nose twitched. “They got your middle too, didn’t they?” “I-I can reach that.” He hummed, his face next to hers so that she couldn’t see his eyes. Kagome felt her heart racing. A shiver went through her when air hit her midriff. “Let me check.” Long warm fingers traced up across her thigh until they met her belly, which tightened at the brush. She struggled not to recoil in surprise, biting her lower lip. “Anything hurt?” A quick shake of her head. His hands returned to her legs, thumbs lightly pushing against the softer skin of her inner thighs until they parted to allow his hips between. “What about here?” he breathed, cheek brushing against hers as he spoke. “Anything stinging?” She murmured that she was fine. “Aching?” She gasped lightly in response. How did he know? She could hear the smirk in his breathy laugh. His hand brushed against the outer side of her knee, fingers curling under and lightly pressing his claws into the soft underneath. “Inuyasha?” she questioned, unable to resist the pull of his soft cheek against her own, the tiniest brush of his lips against her ear. He huffed another laugh at the way she arched into his space. “I’ll make sure there’s not a mark on you.” He paused, pressing a much more intentional kiss to the space just in front of her ear as his thumb pressed a little more into her thigh, claw providing just the slightest prick along the nerve endings. “Not from the monkeys anyway,” he promised. Kagome smiled softly.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

To my only regret

“What if we just ran away? Leave all this behind... you aren’t happy. Not really.” the statuesque beauty pleaded to the only man she ever loved.

Vincent de Gramont turned to her with a look of utter disgust. “You would have me run and hide? Have you no faith in me? No honor?” taking a drag from a cigarette, he proceeded to blow the smoke in her face. “Get out of my sight, before I do something i will regret.”

The beauty coughed and wheezed as she tried to dispel the smoke. fanning her hand in front of her face she looked at him desperately. “Baby, I only need you! We don’t need all this. We just need each other,,…”

“I SAID OUT OF MY FACE BITCH!” The Marquis shouted, before shoving the woman to the floor. “Great. Now I’m the asshole. Perfect. Are you happy?”

The beautiful woman rose to her feet, tears spilling down her face. Raising her nose in the air, she turned and left him alone in the sprawling mansion they’d called home.

That was four years ago.

Vincent stood staring out the window, not seeing anything, but he was remembering. Remembering her tear streaked face, when she had looked up at him from the floor. He should have recognized the finality in her eyes, and chased after her.

He had been too proud at the time.

Despite employing some of the most skilled trackers and bounty hunters that Money could buy, she had been impossible to find. It was as if she had completely disappeared. Every day and every night he was told that they had failed to find her, he became that much more obsessed. She belonged to him, and he hated losing his things.

Pressing the intercom button on his desk, he ordered his assistant to call the last guy you call, if all else fails: Trejo.

Trejo was rumored to have a 100% success rate with locating anyone. In spite of that, you only called him as a last resort. because Trejo didn’t work for money, he only traded in favors. And not any set type of favor either. He could ask for anything, at any time.

Rumors swirled on the things he had demanded from clients, ranging from a night with one clients wife, a heart transplant from another clients child to save one of his own, or to pardon a buddy of his from death row. There'd also been a few more reasonable requests like a rare Hermes bag for some guys wife, and a pet snow leopard. Something like that was easy for him

The Marquis was a very powerful man, with nearly endless resources, but he hated the idea of being in debt to anyone.

He had risen to the top and answered to no one. He was even more powerful than he had been when she ran out of his life. Up until now, he had refused to admit he was so desperate to find her. But the reality of his situation was the memory of her, and not knowing if she was safe, was driving him insane.

“Lilly.” He groaned as he fell back into his chair. “You have been such a bad girl.”

Across the world

“Oh come on, it’s just the fair! No pressure, but I’d like for you to just meet him. He’s such a great guy, and very private.” Lisa begged her friend Lilly, that lived outside of their small town, in a quaint cottage in the woods.

Lisa had always been a warm social person, and three years ago when she heard about the gorgeous French woman that quietly moved in the old cottage, she had made it her personal mission to get to know her.

It hadn’t been easy. Lily had been standoffish and extremely introverted. Lisa had thought she was shy at first, but as time went on she started to think that Lilly was running from something. With how drop dead gorgeous she was, she was sure it was a man.

Every unmarried male, and a lot of the married ones too, would give their right arm to take Lilly on a date. Unfortunately she showed no interest in any males, or the handful of females that had tried either. Lisa started to back her up, by informing g all hopeful suitors that lilly preferred her solitude.

And she had been prepared to accept that her friend was a loner, even if she could not wrap her head around it. But then she'd been at the store the other day, talking to James, and Lilly had waved hello, and James had asked to meet her.

James was Lisas older brother, that every girl in town wanted to marry. She'd had her feelings hurt several times over the years, when she had discovered most of her girl friends were only after her brother. He was too focused on sports and school to even notice any of them, and didn't like the sort of girls that threw themselves at him, so he'd avoided dating anyone all through school.

When he'd moved away for college, everyone thought he'd come back and visit someday. He'd be a successful executive, in a fancy SUV, with a perfect wife and a couple perfectly polished children. He'd always been so focused on his goals, good at everything, and liked by everyone he met, so everyone was convinced he'd never be back.

Lisa had always wondered why nobody wondered if he was gay. There were not any openly gay people in town back then, but he had met a lot of the stereotypical gay checkmarks she saw on TV. He was a pretty boy, that dressed impeccably well, for the area. His room was always spotless and organized, and he had a skin routine. He was very much into self care, and followed a strict diet to maintain his physique. He listened to EDM music, and he turned down all the beautiful women in town. In spite of these signs, not one person questioned his sexuality. She would love him no matter what and that had been that, but she agreed that he'd never move back to their small town.

That was until three months ago when he'd shown up out of the blue to tell her he'd bought a house and was there to stay. He'd bought the Myrtle House on the hill, and was restoring the old Victorian mansion to its former glory. It had seemed odd to her, that a single man would buy a mansion large enough to house 10 families, but it was a very pretty home, and if she had the money, she'd likely have bought it too.

"Well you remember that man I was standing with at the market the other day?" Lisa didn't wait for an answer and just rambled on, "that's my older brother that is restoring that mansion on the hill. He works on that place around the clock, getting it up to standard. Now it was never run down, it was just a bit old fashioned, and a lot of house for most people to keep up with. Just dusting the whole place with all those antiques, is actually one woman's full time job. He has a few house people and grounds people to keep up the maintenance. He's modernizing it functionally, but trying to keep it authentic aesthetically, whatever that means. I never know what he's talking about, but he's actually taking a break and coming to the fair with me and the kids! This never happens, he's like you and prefers his solitude. But oh if I could get my two favorite hermit people, to eat some cotton candy with me, before risking our lives on some rides, that some felon puttogether in 20 minutes, while chain smoking a pack of Newports, I could die happy."

Lilly looked at her friends hopeful expression, and bit back the automatic denial she was about to deliver. It has been three years, and she had taken the necessary steps to disappear. Cut ties with all her friends and family, and kept to herself. If Vince hadn't found her by now, then he probably never even bothered to look, and she'd gone through all that trouble for nothing.

“You know what? Okay. I’ll go to the state fair with you tomorrow. Maybe I'll even make another friend."

Lisa nearly fell out of her chair. Recovering from her shock quickly, she jumped to her feet and hopped up and down clapping. “Oh my god I am so excited. You won’t regret this. I gotta head out, but we’ll be by tomorrow about 5 to pick you up.”

The two women hugged, and Lilly couldn’t help but feel excited over the prospect of doing something so simple as going to a county fair. She had definitely noticed Lisa's brother the other day as well, who had been so shockingly handsome when they met eyes, that she'd lost her ability to speak, and had just waved like an idiot, and kept walking.

Running a brush through her long golden locks, Lilly wondered if all her caution was even necessary. Maybe she was flattering herself thinking Vincent would even come looking for her. He likely had a whole collection of new women to use whenever he saw fit.

She’d watched as the man she loved, became a monster with every bad deed. At first he had been so mysterious and exciting. Everyone knew that he was one of the few surviving families of the French aristocracy, and that he was gorgeous and wealthy, but that was about it. There were pictures of him at various wealthy people events, or the occasional article or magazine dedicated to what he allowed the public to know, but that was vague at best.

She'd been 22 and had thought her love could save him. That if she just loved him hard enough, and was obedient, it would soften his heart. When her friends told her he was controlling and possessive, she'd scoff and say it was protection. That was his love language in her mind. If he took care of you, and cared enough to take time out of his busy day, to keep you safe, than that was flattering. The security detail, location tracking in her jewelry, drivers, and 24 hour surveillance of where they lived were thoughtful precautionary measures. She had to quit working because she made less an hour than one of her security guys cost, and she had three. Plus she needed to be available when he had time to spend with him. He also was very fashionable, and expected her to always look clean and polished.. that in itself, was nearly a full time job..

The first year with him, she'd convinced herself that she just didn't understand how rich people operated, and rationized that he couldn't be a criminal,and famous at the same time. She had learned the art of fooling one self in record time.

The second year she had seen too much to deny the type of people he was involved with. Ever delusional,, she was still convinced they were the bad ones, not her Vincent. He was just a victim of circumstance.

By the third year, she could no longer lie to herself. He wasn't just involved or caught up with the wrong crowd. The Marquis de Gramont was their ring leader; their boss. And the most dangerous man in Paris. She was just another one of his things that he controlled with an iron fist. Everyone had been right.

Back across the world again..

The intercom buzzed and the Marquis took a deep breath before answering. His assistant had been successful in getting Trejo and connected the call.

"Bonsoir. J'ai besoin que tu trouves quelqu'un de très important."

"Shit, I have no idea what you said there, but let me just say it's an honor to finally speak with you Mister Marquis! Can I call you Vinnie?" The man boomed through the telephone.

The Marquis dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples. Hehated when people were so I formal with him, but he'd just have to let it slide for now. " That is fine. I need you to find someone very important to me. I need your absolute discretion and the target must not know she has been found. Can you accomplish this?"

"Shit yeah. You scratch my back amigo and I'll send you the address of that Lilly girl that ran out on you a few years back. I'll even get you a couple of nice pictures if you like."

The Marquis eyes shot open and he was temporarily stunned into silence. "How? When? Who?" He shook himself literally to get ahold of himself. He was nobility, not some bumbling peasant!

"I have always been pretty good at figuring out what people want, before they even know they want it." Trejo shared. "Now have we got ourselves a deal. I don't have a favor in mind yet, but I'm sure something will come up soon, you can help me with."

The Marquis fists clenched and he took a deep breath. He didn't even care about what this man desired. He'd have it. Nothing was too much for her. He'd go pick her up himself. Show her he'd forgiven her for her little tantrum, and she was never to do it again. She was his and that's all there was to it. She was coming home.

His Lilly

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 32: Beau's Burger

Beau left the nightclub after his fight with Luigi cursing under his breath. Who would have guessed that plumhole was so strong!? Now his wrist complained bitterly whenever he bent it at any angle, and Beau couldn’t afford problems like that, in multiple ways for multiple reasons.

He hadn’t had a chance to grab a bite to eat at the club and now he was starving on top of everything else. Considering his nearly empty fridge at home he turned towards the first burger joint he saw. Greasy fast food wouldn’t fix his hand, but it beat scrounging up scraps back at his place.

---------------------------------------------

He arrived and spun out of his costume, with its tight gloves that were pinching his swollen wrist. Heading up to the register he ordered his favorite deluxe burger combo from the pretty cashier. He even added a mint chocolate milkshake, figuring he could hold it against his forearm to numb the pain.

When he heard “Order Up!” Beau eagerly grabbed his tray only to almost spill his shake when he had to drop it back down on the counter. His injured wrist had felt like it was ripping in half when he used it. He let loose with a string of forbidden words, startling the other sim.

---------------------------------------------

He started to ask her to bag his meal up so he could carry it home one handed and suffer in private, but she surprised him by grabbing the tray herself.

She called over her shoulder: “Taking my break, be back in 15” as she strode around the counter to the foggy eyed Beau. He could only give her a weak thankful smile as she led the way to a table by the window saying, “This is my favorite spot, it’s got a can’t miss view of the laundromat”.

He sat down where she placed his tray and took a bite of his burger, looking up with surprise as she slid in across from him. “Thank you…?” he said as he squinted at her name badge. “Breanne”, she replied, “and you’re welcome. Waving at his arm she continued “if you don’t mind me asking, what happened here?”

---------------------------------------------

Beau grumbled, gingerly making a fist and releasing it, wincing at the pain. “An old enemy heard me tell his friend that I didn’t like their stupid Star Wars costume. His Highness took exception to my honesty and picked a fight. He got lucky and I got hurt. Happy Spooky Day to me I guess.”

Breanne nodded along, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her cap and looking up at him from under her bangs as she replied: “Sounds like you picked the wrong Jedi to tussle with. I admit Star Wars isn’t my cup of tea either, but sometimes you gotta let the fans have their day.”

He swallowed his impulse to correct her about Luigi’s costume along with a gulp of his shake. Her statement was true where it mattered. If he was honest, he’d mostly been looking for an excuse to put the boot to his royal pain in the ass, but unfortunately, he’d been the one that had gotten his butt kicked.

---------------------------------------------

Beau’s tablemate was exactly his type, and he suddenly realized that he might salvage something out of the evening after all. He turned the focus of the conversation by asking after her own preference for Spooky Day attire.

She lit up, giving an oddly fascinating explanation of her candle making side hustle and her wish to make a giant, scented and glowing, costume some year. They spent the next few minutes happily chatting about their hobbies and interests. Learning he was on the University E-Sports team she glanced down again at his aching wrist. “So, you’re headed to the clinic to patch up your mousing hand as soon as you finish our fine cuisine”?

Beau laughed bitterly. “I wish. Sadly, I’m not really rolling in simoleons.” He went on to say he’d be fine, he just needed some ice, a good night’s sleep, and worst case he knew his dad had a wrist brace lying around the house somewhere. As he said the words, he silently hoped they were true.

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She frowned at that but didn’t comment. Rising instead she said “Welp, break times over for me, back to the grind! Good luck with everything kid”.

Before she could walk away Beau forced himself to push past his anxiety and take a chance on being rejected. He blurted out “Hey, can I get your number? Take you out somewhere with an even better view of the laundromat?”

Breanne made his whole week by pointing back at him with a smile as she said “come back tomorrow with a wrist brace, and its yours”. He didn’t know why she’d been so nice, but she was right. Barring a miracle, he’d need his dad’s brace (and painkillers…) to get through his next e-sports practice!

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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[skylarmoon71]

Winchester - (Supernatural / Smallville Crossover AU) - Chapter 11

For a while he’s just been looking at you.

You’re wondering if he’s trying to concoct some kind of lie or plan.��

“You’re still very beautiful (Y/N).” 

Your face twists in disgust. 

“Dude seriously! You’re wearing the face of my brother, are you really hitting on me right now!” 

You can’t believe this. 

He looks away. 

“I apologise.”

You just shrug it off. 

“Whatever, just spill.” 

He finally looks back at you. 

“You try to pretend, but I can see through you.”

“You don’t know me Michael.” 

“I know you, better than you know yourself.” 

You swallow, shifting. Right about now you’d like to push it all down. Staring at him, you can see those wings so clearly. Your abilities are a lot stronger than when he first met you, maybe that’s why everything he says seems to be a trigger for those months you spent together. 

That time.

“So I’m just wondering, how come you look human?” 

“This appearance is a copy of a human I saw on a screen.” 

He points to the television. 

“I believe the name was Nicholas Hoult.” 

Your eyes widened. 

“Oh shit, I knew this guy looked familiar, you copied a freaking celebrity, that’s awesome!” 

You’re laughing and he looks confused. 

“This is amusing to you?” 

“Of course, you’re walking around with an actor’s face, it's freaking hilarious.” 

You’re laughing again and he just watches. 

“My true form is hard for humans to perceive. You’re the first one who’s ever seen me.” Your laughter dies down, and this time you look at him. 

“So the glowing and those wings..”

“Yes.” 

You’re not sure how to feel about that. Even less now that you know you’re the only one who sees it. You mean to ask more questions, but the ringing of your cell phone catches your attention. The minute you see the caller ID, you press the end button. 

You wish Dean would just give up. You’ve gotten a few calls from Sam as well, so you can only guess that they’re travelling together again. 

“Damn hypocrite.” 

He gave a big self righteous speech about family staying together, but then he ran off. Now he’s probably kicking it with Dean and he wants you to just come back and act like a happy family. That’s laughable. 

“You’re upset.” 

“Wow, you don’t say.” 

You don’t mean to be snappy, it’s just not something you like to talk about. Then again, it’s not like you have anyone else to talk to. Dropping the phone on the dresser, you look at him. 

“It’s my brothers.” You explain. 

He looks thoughtful and you just reach for the remote. Maybe a crappy movie will distract you from your sucky life choices. 

“You don’t speak to your brothers?” 

“Nope, I left them to do my own thing. Our dad had this shitty plan and I wasn’t interested, so I tried to be normal, but that didn’t work either. So now I spend my time in busted hotels chasing after every evil son of a bitch so I can gank them. Yep, I’m living the life.” 

You’re still clicking through the channels. 

You’re a little annoyed, because it’s been months since you’ve had even a drop of alcohol. With your brothers at least you got a beer here and there. Unfortunately not many people are interested in selling beer to minors. 

“Curse you youth!”

The best you get is grape soda. 

“I understand how you feel.” 

“Yeah, sure you do wings.” You’re not paying much attention to him. 

“I have a brother too.” 

Maybe it’s the tone that causes you to look over. For a minute you almost forget who you’re talking to. If you remember right, his brother is quite literally the devil. 

“Oh shit…Sorry I-” 

“You don’t have to apologise.” 

He sounds agitated and before you can work up an apology, he’s gone.

“Good going (Y/N).” 

You drop back on the bed in defeat. 

For the next week you don’t really see him at all. You expect as much. Anyone would be pissed at your comments. 

The next time you do see him, he’s sitting in the room that you’ve just booked. You’re a bit relieved. Closing the door, you put your bag on the table. 

“I was starting to think you abandoned me.” You joke. 

Your hope was to ease the tension, but he’s never had much of a sense of humour. 

You deflate. 

“Listen Michael, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive. I was sitting there whining about my brothers when yours is literally the worst in every possible way.” 

You can’t imagine such a situation being easy for him, but you get it, dysfunctional family is your specialty. Moving to his side on the bed, you reach over a bit hesitant. When you place your hand over his. He doesn’t poof away again which is a relief. He finally looks at you, you’re happy he doesn’t look as upset as before. 

“I don’t think there’s really anything I can say to help you, but I do know how hard it is, especially with family.” 

Maybe you reach him, because he turns his hand over, taking your hand. The gesture actually makes you blush. His eyes now seem to be studying your face. 

“Your face is red, is something wrong?” 

He looks ready to heal any injury and you laugh bashfully.

“I-I’m fine, don't worry about it.” 

This time he lifts both his hands, cupping your cheeks and your eyes widen. It’s almost like he’s trying to understand what’s happening. 

“Is this normal occurrence for humans?” 

His face is way too close. 

“I…uh..um..” 

You’re babbling incoherently. 

He might actually give you a heart attack, that has to be his end goal.

[ptrckjcne]

⇨ What You Do When You Love Someone

pairing: luke alvez x penelope garcia word count: 3.5k timeline: canon divergent, post evolution 16x06

luke deals with the aftermath of the explosion. penelope takes care of him.

read on archive of our own, or below the cut!

He was dizzy. He had been hiding it, knowing he would have been sent home the very same second he opened his mouth if he had let anyone know, but he was dizzy. Oh, and he had a headache. Getting into it, he was in a fair share of pain too, but like his dizziness and the headache, he wasn’t about to let it spill. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Luke had been within close proximity of an explosion (though he did believe it was the first time he’d been attempted killed by someone with the mentality of Sicarius), but it still didn’t mean he was immune to the unfortunate side-effects – such as the dizziness, the pain, and the faint ringing in his ears. 

Luke groaned as he shifted in his chair, the bullpen quiet around him. He was desperately trying to focus on the paperwork on his desk, the report of the explosion he had just been in doing nothing to help with any of his post-explosion symptoms. Most of the team had gone home long ago; JJ had left as soon as she had been able to, wishing to spend her evening within the comfort of her own home with her family. He had barely seen Penelope since his return to the headquarters, same with David. Emily, however, had stuck around, hovering around him like a ghost, and while it was something along the lines of stressful, it was still oddly comforting. 

It was almost like she knew he was hiding something, and instead of pushing him to spill, she would look out for him. Her route to whatever, wherever, would be placed right alongside Luke’s desk, something new shoved across the surface each time – a cup of coffee, tylenol, a sandwich, a chocolate bar. At one point she even shoved a stack of post-it notes onto his desk, the top one displaying a short, but sweet message about how he was doing a good job (the bit about his work not going to be so good if he didn’t go home and rest was unwritten, but heavily implied, and he could see it in her eyes when he lifted his gaze and made eye-contact with her).

The next time she stopped by his desk, she stopped, pulling a chair closer as she found herself sitting down to keep him company. “How much does it hurt?”

“What?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Alvez.” Emily spoke dryly, shifting her position slightly as she crossed one leg over the other. However, he didn’t respond, hanging his head low as he tried to return his focus to the words on the pages scattered across the desk. “If it’s like anything I’ve ever experienced, you’re probably dizzy, you have a headache and ringing of the ears, as well as various aspects of other physical pains.” She trailed off, tilting her head slightly as his hand came up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ground himself, the words on the pages jumbling together. “Right?”

He sighed, letting his hand drop to the desk as he sat back, stifling another groan. “I’m fine, Prentiss. I really am.” Luke offered her a weak smile, knowing it was the furthest thing from convincing – he just had to try. After all, if successful, he could be coaxing her away from his desk so he could find an abandoned office where he could be spending the night, the overnight bag he kept at his desk meaning he technically wouldn’t have to go home for clothes – and, seeing as Roxy was with her dog sitter for the night, he didn’t have anyone waiting for him. “I’ll try to get this-,” he waved his hand wildly around the desk, not to a specific sheet of paper, though to the entire mess in general. “By the end of the night. The sooner we move on and catch this sick son of a bitch, the better.” 

“You know I agree, Luke.” Emily sighed, head still tilted as he finally lifted his gaze to look at her, his eyes betraying his words as he truly showed how tired he was. “But we won’t be able to catch this son of a bitch if you fall asleep in the middle of a take-down, or if we have to check you into the emergency room because you haven’t been looking out for yourself.” 

“It’s okay, I promise. I can survive a little pain. As for being dizzy, I’ve had my fair share of carousel-rides during my childhood, and this little thing’s got nothing on what I went through back then.” He scoffed, poorly masking the wince that came with the jolting huff that came to his ribs. Emily, however, chose not to comment on it, though the frown conquered her face, even for just a brief second, gave her away. “Besides, I’ve been through worse. Some bruised ribs and a headache won’t stop me, no matter how much it hurts.” Luke flashed her a crooked, toothy grin, and while it didn’t reach his eyes, and it definitely didn’t convince Emily of whatever it was he wanted to truly tell her, she sighed somewhat defeatedly and got up, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t overdo it, Luke. Promise me that?”

His smile faltered, exchanged for a smaller, albeit genuine one as he nodded. “Yeah, I promise. I’ll head out as soon as this is done.” 

“Don’t think I won’t notice if you stay.” Emily responded, her tone sounding an awful lot like a warning, which seemed off, because she wouldn’t be warning him, a former Army Ranger, to head home and take care of himself? Surely he was able to reach those conclusions on his own. 

Luke’s mind seemed to cloud over again as Emily left, the words still nothing but a still jumble on the papers, and he found himself pinching the bridge of his nose, wincing slightly at something of an aftershave stench overwhelmed his senses as another agent rushed past his desk. Part of him could feel Emily’s gaze on him from where she stood on the walkway outside her office, clearly still worrying about him, and Luke wondered – just for a moment – if she would have been worrying about JJ the same way if she had still been around the bullpen, and not at home with her family.

He kept avoiding her, time feeling like it was standing still or moving at the pace of a sloth, and at some point he must have dozed off, because when he came to it, someone was sitting in the chair opposite of him – and this time it wasn’t Emily. Luke rubbed his eyes tiredly, beard scratching against the palms of his hands as he huffed into his hands. “Hey there. Been here a long time?”

“Half an hour, maybe.” Penelope sighed, her tone gentle as she looked at him, head slightly tilted. Luke found himself trying to wrap his head around just why she was sitting opposite of him, knowing she went home at a somewhat respectable hour (unlike himself), knowing she hated having to stay longer than she was needed to. He wasn’t going to lie, he did feel guilty that they had roped her back into it, but he didn’t regret it even for a second. Especially not when it had her sitting there, by his desk, keeping his hurt self company as he became far too aware that he’d never be able to finalise the report on his desk. “You know, she’s not expecting you to finish that.”

“No.” Luke admitted sheepishly, wincing slightly as he leaned back against the chair, the hard edge of the chair pressing against his sore back. “But I am expecting me to finish it.”

Penelope seemed like she wanted to respond, yet remained quiet, instead standing and offering Luke a hand. “Come on, you’re going home.” Her tone was still quiet and gentle, a tone that was far too easy for Luke to tell no, maybe even ignore, if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was Penelope. “Don’t you think Roxy is waiting for you? I���m sure she’s been pacing around, waiting for you to take her on her evening walk all afternoon.” 

“Roxy’s – uh, she’s with her dog sitter.” Luke lifted a hand to rub at his neck, muscles sore where he worked to relieve some of the tension. He froze, though, as Penelope came around the desk, linking her hand with his. “What are you–,”

“I’m taking you home, Luke.” 

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, though he didn’t stand, even when Penelope gave his hand a gentle tug. “I thought we-,”

This got Penelope to roll her eyes, even just slightly, as she gave his hand another tug, a bit firmer this time. She dropped his hand as if it was a hot potato, though, when he winced, the jostling move of her tug upsetting his sore muscles. “Thinking is not your strong-suit, so please, just get up and let me take you home.” Penelope sighed again, not quite able to hide the pleased grin on her face as he came to standing up, towering above her. Throwing a look in the direction of Emily’s office, and though the blinds were shut, he was certain Penelope’s late-night return to the office was her doing.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he told himself he would have to thank her for it.

“I’m driving.” He grumbled as he ambled behind her, the pleased bounce in her step keeping her at a pace a little too quick for him. Truthfully, had it been earlier in the day – before he sat down at his desk – he could have been able to keep up with her, the adrenaline keeping his head in the game. She didn’t complain, however, as he got into the driver’s seat, happily getting into the passenger’s seat herself. Penelope did, however, tamper with the radio, some god awful pop-song channel flowing from the radio, causing Luke to grimace (not necessarily because the songs were so bad, but because they didn’t go very well with his headache).

Reaching Luke’s apartment building, it was Penelope who followed behind Luke in a slow pace, eyebrows furrowed as she observed him fumble with the keys to his front door, not failing to pick up on his grumbling (though she didn’t pick up exactly what he was grumbling). “Look, I’m fine – you don’t have to come in.” Luke sighed, turning on his heel to look at her, though found himself turning too quickly and ended up swaying on his feet. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll let you help me get inside and to the couch.” 

Penelope reached out, one hand gently on his forearm, the other on his shoulder, as she led him inside. “Go shower, Luke, and I’ll freshen this place up a little bit.” She shot him a reassuring smile, immediately getting herself to work. The drapes remained closed, although she cracked open a couple of windows. In one of the cupboards in Luke’s kitchen, Penelope found a couple of scented candles that he couldn’t remember he had ever gotten (which meant they were left there when Lisa moved out). Humming to herself, she moved around, though it was not until she had to physically push (more like gently nudge, not wanting to cause any pain) Luke out of the way, she sighed, tilting her head to look at him. “I wasn’t aware you were that quick to shower. Interesting choice to put on the same outfit as well.”

“Penelope-,”

“Luke.” She cut him off, hands placed firmly against his shoulders as he swallowed nervously. “Go shower, please. I’ll order something for us to eat, because I took one look in your fridge, and we need to do something about the food you keep in your house, mister.” She swatted at his chest, nudging past him to fetch the take-out menus she had found in his kitchen. He remained in the same spot for a while longer, simply observing her, how at home she seemed within the walls of his residence, his home, and it left him with a mixed set of emotions as he compared it to the tragedy they called their date.

Eventually, he caved, though he cut down his shower-time drastically, keeping it a lot closer to the three minute Navy-length than his usual ten minutes. Dressed in grey sweats and a black t-shirt, he returned to the living room, finding Penelope there, looking very much at home on his couch, the remote to his TV in her hand. “What did you order?”

“Indian, from that place down the street. You had circled out some options on the menu, so you better hope they’re good, or I will complain for the rest of the night.” Penelope shrugged, pulling up some ridiculous reality show on the TV, before patting the couch next to her. “Come on, I know you’re in pain, so I got you some tylenol. I know you didn’t actually take any of the ones Emily offered to you. Even that Douglas guy reported to her that he saw you drop things into the drawer on your desk.”

He sat down, but was quick to shift uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing nervously – again. “Yeah, I-,” he cleared his throat a little, focusing his gaze on the screen, trying to ignore the throbbing of his head at the fluorescent light flickering from the TV screen. “Didn’t feel right, I guess.”

“So you’d much rather be in pain?” Penelope turned towards him, her focus completely abandoning the TV screen and the fairly stupid episode of some dating show that was playing on it. “Luke, please look at me. I worry about you.” She scooted a little closer, noticing how his jaw clenched as she reached out to put her hand on his forearm, the soft fabric of his hoodie transferring the warmth of her palm to his skin. “I sat by and watched your camera feed die. I thought you had died.”

He sighed heavily, breathing ragged as he tilted his head in her direction, bruises along his ribs hurting – grounding him. “But I didn’t.”

“You could have.” Penelope’s voice was weaker, the grip on Luke’s arm tightening, and he found himself grateful that it wasn’t his hurt wrist she was holding onto as he sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I could have lived with myself if you died out there in the field, and it would not just be because I had been watching the feed go dead.” 

Luke snorted out a laugh, an inelegant sound as he turned away from her again, stretching his legs out underneath the coffee table. “Is that so?” His tone was cooler again, jaw set tensely. He didn’t mean to come across as rude, or cold, or to dismiss Penelope’s feelings. No, actually, Penelope’s feelings was one of the things he cared the very most about, but even three years after the tragedy of a dinner, it still stung, the hurt and possibly even regret seeping out of him. He had offered his heart to her, and had it stomped on in return. “Look, I’m fine and I’m alive. Guess you won’t have to figure out what it’s like to live without me just yet.”

For a fleeting moment, Penelope thought of Tyler, who probably spent his afternoon lounging on the couch of her apartment, covered in short, black cat hairs, both him and the cats’ fur a stark contrast to the otherwise bright and happy vibe of her apartment. But Tyler didn’t matter. No, Tyler who had somehow pushed himself into Penelope’s life, and found himself occupying the apartment belonging to Penelope, he didn’t matter – at all. 

Luke? Luke mattered.

“I’m glad I don’t have to live without you.” Penelope uttered, voice a little stronger, her gaze locked on him as he pulled away from her touch, groaning as he stood up to pace. There was a slight limp in his step, and hadn’t it been for their current situation, their current conversation, Penelope would have eased him back down, asked him what hurt, and she would have gotten something to ice it down with. Right now, however, he needed to pace, and she somehow just knew. 

He froze, turned, dark eyes looking at her as he sought out what she meant. “What’s that supposed to mean? Last time we had a true heart-to-heart, that wasn’t related to work, you told me my person is still out there, and so is yours.” Luke’s voice had dropped, barely even a whisper as he trailed off, struggling as he tore his gaze away from her. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and found both his courage and his voice as he turned back to her. “How am I supposed to know what to do, or say, when this is how we do things?”

“What if I came to realise I messed up?” Penelope was standing now too, and she wasn’t quite sure when it happened, but it felt needed – she felt in the need of evening their battleground, even as Luke still stood taller than her (and truth be told, he might not be angry now, but just the view of his tensed up self now, Penelope found herself feeling sorry for those in life who had to come up against an angry Luke). 

Luke laughed, a bitter and harsh sound as he lifted his hand to rub at his jaw, the scratching sound almost hypnotic along with the sounds from the TV, which they, quite frankly, had forgotten was even on. He opened his mouth, about to continue, when the doorbell rang, and his hand fell, along with their built up tempers and walls, and Penelope sighed. 

“I guess that’s the food.” She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, watching as Luke huffed, crossing the living room to find his wallet, nearly mutely accepting the food and handing the delivery guy his tip. “Luke, I’m sorry-,”

“You’re not making it any easier, you know.” He groused, his back turned to her as he picked plates from the cupboards of his kitchen, stiff muscles long lost to adrenaline (though he was already dreading the silent approach of night, when he would be alone with his head and his pains). “This whole situation, you, me, my feelings, the explosion, everything that comes with it – I had it all under control.”

Penelope remained quiet, swallowing nervously as she watched him, his slow movements as he turned, pressing his back against the counter. Luke’s gaze had softened, a deep sigh rolling off him as if it brought some of the weight from his shoulders with it. “What do you mean?”

He laughed again, though this time it was free, it was happier. “Come on, Penelope.” Luke wrapped his fingers around the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the hard edge of the marble. “You know, I was really excited for that date we went on. I don’t know why it failed, though … maybe we tried too hard, maybe I had too many expectations.” He sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he lowered his head. “I don’t know. I think I failed you, and I’ve hated myself for that.”

“No, Luke – you didn’t fail anyone.” Penelope rushed out, and though she had walked over to him twice, and kissed him thoroughly, in her mind already, she was still standing in the living room, both the couch and Luke’s kitchen island keeping them divided. “I was nervous. I haven’t had the best experiences with dates, and I guess I was just stressing out about it, but then-,” she trailed off, swallowing hard as she felt herself choke up. “Watching that feed, and seeing it all go away … I couldn’t cope with it, Luke.”

His gaze had returned upwards, meeting hers as he sunk his teeth deep into his lower lip. “I know we have dinner, like, right here-,” he motioned towards the kitchen island, where the thin, white plastic bag containing the warm Indian food she had ordered for them stood, plates and cutlery neatly placed next to it. “But, I need to ask you this.”

Luke breathed the words out, as he moved to the back of the couch, still keeping the piece of furniture between them, as if he thought it could protect him if Penelope decided to act out. “I would really like to take you out on another date.” He uttered the words slowly, almost as if he was tasting each letter, trying out one word at the time to see how Penelope’s face changed into a responding expression. “Besides, I do believe I owe you a lunch, where work-talk is strictly forbidden.” 

She didn’t respond, not right away, though she moved closer, leaning across the couch to press a sweet, gentle kiss against his lips. “I would like that very much, Luke.” Penelope giggled, and Luke swore right then and there he had heard his favourite sound. “First, though, I say we have some hopefully good Indian food, and watch a movie, okay?”

He grinned – dumbly and widely – feeling as if he was living in some sort of haze. “Yeah, that sounds nice, Penelope.”

[milady-pink]

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1874 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"A Soft Place To Fall "

Recipe Book

AO3

It’s been days since Christine spilled the beans and told Raoul that she was expecting. Currently, Meg, Carlotta and herself were restocking the pantry in the back of the diner. The day was a long one, customer after customer, and now was a good time to rest and relax even if she was still on the clock. They had left the back exit door slightly ajar, letting a warm breeze blow in from outside, carrying with it the smell of cut grass and rain. Once they had finished wiping down the tables for the day, the sun had started to set, casting the diner’s interior in a glow of soft pinks and oranges.

It was always a magical time for the three waitresses; enjoying their safe space before heading home to their regular dreary lives.

Carlotta was going on about how one of her breasts is so much lower than the other she’s starting to look like a Picasso painting. Unfortunately for her, Christine was too busy counting her extra tips from the day, the total number never giving her much happiness.

Taking notice that she’s lost her audience, the voluptuous woman questions her friend, “So, how’d ya do today?”

Without looking she continues to restock the flour container from the large paper bag. “Well, between table five’s Mr. Frugalman and table seven’s ‘I’ll Get You Next Time’, not great.” She lets out a small sigh. “Actually thinkin’ of asking Piangi for some extra shifts.”

This caught Carlotta’s attention, knowing how hard working her friend already was she was astounded when Christine revealed her ideas for taking on more work load. “Girl are you crazy? You work hard enough as it is.” She pulls out a familiar blue book from the pantry, looking at her pregnant coworker in confusion. “Why was this next to the cinnamon?”

Christine looks over her shoulder from where she’s crouched on the ground, putting the flour sack away. “Oh…” she stated, raising back up, “I was looking around for that…” she trailed off with little enthusiasm.

Holding the photo album between her thumb and four manicured fingers, with the other planted on her full hip, Carlotta states the obvious. “Doll, ya can’t write a letter to your baby from the pantry’s spice rack.” She sassed.

“Well, ‘m not really a writer, so…” Christine responded, too tired to fight about how she should start caring for her unborn child. The one she didn’t even want.

Thankfully for her the redhead drops the subject, simply putting the baby book on the counter. Instead, Carlotta focuses her attention on the abnormally quiet blonde waitress, who was looking quite red in the face. “Are you alright, blonde?”

Her smaller frame was a jittering mess, barely able to keep the walnuts from spilling everywhere. “Oh, nothin’,” she feigned, “just havin’ a small anxiety attack that’s all.” Christine and Carlotta shared a look at this news. They didn’t have to pry from her though, disclosing to her friends, “I got a message on my dating profile.”

Both older women had their jaws wide open, unsure if they heard the quirky girl correctly. 

Christine is the first to break the surprised silence. “And you’ve been keepin’ this information from us all day?”

Meg must have been pretty pleased with herself, regardless if she knew it or not, because her face betrayed her; a small smile appeared on her lips. “His name is NKBrigade, he’s 32 years old, has all of his hair, a kind smile, loves cooking, puzzles, and classical music.” Her smile only grew as she described her potential beau.

Her friends could not contain their happiness for the blonde, secretly hoping she gets the perfect ending both of them so desperately wanted when they were young.

Placing a friendly hand on her shoulder, Christine tells her friend truthfully, “He sounds perfect, Meg!”

“Look at you,” jumped in Carlotta, “already got the boys lining the block. Start tellin’ ‘em to take a number!” She joked.

The nerves starting to crack through her happy mood, Meg starts to bite her thumbnail. “Yeah, it's really happening. We even agreed to meet up for a 5-minute date tonight!”

“5 minutes?” Both Christine and Carlotta asked simultaneously.

Rolling her eyes, Meg puts the lid back on the container she just refilled. “That way if things go horribly, I’ll be home in time for ‘History’s Mysteries’.” She answered as if the answer was obvious.

Christine shrugged her shoulders, resigning herself to continue restocking the sugar container, but Carlotta used the opportunity to approach her.

“Meg, you already know that you are such a natural beauty,” she started, her words brightening the blonde’s already happy mood, “so because this is such a special occasion, would you let me put a bit of makeup on you? And, let your hair down out of that ponytail— just this once?” The redhead was practically begging, her hands clasped together in front of her chest.

She thought for a moment before answering. “Well, first impressions are important, especially first dates.” She relented, not so afraid of stepping out of her comfort zone a bit more with the help of her friends. “And Christine,” she asked, catching her attention, “could I ask you to bake ‘Meet Your Dream Chocolate Cream Pie’? A man’s heart is through my stomach.” She laughed.

Smiling, saying that she would be more than happy to make it for her. “In fact, I’ll even make it more special than the one my mama and I used to make.” 

Sugar

Butter

Flour

Suddenly, inspiration overtook Christine with an incoming gust of wam evening air. “I’ll put together ingredients you wouldn’t think go together, but make something truly unique.”

Meg was the only one who dared ask what she was thinking. “What’s gonna be in it?” Asking as she sat on a work stool, getting her makeup done by Carlotta.

“I’ll switch the regular bittersweet chocolate to creamy milk, even add a touch of passion fruit.” She responded as she started to busy herself around the kitchen grabbing all the ingredients she’ll need.

“Then,” she continued, “I’ll mix in somethin’ that could make things feel possible. Like, an exotic spice that makes you see everything before it’s too late—maybe—“

While she was applying mascara to Meg, Carlotta asked the baker, “What’s goin’ on with you? Like a woman possessed…by pie.”

Deciding out of everyone in her life, these two who have been there for her through thick and thin, are deserving of her plan. “You know about that pie contest comin’ to Springfield in a few months?” Both girls nod their heads. “I’m gonna do it. I’ll figure out a way to save enough money, go there, and enter.” She takes a break from kneading the chocolate pie dough to look back at her friends, hoping they think its a good idea.

“That sounds like the first thing that’s made sense to come outta your mouth in forever.” She teased, packing up her small toiletry bag of cosmetics.

Christine continues disclosing her plan, “If by some miracle that I win, I’m takin’ that prize money and I’m gonna…” Trailing off, letting her head get too excited with the possibility.

“You’ll leave Raoul is what you’ll do,” filled in Carlotta who places a comforting hand on Christine’s shoulder.

She simply nods her head in agreement, “And just run away from all this.”

“Wow…” responds Meg, complete with a new do.

The hand on Christine’s shoulder squeezes, “Doll, you can leave Raoul without running away” she countered.

“It’s not that easy…never is…”

Sensing there was more than she was letting on, Carlotta dropped trying to make her stay. She knew from experience it wasn’t easy to get out of this rundown town, but she wanted nothing more than to see Christine succeed in her endeavors. 

“Okay, then get yourself a nice little pie shop somewhere. A place people could really use a pie shop. Like Europe—or Canada.” That caused her to huff out a laugh, mixing the pie filling while the dough chilled in the fridge.

“Christine’s Pie Palace,” Meg offered as a shop name.

“Christine’s Pastry Heaven,” tried Carlotta.

“Christine’s Pie In The Sky.”

The girls continued to nurture their various dreams, knowing that at the end of even the worst of days, you can always dream of a better tomorrow. Maybe it was the pie, but Christine felt like she was back in the kitchen with her mom as a young girl again. The woman who taught her to dream big, and follow through with the real life attributes that will help accomplish that dream. Even after years of baking and growing up, some dreams have changed but not all of them. No, she never thought she’d end up waiting tables at a diner, pregnant with her awful husband’s baby. But she did get to bake everyday, make pies for the folks that she’s grown up with, and new faces that remind her exactly why she puts in the extra effort when baking.

Sometimes, Christine reasoned, the dream may change but the root want of that dream stays the same. 

“Look what you did, you almost made me pretty!” Meg told Carlotta as she stared at her reflection in a compact mirror.

“Almost?” Christine asked, “You’re beautiful.”

The happy moment was broken when Piangi claimed that he was going to die from ‘Estrogen Asphyxiation’.

As she cleaned up with a wet rag, Christine noticed from the corner of her eye that Carlotta was putting on some red lipstick. 

“And who are you puttin’ that on for? Tryna spice up a diaper change?” She teased.

Looking pleasantly smug about herself the redhead responded, “Well, maybe I got myself a little secret. Been doin’ my own dreamin’ too.”

“What!?” Meg practically squealed out loud.

“‘M not tellin’ you yet.”

“Why not,” asked Christine.

“Goodbye, Meg— don’t do somethin’ I haven’t done. Do you need a five-minute condom?”

Christine laughed at her audacity, whereas Meg gasped and replied no. With an, ‘Adios, me amigas’, Carlotta made her exit. Just the two of them alone, Meg approached Christine and startled her with a very sweet hug.

She told her, “You are the queen of kindness and goodness”, as she released Christine, making her feel utterly grateful for the friendships she has with her coworkers.

Christine is the last to leave, locking up the diner as usual. No one accompanies her on the bus ride home, which she’s thankful for because she likes the time to think.

Back at her home, Christine calls out to her husband, only to find the house completely empty. Instead of worrying where Raoul was, instead she takes the extra earnings she made that day in tips, and stuffs it into the couch’s cushions. There was a small tear in the fabric at the bottom, making a pocket between the cover and foam, and that is where Christine arranges the various dollars to keep hidden from Raoul. All she had to do was keep doing this for the next few months, moving the cash to a better spot as it gets bigger, and she will be home free to get to Springfield and enter that contest.

I’m doin’ it mama, for both of us.

[merchantofwhispers]

"Shouldn't.. Have had too.."

The words fell from her lips slowly, head nodding in understanding. It explained everything she needed to know and everything he would say from that moment on, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to make a point to force him to say it anyways.

"Shouldn't have covered your own ass." Gemina took a seat across from him and crossed one leg over the other, hands folded neatly at her midsection as she stared at the clearly bothered man. "Joey, have you considered that you simply-.. Suck?" The question came with a light pause, just long enough to make Joey's blood pressure visibly rise. "I swear, every year its a new problem and you always expect me to go cleaning it up. You never go to anyone else either, do you? All the cleaners in the world and you come to me."

Joey immediately opened his mouth, frustrated noises spilling out even as she made little clicking noises with her tongue. "No, because you think that if you throw enough money at me I'll just make your messes go away." Her lips curled downwards, nostrils flaring as she let her distaste of the situation show. "Joey, I don't need your money. The only reason I've even bothered taking it is as a favor to your grandfather. Unfortunately for you, he's been dead for a decade and you have burned every bridge I've built for you. You're a failure and a disgrace to your family's name and I see that now. A coward and a failure and a damn shame that you're your father's son."

For a moment Joey's mouth hung open, eyes still practically bulging from his skull before he caught his own wind. "No, absolutely not, you can't just say that. You don't know shit!" He protested, but Gemina was simply having none of it. She'd seen enough; Will had shown her enough.

"I raised your grandfather in this business, I cradled your father in my arms, and I bounced you on my knee. I've walked every single man in your family to the throne they sat on and none of them -- even green -- were as fucking sloppy as you are now at your supposed prime." She smoothed her hands over her legs before standing up and giving a tiny wave to Will. "Come on, we're leaving. I'm not going to miss a party for some brat that couldn't even fight his way out of a wet paper bag."

Gemina turned and started for the door, but something caught her attention. It was fast -- too fast -- but the distinct sound of a safety clicking made her head snap around just in time to see a gun sloppily held and pointed directly at Will.

"He's not one of you, right?" Joey muttered, jaw clenching as his eyes darted rapidly between the two. "His hands are warm and his fucking shoulders bleeding, so he's one of your fucking little juice bags, right?"

A pause, just long enough for her to slowly turn and set her gaze firmly on Joey. "How did you get the gun past the door?" Gemina asked in an annoyed hush.

"Easy." Joey solidified his hold as he reached into his pocket. "Told 'em you said I could have it. I am my father's son, after all." After a moment he pulled out a cellphone and tossed it towards her, which she caught easily in her hands with only a brief break in her concentration to do so. "Go on. Call 'em. Clean up the mess or you'll be lickin' what's left of your pretty boy off the floor like the fucking bitch you are."

Rage began to burn in her chest, rising up from the center and slowly spreading through every vein in her body. There was something else there though, something familiar beyond the disrespect-- protectiveness? Will was hers to do with as she pleased, wasn't her? He was hers to toy with, to bend and bleed.

Protectiveness and possessiveness.

"Fucking make the call!" Joey shouted, but it only threw gasoline onto the fire. The cellphone in her hands suddenly shattered with a horrifying crunch as her skin started shifting, lively peaches and pinks draining away into a horrible ashy white that crawled with poisoned black veins.

"You are your fathers son.." Her voice dropped low. Lower than it had ever been, bordering on an inhuman growl that made Joey's eyes go wide with terror. "A spoiled, thoughtless brat raised in private schools and handed everything he has ever wanted." She took a strong step towards Will, placing herself between Joey and he -- and the gun.

"Hope that you have made peace with your God if you pull the trigger, boy. I do not take kindly to those who seek to break what is mine."

@worldofsenelfy

It was strange to feel someone's racing pulse under his fingers like this. Strangely familiar, but it had been such a long time ago. It might've been the venom-high, but Will didn't exactly mind it. In fact, the look in this man's eyes when he put him in his place was awfully.. soothing.

The hand to the throat was enough of a threat to keep the man in his spot. Will applied just the right amount of pressure; not choking, but not allowing the guy to breathe easy either. He did not look up when Mina joined them and patted his arm, although he would've liked nothing more but to see the glint in her eyes right now. But he couldn't. Mr. Tripane would not be very impressed by their interaction, so Will's sharp gaze remained on the man, face as straight as ever. He was unreadable. That was one of his strengths, after all.

Only when Mina gave the command did Will slowly release the creep from his grip. He could swear his fingerprints were in the guy's neck and he almost smirked at that, but instead, he exchanged a glance with the vampire and eased back. She did not need protection. She could snap a person in half without even trying. Will hadn't seen it, but he believed it. Any enemy of hers ought to be afraid.

And he could know. He'd been on that side of the field.

The corners of his lips finally tugged up at the conversation Gemina was having with this Joey Tripane. Knucklehead. Thinking he'd shamelessly get away with everything. No one got away with everything. Not unless you were good. But Will kept his mouth shut. He was very curious to see how Mina was going to solve this issue. And in case he needed to, he was more than willing to provide the bullet for that skull.

@merchantofwhispers

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

[justathoughtfulangel]

Words I Will Never Forget ~ Kai Parker One Shot

*not my gif

Pairing: vampire!Saltzman!Reader x Heretic!Kai

Character Name: Rosalie Saltzman

This IS a reader insert fic; I just don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of names. Use Rosalie/Rose as a placeholder for Y/N :)

Requested: No

Note: Alaric and Jo are not together for the purposes of this story.

Word Count: 4,158

Description: Kai left her four years ago, claiming he'd never loved her. Even now, she can't forget him. It doesn't matter if he didn't love her; she still loved him. Unfortunately, when a heart heals, it never heals evenly.

Warnings: not edited very carefully, ANGST (I broke my own heart when writing parts of this), minor gaslighting (in a "Really? You don't love me anymore?" kinda way <3), jealousy, mature language, SMUT (18+ ONLY), Dom!Kai, possessive!Kai, Daddy kink, fingering, praise kink, blood-sharing, and unprotected sex (be safe!)

~ Four Years Ago ~

Kai’s POV:

I saw the heartbreak dawn in her eyes. Her face remained expressionless, but her irises swam with tears threatening to spill over. One stubborn droplet made it out, leaving a trail on her cheek. As it did, I kept my expression apathetic like no part of this mattered to me – like she didn’t matter to me.

It was a miracle I was still standing. That one tear had seared into me, causing more pain than I’d ever known. Then, she spoke the words that broke me - words I will never forget.

“I don’t know why I let myself think this was real, even for one moment. You never loved me, did you?”

I can’t believe she’d believe me so easily. After all the times I’d told her how I felt, my past drowned out my words. My face was still even, and I was getting dangerously close to losing all emotion again. “No.” The lie came out without a care, and I seemed bored of this conversation.

Her eyes closed, and two more teardrops followed the lead of the first. A storm was brewing inside her, and it would either destroy her or bury me alive. I’d prefer the latter. She didn’t deserve this, but I had to do it. I did it for her. Maybe she’d understand one day.

She didn’t say another word to me. She just turned around and walked away, not sparing me a glance back. I was grateful she didn’t. She would’ve seen my composure crack, and she would’ve seen someone who was listening to every word.

“Well done, Kai.”

~ Present Day ~

Rosalie’s POV:

“Thank you, Professor Saltzman!” I raised my eyebrows as I watched yet another girl bounce out of the hall after my dad’s lecture. Smirking to myself, I approached his desk. Clasping my hands together, I fluttered my lashes obnoxiously. “Thank you, Professor Saltzman. I’d love to marry you and have your babies!” Dropping the act and my ditzy expression, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you get tired of that?”

He laughed, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t you get tired of impersonating it?” Returning his smile, I walked along with him. “Never, it’s the highlight of my week.” I wasn’t Alaric’s daughter by blood, but that meant nothing to us. I met him fifteen years ago at his first teaching job. I was in middle school, then. My parents passed in a car accident, and Mr. Saltzman had been the trusted adult I turned to. Not wanting to see me thrust into the foster system after seeing the pain children faced within it, he took me in, and we’ve been a family since.

When he became a vampire, my dad turned me too. He'd do anything to protect me, and I’d do anything to protect him. We were all we needed.

“I hope you know you’re not getting an A on that paper just because your dad is the Professor.” Shaking my head, I unlocked my car and tossed my things in the passenger seat. “No, you’re going to give me an A because it’ll be the best-researched submission you get.”

“I bet it will be. See you tomorrow?” Alaric got into his own car, giving me a quick wave goodbye. “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye, dad.” I didn’t live with him, but we had dinner together nearly every night. Tonight was an exception. Tonight, I was going on a date. It was my first date since… well, him.

Four years later, I couldn’t even think of his name without feeling the betrayal all over again. It took me four years to agree to go out with someone else. One thousand, four hundred, and sixty-one days to even bring myself to try. The funny thing was – the date wasn’t my idea. Caroline was in her matchmaking phase again, and I was the guinea pig.

Oh well. I had to take the plunge at some point.

~

An hour and a half later, I found myself staring at my reflection in a full-length mirror. Autumn was just around the corner, and I dressed warmly. A deep green sweater dress hugged my body, my legs covered by deep black tights. A nude, plaid patterned scarf hung around my neck, and my only other accessories were a black clutch and… the bracelet.

I slipped the bracelet off of my wrist, suppressing a deep sigh. This should have been a worthless piece of junk to me by now, but it wasn’t. It was one of the last remembrances of him that I allowed myself…

With one hand covering her eyes, Kai slipped the one-of-a-kind charm bracelet onto Rosalie’s wrist with the other. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he watched her reaction intently as her eyes fell on the Celtic Love Knot charm. “Unending love. For two vampires, it feels quite fitting, don’t you think?”

Taking the bracelet off gingerly, I held it to my chest and took a few deep breaths. He told me he had never loved me, that it was all a game for his own twisted ends. He could say what he wanted, but he’d never get to steal my memories of him. With great care, I tucked the bracelet into a protective casing and set it on my bedside table. My wrist felt bare without it, naked and uncomfortable.

Swallowing away the choked-up emotion in my throat, I smoothed out my dress and slipped on the block heels that added a few inches to my height without making my feet want to fall off by the end of the night. With perfect timing, my date knocked on the door. Caroline refused to send me a picture but claimed I’d adore him at first sight. We’ll see about that, Care.

Opening the door with a smile, I greeted him pleasantly. I don’t know about adoring him at first sight, but he was attractive, I guess? “Hi, you must be Brandon. I’m Rosalie.”

~

This was a surprisingly nice date. Brandon was – for all intents and purposes – perfect. He was charming, funny, and compassionate. He was a medical student at Whitmore along with Elena, so he was plenty intelligent, too. I tried my best to engage in conversation with him wholeheartedly, and I was faking it ‘til I made it. He was truly a catch.

He just wasn’t a catch for me. I was too far gone to care about anyone else the way I did Kai, no matter how he felt about me.

Kai’s POV:

Of all the restaurants I could have picked tonight, she had to be on a date at this very one. Rosalie was laughing and smiling and seemed to be having a grand evening. What was I doing? Sitting alone in a corner and praying her eyes didn’t land on me.

I missed her. I missed her with every fiber of my being for every second I’d been away. Seeing her now, so close yet somehow miles away, was unbearable. What was most unbearable was none of those smiles were as bright as the ones I had memorized. None of those laughs made her eyes crinkle. I didn’t know what else had happened in the last four years, but I sure hoped I wasn’t the one who’d stolen her joy from her.

Who was I kidding? Of course, I was.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her broken heart out in front of me. I’d destructed it, and I did not deserve to have it again.

Fortunately, I was never one to go after what I deserved. I went after what I wanted. What I wanted was Rosalie, and I’d get her back soon enough. There was something I had to do first.

~

Knocking on the front door of Alaric Saltzman’s door, I swallowed my fear and pride both. He opened the door, and I was surprised it wasn’t slammed in my face. “I thought I told you to never show your face around here again, Kai.”

“You did, unless I did as you asked. It’s been four years, and I haven’t killed another innocent soul. I promise you.” Alaric stepped out, glaring at me. “Why should I believe you?”

“What motivation do I have to lie? You told me to break your daughter’s heart and to only return once I could prove I’m worthy of her. What else do you want me to do?”

Rosalie’s POV:

Brandon, like the perfect gentleman he was, offered to walk me back home. He truly was the perfect guy, just not for me. When we reached my apartment complex, there was an awkward moment of silence. Normally, after a good date, it doesn’t end here. Sighing softly, I looked up at him. The moon was shining down, creating the perfect romantic moment for the wrong people.

“Listen, Brandon. You’re a wonderful person, and any girl would be very lucky to have you. I just… this will probably freak you out, but you are the first person I’ve been on a date with in four years. I believe we only get one real love, and I already found and lost mine. I can’t be what you deserve.”

Brandon took a step back, tilting his head and looking at me inquisitively. “Tell you what. You let me kiss you goodnight, and if there’s nothing there, there’s nothing there. If there’s even a slight spark, we could go out again sometime?” Laughing softly, I shrugged playfully. “Oh, why not?”

I was broken-hearted anyway. If someone had a way better way to heal it, they should come and tell me. Brandon cupped my face with one hand and pressed a kiss to my lips, testing the waters. Absolutely nothing came of it. It was pleasant, I suppose, but nothing like what a first kiss is meant to be.

“Nothing, huh?” Smiling apologetically, I nodded in agreement. “Friends?” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart, faking a fall backward. “See you around, Rosalie. I hope you find what you’re looking for again.” I watched him walk off into the night, waving goodbye until he disappeared from sight.

The second my feet passed the threshold to my apartment, my knees buckled below me. My hands covered my mouth, muffling the sobs no one would hear. I knew tonight would be painful, but not this painful. I missed him so badly. He was like this incessant disease. I’d think I was cured, but it always came back to continue to destroy me.

Why did I have to love him? Why couldn’t loving someone be a choice? What was it that made me still love him, even after he’d taken a sledgehammer to my heart? How could I still love him when I lost the ability to love anyone else?

Kai’s POV:

I’d seen every moment of that. The cute banter and the kiss. I had no right to burn with jealousy, but there was no rationale for emotion. I wanted to chase after Blake or whatever the fuck his name was and tear his head clean off. Four years I’d spent fighting off violent urges, and all it took was one innocent, meaningless kiss to set me off. I craved to chase after him, but I didn’t. There was something much more important I had to attend to.

The elevator up to Rosalie’s floor couldn’t have been slower. The sound hit my ears before I even stepped away from the metal box.

She was crying.

I didn’t expect the sound to disarm me. I was nearly crippled where I stood. Each stifled sound was finding broken pieces of my heart and shattering them further and further.

You did this. Are you happy now?

No. I may have caused this, but now, I’d do anything to make sure she never shed a tear again.

With newfound determination, I stood tall in front of her door. Laying knuckle to wood thrice, I took a deep breath. “J-just a minute.” Her shaky voice sang out from behind the door, and I heard something clinking softly. Was it… jewelry? Blinking the thoughts away, I straightened up further, aching to see Rosalie again. I’d seen her earlier tonight, but that hadn’t been enough. From now on, it would never be something I’d settle for again.

The door swung open, and even her fake smile fell at the sight of me. Before she could shut the door, I grabbed the frame, stepping in and looking at her intently. Even with her hurting eyes and wet lashes, she was the most precious woman I’d looked at. She was mine.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Get the fuck out of my apartment. Right now.” She moved to shove me out the door, and I didn’t fail to notice how she faltered once her hands touched me again. “No. You’re going to listen to me.”

“I listened to everything you had to say already, Malachai. I don’t have to listen to anything else.” Realizing she was going to get nowhere with shoving me out, Rose gave up. If she was truly angry, her teeth would be gritting together. Right now, all I heard was the erratic beating of her heart and the tiniest of whimpers. My heart threatened to crack, and no matter how hard she fought, I just wanted to hold her again.

Not yet. She had to listen first. She had to know the truth.

“If you listened to me last time, you’ll listen to me again. Perhaps I wasn’t done speaking.” I met her defiant look with a stern expression that could bring her to her knees. She must have remembered it, too, because every protest about to bubble up within her was silenced. Walking towards her, not saying another word, I watched her step backward, trying to escape me.

She couldn’t escape me. She wouldn’t escape me ever again. Her back hit the wall, then, and Rosalie had nowhere else to run.

“I lied. I lied, and you believed me so easily. Even after all the times I told you how much I love you. I will never know how you managed to dredge up the broken Kai Parker and turned him into the Malachai that was always meant to love you. How many times did you hear me say that I would not be alive without you?”

Rosalie’s POV:

Trapped between the wall and Kai’s imploring gaze, I swallowed down a sob. I was dreaming, right? This had to be a dream. That was it. Maybe I passed out crying in my bed with Kai on my mind. Yep. That’s it. I’m dreaming.

But dreams didn’t feel like this. I wouldn’t pretend like I hadn’t dreamt of Kai and what we had, yet never had I heard such words of conviction.

“I-I don’t know what to believe, Malachai.” I wanted to touch his face, to feel it and know he was standing in front of me. I didn’t dare move. Half convinced this was a dream and the other half convinced Kai was a mirage, I stood still. The only allowance I gave myself was staring into the deep blue eyes I’d never forgotten.

“So, you can believe me when I lie to you but not when I’m telling you the truth?” He was nearly glaring at me. His voice was almost angry like he was frustrated with me. “I love you, Rosalie Saltzman. I love you now, I loved you then, and I will love you even when you don’t want me to.”

His voice trembled, then, and he moved to press a searing kiss to my lips. “Stop.” He froze an inch away from my lips. I could feel his breath on my cheek as I turned my head away from him. “That’s well and good for you, Malachai. But I don’t love you anymore. I’m going to ask you to leave one more time before I throw you out.” Maneuvering myself out of his grip, I headed to the kitchen.

“Really? You don’t love me anymore? Is that why you had your first date tonight, four years after I lef- after our breakup? Is that why you’re still wearing your bracelet?” The bracelet. I’d put it back on before opening the door. I couldn’t bear to be without it any longer. Ignoring him, I ripped open a blood bag and drank ravenously. Every inch of me was burning. I wanted these feelings gone. All of them. I needed them gone.

Kai snatched the blood bag from my hand and grasped my face with the other. It didn’t hurt me in the slightest, but he had that expression in his eyes again – the one that turned me into a toy in his palm. “I love you enough to know when you are lying to me.”

Grabbing his wrist, I slapped his hand from my face. “What do you want from me, Malachai? Was it not enough to break me into a million pieces before you left? Was it not enough that I couldn’t stop loving you, no matter how much I wanted to? Why the fuck can’t you leave me alone?! Why did you have to make me love you this much?!”

He was done listening to me, then. His arms wrapped around me, crushing my body against his. His lips found mine again, complete after years. Every emotion and sensation – anger, desperation, sadness, desire, love – formed a potion and poured over us both. It ran its course, and there was no stopping it now. Kai hoisted me upwards, and my legs wrapped around his waist as if it were still second nature.

“You are mine. You have been mine and you will always be mine.” This time, the conviction in his voice didn’t frighten me one bit. I was his and he was mine. I believed him. I trusted him. I would never doubt his love for me again.

Malachai carried me over to our bed. He hovered over me, not daring to break our kiss for even a fraction of a second. His hands pinned mine above my head. “Tell me you love me. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear it.”

I did know. I knew because I dreamed of hearing it again more than I would admit. “I love you…” Sometimes, the three words were more powerful alone, without any embellishments. Here, they were in their purest form – unadulterated and unaltered.

“I love you, too.” Our lips met again, and when the kiss ended, he didn’t move away. His lips trailed lines of fire along my neck, searing me and reminding me what it meant to be his once more. He moved not like he hadn’t been with me in years; he moved like he already knew every inch of me and was simply claiming what was his.

With deliberate slowness, he removed my dress and other articles of clothing, taking the time to fold them and place them on my bedside table, highlighting that anything happening in this room tonight would happen at his command.

Kai removed his jacket and shirt then, revealing his skin to me. I almost begged to touch him. While I lay in near nudity, he was only half exposed, once again reinforcing his position.

Was he aware of my mind at this moment? Though I lay beneath him, my body in his hands, did he know how free I felt? Every touch, every teasing flick of his finger, every nibble upon my ear told me how much he loved me, and that was gift enough.

His words changed, then. No longer were they words of sweet declarations of love. They were words dripping with lust and unfulfilled desire, and I knew he had me, then. He had all of me, and he knew it, too.

“Do you remember who I am to you, baby girl?” As the words hung heavy in the air, Kai’s teeth clamped onto the waistband of my panties. His eyes never left mine, and the hunger shining in his irises set me aflame. “Yes…”

“Yes, what?” His fingers hovered over my body, desperate to touch me but waiting until he had me exactly where he wanted me. “Yes, Daddy.” His growl of approval echoed out into the room, and Daddy’s fingers finally sank into me. My hips bucked up off the bed, immediately. For so long, I’d only pleasured myself. Here he was, playing with my body like he owned it and knew exactly what to do.

His fingers pumped in and out of me in a steady rhythm, and his lips never left my torrid skin. They found heaven everywhere on me – my neck, my breasts, my stomach – all while his fingers rocked into me. “Good girl. Still so responsive for Daddy. Daddy’s so proud of you, princess.”

Both of his hands were intent on driving me to climax, and soon, his finger flicked against the center of my ecstasy. He teased my clit until it was sensitive and throbbing, ready to bring me over the edge at any second. “Do you want to cum for Daddy, baby girl?”

I was seeing stars already. My nails dug into his back, leaving ravenous marks of pleasure across him. “Yes, Daddy! Please let me cum! I need it, Daddy, please!”

Kai’s POV:

I would have normally chuckled at the state I’d gotten her in, but not tonight. Tonight, I understood more than ever that this was her love and unfounded trust in me. I would never break it again. “Cum for Daddy, princess. Cum for Daddy right now!” As I commanded her release, my fingers curled against her g-spot, massaging her orgasm out of her.

“There you go, such a good fucking girl. You can cum for Daddy as many times as you want tonight, baby. You have my permission. Just let go and let Daddy love you.” Waiting until her vision cleared up and her heart calmed a little, I sucked her juices from my fingers. She tasted just as exquisite as I remembered.

I didn’t have any more patience left in me. Scooping her up in my arms once more, I moved so that I lay just behind her. Lifting her leg to position my aching cock between her soaking pussy lips, I nibbled at her ear. “Do you want Daddy inside you, baby?”

She nodded rapidly, and I excused it for now. Tonight wasn’t about any strict rules; tonight was about finally loving her again. With tender patience, I slid inside her. My princess hadn’t slept with anyone else in these past few years, and neither had I. She was my little slice of heaven, and I was so grateful to have found it again.

“Ohhh, fucking hell. Daddy missed his princess so much.” It wasn’t just the sex I missed. Of course not. I missed everything she is and everything she will be. I missed her, every part of her. “I-I missed you, too, Daddy! I love you so much!” Gripping her face and turning it towards me, I crashed my lips to hers desperately. Our tongues danced together. No amount of closeness was close enough.

I made love to her for hours and hours, not wanting to see the sheer rapture in her eyes come to a close. As dawn began to break and we were wrapped up in each other, our mouths found each other’s necks. Sinking my teeth into her flesh, I drank from her, filling myself up with the essence of her from the inside out. She, too, craved me as much as I craved her. We wouldn’t dare let go again.

~~~

I woke around noon. Rosalie was still fast asleep, and even in sleep, she clung to me desperately, as if afraid I’d disappear. I wouldn’t disappear. I wouldn’t leave her ever again. She had me. She had everything I was and everything I would ever be. Pressing a tender kiss to her head and disengaging from her, I slipped into her kitchen. I still understood how she organized her things and found items with ease.

I had just finished setting up a breakfast tray when I heard her scream my name from the room. Dropping everything, I ran using my supernatural speed, worried beyond belief. “What happened? I’m here, Rosalie. I’m here. What’s wrong?” Whimpering softly, she crawled into my lap. I worried at the sound, taking the blanket and wrapping it around us both. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I thought you weren’t really here…” Oh. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I swallowed back the guilt. Now was not the time. “I’m here, princess. I’m here, and I will never leave you again.”

Moments of heavy silence passed, and Rosalie continued to hug me as if I’d disappear. Then, she broke the silence, speaking words I will never forget.

“I love you, Malachai.”

~~~

That concludes yet another one of my Kai Parker One Shots! I actually flipped a coin to see if this piece would get a happy or sad ending. Thank GOD it landed on a happy ending because I think a sad ending would have destroyed me for a week. (The sad ending was that their reunion was truly a dream...)

Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way. I always welcome them :) If you'd like to be tagged in future Kai Parker works, feel free to message me/leave a comment here.

If you liked this story, feel free to check out my other stories from my Malachai Parker Masterlist (pinned to the top of my profile).

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel <3

Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @prettybitchfatwitch

[captains-simp]

Yelena Belova ~ Lost Time

Yelena Belova X fem!Reader Smut

Word Count: 1,841

Includes: teasing, kinda public sex, strap on, choking and oral

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Lena!" You grinned like a child on Christmas as your girlfriend came bounding towards you.

She wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, holding onto you like a lifeline as she kissed your forehead. The pair of you stayed in that comfortable silence for a few minutes, ignoring the crowds of people around you.

"I missed you." You muttered into her chest before finally pulling yourself away, still keeping your hands on her back as she held your waist. She smiled down at you adoringly and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

"I missed you too. Come on, let's get out of here." She said as she picked up her forgotten bags off the floor. You held your hands out to take one but she just smiled at you more and beckoned you forward.

"Let me take one." You protested as you went to swipe a bag off her but the spy only kept her firm grip and chuckled at your numerous attempts.

Yelena had been on a mission in Russia for a couple of months and in that time you never got a chance to talk. You missed everything about her and knew you wouldn't be leaving her side for a while.

You had plans to make up for lost time, but you didn't realise Yelena was a lot more impatient that you.

She had had to get a public plane to Russia as part of her mission rather than a S.H.I.L.D or Stark jet. She didn't need to get one back but when the night she had been booking her flight she had accidentally got a return flight. It was entirely your fault for distracting her with neck kisses but you didn't regret it one bit. It had gotten you what you wanted that night.

You unhelpfully held Yelena's hand as you rushed through the airport, eager to welcome her home properly. The blonde spy let you guide the way as she carried her bags with ease.

You practically sprinted towards your car when it came into view but were taken by completely surprise when Yelena got into the drivers seat after hauling her bags into the back.

"Shouldn't I be driving?" You asked, baffled that she had the energy after such a long flight.

"C'mon!" Yelena urged as she fastened her seat belt and impatiently tapped the steering wheel as you got it, still giving her a questioning look.

The moment Yelena had pulled the car out of the parking space her hand dropped to your thigh. Her thumb stroked the exposed skin slowly and in a gentle manner that contrast to her fingers slightly digging in.

You were wearing one of your skirts that Yelena liked and that always rode up when you sat down. It left a good portion of your thigh exposed and you knew Yelena would take full advantage of that.

You wouldn't put it past her to try something while she was driving, it wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

Just as your thought, it didn't take long for Yelena's hand to wander further up your thigh as you rambled about the few things that had happened while she was gone. You shivered slightly from her touch and tried to ignore the small damp patch in your panties.

Unfortunately, this was something that was very hard to ignore when your girlfriend's fingers were half an inch away from the material. She hummed softly as you spoke, as though she had no idea what she was doing.

There was even a point when she 'wasn't paying attention' to the road and breaked suddenly at a red light. Her grip on your thigh tightened almost unbearably and you couldn't help the moan that slipped from your lips. Yelena smirked at that but didn't say anything.

A piercing silence fell across the car when you stopped talking after that. You were focusing all your attention and will power on not making a sound, especially when Yelena's thumb finally stroked the now embarrassingly big wet patch on your panties that almost made you whimper.

You failed to realise Yelena was pulling into an almost-abandoned car park while you were gripping the seat beneath you. That was until she finally stopped the car and got out of her seat, tearing her hand away from you, and climbed into the back as she spoke a lustfilled - "Fuck, come here."

You fumbled with your seat belt, your head slightly cloudy, then scrambled into the back to meet her.

You almost laughed at what you were doing, the pair of you were like two horny highschoolers.

While you were struggling to get back to her, Yelena was busy undoing her trousers and pulling out the contained toy. You almost stumbled further as you saw the familiar silicone standing proudly.

Eagerly, you straddling Yelena's lap the first moment you could as stared down at the strap as your girlfriend's hands fell to you hips.

The strap grazed your pussy lips as though inviting you forward. You needed no encouragement, already so caught up in the lust that was ruling every inch of your body.

You sunk yourself down onto the silicone toy and moaned as you slowly worked it inside you, needing to adjust after months of not having something so big in such a sensitive area.

It was a relief to feel the strap inside you. The feeling was so familiar and you had missed it so much.

Yelena's right hand left your hip to caress the skin under your shirt, taking her time in familiarising herself with your smooth stomach. Her hand soon ventured higher, slipping under the bra to cup your right breast and give it a light squeeze.

You leaned forward into her grip and unintentionally sunk yourself a few inches lower than your were prepared to take. You gripped Yelena's shoulders as you tried to adjust to the amount in your pussy until you craved more.

You had forgotten how deep that position allowed the strap to go. You were filled up entirely by the girthy length and it was heavenly.

The blonde started to pinch your nipple slowly between her fingers while her palm stayed on your breast, before switching to provide equal attention. Her other hand fell to your waist where she guided your movements to allow you to fuck yourself on her strap.

"Lena!" You moaned breathlessly as you started to bounce on the strap. Everytime it was buried back inside your channel you moaned louder than before, completely blissed out from how deep it hit everytime.

You clenched around it firmly as you threw your head back and shut your eyes to let the pleasure overtake you, far from caring about any possible onlookers.

"Feels so good." You whimpered as your pace increased, desperately trying to find your high.

"Yeah, baby?" Yelena smirked. Her hand left your breast and shot up to grip your neck and squeezing down in the fragile part.

You choked on a moan as your rhythm faltered slightly from being caught off guard, but you soon found your pleasure again that was enhanced but Yelena's grip.

"I'm gonna cum." You communicated through moans. Your movements on your girlfriend's strap turned into grinding, trying to ride her as best you could when your heads were in the clouds.

"Let me help with that." Yelena said before holding your waist in an iron grip with both hands and flipped you onto the seats.

The blonde ground her feet into the car floor to give her more leverage before pounding the strap back into your soaking pussy. This earned her a whorish moan from you that was cut off when her hand returned to your neck. You wrapped your legs around her to allow Yelena to sink the strap further into you everytine her hips snapped forward.

Her thrusts were rough and fast, occasionally spilling a soft groan from the spy's lips as she fucked you into your high.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You all but screamed, clenching down on the toy like a clamp. Yelena fucked you through your orgasm until your legs went limp and dropped back down beside her.

"I missed this." Yelena smiled between butterfly kisses along your lips and jaw.

She slowly guided your legs onto the car seats and it took you a moment to realise that the blonde was getting you to lie down.

"And after seeing you come undone so nicely I really need to cum. Remind me what that tongue can do."

Yelena took the strap off of her hips and presented her glistening pussy to you. You bite your lip at the sight and instantly held the back of her thighs when she straddled you.

In moments, her dripping pussy was above your watering mouth, barely an inch away. The blonde lowered herself onto your eager mouth as you relished in the familiar scent that overwhelmed you.

You licked a long strip of Yelena's folds before sucking her clit between your lips and moaning at the taste of her. Your tongue dipped slightly between her wet folds before you retracted to pick up the surrounding arousal.

Yelena was gripping your hair and gasping out everytime your tongue hit one of the never ending nerves you had come to memorise better than your own.

Her muscular thighs were practically locking your head in place and allowing her to grind on your tongue as much as she wanted.

"Perfect, malyshka." She cooed when your tongue slipped further inside to explore. You hummed against her and seemingly spiked her pleasure by doing so.

"Keep fucking me with your tongue." She instructed. You complied, pushing your tongue in and out of her pussy until it was becoming difficult.

As Yelena approached her high her walls starter to clench around your tongue and consequently force it out. You fucked her with earnest and occasionally curled your tongue inside her while she all but suffocated you.

With a moan of your name, your girlfriend came around your tongue and desperately grinded against you to draw out every last bit of her orgasm.

Yelena fell back against the opposite side of the back seat and gave you a breathless smile. Her face was slightly flushed and you had no doubt yours was too.

You took a minute to admire her as she got her breathing back to normal, the playful smile never leaving her face.

"Plenty more where that came from." She finally spoke with her childish grin.

You rolled your eyes and lightly kicked her side.

"Later, we have to get home. You have two months of TV to catch up on." You reminded her, already invisioning the rest of the day and night.

"I can multi task." Yelena argued.

"Really? I don't recall." You lied, knowing exactly what it would get you.

'Then I'll give you a reminder." The blonde smirked as she leaned forward to kiss you again.

[house-of-kolchek]

Simplicity is For Losers

Jason Kolchek x Reader

Hello! Here is the (unedited) fic I wrote at 1:30 am :’) You’ll have to forgive me, as I don’t follow the game line for line and shot for shot, I was admittedly too lazy to keep a script next to me...

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Word Count: Approx. 3k

MASTERLIST

=============================================================

Just a few hours ago, life had been so simple.

Well it wasn't really simple, between the stifling heat of Iraq, being one of two females surrounded by a horde of military men, and the unfortunate situation in which a certain Southern marine had caught your attention, you were practically at your wits end. But alas, you'd still take it over this shit-hole you'd ended up in.

You itched at the never ending layer of dust sticking to your skin, leaning hard on your left leg and swallowing the growing lump in your throat. This was no time for crying, not when there were several lives - including your own - on the line.

It was supposed to be a simple mission - drop in and bust the chemical weapons silo with time to spare for dinner. You were there simply for tech support, devices only you and Eric knew the name and function of spilling from your bag, waiting to track those damned WMD's. The cost of those lost devices were the farthest thing from your mind now.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, and yet here you were, hundreds of feet below the surface, covered in dust, cuts and bruises, with your lives being toyed with by nightmare-inducing monsters.

Eric continued spouting nonsense about said monster-corpse laying on the table, his UV light in one hand as his gaze flickered between the two. You rolled your eyes, patience wearing thin at the incoherent mumbling, surveying the rest of the room.

Your temporary camp was barely lit, with so many crevices and openings you couldn't count them with two hands. The only comfort was provided by the cameras set up by Jason and Nick, there to give warning of any incoming threats.

Speaking of the devil, you jumped slightly at movement in the corner of your eye. Your shoulders relaxed again as a double-take confirmed it was merely Jason moving to the main doorway, likely heading out to check on Nick. With no second thought, you jumped off the desk and made your way away from Eric's rambling, towards the marine in the baseball cap.

"Jason! Wait for me!" At the sound of his name, he hesitated, turning to meet your approaching frame. As he waited for you to catch up, you noticed the twitching of his fingers, and the shifting of his weight. He was trying to keep his cool, and you commended him for that. You were barely holding yourself together as is.

"What's up?" He asked, eyes searching your body. Out of habit, you assumed, checking for any injuries.

"I just wanted to come with you, you're heading out to see Nick?" Jason's gaze softened and his posture relaxed just the slightest.

"It's safer for you to stay in here with the Colonel.." he trailed off. He was right, really, but that didn't matter.

"Yeah, well, it's even safer for the Colonel if I come with you. Trust me," you said, unable to keep the annoyance out of your tone. "I swear, if I have to keep listening to him mutter I'm going to throw an ancient vase at his head."

Jason let out a breathy chuckle, nodding his head for you to follow him as he started moving again. "Alright, I getcha. Just make sure you stay close, 'kay?" You gave him a bright smile in response, stepping up beside him. You watched his lips tug upwards in his classic smirk, causing a not-so-small swarm of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

Alright, you'd admit. You may have developed the tiniest (read: biggest) crush on the Lieutenant. Over the past few weeks since joining his team as a technology specialist, you'd hung around him the most. He was so kind, taking time out of his day to help provide you with some basic training - all of which had proved useful in this situation you'd gotten yourselves in. On top of that, he was just a blast to be around, easy to shoot the shit with. His loyalty to his team was something you hadn't seen much of. There was just something special about the man. And between the many times he'd jumped in to defend you from the other horny marines, and the unnecessary excuses he made just to place a hand on your back, or brush it across your hand, you couldn't help but wonder if he thought of you the same way.

"(Name)? You coming?" He called, a few paces ahead of you.

Shit, get out of your head!

~~

You were gathered around the radio with Nick, Jason and Eric, trying your best to ignore the screeching far below the cliff. All you could picture was their claws ripping across bodies, yanking Merwin through a condensed tunnel, sending sickening cracks through the air.

One, two deep breaths and you were back in the moment.

"Think you can fix it?" It took a moment to realize Jason's question was directed at you.

"Well, I can try. My tech specialty is more in computer programs than 60 year old radios." You grimaced, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants.

"Ah, you're a quick study, you got this." Jason rested a hand on your shoulder. His encouragement sparked a determination in you, and you nodded, getting to work on the piece of hardware.

...

"Ha! Bingo!" You cheered as the radio clicked on, low static emitting from the speaker. Jason brought his hand back to your shoulder, giving it a little shake.

"Told ya."

The celebration was short lived however, as the static changed from a low hum to a screaming buzz. You frantically adjusted knobs on the radio, aware of the growing screeches from below the cliff.

"Shit, shut that thing up!" Jason called, eying the cliff with his rifle raised. You barely heard him telling Eric to get back to the camp as you tried with all your might to quiet the radio. After a few seconds Nick grabbed your shoulders, gently pulling you away.

"I got this," he said. "You go with Eric to safety." You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to the punch. "Please, the Lieutenant will tear me a new one if you don't stay safe." That effectively shut you up, and you nodded, making eye contact with Jason before running past Eric towards the doors.

Just as you approached the doors, a sharp pain to your cheekbone knocked you off your feet. You heard Eric call your name before something tugged you up by your hair. You were barely able to process his gun pointed to something above you when cold metal pressed against your temple.

There's a gun to your head

Your heart dropped into your stomach as the man above you shouted something in Arabic. Eric dropped his gun, raising both hands in surrender, without breaking eye contact with the man. You didn't dare move, fighting the tears in your eyes and the primal fear that gripped your lungs. Your brain was moving at a mile a minute before a few gunshots rang out and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Surprisingly, you weren't dead, rocks showered down from above and the man released your hair, stumbling back just enough for Eric to yank you out of his reach. The Colonel yanked you around like a ragdoll, back down the stairs and behind a rock. Everything was blank and slow - you had just been mere threads away from death - until something held your face and you were met with Jason's desperate gaze.

"(Name)! Fucking hell, you're okay," he sighed out, his hand moving from your face down to squeeze your arm before he turned his attention back to the Iraqi. You heard a few more gunshots ring out before the soldier stumbled back through the doors. The monsters screams continued to grow to a deafening roar and Jason yelled out.

"Push back to the temple!" With that, the three of you rushed back up the stairs, meeting Nick behind the doors. You pushed the door with all the strength you could muster, when a familiar voice rang out.

"Wait!"

Rachel busted through the gap, covered head to toe in what had to be blood. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"Holy shit Rachel, Thank god," You breathed out to her. She turned to reply to you, a rare smile on her face when Nick cut in.

"You're alive?" He asked, breathless.

"Have any doubt marine?" She replied, only to be nearly knocked over in a hug. You smiled a bit before turning back to the doors. They were cute together. You helped Jason close and barricade the doors, him turning to look at you.

"You okay?" He asked, fingers brushing across the sore spot on your cheek - what you could only assume was a forming bruise. You nodded, taking his wrist in your hand and leaning into his touch a little. His eyes hardened, his face tensing up with anger. "I swear I'm gonna kill that fucker."

The moment was rudely interrupted when Eric hustled over, punching Nick square in the face.

"What the fuck?" You muttered. You reached out to grab the back of Nicks body armour as he lunged forward to retaliate, Rachel doing the same with Eric.

"You're sleeping with him?" Eric pointed a finger at Rachel.

"Genuinely, what the fuck?" You stepped between everyone, dodging another punch from the men. "Hey! Fucking careful! Now is not the time to be punching your allies so suck it up!" You snapped. All parties fell silent. Granted, this was the first time you'd raised your voice at any of them. And granted, it was out of line considering every single one of them outranked you. But hell, your patience had worn thin, and this was just the last straw.

After a moment of silence, and some pointed glares, Jason stepped forward.

"Let's get moving on." He turned to Rachel. "You armed?" Twirling a pistol around his finger, he offered it to the agent. It was a neat little trick, you had to admit. Rachel accepted the gun in silence and led the way into the temple.

~~ I'm skipping the attack in the temple, cause I have no ideas for it ~~

The clicking of a gun stopped you in your tracks, and you watched as Nick pointed his own rifle toward the sound. There stood the man who'd held you hostage. Jason pulled you back and behind him in the darkness, his hand remaining tensed on your arm, and a low grumble emitting from his throat.

After a moment, the other Iraqi soldier - the one you'd captured for a short moment, he'd said his name was Salim - appeared behind Nick, seeming to translate for the other soldier. Then, Rachel appeared with her gun pointed. Then Eric.

"Stay here," Jason muttered to you before approaching the unfamiliar man from behind. "Make a move. I fucking dare you." His voice was filled with venom. After a few moments of sharp conversation, Salim raised his arms.

"I feel like our uniforms are getting in the way of what could be a beautiful relationship," he countered. "We should get out of here. The vampires will be coming"

"Colonel, what's your call?" Nick asked, gun still raised. Eric hesitated for a moment, considering. He let out a deep sigh.

"We could use their help." He turned to look back at you before jerking his head to the door. "I'll cover the corridor, help get the door open."

"Don't you fucking dare." Jason called out, to whom specifically you weren't sure. You, Nick and Salim had all started toward the door.

"Fuck Jason," Nick sighed. "The enemy of our enemy is our friend!" With that, he and Salim started pushing on the door. You stopped beside Jason.

"They're right, we really need the help right now. I want us to make it out of here," you admitted, searching his eyes for a moment before joining the group at the door. You heard a deep sigh behind you before a warmth was at your back.

"We're gonna get out of here," Jason muttered in your ear as he pushed with you against the door. "'Cause I wanna take you on a date." He mumbled the last part, and your heart jumped into your throat. Holy shit, did he actually say that? The door opened, and you practically stumbled into the next room. Turning around, you couldn't help the blush on your cheeks as you reached out to grab his hand. Smiling up at the marine, you met his suddenly bashful gaze.

"You promise?" And he nodded.

It was then that you took in the sight of the next room, and your stomach clenched. The moment before forgotten, you analyzed the skeletons laying across the floor in piles. All members of your group made the same noises of disgust, spreading out a little to investigate. You tensed as a familiar clicking sound rang out.

Likely a dozen monsters emerged from various openings in the room, clicking and screeching back and forth. Predators sizing up their prey. Still holding Jason's hand, you felt him squeeze your own and mutter a “Stay close.” before dropping it and aiming his rifle. You gulped.

With a cry, the monsters jumped, and the gunshots started ringing out. Your head whipped back and forth, and you reached for your own sidearm when a force knocked you to the ground. A yell came from Jason and your heart dropped.

One of the creatures was dragging the marine down to a tunnel as he struggled in its grip. Desperation crawled up into your throat.

No no no.

You couldn't let it take him.

You cried out his name, lunging forward and following the monster. You were vaguely aware of Nick a few paces behind you, when a tall, skinny figure stepped into your path.

The thing was horrifying. It looked like the thing Joey had turned into, but much, much older. It was wearing ancient armour, and it was so thin it looked as though it's body had been fully dehydrated. You couldn't help but stumble back into Nick.

"I'll distract it. Go," he whispered in your ear before pushing you to the side, aiming his rifle and firing at the humanoid creature. As it charged toward Nick, you gave him one last desperate nod before slipping behind it and following the tunnel.

Hearing the sounds of struggle, you rounded a corner and almost collapsed at the sight of the bat-like creature hovering over Jason. Something steeled in your stomach and you yanked your knife from its sheath, diving forward and stabbing the thing in the back. With a screech it reared off the man, whirling around to face you.

You stepped back a couple paces, giving Jason enough time to scrabble out from under the monster. It dove at you, and you leapt to the side, desperate to get out of its way. Jason's face was lit up in shock as you met his gaze, pushing yourself to get up. His shock changed to horror as a large clawed hand wrapped around your calf, pulling you back.

You let out a cry and turned onto your back, scratching and pushing at the ground in a hopeless attempt to pull yourself out of its grasp. Jason yelled your name before his arm went around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

And so a game of tug-of-war ensued, Jason pulling you back into him with all his might. The monster growled, and white pain shot through your leg as it's claws dug into your calf. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut and head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Fuck! I got you, I got you," Jason chanted, frantic as he reached to pull your sidearm from the holster on your leg. You barely registered the gunshots until the monster released your leg, screeching and falling backwards.

Like any living thing, it can be killed. A stake through the heart.

Salim’s words rang through your head.

With one final yell you leapt forward, ignoring Jason's screams of your name, you drove your knife into the monsters chest, as hard and deep as you could, repeating the action over and over and over...

Until it finally stilled.

You fell backwards, only to be pulled back into Jason's arms in a tight hold. You were both gasping for breath, Jason scrabbling the pair of you back and as far away from the dead creature as possible. You were silent for a few moments.

"Teach you to mess with a fucking tech specialist," you gasped out, leaning your head back into Jason's shoulder again. He let out a short laugh, still coming down from the shock of the event.

"That was... pretty badass," he replied. You turned yourself around in his lap, ignoring the pain in your leg in favour of facing the marine. He was still panting, eyes scanning your face.

"Thank fucking god you're okay," he breathed out, pulling you into a hug. His hand rested on the back of your head, holding you close as you buried your face into his neck, sweat be damned. You could feel his arms trembling as he held you tight. Your own hands trembled as you dug your fingers into his back. After a moment you pulled back slightly, enough so you were face to face.

He searched your face, eyes flickering from from your own, to your bruised cheek, and finally down to rest at your lips. You did the same. It was almost involuntary, how you both leaned forward, enough so his breath fanned across your lips. Your face was warm and your chest was warm and-

You blinked when your forehead bounced off his cap. Letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding, you leaned back a bit. A short giggle passed your lips, and Jason's twitched upwards into a smile. With a smile of your own, you pulled off his cap, pulling him forward to meet your lips with his.

Jason's hand slid up your arms to the back of your neck. His other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you as close as your bodies, and body armour would allow. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your free hand sliding up into his - surprisingly long and soft - hair.

He let out a soft hum, moving his lips against yours and deepening the kiss as your legs tightened around his waist. The rest of the world, the dark cave, the grimy dust, the dead monster, all washed away and it was just you, and Jason, and his lips on yours and his hands threading through your hair.

You both broke away from the kiss, leaning back enough to take in each others faces. You took in his hair, the brown locks that fell forward over his forehead and made his eyes glimmer just that bit more. You took in the smile that grew on his face, a genuine, joyful smile as he looked down in mild embarrassment. He was beautiful.

And then the world came crashing back.

The pain in your leg returned full force and you grimaced, forehead meeting his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Jason spoke in a soft voice. "Lemme get that wrapped up." You sat back up to look at him. He gave you another little smile. "We're gonna get out of here."

"So you can take me on a date," you clarified. He chuckled and pulled you in to meet your lips again.

"So I can take you on many dates."

[comfortwriting]

I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.  

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[btsmosphere]

Lost in a Book | JHS

~summary: you and Jung Hoseok don’t exactly see eye to eye. but when you (literally) fall headfirst into a whole other world, that becomes the least of your worries ~pairing: hoseok x reader ~word count: 8.5k ~enemies to lovers, college au, fantasy au ~rating: g ~warnings: naughty freudian slip, sexual tension, arguing, fire

~a/n: this is my gift for the wonderful @moccahobi‘s birthday! I am so lucky to be friends with someone as funny, hard working and gorgeous as you and I hope you have a great day!! and no, of course I didn’t choose the biggest bingo square only to forget and write this in a week.. (okay, I did, so pls go easy on any errors!) as always the lovely admins at @thebtswritersclub came up with a fun challenge to prompt this story, so I will be including my makeup palette bingo square at the end so you can see what prompts I used for this! enjoy x

The moment you had seen Jung Hoseok coming through the door, your eyes rolled.

Almost entirely made of large windows, the front of the coffee shop you worked in allowed you to see all the passers-by. So when you spotted your classmate coming down the street, laughing loudly with a couple of friends, you had prayed that he would just pass by.

Of course, you could never get what you wished for.

“Yoongi-“ you tried in vain to capture your friend’s attention, but too late. Yoongi hadn’t even looked around from where he was scrubbing coffee cups when a familiar voice reached your ears, making you groan internally.

“Y/N! Hard day at work? You look frazzled.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you drawled, resigning yourself to serving him.

He simply leaned on the counter, sagging with laughter.

“Always service with a smile with you, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure you’d be just as tired if you even tried to focus in class,” you fired back.

His grin didn’t even falter. But at last, he dropped his teasing. With a scoff he ordered a tea and turned around, scrolling on his phone with his back to you as you got to work.

It seemed you had grabbed Yoongi’s attention after all, judging by the poorly-hidden snort from the washing up area.

Scowling, you chucked together a cup of tea distractedly, only too relieved when you pushed it over the counter to be rid of Hoseok. So when he sipped it only to wince in disgust, your heart sank.

“Jesus, where’s the caffeine? This is so weak.”

Your desire to argue back lost its short-lived wrestle with your customer service training, and you were reluctantly offering to make a new one. This time, you forced yourself to pay more attention. You knew that way, you could actually get rid of the nuisance on the other side of the counter.

“You see Y/N, the bag goes in the water,” Hoseok remarked, leaning over to see what you were doing.

Shooting the most passionate glare you could muster had the undesirable effect of sending him into peals of laughter.

Eventually, after making a point to leave the teabag in for much longer – at least until you noticed his fingers begin to tap on the countertop – you passed over his second cup with a sarcastic smile. His mood didn’t seem to have dampened that much, but he left without a fuss.

“You have great chemistry.”

The dry remark from behind you had you whirling around to glare at Yoongi instead. He stood in front of his stack of clean washing, observing you with a smirk.

“I don’t think Jung Hoseok knows what chemistry is,” you grumbled.

But as you set to work, a little aggressively, on scrubbing the counter, you never would have guessed how right you were. Or that it would soon become your responsibility.

“So when we sleep, what part of the brain transfers memory from white to grey matter?”

“…what’s grey matter again?”

“I think you could do with some more of it,” you muttered in lieu of an answer.

Hoseok lifted his head from his arms just enough to fix you with reproachful puppy eyes. Sighing, you tugged the textbook back across the table towards you, flipping a few pages back and jabbing your finger at the relevant passage.

Raising an eyebrow, he read it for the second time today with a growing frown.

“Long term…” he said at length.

“Long term memory!” you groaned, dropping your forehead against the heel of your hands.

Behind you, you knew Jungkook and Yoongi were watching this unfold with amusement. You weren’t sure you could take much more of this.

If you had envisaged this when you had signed up for your college’s mentor program, well, you may have changed your mind.

At last, the hour dragged by. Apparently Hoseok wanted to be there as little as you, collecting the books and leaving very quickly once you were done. Though your shift was over, you were sure you might explode if you didn’t get to rant about the guy right now.

Huffing, you marched over to the counter.

“He’s such a jerk!” you threw your hands out, “his ego’s so big, it’s like he thinks he’s too good to even try! And now it’s up to me to make sure he isn’t so behind, but there is so much to do!”

Your coworkers weren’t helping. Both had given up suppressing their laughter, openly enjoying your pain.

“You guys are no help,” you grumbled, folding your arms.

“Just be patient,” Jungkook offered, “it might get better in time.”

“Patience is not something Jung Hoseok inspires,” you retorted, “and I’m being good enough as it is! I even had the generosity to lend him my textbook!”

“You’re a saint,” Yoongi chuckled.

A withering glare later, you slung your bag over your shoulder and bid your friends a tired goodbye.

Much as you hated to admit it, there may have been some truth in what Jungkook told you. Patience did seem to be the key after all. A lot of patience.

A few more meetings had passed, and Hoseok remembered a lot more now. You weren’t sure whether it was due to the quality of your teaching or just a desire to avoid your constant scolding, but it didn’t matter too much. The result was what counted.

You were to meet again today. As always, he came as your shift finished so that you could work in the café.

“You like him really.”

Jungkook’s voice tore your eyes away from the clock you had been watching.

“I’m sorry?”

“You like him,” he repeated, “I’ve never seen you so impatient to get off work.”

“What? I’m not,” you scoffed, “it’s just-“

The little jingling bell above the door interrupted you. Never finishing your thought, you left Jungkook to meet Hoseok at the counter.

“Tea?” you asked him.

“Not if you’re making it,” he quipped, eyes already skimming the menu on the wall behind you.

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, but said no more. Hoseok’s teasing eyes returned to you as he said,

“Think you can manage a hot chocolate?”

“Of course I can make hot cock-“ your eyes widened at your momentary slip “-chocolate. I can make hot chocolate-“

But for all your correcting and muttering, there was no hiding your embarrassing moment from Hoseok, whose eyes lit up with surprise before laughter spilled out of him in reams.

“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered, Y/N!” he cackled.

Biting your tongue, you hid your burning face from him as he half-collapsed against the counter with the force of his laughter. You angrily set to work on the drink, milk sloshing in the jug as you thrust it under the machine.

“With whipped scream on top too, huh?”

Hoseok’s incessant mocking didn’t stop until you had handed him the drink. If anything could prove to Jungkook just how wrong he was, this should do it. Still, you didn’t dare to turn around and see what your friend made of the situation.

Mixing the powder into the hot milk forcefully, you glared down at the cup.

Damn Jung Hoseok! He couldn’t be any more infuriating if he tried. It wasn’t your fault he was so annoying it made it hard for you to think straight. No one else managed to rile you up so much as him.

You gave him the drink with a side of deathly glare. It only served to amuse him more.

Safe to say you were dreading the next hour.

Clocking off soon after, you hung up your apron regretfully and headed across to your usual table. Thankfully Hoseok was a bit more subdued now.

Unfortunately, you were about to find out why.

“So, Y/N,” he started as you were sitting down.

This brought your attention to him straight away. Your eyes narrowed as he toyed with his mug on the table, avoiding your eyes.

“So, uh, that textbook you lent me-“

You had a bad feeling already. Looking around, you didn’t notice it on the usual pile of books.

“Where is it?” you cut him off.

At last he raised his head to meet your eyes, and you didn’t like what you saw.

“It’s not like we need it that badly anyway,” he began, though you weren’t sure you had ever heard him sound so hesitant, “we finished most of the stuff in there anyway…”

“You lost it, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. And I think I also spilled some-“

Not waiting for him to finish, you exclaimed your frustration.

“I can’t believe you! Just because you don’t see a use for ever picking up a book, I need that! I don’t have that kind of money spare either…”

As you raked a hand through your hair, Hoseok decided now was the time to be helpful.

“Gosh, I was afraid you would do this. We have a library for a reason, you know?”

Stopping your train of thought abruptly, you lowered your hand to glower at him.

“And now you’re going to make me go in the library? Ugh, you really have it out for me.”

Incredulous laughter followed. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, observing you with raised eyebrows.

“You’re telling me you believe in those stupid rumours?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you shrugged.

“Well, you’ve got to admit the place is creepy, right? And my flatmate said she knew that girl Cindy-“

As you spoke, Hoseok’s laughing grew louder, steadily filling the café until you were forced to stop.

“What?” you hissed.

“We’ve all heard about “Cindy”,” he made quotation marks in the air, “but that’s just a story! The older students made it up to scare newbies – and it would seem it worked. But everyone knows the scariest thing in the library is just the course reading.”

Biting your tongue, you didn’t muster up a response. You would only face more ridicule if you argued about this.

“Don’t forget the librarian,” you joked half-heartedly.

Hoseok chuckled lightly, and you were glad he dropped the topic after that.

But still the issue of your sorely misused textbook remained.

There was nothing to be done. You had to go to the library.

It may seem a ridiculous thing to be scared of, especially for someone who loved books, but, as Hoseok had kindly refreshed your memory of, there were… stories. The campus library at your college warranted a degree of wariness.

Most commonly told was the story of Cindy, supposedly a student at the university many years before. No matter how dramatic the story was made, the essentials were the same; she had gone into the library and never come out.

Logically, you knew that this was just one of those quirky urban legends that came to surround certain places.

Nonetheless, your nerves only worsened as you entered the grand building.

On your way in, you only passed one other student. Most people were leaving uni at around this time, but you needed to hang around anyway because your shift was soon. You had sent a quick text to Yoongi to let him know you would be there once you found the book, and somehow it comforted you a little that someone else knew you were here.

Moving through the first few rows of tall bookshelves, you had to pass by the main desk on your way to the section you were looking for.

Doing your utmost to tread with care, sandals making as little noise as you could manage on the wooden floor, you walked on.

As you drew near, the librarian looked up. Greeting them with a bright smile, you didn’t let it show that your heart was really thumping in your chest.

Hurrying along, you only slowed once you had entered the right section. Near the back of the library, it was dimmer as no light from the window reached all the way into the corner. Utter silence dampened the air. Not even the rustling of the librarian sorting papers could be heard from here.

Alone with the hushed sound of your own breath, your eyes flicked along the rows, searching for the right name.

Spotting it at last, you wasted no time in reaching for it. But as you tried to slide it from its spot, you were met with resistance. Perhaps it was very tightly packed in its place.

You tried again with both hands. It was still wedged in, but you felt it give a little so kept pulling. You managed to tug it out a little way, but this time, the book tugged back. Holding onto it as tightly as you were, you stumbled forwards, nearly slipping out of one of your sandals.

Gulping, your brow creased. More determined this time, you tried once more, but it seemed the book only retreated further among its companions on the shelf.

Breathing heavily, you stepped back. Books were not meant to do this. You swore it had moved by itself.

Maybe Hoseok would call you crazy if this was your reason for not getting the textbook. But, you thought, staring back down the empty row of shelves, a science textbook was less important than not getting involved with the strange happenings of the library.

Already you were questioning your sanity. Books didn’t move.

Looking back at it once more, it appeared perfectly unassuming. There was nothing unusual about the book. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, driven from the fear you felt about this place.

Breathing deeply, you reached your hand out for one last try. Picking up a book couldn’t be that hard. As long as you didn’t fear it-

Your fingers came into contact with the spine, and not a moment later, the book shrunk right back. But though it shot out of sight between its neighbours, your hand was stuck to it. Your intent to snatch it straight back at any sign of movement failed, and you were yanked forwards.

Flying clean off your foot now, your sandal clattered to the floor among the silent shelves behind you.

Your stomach jerked at the sudden movement. Now, as you plunged towards the shelves, you screwed your eyes shut, anticipating the imminent collision.

None came.

Instead, your insides seemed to be suspended. You had not crashed, but still your feet didn’t meet the floor; though your eyes were closed you were certain you were falling.

Rapidly upping its pace, your heart tried to punch through your ribs the longer you were in this state, fearing your landing. Panicked, you took great gulps of air, limbs flailing fruitlessly.

You landed.

It felt like you had been falling for a long time – too long – yet the force you hit the ground with was not painful. For a second, it expelled air from your lungs, but by the time you had rolled and tumbled enough to land on your back, you were sucking in a shaky breath.

Blinking, you turned to look around you. Your arms struggled to push you from the ground, but you heaved to sit up anyway.

This was like nowhere you had ever been.

No parquet was beneath you here. The ground was earth, sparse tufts of grass growing from it. But in places, the foliage was abundant, great swathes of vibrant grass surrounding a nearby rock which protruded from the ground.

These rocks were also plentiful, though not of regular size. They poked from the ground, rough surfaces being seized by moss of all colours.

Other plants stretched higher still, all in shades of purple, green and blue. Climbing slowly to your feet, your eyes traced up the stem of a slender tree whose leaves drooped downwards with their size.

The only thing you could hope to recognise were roses that grew in places, curved petals familiar atop their stems that wound around larger plants.

In the scattered canopy above you, there appeared to be vines as well. Climbers, perhaps; it appeared as if they were winding around ceiling beams above you, except that they were in open air, pale sky stretching above them.

Very deliberately, you blinked.

Nothing changed.

Jaw hanging open, you turned slowly around. This place continued the same everywhere you looked. You certainly weren’t in the library anymore.

Taking some effort to breathe evenly, you forced your feet to still.

Remembering your phone, you quickly reached for it. But as you repeatedly pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Either you had let it run down, or it wouldn’t work in this alien place.

You replaced it in your pocket with bitter disappointment and continued to stand still, observing this place.

Purposefully, you walked towards the nearest rock. Given the way you were transported here, you were a little wary of touching random objects, but you tentatively reached for the mossy surface. Briefly grazing it, you jumped backwards, expecting something to happen.

Nothing. Just the springy surface of moss, solid and very real.

Staring at the rock, your mind ran in uncomprehending circles. How had you got here? Why? How could you get out?

Cutting through your thoughts, a thump came from behind you.

Startled, you jumped around, eyes darting in panic around the world you had found yourself in. Nothing seemed to have moved…

A cough, followed by a groan, drifted from somewhere.

Frown deepening, you stepped forwards. A few paces brought you around the next rock, bigger than the last. Not only was it taller than you, it was bordered on one side by more of the tall plants, blocking your view of what was behind it.

This was definitely where the sounds were emanating from. As you cautiously rounded the boulder, rustling sounds reached your ears.

Reaching the trees, you peered between two dark blue trunks. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.

Instead, you were greeted with the shape of a person. They wore a dark jacket, their hair also dark, but they were facing away from you where they sat.

For a moment you stood frozen. You were divided: should you announce yourself? Maybe they could help you? But for all you knew, they might not feel kindly towards you. What would another person be doing in this strange place?

Before you had the chance to decide, let alone move, the person slumped backwards to lie down, huffing a great sigh as they went.

Your eyes widened. Now you could see their face — and you certainly hadn’t expected this.

“Hoseok?”

Squeezing between the trees, you pushed your way into the small clearing he lay in. On hearing your voice, he twisted towards you with wide eyes.

“Y/N?” he jumped up, eyeing you suspiciously, “what is this place?”

“I have no idea,” you answered honestly. Then, “what are you doing here?”

Echoing your earlier words, he said, “I have no idea.”

After a moment, he seemed to remember something and looked around sharply.

“I found this,” he told you, pointing at the ground some feet away. There lay your sandal from earlier.

“Oh. Thank you.”

You flashed an awkward smile and went to pick it on, sliding it back onto the foot it had lost not long ago. Then your silence resumed.

Briefly, you did nothing but stare at each other. Then you stared again at the bizarre scenery around you.

Hoseok was first to move. Apparently becoming tired of your company so soon, he turned away with hands on his hips and began to pick through the undergrowth, which was thicker here than where you had first landed.

Even if this was all the company you were granted, you were eager to keep it, and so followed him.

A few minutes passed. Eerie silence was all around, save for the tentative brush of your footsteps against plants. He hadn’t complained about your presence, though, so you eventually decided it safe to speak.

“Did you… fall here?” you ventured.

His eyes snapped back to you. With a nod, he confirmed it.

“From the library?”

Slowing down, he allowed you to catch up and walk at his side.

“Yeah, why? You too?”

“That’s what happened to me,” you nodded, “but… what were you doing in the library?”

But Hoseok never heard those last words. A deafening, crunching crash resounded through your quiet conversation, drowning you out.

Both of you reacted quickly, spinning to the source of the monstrous sound in fear. Your hammering heart only sped up as you located a dark shape above the treetops.

“There!” you cried, grabbing onto Hoseok’s sleeve.

He spotted it as you pointed, for it was rapidly growing, soaring towards you.

“What is that?” he yelled, stumbling backwards.

You had nothing to offer in reply, instead watching with wide eyes as the creature flew closer still. Still grasping at Hoseok’s sleeve, you tugged at it, looking around for the nearest cover. He made no move. Struck dumb with awe, he seemed to be rooted to the spot.

Turning back to the sky, you were panicked to see the beast drawing closer. You could make out a long snout protruding from its head, spiny wings beating slowly and yet carrying it swiftly over the land.

The monster was enormous, blocking out a chunk of the open sky.

Not wanting to hesitate any longer, you pulled Hoseok forcefully with you as you retreated under the cover of a thick patch of foliage. He complied, still unable to tear his gaze from the flying creature.

You almost daren’t look, even now you were secluded among shadow. But curiosity overcame you.

It was near enough on top of you now. You held your breath, terror washing over you at the sight of it, close enough now that you could make out scales on the thing’s large belly. They glimmered a blazing red as it moved.

But its pace was fast, and it continued quickly, long tail etching a path through the sky behind it.

“Was that…” you breathed, after you felt enough time had passed to be safe. But your thought was too absurd for you to speak out loud.

However, Hoseok finished it for you.

“A dragon?”

Both of you slowly turned to face each other, matching expressions of perplexed shock painting your faces. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words presented themselves.

Your gaze was only severed by the return of the same cacophony to the air that had first heralded the dragon. Only now, it was louder.

Ducking by reflex, you whipped around. Above the treetops, the dragon was returning.

Still filling the air, the sound was that of treetops rupturing as the scaled beast flew low over them, snapping them like matchsticks. Once again, it seemed like the thing was coming straight towards you.

“Let’s move,” you shouted over the noise.

Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

Side by side, you raced between trees, feet and clothes catching on leaves and vines that spanned the floor. Plunging on nonetheless, you kept your eyes set determinedly ahead.

By the time your lungs demanded you stop for breath, you were sure you must have gone a considerable distance from where you had first been hiding. But the deafening crashes from above had become no quieter.

Slowing down, you sagged against a tree as you gasped for air. Just in front of you, Hoseok looked around, finding you holding yourself up shakily against the trunk.

With a look to the sky and back at you, his face sank further, eyes wide and afraid.

“Y/N!” he cried.

Lifting your head, you met his eyes. Still panting, you turned to follow a finger he raised as he took trembling steps backwards.

Overhead, the leaves seemed to shake. A shadow was sliding along the forest floor as above it, twigs and branches rained down, bouncing from their lower counterparts until they disappeared into the shrubbery.

The dragon was following you.

“Come on!” Hoseok’s voice reached you somewhere among the din.

Spinning, you found him holding a hand out to you, gesturing maniacally for you to continue. You had barely caught your breath, but forced yourself to push away from the tree and run towards him once more.

What did surprise you was that he waited for you. When you came within reach, his outstretched hand was grabbing you, pulling you along at his side.

But there was no time to think of that. Chest heaving with exertion, you willed your feet to move faster underneath you in an attempt to flee the dragon.

All at once, the tall tree trunks you had been running between, almost dense enough to form a forest, stopped. Realising too late, the two of you shot from the cover at full speed, only to find yourselves utterly exposed.

Skidding to a stop, you looked to Hoseok in panic.

Before you could take another step, shadow fell over you again, but it was not cast by harmless trees. The roar of splintering branches grew to an overwhelming crescendo as the dragon caught sight of you and dived, uncaring for the insignificant wood pushed aside by its bulk.

Beside you, Hoseok screamed hoarsely. Together you fled backwards, knowing there was no hope of outrunning your pursuer.

In a few seconds, the beast had descended, giant nostrils flaring at your eye level. Curved fangs gnashed.

With horror, you saw a glow brighten the deep tunnels atop its snout.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted another rock, rough surface towering from the ground. You barely had time to think before you were shoving Hoseok to the side so you fell together behind the barrier. Not a moment later, blazing orange flared, obscuring all other sights as fire erupted from the monster’s jaws and nostrils.

You gave no thought to the position you had fallen in, your push having left you tumbling directly on top of Hoseok. His scream rang in your ears, only rivalled by the crackling heat in the air as his arms wrapped around you. You too were curling up, hands shielding your head in some attempt to shelter.

Thankfully, the rock you had chosen was one of the larger ones and took the brunt of the blast.

Not that it encouraged you much, considering the persistence the beast had shown so far. The dying away of the heat and fire only brought on dread, gnawing low and incessant in your stomach, of the next blast.

Barely daring to breathe, you stayed still, huddling against Hoseok, who did the same.

Any moment, you expected another massive roar to rip through the air. A swipe of the malicious claws or the sizzling heat of dragon flame. The longer you waited, the harder your heart rioted in your chest.

“Students.”

You jolted violently as a loud voice resonated through the air. But it was not the dragon.

Looking around showed you no one who the voice might belong to.

“It is gone,” the voice said.

Hoseok’s hold around you was loosening. Swallowing, you became aware of your proximity and carefully extracted yourself, not looking him in the eye as you moved to sit next to him instead.

It was true that no indicator of the dragon’s presence had made itself known, but you were not inclined to trust a faceless voice. You crawled to peer around the edge of the rock. Finding the space empty, you emerged further.

The clearing was totally deserted. The only evidence of the recent fearful moments was the debris of burnt leaves and broken branches scattered across the ground.

“Who are you?” Hoseok raised his voice, though it shook a little.

You returned to his side, the voice replying as you sunk down beside him.

“Students,” the voice repeated. It was level and calm, but awfully cold. The word was spoken with disdain. “I doubt you would recognise such a voice as mine. You young humans know not the value of words, of books. I am the librarian.”

You blinked in surprise. Next to you, Hoseok sat forward from the rock you leaned against.

“You are? Can you get us out of here?” he yelled, aiming his voice at the sky for lack of target for his pleas.

“Certainly not. I am the keeper of this land. You see, due to the neglect of your kind, my creatures are only kept alive through written word, and I cannot let them be endangered. Students are all the same. Careless. I do not appreciate those who vandalise or waste the knowledge granted them through books. And so, I cannot let you take another one.”

“It’s just a science textbook,” you muttered.

Meanwhile, Hoseok was growing more desperate.

“We won’t!” he called, “just let us out!”

Ringing silence was all he received in reply.

Eventually, he flopped back against the rock with a huff. Worrying your lip, you turned to him, though you had nothing to propose for what you should do next.

His hair was a dishevelled now, strands falling into his eyes which he now turned to you. To your surprise, his mouth curved back into a smile, breathy laughs bursting from him as he rested his head back on the rock.

He shook his head.

“This is crazy.”

You had to agree.

Turning your despairing eyes away and to the surrounding forest again, you were surprised to see movement among the trees. But this creature was not enormous or fire-breathing. A sandy-coloured tail waved, blurring in the air.

Bounding through the trees and coming to a stop at the forest edge, came a labrador.

Staring in bemusement, you found the dog looking right back at you. It was panting, mouth open in a smiley-looking shape. Its tail continued wagging enthusiastically behind it.

Just as you opened your mouth to tell Hoseok, the dog went rigid, body jerking as it barked across the space.

Sitting up straight, Hoseok spotted the dog as well, and together you watched it.

The dog watched back, standing still as if waiting for something. It reminded you of the way your flatmate’s dog used to wait for you to throw the ball when you played with her.

After another minute of stillness, it barked again, then turned and ran. You jumped to your feet as the yellow tail went wagging away through the shadows.

“What are you-“ Hoseok exclaimed as you started towards the trees, following the dog’s path.

Already tired, your legs lagged behind the dog’s pace and you nearly lost sight of the sandy fur. But you kept your eyes trained on it. This animal did not seem unfriendly, or angry. Something told you that you could trust it.

“Where are you going?”

You hadn’t noticed the pursuing footsteps until Hoseok was grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. Looking around at him in annoyance, you shrugged him off and turned back around. But you had lost sight of the dog now, finding the forest empty.

Your shoulders slumped.

“I was trying to do something to get us out of here-“

“By getting more lost?”

Hoseok’s eyes blazed with anger and he threw his arms out to punctuate his yell with frustration. Opening your mouth, you returned his outrage.

“We’ve been lost since we got here! We don’t know anything about this place, but we can’t just do nothing!”

“What can we do? You heard what the librarian said.”

His volume had lowered and he took a step back.

Breathing out, you did the same, noticing only now how you had crowded each other’s space in your anger. Swallowing down your own frustration, you levelled your gaze at him. His words spoke of despair.

Sighing, you pushed a hand through your hair.

“There’s no use in fighting,” you muttered, “and I’m scared too. But we have to try.”

Lifting his eyes to you, Hoseok felt then as if he was seeing you for the first time.

You shared his fear, and had spoken that out loud, but still the steely glint never left your eyes. Rather than run or hide, you stood tall, resolved to find a way out, no matter how hopeless this crazy turn of events seemed.

“Hoseok?” you called, rendered hesitant by his silence.

Giving his head a quick shake, he averted his gaze from you.

“Hobi,” he spoke.

You frowned.

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Hobi,” he repeated, “if we’re stuck here forever, I won’t be able to stand it if you call me Hoseok all the time.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Taking that to be some odd form of agreement, you turned around and started to pick your way again through the forest, no matter how blindly. The only vague thing guiding you was the notion that the dog had left this way, but that certainty grew weaker with time.

The only thing bolstering you were the steady steps of Hobi right beside you. A reminder you weren’t alone here.

“Sorry for losing your textbook.”

Smile quirking your lips, you turned to Hobi. He was steadfastly ignoring your gaze, kicking his feet through the low undergrowth while his hands were buried in his pockets.

“If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here now,” you hummed.

That caught his attention.

“Hey! At least I’m apologising!”

“Doesn’t fix the fact we’re lost in… well, wherever this is,” you chuckled, “though I’m sure it’s worked out well for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I hadn’t come here to replace my textbook, you would be here all alone.”

Hoseok simply tilted his head in vague answer.

After a few short moments of quiet, you resumed the conversation.

“So, what were you in the library for?”

He let silence stretch out for longer than you expected, and you slowed your steps to look at him. His eyes were wide, and when he spoke, it was with a nervous smile, as if he wasn’t sure he should be smiling.

But he was too quiet, and all you heard was something that sounded like ‘yuzbook’.

“Sorry?” you frowned.

With a long-suffering sigh, he finally spoke up.

“I was looking for your science book as well.”

Your eyebrows shot upwards.

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you had decided it was my responsibility? Even though you lost it.”

“Exactly, I had lost it. I felt bad.”

“Ha!” you exclaimed, jumping around to dance in front of him, “Jung Hoseok admits remorse! What is the world coming to?!”

“I told you to call me Hobi,” he grumbled.

A smile was still bursting at your lips, but you calmed down and returned smugly to his side.

“My bad. Hobi wanted to do something nice! For me, of all people! Maybe this really is a dream…”

“You dream about me?” he grinned, teasing right back.

“Eugh, of course not,” you scoffed.

His laughter filled the forest, and you were glad of it. At length, it faded and you walked on.

“But, turns out you were right to be scared of the library,” he admitted quietly.

Simply nodding, you kept going. By now you had lost all hope to have remained on course with the dog you had seen earlier, but there was little use dwelling on that.

Most of the way, you had been trekking through forest, but now the trees were thinning. Once again, they began to be clustered in patches near protruding rocks.

Coming between two waist-height boulders, you found a pond lying cradled by short grasses and more rose plants.

Agreeing on a break, you and Hobi slumped down at its bank, though you also agreed not to drink it. Hobi seemed much more distrustful of everything you came across in this curious land than you, but there was no harm in caution, you supposed. It was true that, on getting closer to the water, it appeared to glimmer silver.

What that meant, you didn’t know, but didn’t care to investigate.

Reclining on the ground, you breathed deeply. The pond was in a large clearing, similar to the first place you had crash landed in. You couldn’t escape some dread that all this time had brought you in a mere circle to the beginning, but there was no way to be certain.

Forest lined one side of the oasis, while the other stretched away, obscured behind that rocky landscape dotted with an array of foliage.

As you scanned the area idly, a familiar blur of motion had you sitting up with a yelp.

“There! Did you see that!” you cried, but began running without waiting for a reply.

Twisting to attention, Hobi clumsily took to his feet after you.

“You sure?” he called after you.

You kept running. You had seen it – it had been right here. You were certain it was trying to lead you somewhere, and you felt compelled to follow it.

Plunging between rocks, Hobi’s slower steps faded behind you. Uncaring, you continued, eyes alert for any sign of your goal.

And there it was: another brief glimmer from just beyond the next clump of plants. You were so close. This time, you were going to reach it. It would get you out of here.

Still running, you didn’t care that the way wound deeper through the terrain, nor that the world around you darkened as you went. No, your mind was set. You kept moving.

When you finally reached what seemed to be the midst of the darkness, it never occurred to you that this was never what you had been looking for. All you were filled with was delight; in the middle of the dark clearing stood a grove of roses. They were taller than the roses you had seen so far, growing thickly and close together.

In the blackness, the petals emitted a soft glow that shone through their delicate veins.

A smile curved your lips. But as you took a slow step towards the luminescence, something emerged from behind them. It became clear that the roses themselves were not glowing, but the creature. A unicorn.

White coat shimmering with its every move, it seemed to glide over the landscape. The slender horn protruding from its head appeared crafted by the finest silversmith, with hints of colours dancing along it even in darkness.

All breath was stolen from you. Your startled exhale left a cloud lingering in the air beside your lips which glittered as the majestic animal walked in front of you.

Either it didn’t see you, or didn’t mind your presence, because it proceeded perfectly calmly. Keeping your eyes fixed on it, your feet stumbled after the serene creature without you willing them to.

You barely blinked as you followed the graceful unicorn, desperate to keep your eyes on it. You couldn’t have torn them away if you wanted to. Just watching the animal had all your tension melting away: legs feeling heavy, mind fogging. All your worries dissipated as easily as smoke in the wind.

The world was silent. It was as if your ears were plugged as you reached out, somehow confident enough to touch the noble beast.

Another step closer.

Your fingers stretched out, ready to meet the sleek, glowing coat-

“Y/N!”

A blow knocked you sideways, a weight falling with you as the shout of your name rung loudly in your ears. For a split second, you winced, expecting to be crushed on the ground, but already a hand shielded your head. Instead, you landed on a body, held securely in the person’s arms.

Gasping, you found yourself breathless. Your gaze had been severed on being tackled, and now that you blinked, dark clouds seemed to lift from your vision.

Looking around wildly, you were slow to come to your senses, but the person was already shifting.

“We need to move.”

That voice was familiar. Looking around, you found Hoseok’s eyes trained on you as he struggled to stand with your weight against him.

Clumsily getting your feet underneath you, your mouth opened, but a shriek filled the air before you could speak.

Clapping your hands over your ears, you winced at the piercing wail splitting the air.

Hoseok, however, wasted no time. He grasped your wrist, pulling you stumbling across the clearing behind him as he sprinted away.

Wide-eyed and breathless, you twisted to look behind you. The unicorn was still there, but it wasn’t glowing, just plain white. But your eyes only caught it for a second, before a darker shape was swooping from the sky.

Feet pounding, you fled the shrieking beast as it descended in a rush of feathers.

Glinting talons flashed, inches in front of your face as the bird-like shriek reached its peak.

And then you were plunged into shadow, squeezed between leaves and petals.

Hoseok slowed, dropping your hand, but you were practically frozen. You staggered backwards, eyes trained on the spot those razor sharp claws had been.

Above you, the shrill cry was quieting, echoing around the land as your attacker circled higher once more.

“What… what was that?” you panted.

“That was close,” Hoseok responded, no humour in his voice. “I was calling to you! Why didn’t you move?”

“You were?” you frowned, “I-I didn’t hear. I don’t know what happened.”

Light frown creasing his brow, Hobi looked seriously down at you. Swallowing, he looked you over. Your heart still trembled, trying to take in what had just happened, and you looked up at him fearfully. Was he angry?

Fixing his eyes on your own, Hobi stepped forward, bending to draw your faces closer together. Holding your breath, you stiffened, heart rate rocketing as his breath fell warm over your cheeks.

Then he reached his hand out. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure why your face was growing hotter under his scrutiny.

His fingers met your hair. They pulled gently at a strand.

“You had this in your hair.”

Blinking, you found him holding a rose petal up, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Right. Thank you,” you spoke awkwardly, snatching it from his hand.

“Let’s stay here for a bit,” he said then, turning around as if nothing had happened. However, you didn’t complain. You didn’t want him to see your burning cheeks.

Hobi had pulled you into the grove of roses you had seen earlier, which grew some way above your heads. The bushes were close together, providing the perfect cover. You heard no more of the shrieking monster as you walked after him through the plants.

Beautiful flower heads were nestled everywhere, the graceful bundles of petals peering at these strangers walking through their home.

Eventually, Hobi came to a halt. When you stopped at his side, he pushed aside some leaves to show you what lay beyond.

You had reached the other side of the grove and a new clearing lay before you. Unlike the other places you had been, there were no tall trees or wide rocks rising from the ground. At last it was flat.

But, most noticeably, in the middle of the clearing there was a building. Deep blue walls rose from a gold base, thin pillars winding upwards to support the corners of the many-sided roof. Small arched windows were set high up in the walls, through which you could see a silvery glow from inside.

Hobi looked around the space before emerging. No longer impatient, you wholly agreed with his caution and also peered out carefully.

As you remained mostly hidden by the roses, something came running around the house.

The dog.

Same as before, it stood looking at you, smiling mouth and wagging tail welcoming.

First, you looked to Hobi.

“What do you think?”

“You were right,” he replied, “the dog seems alright. We should give it a shot.”

Smiling, you felt assured now you were in agreement. Not stopping to think too much about the action, you placed your hand resolutely in Hobi’s and stepped forwards.

This time the dog did not begin running away, waiting for you by the blue house wall instead. As the two of you drew closer, you bent a little, holding your hand out to the creature.

“Hi!” you cooed, ignoring Hobi’s light scoff from beside you.

The dog poised as if it would bark back, but instead it looked towards the house. Following its gaze, you looked through the window and instantly fell silent.

Inside, a figure was sitting, though you could only see their head and shoulders – and a pair of wings. They fluttered lazily, glinting in the silvery light.

“The librarian,” Hobi murmured.

Nodding, you looked back to the dog.

“Will you help us?” you whispered.

Its tail wagged harder.

Smiling, you reached out to give it a gentle pat, ruffling the soft fur between its ears.

Satisfied, the sandy blond animal turned around, tail blurring all the while. It trotted away, leading you around the house. On passing the windows, you both ducked, fearing what the faerie would do if they discovered you here.

A short dash, looking over your shoulders, and you finally reached a thick row of trees. Squeezing behind the large trunks, you were surprised to see large wooden doors waiting for you.

If not for the lingering worry of the librarian somewhere nearby, you would have laughed out loud.

Hobi rushed forwards, grasping the dogs ears and ruffling them enthusiastically.

“You got us out!” he whispered happily.

You were amused to see the dog’s smiling mouth grow wider, tongue hanging out with his praise.

Jumping up with a brilliant grin, Hobi walked to the door. Waiting by the handle, he let you also say goodbye to your four-legged saviour.

“Thank you,” you told it with a loving pat. For a moment, you looked into the dog’s eyes, wishing you could somehow convey your gratitude.

Then a thought came over you. Tilting your head, you frowned slightly.

“Cindy?”

The dog’s tail whirred back into motion, hopping up and down a little at the name.

Breaking into a smile, you patted it affectionately.

“Good girl, Cindy,” you grinned, “thank you.”

Then you stood to join Hobi’s side. He lifted the great handle, which made a concerning thunk in the quiet.

Hurriedly slipping through, you fell against the other side of the wood as he followed and shut it firmly behind him. You were back at the entrance of the library, the glass doors at the front of the foyer showing the road beyond it, no different than ever as cars and pedestrians hurried along.

“Who let someone like that work in a school?” you laughed, incredulous.

Hobi laughed loudly at last, the sound bringing a bigger grin to your face.

You had made it out.

All of a sudden, a pinging sound rang from your pocket, soon over taken by at least five more.

Pulling out your phone, you found it alive again, the screen lit up and full of messages.

“Yoongi’s wondering where I am,” you muttered, “my shift…”

Hobi pushed away from the wooden door, starting to walk with you across the entrance hall. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he nodded.

“Yeah, um, I should get going too, I guess.”

Opening the main doors, you stood outside on the steps, at a loss. A bus rumbled past.

“Okay,” you spoke at length, “yeah. Er, see you around.”

Smiling briefly, Hobi took a few hesitant steps back before he committed to walking away. One last wave and he was engulfed by the crowd on the street.

You sighed and set off in the opposite direction.

The bell clinked, swinging wildly above the door as you hurried over to the counter.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you spoke as you set your stuff down.

Turning to lean against the counter, Yoongi shrugged.

“’s’alright. Where were you though?”

“Ah…”

What were you meant to say? Your head was still spinning from everything that had passed, but you knew no one would believe you if you told them the truth. Shifting a little, your teeth nipped at your lower lip while you tried to come up with a reasonable excuse.

Meanwhile, a knowing look was sliding onto Yoongi’s face.

“I see,” he grinned, and then, to your mortification, winked!

“No, you don’t- that’s not-“ you protested, but he was already snickering and turning back to the washing up.

Shaking your head, you concluded that whatever his belief was would make as good as excuse as any. At least he had made it up for you, saving the hassle.

You got to work.

Over the next couple of days, everything ran like normal. Except for you, nothing was normal.

You still had no idea how such a small amount of time had passed while you and Hobi were busy running for your lives in fear of the librarian and their crazed world. You had barely been late for your shift afterwards; when it was time for bed you had collapsed straight in, feeling as if you had been awake for two days straight.

Of course, you had never gone back for that textbook.

In college the next day, you had taken a detour to class, stubbornly avoiding the building that had all but kidnapped you, wondering at the fact no one else seemed to realise.

At the café later on, you waited impatiently for any sign of Hobi outside. He was the one person you desperately wanted to see. Surely he must be feeling the same? He would understand.

But you waited and waited, serving countless other customers without much thought. He never came, and so you were left to question your own sanity by yourself.

Nothing about your impromptu adventure made sense.

If it had been real, why didn’t Hobi act like anything had changed? You certainly couldn’t pretend that nothing had been altered between you while you had been trapped in that strange world inside the library.

Perhaps it had been a dream. All of it seemed so implausible that even recollecting it sent you spiralling with more questions.

But there was one hope. Even if Hobi remembered nothing of what transpired, you were still supposed to tutor him. You would see him next week, and try to assess what he might remember.

So when your phone buzzed that night, screen lighting up with a message from him at last, you had expected to arrange this week’s session. But all it said was: come outside.

Though you frowned, you weren’t going to pass up this chance.

Sliding off your bed, you quickly stuffed your feet into your slippers and tried your best not to break into a run on the way to the door. Collecting yourself first with a deep breath, you pulled it open.

The first thing you took in was empty space outside your door. Blinking at it, you couldn’t prevent the disappointment from creeping in. But then your eyes flickered downwards.

There at your feet lay a rose.

Your lips parted in wonder as you stooped to pick it up. Taking it between your fingers, you rolled it gently there. It was the exact same as those delicate flowers that had filled the grove where you sheltered together in the library.

A smile tugged at your mouth. It only grew as you remembered the identical petal Hobi had pulled from your hair.

He remembered.

The relief that washed over you was dizzying. Clutching the flower to your chest, you smiled out of your doorway once more, silently thanking Hobi.

But you wouldn’t have to be silent for long. Your eyes landed on a figure leaning against a lamppost a few metres away, smiling right back at you.

As your eyes met, Hobi stood straighter. His mouth shifted to a radiant grin. He had come back to you.

Thank you so much for reading!! And again, send lots of birthday love over to @moccahobi​!! As promised, here is the beautiful bingo card I used for this story:

taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @ddaechwita​ @taegularities​