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#as they all stare at each other completely dumbfounded and confused out of their minds
haunteddollz · 2 days
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stranger things masterlist
pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader (henderson)
summary: The party needs help from someone and to steve's displeasure (not really) the only person they can think of is you.
WARNING(S): cursing, fluff, and angst
author's note: this is from my old account as well sooo...
In the depths of night, Y/n Henderson was washing dishes before her mother arrived home.
She was peacefully listening to her Walkman until she saw her brother and his friends rush into the residence.
She took off her headphones and paused her Walkman. With eyebrows furrowed she looked at the group confused.
She was about to ask until she was rudely interrupted,
“What the h-”
“No time to chat! We need your help.”
The girl looked at them dumbfounded with her lips pursed and head cocked forward.
(if you have an idea of what i mean good for you if not then idk)
The younger Henderson rolled his eyes and exhaled, he continued to explain what the fuck was going on. She continued to wash and put away the dishes as she listened to her brother ramble on about Vecna and him being some powerful dark wizard.
She turned around and leaned against the sink with her arms crossed with an amused look on her face.
Once Dustin saw the look on her face he stopped talking.
“You don’t believe us do you?”
She let out an amused chuckle and replied, “Oh no, I believe you, especially with the shit that happened last time. Mind you I was in the same lab as El. I’m good with weird.”
She smiled that devilish smile and looked at the rest of them. Stopping on the boy that broke her heart.
She continued speaking and pushed herself onto the counter, “I mean c'mon I’m friends with Eddie for god’s sake. People call us freaks. I think I’d be expected to be good with weird.”
The group all nodded in unison and understanding. All saying ‘Yeah that makes sense’ .
They looked at Y/n waiting for an answer. The girl was confused as to why it got so quiet until Robin asked, “Soooo are you helping or not?”
The older Henderson’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! I completely forgot about that. Uhhhhh- I mean I have nothing else to do so I g-”
She was interrupted by Max, “Great! Then let’s go.” The girl quickly rushed of the room leaving everyone else in the dust.
Everyone nodded and soon started walking along with the girl. Except Y/n stayed planted in her spot with another person. That person being…..
Steve 'The Hair’ Harrington
She rolled her eyes at him and tried to walk away but before she could even step out of the kitchen Steve stepped in the way.
Y/n huffed in annoyance, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. She turned to him and said, “Get out of my way Harrington.” He cringed at the formalities between them. He couldn’t help but think of what they used to be but it was his fault. He broke her heart.
The look that she gave Steve sent shivers down his spine. He felt the built-up guilt bubbling inside him from three years ago.
Before, they were a happy couple both in their freshman year. They were the 'it couple’. They were happy until their junior year. Junior year they started to drift apart. Steve started spending more time with Nancy.
Y/n felt neglected and turned to Eddie Munson. They built a friendship they never thought was possible. That was until she heard about Steve’s party and some events that occurred at the Harrington residence.
Y/n was heartbroken. Steve still tried to act like he didn’t fuck Nancy the next day. She told Eddie and all he said was, “Harrington is pussy whipped.” Hearing that Y/n rolled her eyes and laughed with her best friend.
The ex-couple is still standing in the kitchen just staring at each other.
Steve started to speak, “I just, I know what I did was fucked up and I’m so sorry for what I did. I know I can’t change the past but I know I’ve changed. I just wanted to give you closure I guess.”
Y/n furrowed her eyebrows in frustration.
“I don’t need closure. That was a long time ago. We’ve both grown up and I hope we’ve both have at least on your part. Yeah sure I was upset and angry but in the end, all I wanted was for you to be happy. And if Nancy made you happy then to hell with my feelings. I knew I would get better in the meantime. I mean yeah I still have feelings for you so what. I thought I would get over you and let you be but it seems like only one part actually worked…”
As the girl kept rambling on and on. A habit that she has when she’s nervous much like Robin. Steve tries to stop the girl from rambling to have what he needs to say.
“Y/n…..”
She still rambles on.
He says laughing, “Y/n!”
The Henderson replied, “What?”
Steve chuckled while running his fingers through his hair, “You’re rambling. After a while when I was with Nancy more like when she said that our love was bullshit. I thought about you. I thought of how happy I was with you and how I wasn’t that big of a douchebag with you. You made me a better person and it finally came to me. I still love you and I always have. I haven’t felt anything for Nancy in the past two years. It’s always been you.”
(ewwww cringe)
Tears came to both of their eyes.
“Steve I get that. I do still love you but I can’t be with you again. I put that all behind me but I will gladly see what our friendship could turn into.” Steve nodded frantically saying, “Yes! I mean yes of course that’s all I need.”
With smiles on their faces, they walked out of the girl's house with a newfound friendship and ran to catch up with the party.
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0vergrowngraveyard · 14 days
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when your brother who you haven’t seen in years has a whole other family by the time you reunite
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babsisbakery · 7 months
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Kitchen miracle
Leah Williamson x dutch!reader
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“Leah, get your ass in the kitchen.” her head shoots up from her phone almost immediately. What the hell has she done this time, are her thoughts. After cautiously entering the kitchen she realises what has slipped her mind. She tried to make you breakfast but then her mum called her in the morning and she kinda forgot. So she stares at the slight mess she had made. Flour on the counter, egg shells left and right to a completely doughy mixture covered apron. A bad cook to say the least. But it's the gesture that counted. “I’m sorry my love, I totally forgot, my mum called a-” “Le what were you doing?” “Uhm tried to make you some breakfast.” It doesn't sound like a statement rather a question. “Babe, I can't be mad at you, you're too sweet for your own good.” You walk towards your girlfriend and envelope her in a tight hug. “I love you Le” with a bashful grin Leah returns the declaration. “I love you too.” After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes just enjoying the warmth of your partner, Leah speaks up, “Could you please show me how to make your favourite breakfast?”
Your head turns downwards to look into her eyes. “Of course i can, let's get to it shall we but first we should clean up this chaos love.” a giggle leaves your lips while Leah shamefully looks away. With your fingers on her chin you turn her head. “Baby there is nothing to be ashamed of.” and with leaving her time to respond you kiss her. A few moments go by, you pull away, Leah chasing your lips, unsuccessfully as you're taller than her, and you bite your lower lip as Leah’s actions are melting your heart. 
So while you are searching for the perfect playlist to start baking in the meantime Leah begins cleaning. Kitchen peace is restored pretty quickly with two people working together ideally. “Okay now I'm going to weigh everything and you take out the Pannenkoeken pan cause we are making Pannenkoekeeeeeen.” “We are making what?” “Babe you know pancakes, right?” “Of course I know what pancakes are but what in the world are Pannenkoeken?” You are amused by her confusion, her furrowed brow looks quite adorable. “It's similar to pancakes, don't question me, rather help cause I’m the one who could make something tasty.” Leah’s hand shoots to her chest acting offended but you both know she is joking.
“Step one is to mix all the dry ingredients together which means flour, salt, cinnamon and vanilla sugar.” Your girlfriend carefully combines these, eager to continue. “Now for the next step I like to whisk the eggs in a separate bowl beforehand so it's well distributed when added to the flour.” You grab an extra bowl and hand it to the defender. She does as she's told and then pours them into the dry mixture. “Well done babe. Now follows milk and a tiny bit of melted butter. And e voila.” Leah stares at you dumbfounded, “Wait that's it, we are done?” “Yeah see its pretty easy when you get the hang of it darling.” She is amazed. “But you still have to do the actual Pannenkoeken now that the ‘dough’ is ready to go.”
“I pre-heated the pan a bit for you, just have to put some butter on it and scoop the batter into the pan. Rotate the pan and wait. When the beige colour turns into a more yellowish one you flip it. Got it?” “Yeah I think I got it.” As you suspect she does it excellently. Leah gets more comfortable making them with each Pannenkoeken. While she is in her element, surprisingly, you search the cabinets for something to eat them with. Cutting up some fruit, getting out the Nutella, jam and honey plus walnuts you are all set. Two dishes are already on the counter stacked with a few Pannenkoeken. You can't believe your eyes as you turn around and find your girlfriend flipping one in the air. Luckily she catches it, serving it on your plate.
Both of you sit down on the dining table, diving in. “That was really fun my love, we should do that more often.” states Leah. A grin on your face and a satisfied stomach make you nod. “Definitely, you did an amazing job. Maybe I’ll make a chef out of you after all.” You both burst out laughing. “Good one baby, good one.”
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ficnation · 11 months
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Chapter 4: Bon Appétit
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)
This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist
Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist
PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
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When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.
“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.
“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 
“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.
It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.
“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”
Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”
You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.
“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.
For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.
Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.
“I have to keep seeing him.”
You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.
You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.
You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 
Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.
He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.
“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.
“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 
Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.
“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”
You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.
You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.
“Change your fucking tone, Will.”
You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.
“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.
Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.
“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.
Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.
“I’m proposing.”
The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.
“What the fuck, Will?”
Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.
“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”
You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?
“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”
“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”
He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”
Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.
“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 
“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”
A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.
“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 
Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.
You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.
“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 
A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.
“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.
“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”
And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 
Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 
“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”
The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.
“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.
Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.
Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.
“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.
You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.
Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.
The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 
You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.
Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 
You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 
There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 
You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.
“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 
The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 
“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.
It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 
Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.
It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.
Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.
You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.
Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.
You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.
“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.
“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”
You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.
“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.
Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.
“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 
You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.
Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.
“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 
“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”
Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.
“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”
“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.
Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 
“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 
Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.
After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.
“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.
Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 
“I know.”
His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.
You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”
Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.
“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”
“Why does she want you to stay away?”
“Because I tried to kill him.”
You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.
“How?”
Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”
You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”
A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”
Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.
“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.
“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.
The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.
“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.
You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.
“If you…”
“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.
“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”
Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.
“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 
Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.
“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”
Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 
When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.
“I love you, Will.”
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[3.17]
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― pairing : Hyunjin x fem! reader ― content warnings : fluff, friends to lovers ― word count : 597
― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌
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A deep sigh awoke you just as you were about to fall asleep. You shuffled as much as you could, or most likely, as much as Hyunjin’s arms allowed you to. Your best friend was laying behind you, protectively embracing your body as you two cuddled into each other’s warmth, both trying to fall asleep. Realizing he was still awake, you softly tapped on his arm around your waist and turned around until you faced him.
«Hyunjin,» you hummed, gently caressing his cheek and closing your eyes «Go back to sleep.» His arms tightened around your waist signalling he heard you, but he remained silent. You opened your eyes, trying to make out his shape as much as you could – as much as your dark bedroom allowed to, the tiny neon lamp painting his ceiling with various constellations slightly helping you. «What’s on your mind?» you tried again, softly. 
«Nothing, it’s just… Stupid.» Hyunjin shook his head, delicately placing his forehead against yours. You smiled, glad that whatever it was, he wasn’t so angry about it to completely shut you out from his thoughts. 
«I’m waiting.» you hummed, few silent moments later. Hyunjin sighed, and shuffled until he leaned down to hide his face in your neck.
«Stop asking me about how Felix is doing, it makes me insanely jealous.» his words were slightly muffled due to him speaking directly against your neck, so you weren’t sure you heard him well. Despite this, your heart started racing; you suspected that in the middle of the absolute silence of his bedroom he could hear it but even if he did, he said nothing
“Does he have a crush on me as well?” You thought.  You swallowed, nervously, asking him to repeat himself.
«I said,» he started, lifting himself off your body and rolling you around, so that you were laying on your back and he was partially laying on your chest. «Stop asking me about Felix. I like you, ask me about how I am doing.» he abruptly confessed, overcame by a wave of courage secretly provided by your perfectly audible quickened heartbeat. Hyunjin was perfectly aware that he was risking to destroy a friendship that had lasted for more than five years, but he felt like he had to take this weight off his heart. He felt that tonight was the right moment. You stared at him dumbfounded, your lips slightly parted.
«Hyunjin,» you said, with an insecure voice «Do you… like me, or do you… like like me?» you asked, your hands tentatively reached out to hug the other’s slim waist.
«Of course I like like you, silly.» Hyunjin chuckled, affectionately poking your nose with his index fingers and your hands immediately reached towards his nape, connecting your lips. Your answer came in the form of a kiss. Hyunjin’s kisses were exactly as you imagined them: soft, caring and gentle – exactly as Hyunjin behaved towards you during all these years. You sighed content and you felt him smiling against your lips, softly biting on it every now and then.
«I like like you, too.» you mumbled a few hours later, your head on his chest and hugging him close.
«I know.» Hyunjin whispered, you could feel he was smiling. You lift yourself up, confused.
He chuckled «Apparently, Jisung spills the best tea when he’s drunk.» You groaned, falling back on his chest with red cheeks and feeling embarrassed. Hyunjin laughed at your reaction, hugging you close to his body. You fell asleep like that not much later, both with a happy smile on your lips and a lighter heart.
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103 notes · View notes
saturnwisteria · 14 days
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Threes Company sounds interesting and I would like to hear more please
Okay okay Three's Company is a post war Ham/Brady/Croz fic. It's mostly domestic fluff atm but I'm also toying around with how much ptsd to throw in before it gets too heavy. Because the recipe does call for it but im trying to make the first foray relatively light and fun. But also, it's like, but sir those are some of my favorite things
Okay little blurb bc I couldn't sleep again <3 unedited straight from the notes app, hot and fresh for u
-
"We should get a pet," he says out of the blue one day. Ham tends to be like that, thoughts running a mile a minute, mouth only ever catching up every now and then. It's not his fault his mind skips from one thing to the next so seamlessly; maybe everyone else ought to be doing more mind exercises to keep up.
Brady furrows his brow. "Like what?"
Hambone hums. "Dunno. I've always wanted a real cat."
Brady drops his fork. Harry looks up from the paper to see Hambone wincing. Brady chews his mouthful of pancake thoroughly before swallowing with considerable effort.
"Sorry," Ham says, "Shoulda held that til after breakfast, huh?"
Brady can't answer. He's stuck somewhere in between complete incredulity and faint horror. Harry is staring across the counter at him with growing concern, mouth tucked down to one corner, one eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other. Brady watches as Harry throws a furtive, questioning glance in Hambone's direction before reaching over to take his hand.
It occurs to Brady that Harry might not have any idea what's going on right now; he's learned a lot about their time in the stalag, but Brady can't recall if they ever told him about that specific story.
The idea that, to Harry, Brady is revolted by the idea of Ham with a cat, divorced of its background context, is funny all of a sudden. He feels a giggle slide its way up his throat, and clamps his mouth shut. But the dumbfounded look that crosses Harry's face at the slight choking inhale it forces him to make is enough to do him in.
The laugh that forces its way out of his throat sounds downright deranged, and does nothing to fix the helpless confusion marring every inch of Harry's expression now. He turns to Hambone for help, only to find the man in question shaking with his own silent laughter, palm gripped tight over his mouth. Brady reaches out for him with the hand not in Croz's grasp, and takes him around the bicep, tugging his arm away from mouth.
Ham howls.
They collapse into each other, Ham's head coming to rest against Brady's shoulder, his hands supporting himself against his thigh while Brady grips the side of Ham's elbow. Almost a year out from the incident itself, and there they are. Spluttering laughs and choked gasps, two hysterical peas in a pod.
"Oh, God," Ham chokes out.
"I know, I know," Ham says, tears running down his face.
"You," Brady tries, a stitch forming in his side, "with a cat?" He pushes Hambone off to grip his ribs, squeezing to try to convince them to expand and let him breathe.
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unclewaynemunson · 2 years
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Okay,,, so Mr. Brightside is just a perfect miscommunication fic in waiting,,, right?
PERFECT INDEED. Thank you so much for sending this to me <3 Only i have no idea if your request is for Steddie or Ronance lol, so i did some 3d chess and combined them. Hope you like it anyway! If you want to, you can let me know which pairing you meant and then I'll write a proper conclusion for you :)
Her hands on his chest, their mouths hotly pressed together, his fingers eagerly zipping her dress open... It should've been perfect. It should've been years of sexual tension, years of being apart, years of yearning, finally culminating into this perfect moment. So why did it feel so wrong? Where were the sparks that should've been making the air around them static? How did it end up like this?
'Steve.' Nancy pulled back from his hungry kiss and stared at him, wide-eyed, wearing a bra that should make him lose his mind – but didn't. 'I don't think...' She took a breath. 'I don't think this is what either of us wants, anymore.'
Fuck. She looked like she was almost crying, and he had sworn to himself that he would do anything in his power to never make her cry anymore, and everything felt so wrong.
'Nance...'
'I have to tell you something,' she interrupted him. 'I um... I started feeling some very confusing things over Spring break. But not for you. For Robin.' The name was almost a whisper on her lips. 'I kinda freaked out about it, and Robin kept telling me how I should get back with you and how perfect we'd be together, and I just... I let her get into my head. And I convinced myself that everything would be fine, that I should kiss you and then everything would make sense again... But it didn't. It doesn't.'
He let out a sharp breath, completely dumbfounded by that confession. 'Fucking hell,' he finally uttered. 'I can't believe this.'
'I'm so sorry, Steve, I never wanted to – '
'No, I didn't mean it like that,' he quickly said. 'I'm not angry. I – You're not gonna believe what I have to say. But um... Eddie, he – he has been pushing me like Robin was pushing you. He kept going on about you, about us. And meanwhile I couldn't stop staring at him. And I thought I could go back to wanting you, and you were so willing to reconnect, and I tried so hard to convince myself that that's what I wanted... But all I could think about was Eddie.'
For a few seconds, Nancy stared at him in shock. Then, a loud laugh burst out of her. Steve hadn't heard her laugh like that in years: a laugh that made her whole body shake, that brought tears to her eyes, that sounded so full of wonder and so carefree. And he couldn't help but join her, because it was such a ridiculous situation: the two of them in their underwear, all the attraction that had once been there completely gone, pushed together by exactly the two people they wanted more than each other.
It was in that moment that Steve realized he had been right about one thing: he did love Nancy. He loved her in the same way he loved Robin.
Edit: pt2 is here
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open-ike · 2 years
Text
Steven and the Sea
Seven-year-old Steven sat on the rickety boulevard, swinging his legs over the edge. His feet grazed the surface of the water which rippled and scattered the sun in every direction. “Hey, homedog,” the warmth of his father’s voice came from behind. Steven’s dad lowered his arm into view, upon which rested a silver platter with a clingfilm-wrapped cheese and pickle sandwich. Steven grinned and took it. His father sat beside him and asked, “What do you see?” Steven gazed into the ocean and the two of them fell into silence. For a moment, Steven thought nothing would appear and began to deflate a little, but then he saw it. “There!” “What is it, Steven?” Dad asked, straining to see whatever his son could. “A fish! A huge big silver one!” “Quick, grab a rod!” Steven squeezed his eyes shut and delved deep into his mind, reaching in and pulling out what he needed – a little silver fishing pole. His father watched on, jaw slack, as the air between Steven’s hands rippled and shifted until it became a solid object. He’d never get used to seeing that. Steven tossed the line out toward the fish and it bit quickly, nearly tugging the little boy into the sea. Steven struggled to keep hold of the rod. The fish was strong. His father instantly lurched into action, one arm around Steven’s waist and the other tight around his fishing hand. Together, they reeled it in, and both fell on their backsides from the sheer force of it. They looked at the flopping fish, then at each other, then burst into fits of laughter. This was Steven’s life, and he loved it. But in the next few seconds, everything was shattered. His dad glanced off down the pier and something caught his eye. He leapt to his feet, and in a split second, his usual upbeat and laidback attitude evaporated. The air went cold. “Steven, you’ve got to go.” The boy looked up at him, confusion in his eyes. “Huh?” “I’m sorry, there’s no time to explain. You have to hide. I’ll come find you when it’s safe. If I don’t… you have to find your sister. She’ll take care of you.” “My sister?” Steven was dumbfounded. He had a sister? And hide where? From who? His father’s voice and posture told him clearly that this was no joke or prank or silly game. His mind was racing. He’d never even heard of a sister, let alone where he could find her. Heavy footsteps pounded down the boardwalk, a stampede so strong it made the whole structure shake. A group of men with dark-visored helmets were sprinting toward them. “You’re stronger than you know, Steven,” his dad sounded sombre. “I’m sorry.” And with that, the man swung his arm, sending Steven flying backward into the sea. The boy fell awkwardly and the shock made him gasp in saltwater, which he spluttered on upon his return to the surface. Even so, his smarts didn’t abandon him, and he managed to swim under the pier where the strange men wouldn’t see. Then, entirely lost, he stayed there in complete silence, unable to do anything but wait. The pounding stopped for a moment, then returned with several thuds and scuffling sounds. Steven stared up. Between the cracks he could only see flashes of black and flashes of white as limbs and weapons obscured the blue of the August sky. His father grunted and shouted, and Steven wished with all his heart he could help. But his dad was wrong. Steven was not strong. Steven could do nothing. With an anguished yell, a body fell hard to the ground. The silence that followed was sickening. Then, blood began to seep through the gaps, dripping steadily down into the sea. “Where’s the kid?” asked a voice. “We lost him!” “It’s fine,” said another, “He won’t survive long on his own.” The red kept dripping.
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ch4nb4ng · 3 years
Text
Evil Roommate
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pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers
warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise
requested : yes!
word count 6.2k
summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.
“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”
The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.
“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”
“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”
Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.
“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”
“What the fuck is your problem?”
You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”
Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.
“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”
A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?
“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”
His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.
“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”
“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”
Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.
“Who the fuck said you could touch me?
“Did you just fucking slap me?”
“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”
“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”
You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”
“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”
Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.
“Can you get to the point please?”
“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”
A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.
“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”
Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.
You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.
Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.
“Y/n?”
Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.
“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.
“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”
The arm he had around her waist made you sick.
“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.
“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”
“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”
You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.
“Uh no thanks Y/N-”
“We should all hang out!”
The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.
“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”
“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.
“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”
You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling
“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”
You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.
“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”
The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.
“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”
“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.
Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.
“Hello?”
His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.
“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”
“What do you need me to do?”
You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.
“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”
“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”
“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”
“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”
“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”
And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.
You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.
“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.
“Y/n what are you doing-”
“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?
Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.
“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.
“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”
She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.
“Let’s play a game!”
“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”
“I think that’s a great idea!”
You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.
“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”
***
Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.
“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”
Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.
“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”
“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”
“Yes you have.”
All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.
“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.
“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”
Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.
Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-
“Y/N? Y/N!”
The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.
“When?”
As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.
“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”
“I’m not saying it here in front of-”
“Who? Chaeyeon?”
Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.
“It was in the car.”
Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.
“The car?”
You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.
Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?
“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”
“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.
“Do you want this?”
“What?”
A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.
“I said, do you want this?”
“Do you?”
His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.
“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”
Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.
“Kiss me if you want me.”
He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.
“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”
You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.
“Fuck it.”
He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.
“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”
“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.
“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”
A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”
“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”
“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.
But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”
You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.
“Are you being serious right now?”
The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.
“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.
“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.
“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”
His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.
“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.
“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”
A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?
“Minho I’m-”
“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”
His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.
“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”
“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”
You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.
“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”
“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”
“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.
“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”
The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.
“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.
“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.
“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”
“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one
who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”
There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.
“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.
“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”
“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”
Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.
“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”
“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”
“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.
“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”
Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.
“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.
“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.
“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”
The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.
Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.
“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.
“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”
It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.
“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”
“You wanna cum baby?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna cum right now?”
“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.
“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”
And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.
“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.
“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.
“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”
You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.
“Why don’t you find out and see?”
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justauthoring · 3 years
Text
An Open Book
Prompt: Helloooo So I just read, that you're writing for Laxus from Fairytail and well here I am! Would it be possible to have an imagine where the reader is an absolute sunshine (laughing a lot, making others smile, likes giving gifts) and Laxus just being so confused by them and their seemingly endless happiness? If you don't want to write this it's fine! I hope you're doing well! Thanks! Requested by: @curious-trickster​
A/N: This is my first time writing for Laxus so I hope I do him justice... I also don’t know if I did you request justice, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Pairing: Laxus Dreyar x F!Reader
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“You’re watching her again.”
Laxus quickly adverts his gaze, trying to appear at least somewhat dignified. “I was not,” he grumbles into his hand, shifting in his seat so he’s no longer turned towards you. 
Evergreen lets out a hearty laugh; “more like staring,” she quips in response, her laughter only growing louder at the particularly nasty glare Laxus sends her way in response. Almost like instinct.
“Why don’t you just say something?” Freed questions, an innocent brow quirked in response, and Laxus turns to his friend almost in disbelief. At least, that’s how he feels -- but he’s nothing if not a perfectionist, and long ago he’s learned to perfectly school his expressions enough that even those he trusts can’t really guess what he’s thinking.
Unless, he’s staring at you. With you, he’s an open book.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The Thunder God tribe all consecutively glances at each other, the same exasperated, dumbfounded expressions on their faces as they sigh. This has been going on for months now, possibly longer given that Laxus was pretty good at hiding how he felt, and they were honestly just so tired of Laxus’ insistent need to deny it.
“Laxus,” Freed starts slowly, placentally, in the hopes of coaxing Laxus. “don’t you think--”
“Laxus!” 
Your bubbly, echoing voice sharply cuts off whatever Freed had been about to say. The Thunder God tribe all glance in your direction with a blink of surprise, watching as you made your way over to the table with a bright smile plastered on your lips, all laughter and smiles as usual.
And, of course, they also notice the way Laxus instantly straightens out at the sound of your voice.
Open book.
You come to a stop right in front of Laxus, slightly out of breath, and send a small wave in greeting towards the rest of them before you focus completely back on Laxus. “Look!” You exclaim brightly, holding a sheet of paper before his eyes. “I finally found it.”
The Thunder God tribe glance at each other, confused.
“Took you long enough,” Laxus snorts, moving to stand up. You shuffle back as he does, and the height difference has you craning your head up at him with that everlasting bright smile. You say nothing as Laxus, gently, takes the paper from your hands, eyeing it briefly before nodding to himself. “Seems perfect,” he nods down at you, and his team finds themselves even more baffled when he sends a smile down at you. “Good pay too.”
“I know,” you nod, eyes shining. “Which means I won’t get kicked out of my dorm.”
“I already told you,” Laxus sighs, “I’d never let Gramps do that.”
You wave him off, taking the paper back. “Yes, yes, but still, it’s only right of me.”
“You don’t have to pay,” he shrugs, furrowing his brows down at you. “Plus, I already told you you could stay with me.”
Your cheeks redden almost instantly, shooting a small glance at his team who have failed to look away, thoroughly intrigued, before slapping Laxus lightly on the arm. “Laxus!”
“What?”
“We promised to keep it... quiet,” you mumble, obviously embarrassed as you glance down at your feet. “Remember?”
“Oh,” Laxus glances at his team, “well I think they already knew.”
The Thunder God tribe simply blink at the two of you.
“At least, I thought they did...” Laxus mumbles, catching his friends gaze before shrugging. “Nonetheless, let’s tell Mira about the job. We can head out now.”
Your eyes instantly brighten, “really? You don’t mind?”
And then this sort of soft look comes upon Laxus, an expression his team is sure they’ve never seen, and Laxus nods, patting you softly on the head. “Of course,” and as you rush past him, a skip in your step, Freed swears he hears Laxus mumble to himself; “anything for you...”
Before dutifully following after you.
“Well, I’ll be damned...”
“Laxus has more game then I thought he did.”
“Psh, it was plain as day.”
Freed rolls his eyes, “you had no idea, Ever.”
Cheeks red, Evergreen shakes her head, “n-neither did you guys!”
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amourology · 3 years
Text
𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗎𝗆
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | college!rafe cameron x fem!reader.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | cursing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight sub!brat!rafe, slight dom!reader, rafe’s praise kink if u squint, sexual content basically. 
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after suddenly vanishing at the party last night, rafe finally comes across y/n again, in one of their shared lectures.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i had to re-post it bc my dumbass deleted it when i wanted to reblog it :(
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k. 
previous part. next part. series masterlist.
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Y/N had a love-hate relationship with her weekly lectures. The thought of attending them always sounded nice in her head – arriving a bit early, going past the cute coffee shop near the lecture hall to get herself her favorite drink, sitting in the big room with her laptop in front of her while listening to whatever it was the professor decided on teaching them this time around.
The reality of it, however, was often a lot less romanticized. She often found her attention dwindling away with each second that passed, until she ached to be let out of the room. Y/N loved going to her lectures, but she hated actually staying there. Especially after having gotten home at 2 a.m. last night, only to get up once again at 7 a.m.
“I don’t think I have the strength for this,” she mumbled under her breath, idly gazing in front of her while all the other students piled into the room.
Danica wore the same dead-eyed look as she stared into nothing. “You think? I know I don’t have the strength for this,” she complained, letting out a tired sigh while adjusting her seat.
Y/N hummed in amusement. “Okay, overachiever,” she commented, the first hint of a smile appearing on her face after throwing the slight jab at her friend. Danica rolled her eyes in return, which only made the smile she wore wider.
“Maybe if you hadn’t come home so late, you would’ve been able to know, too,” the curly-haired girl said, a small smirk lying lazily across her lips
“How do you know I came home late?” Y/N asked, briefly shifting in her seat while she grabbed one of her pens to twirl around in her hands. “We don’t even live together.”
“You make a lot of noise in the hallway when you come home intoxicated,” Danica responded, and leaned over towards the side to pull her laptop out of her bag. Placing it on the small table in front, she gave Y/N a knowing look. “Do tell, though, what was Cameron like?”
“I thought his name was Rafe,” she said, nose scrunched up in confusion.
Her friend shrugged. “It is, Rafe Cameron,” she clarified.
“Then just call him Rafe,” Y/N commented, a bit dumbfounded as to why she’d call him by his surname rather than the name he used to introduce himself with.
“Nobody does, though,” Danica said nonchalantly, a small frown overtaking her features while she tried plugging her phone charger into her laptop. “Besides,” she gave Y/N a quick glance. “People call you by your last name rather than your first, too.”
“Well, yeah,” she acknowledged, and shrugged shortly after. “But there’s a reason for that.”
A reason she, just like her lectures, had a love-hate relationship with. She seemed to have a lot of those.
“Maybe there’s a reason for Cameron, too,”
Y/N very much doubted it.
“Yeah, maybe,”
It didn’t really add up in her mind. If Rafe’s surname carried that much importance, she was sure he would’ve used it to impress her last night. Instead, he purposely left it off. Either he didn’t like to be associated with it, or it didn’t hold as much weight as Danica just tried to make her believe it did.
“But don’t change the subject,” her friend spoke up again, now completely settled in and ready for the lecture to start. “How was–” Danica paused, a soft scoff in amusement passing her lips. “Well, speak of the devil.”
Her words caught Y/N’s attention, and the girl looked up at the entrance of the auditorium. And there he was, in all his glory, and even prettier than he was last night. Rafe Cameron, gorgeous as ever, though this time his hair seemed to have been a tad messier, and from the looks of it (and the sunglasses he wore inside), she figured he was currently quite hungover.
Still, with the carelessly thrown on, black button-up that was missing the top two buttons, and the golden rings around his fingers, and the disheveled locks of hair that fell onto his forehead  – Y/N couldn’t help but think he looked absolutely breathtaking..
Though, her wholesome perception of the boy changed drastically, and rather quickly, after her eyes fell on the dark red marks along his necks. Marks, he seemed to have made no effort to hide.
It seemed Danica had noticed them, too, as a sharp gasp was heard from beside her. “Please tell me those are yours,” she all but squealed, eyes wide with excitement while she turned to look at Y/N. “It will literally make my day.”
Not able to conceal the slight feeling of smugness and pride, Y/N smirked. “Happy to be of service,” she commented, still looking straight ahead and at the boy whose neck she’d decorated with her lips last night.
“Oh, my god,” Danica breathed out, holding both sides of her chair as if she’d slide out of her seat without them. Still shocked, but still determined to get an answer, she looked at Y/N. “Well, answer my question, damn it. How was he?”
Y/N shrugged, still not tearing her eyes off of the boy. “Wouldn’t know,” she answered honestly. “I left before it could go somewhere.”
“Wha–” Danica exclaimed, turning towards her and tilting her head to the side. The look she’d given her basically declared her crazy all by itself. “And you did that because?”
“Look at him,” she said, nodding towards Rafe who’d finally found a seat in-between his friends. One of them she recognized as Isaac, the guy he was with last night. “He’s obviously hungover, D. The boy played five rounds of beer pong, god knows how far gone he was.”
Danica pursed her lips, though, nodded in understanding eventually. “Yeah, okay, okay, I get that.” She admitted, the both of them now having their gazes towards the group of boys at the other side of the room.
With the two of them intensely watching the boys, it was only a matter of them before one of them caught on. Though, luckily for them, it was the one who would’ve thought the least of it. Elio smiled sweetly, and held up a hand to wave at Y/N upon noticing her.
“You know his friends?” Danica asked, curiosity lacing her voice.
Y/N hummed in acknowledgement, and smiled back at the boy. “Elio. He’s in my Digital Design class. Got paired up with him for the next assignment,” she explained, and waved back.
“Well, lucky you, seems like Professor Oswald gifted you an in,” her friend schemed, and the knowing smirk Y/N gave her in return let her know that she’d come to that same conclusion long before her.
She hadn’t exactly figured out how yet, though she’d quickly realized last night that, despite having walked away, she definitely wasn’t going to let that be the last time she and Rafe spend some...time together. She could only hope he thought the same.
From the looks of it, he certainly did.
“Seems like you did a number on him,” Danica pointed out, nodding towards Rafe who’d knocked over his water bottle the second his eyes caught sight of her. The girl laughed, a soft, pitiful ‘aw’ at the end of it. “He’s lucky he hadn’t taken the cap off, yet.” She noted.
Dismissing her concerns about Rafe’s bottle of water, Y/N opened up her Google Docs. “We just kissed,” she reminded her. Though, she couldn’t deny – knowing he had such a reaction to her without her having done anything yet, felt strangely empowering.
“We both know you’ve pulled boys before with less than that,” Danica mused, a knowing smirk thrown her way as she did so.
Y/N stopped her movements for a bit, and raised an eyebrow at her. However, she didn’t come back with a countering comment. There was a, quite large, ring of truth to her friend’s words. So, instead, she put her attention towards their professor making her way towards the front of the room, signaling that the lecture was about to begin.
“I don’t think he’s gonna be just another boy,” was the last thing she said towards her friend, eyes slightly narrowed and head tilted to the side while deep in thought.
From the corner of her eye, she could vaguely make out the shocked expression her words had caused on Danica’s face – though, her own line of sight was too focused on the boy across the room to fully take notice.
It didn’t take long for the two of them to lock eyes, not so much as it took for either of them to look away again. Y/N took her time, taking in every detail he shared with her. Despite sitting so far away from one another, the way he shifted underneath her stare was visible even from such a distance.
She huffed in amusement, kissing her teeth with her tongue before letting a knowing smile take over her face. The last thing she saw before finally focusing on the start of the class, was the way Rafe cleared his throat and fiddled with one of his rings nervously.
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It didn’t take Rafe much time at all. Before she’d even managed to gather all her stuff after the end of the lecture, he stood in front of her. All 6’3 of him, now without sunglasses, and now blocking the way of the sunray that shone softly on her face for the entire duration of the class.
“Can I help you?” She asked, one eyebrow raised as she glanced between his face and her bag. Moving to place her laptop back in with the rest of her stuff, she briefly interrupted her gaze on him.
Just as she did so, he spoke up. “Can we talk?”
Y/N looked up, mouth opening to respond. “Alone,” Rafe clarified, eyes drifting between the girl and her friend next to her.
“Learned from last time, have you?” She mused, a soft smirk hanging over the edge of her lips. At least he knew how to articulate his words now, as she was about to tell him, once again, that they were already talking. Y/N nodded, and looked at Danica. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
Danica opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, the constant gaping closely resembling that of a fish. Then, the girl sighed. “Yeah, alright,” she mumbled under her breath, and reluctantly got up from the seat.
With the majority of the students, and Danica, now gone, it left Rafe and Y/N on their own. The latter watched while he took the seat next to her, and leaned forward just a bit.
“Look,” he began, clearing his throat as if it would get rid of the nerves. “I like you, alright?” He admitted, and Y/N noticed how he twirled the ring on his index finger with his thumb. “And – if I got it right, then I assume you also like me.”
Y/N pursed her lips, and tilted her head to the side. “Like is a big word,” she said. “But, I am attracted to you, yes.”
“Right, well, that’s close enough,” he said, glancing between the ground and her eyes. “So, I was thinking, I would like to get to know you better.”
“Mhm,” the girl hummed. Shifting in her seat, she turned to face him. Their bodies now turned towards one another, she looked him in the eye. “And you think I also want to get to know you?”
Rafe, mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze, couldn’t get himself to look away. “I think you do,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” She spoke softly, eyes briefly flickering to the final student leaving the auditorium behind him. Looking back at Rafe, she reached a hand upwards to brush his hair out of his face. “And why’s that?”
“’Cause you’re still here,” he mumbled, and watched carefully as she took her hand away from his face. “Talking to me.” He saw a small smile forming on her lips. “You could’ve left minutes ago, but you didn’t.”
Y/N’s smile grew wider, until she pulled back from him. Leaning back against the seat, she watched him exhale. “Well, look at that,” she said, the smile still present. One of her hands reached up towards his face, until she delicately cupped his chin. “Guess you’re not just a pretty face.”
Something about the sentence accompanied by the movement, had his brain running for a short circuit. And, as she stood to get up, and thus let her hand fall down from his chin, she watched in amusement while the boy stayed in the seat – taking a couple of seconds before he gathered himself and started following her.
“Wait, so, that’s a – that’s a yes?” He asked, calling out after her while, at the same time, trying his best to keep up with her.
Y/N didn’t answer. Instead, she walked towards the front of the auditorium, and took a seat on the professor’s desk. “Come here,” she said, and opened one of her arms towards him.
Rafe hesitated. He scanned the room around them, and, upon declaring it empty, started making his way towards her. “I don’t–” he started, though his words got caught in his throat when she’d grabbed ahold of his figure.
Pulling him against her and letting him stand in-between her legs, she let her arms rest on the back of his neck. The two gazed into the other’s eyes for a few seconds, both of them searching for an inch of doubt in there. When Y/N couldn’t find any, she closed the gap between them.
Their lips collided roughly, nothing sweet or gentle to be found. And Y/N let out a soft hum at the intensity of the kiss, her hands softly tugging at his hair while she tried to devour every inch of him as best as she could.
His cologne, one she figured must have been expensive from the smell alone, hit her when he pushed her forward and against his chest. Now with one hand on her lower back, and the other cupping her jaw and pushing it upwards, she let out a soft gasp when he suddenly repositioned his lips against the base of her throat.
A gentle moan tumbled past her lips as he brought his lips across her throat, her collarbone, until he finally settled them on her neck. Feeling him starting to suck softly on her skin, she had to push the pleasuring feeling he’d been giving her to the side as she pushed him back just a bit.
“Mhm, no,” she mumbled, pecking his lips.
“No?” Rafe asked, one of his hands sliding upwards towards the back of her head. He pushed carefully against it, resulting in their lips capturing one another once again. Leaving soft, but long kisses on her swollen lips, he placed his forehead against hers. “’m not allowed to mark you up?”
Y/N pretended to think, and then kissed him again. “No,” she spoke, a slight taunt to her voice.
A chuckle in disbelief left him. “Didn’t really think about that with me, now, did you?” He said, voice lower than before. Still, she didn’t waver, and looked him in the eye. Rafe shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek at the nerve of her. “Alright, listen, cut the shit, alright, babe?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words, and tilted her head to the sight. Deciding upon ignoring the rising feeling of anger, she settled upon humoring him – let’s see how far he could get before pushing her over the edge.
“Don’t get me wrong, your hard-to-get show is hot as shit, like seriously, fuck,” he shook his head, eyes glancing around the room and away from her. Perhaps that was for the best, she figured, as he wouldn’t have gotten as far had he seen the look on her face. “But it has to end eventually, yeah? So, don’t be a fucking bra–”
The drop of the word brat was what got her. And before he realized, Rafe had arched his back and leaned forward. One hand on the desk next to her to settle him, and one of her hands on his shoulders while she forced him to look her in the eye – her other hand very much occupied by holding his balls with a force that lingered on the edge of pain and pleasure.
“Tell me,” she mused. “Does that usually work on girls?”
“Usually, yes,” he croaked out, clearing his throat.
She laughed, and tightened her hold. The laugh slimming down into a smirk upon seeing him take a sharp inhale of breath. Y/N leaned towards his ear. “And did you think that would work on me, too?” She questioned, her voice the sound of a whisper.
Pulling back, she looked at him, waited for him to answer. “I don’t,” he sighed, jaw clenched.
“Because, if you did,” she said, voice harsh. His blue eyes wavered at the tone. “Then you’re a lot less smart than I gave you credit for.”
Rafe’s breathing picked up as he looked at her, and so she decided to end his current suffering to make room for a new one. Finally letting go of his balls, she leaned backwards onto the desk with the palms of her hands.
“On your knees,”
Rafe blinked. “What?”
“Well, you seem to have such a smart mouth,” she noted, throwing him a fake smile. “It’s time we put it to a better use, hm?”
The boy blinked again, dumbfounded at the demands coming from her. It was obvious he’d never been told what to do before, not in a sexual way at least – but, no matter, Y/N decided. It would be much more fun to ruin him this way.
“Well?” She said, impatience seeping through her voice, and she watched while he slowly took a step back. One of his knees hit the floor. “There, wouldn’t want you to be a fucking brat, now, would we?”
Rafe looked up upon hearing the echo of his own words, and tried his best not to let any surprise show when she roughly grabbed his hair. With both knees on the wooden floor, and with his face right in between her legs, the only thing withholding him from diving in was the hold she had on his hair.
“You have twenty minutes, honey, then the next class comes.” She told him. “Think you can do it?”
Rafe didn’t say anything, but did show her a quick nod. If anything, he was scared the words would come out as a stutter.
“Such confidence,” she cooed at his haste nod. Y/N released the tight hold on his hair and replaced it with a soft caressing of his jaw. “Let’s see if you live up to it.”
Briefly lifting herself up from the desk, she hooked her fingers into the black, lacy, and ridiculously expensive panties, and pulled them out from underneath her skirt. She saw the way Rafe’s eyes lit up, and before she knew it, he’d opened her legs.
A bit startled by his roughness, and lack of permission, Y/N told herself it didn’t matter for now. She’d get the recklessness out of him over time.
Instead, she focused on the way he started working her dripping cunt. The second she felt his soft mouth against her, she felt herself letting out a sigh of relief. Arching her back the slightest bit, she lovingly tangled her hands into his hair while looking up at the giant ceiling above them.
His tongue worked between her folds, lapping up whatever taste he could get of her. If he were presented a five-course meal right now, he was positive he’d decline it. His nose brushed over her clit while he worked his tongue in and out of her, only stopping his movements briefly to make room for his fingers.
A soft gasp left Y/N’s mouth as he entered his middle finger into her. Moving it into a ‘come here’ motion within her walls, resulting in a couple of moans falling from her lips. He continued, and shortly after added another one of his fingers, intently focused on her pleasure, though not so-focused that he couldn’t sneak a glance upwards.
Y/N panted heavily, looking down at Rafe and giving him a smile upon noticing he’d already been looking at her. The view had to have been one of the best she’d ever seen. Still, she disrupted it, and grabbed his hair to push him further into her.
Rafe complied happily, and started sucking on her clit with a force that had her close to seeing stars. With his fingers moving in and out of her rapidly, and with the pressure being applied to the spot where she needed him most, Y/N could feel her orgasm coming closer and closer.
“Fuck,” she cursed, softly tugging on his hair while she tried her best to keep herself upright on the desk. “Right, there, fuck, so good, honey, so go-.” A sharp moan interrupted her words of praise and if she’d been looking at him, she would’ve seen the way his eyes lit up at them.
Taking her words with him, Rafe did as he was told and continued on doing exactly what he was doing before. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, her back arching into his mouth while she did so, head thrown back as she basked in the feeling of bliss. She was almost there, almost, she just needed that final push.
“Fuck, Rafe, I’m gonna–” she choked out, words again being cut short by a loud moan while she felt her orgasm hitting her.
The pleasurable feeling washed over her in waves and her body twitched the slightest bit, though she tried keeping herself upwards. Rafe was still going, licking up every inch of her juices as if he hadn’t been offered a drink in years. His fingers came to a halt inside her, and she let out a soft sigh when he pulled them out.
Watching, she saw him do exactly what she was about to tell him to do, and take his long, slender fingers into his mouth. Each bit of cum was being licked off of them, and she felt herself getting worked up all over again. Still, it wasn’t enough for him, and he dived back in for more.
“Ah, honey, hey,” she cooed, a composed moan leaving her lips. Y/N watched while he returned to the comfort of being in-between her legs, and reluctantly pulled him away from her pussy. “Next class ‘s gonna start soon.”
She placed her index finger underneath his chin, nudging it upwards so he’d have to look at her. His blue eyes were full of lust and the slightest hint of submission. “Come here,” she said softly, voice velvety smooth.
Rafe hesitated a bit, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should get up from his knees, but still did so after she nodded. Once again standing between her legs, she, once again, found herself with her hands around the back of his neck.
Nudging his nose with hers, she gave him a soft, lingering kiss, one very differently from the ones they shared before. “You did so well,” she told him, muttering against his lips before pressing another kiss to it. “So good for me.”
They stood in silence for a bit, noses and foreheads touching while holding the other in their arms. Their moment of peace being shattered rather quickly, by the upcoming chatter from the students making their way towards the auditorium.
Y/N sighed softly, and quickly stole another kiss from him before she pushed herself off of the desk. “Here,” she said, and stealthily pushed her panties into his back pocket. “Something to use before I can return the favor.”
Rafe’s posture went slightly rigid, and she watched while his jaw clenched and he gulped. With his eyes on her, she smoothed out her skirt before starting her walk towards the entrance of the lecture hall.
“Wait!” He called out quickly, snapping himself out of his daze just in time. He saw her come to a stop, and she turned around to face him. “How will I see you again?” She hadn’t given him her phone number.
“I’ll find you,” she promised instead. She still had Elio as a project partner, after all.
Ignoring the tremble of her legs, the girl hastily made her way towards the exit upon seeing the first group of students entering the auditorium. Sparing him one last glance, she was careful not to bump into anyone piling into the room.
Now, with a giddy smile on her face, the last thing she heard before leaving the room was the soft ‘ding’ of her phone.
dani <3: and? how did it go?
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tags: 
@theepoguelandia @serrendipiity​ @golden-hoax​ @jemimah-b99​ @outerbcnks​ @styles94-tpwk​ @goldenroutledge​ @sylvieshay​ @pogueslandia​ @prettyboystarkey​ @basicluvvv​ @beskar-boba​ @rafeswh0ree​ @mrs-cameron​ @mackenzielovee​ @blue-4-55-readinglist​ @wrathspoet​ @drewswrld​ @iheartualot​ @thisisthewayrose​ @tsnelf7​ @twinklelilstarkey​ @alanniys​
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reidsnose · 4 years
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hair tie
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overview: spencer and the reader start carpooling to work together
genre: fluff!!
a/n: i really dont know if this one is any good i just thought the idea was cute but let me know what yall think :)
masterlist
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spencer was startled by the sudden knock, guests were rare in his little apartment, let alone this early in the morning. a bit paranoid he put his hand over the gun attached to his hip, just in case.
what surprised him even more than the unexpected knock was seeing you through the peep hole when he got to the door.
"y/n? are you ok?" he worried, scanning you up and down quickly to make sure you weren't hurt.
"no um i'm ok," you nervously chewed on your lip, "i was going to call you but i don't have your cell yet. oh my gosh this is going to sound so weird."
you were relatively new to the BAU and they were all very welcoming. the only person who seemed a little bit more closed off was Spencer.
it was true, he was avoiding you a little bit, but only because you were the most beautiful human being he had ever seen; which only made you that much more intimidating. he was afraid. what if he said something stupid? what if the second he opened his mouth you started thinking he was just his IQ. but you were fully a part of the team now. he would have to at least be aquatinted with you.
"its ok, you can say it." he encouraged kindly, causing you to visibly relax.
"ok. oh before i ask i want to preface this by saying you could totally say no i completely understand its a super weird thing especially because we barely know each other." you took a breath as he nodded, a slightly amused smile toyed with his lips.
"i understand the implications. proceed." he mentally slapped himself for wording his thoughts like that.
"do you maybe.. wanna drive to work together? i heard you talking about how you take the train and i also heard that you have an aversion to germs and i drive by your apartment to get to work anyway so i-" you cut yourself off, looking up and seeing him staring at you wide eyed. "i'm sorry this is too weird i over stepped my boundaries and now you dislike me even more. i'm sorry for interrupting your morning. um, you're going to be late for work if i don't leave you alone so ill just- sorry. i'm sorry."
truthfully, this was one of the kindest things anyone has ever offered to do for him. and you offered it with genuine kindness, no ulterior motives to try and get something from him. he stood stunned. how were you so beautiful AND kind. and still somehow a little intimidating.
"we're gonna be late" he called out.
"what?" you turned, having already walked a couple steps from his apartment, your heart beating a bit faster at the sound of his voice.
"you said i'm going to be late. but were carpooling. so we'll both be late," he said matter-a-factly, grabbing his coat and satchel.
"YES!" you laughed, a cracking a wide smile and punching the air triumphantly.
you leaned against the railing of the stairs as you watched him lock up. he was tall and slender and very handsome. so handsome. not handsome like morgan, handsome in a way you were sure you'd never seen before. an incredibly unique and scarce handsomeness that only Spencer Reid had. you tried to forget those thoughts as he began walking towards you.
"i don't dislike you, by the way." he blurted as the two of you walked down the stairs. he felt bad that he made you think he isn't fond of you; the problem was he was too fond of you.
"oh! thats good i've been trying to think of every interaction we've ever had because i was afraid i might have said or done something."
"truth be told," he huffed out a breath, "i was kind of intimidated by you."
you laughed a real, genuine laugh from deep in your belly as you reached your car. the sheer coincidence of the situation as well as your entirely non intimidating nature was seriously laughable.
"you cant be serious! did Garcia tell you?" you asked, completely dumbfounded.
"tell me what?" he asked back, confusion lacing his voice.
"that i was intimidated by you!" you confessed.
"what? this guy in Texas called me a pipe cleaner with eyes! how could i have possibly intimidated you?"
he looked around your car trying to subtly profile you. thats when he noticed you had put hand sanitizer in the passenger side door. and you had pushed the seat back to accommodate for his long legs. it was just two little things, two ways you put a little extra effort in to make him feel welcome, but he was 100% positive if he thought about it too much he would cry. he felt the need to do something like this for you. not to get even or anything, but simply because he wanted to make you feel the way he felt right now.
"i don't know! you're so tall and smart and you seemed quiet but i guess thats only because you were avoiding me. are you sure garcia didnt tell you?" you laughed, watching the road.
now it was his turn to laugh, "no i swear, Garcia didn't say anything about that to me!"
The two of you continued driving, either talking or sitting in a comfortable silence. and this little carpool became a tradition. the two of you arriving and leaving work together every single day, causing the two of you to become closer.
you had to admit, every morning and evening you spent with Spencer made him just seem more and more perfect. unbeknownst to you, the exact same thing was happening with him.
he noticed, one day, as you were pulling your hair up to tie in a ponytail, your hands alternated searching your wrists for a hair tie but there wasn't one there. once he noticed it once, he started noticing it constantly. on a case, in the office, in the car, at a bar. you always seemed to forget your hair ties.
so he went to the store after you drive him home one day, and got a few packs of hair ties. after paying for them, he put one on each wrist and the rest in his satchel, so next time, when you needed one, he'd have it.
he felt like such a creep, constantly watching you to see when you would try to put your hair up. of course the rest of the team took notice, though they had noticed your obvious incline towards each other, Spencer was clearly acting a little weird.
and then it happened.
the two of you were partnered to go to the crime scene on a case, and you went to tie up your hair before you entered the scene. he could hardly contain his excitement, his mind moving a mile a minute trying to decide how he wanted to give you the hair tie. he watched one of your hands search your wrist, but this time it pulled off a little black band and started looping it around your hair.
he couldn't believe it. he finally had a chance to make you feel a portion of the way he felt when he saw your effort in making his car Spencer-friendly, and new he had to think of a new way to do it.
snap.
he looked over and saw you holding what used to be your hair tie, now no longer a band, but a completely useless elastic line.
"you've gotta be-" you muttered to yourself, but your sentence was interrupted as Spencer nonchalantly jutted his wrist towards you. "what are you doing?"
"take my hair tie." he stated simply, trying so hard not to blush. this became even harder as your fingers graced the skin of his wrist while you pulled the hair tie off.
"oh! thank you! you're a life saver!" you breathed, cracking a wide smile as you used it to tie your hair up.
you couldn't help the butterflies going absolutely insane in your stomach. why did he have a hair tie? does he tie his hair up sometimes? why have you never seen it up? you tried to suppress a smile, that would be completely inappropriate for a crime scene.
but you couldn't suppress the warm feeling in your chest. because that was always there when Spencer was around.
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ultra mega super cool taglist:
@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife
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harrytpotter · 4 years
Text
What’s Happening To Me? — OneShot
Plot: James Potter was starting to feel more and more overprotective towards his friend Y/N and considerably annoyed at the blatant flirting she and one of his best friends were displaying publicly and at the thought she might be falling for Sirius. What was happening to him?
Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader.
Word Count: 5,9K.
A/N: I just had revised this long-ass story entirely and was pretty proud at the summary i came up with just for Tumblr to mess up with my post and erase its entire content, only leaving the title behind. Now i can’t remember the previous summary i wrote and am pissed about it. Anyways, I love writing for James and it shows. I won’t revise this again because i really am annoyed at tumblr so apologies in advance for any mistakes! :)
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James tried to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as the professor went on and on about whatever potion they were going to start working on during next week. He was really doing his best to absorb his words, but an extremely flirty pair beside him was making this task nearly impossible. He knew this was just for show since Sirius wanted to make Marlene jealous and Y/N kindly agreed to help him out, but all of this was still bothering him for some reason. Maybe it was because he knew Sirius way too well to know for sure he was enjoying this situation a little too much. Maybe it was because he cared about Y/N enough to bother if Sirius was going to end up hurting her somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Merlin, would you two stop? It’s getting annoying,” he hissed at Y/N and Sirius, whom had been all giggly and touchy for the entire class.
“Does it bother you to see a happy couple in love, Prongs?” Sirius teased, barely suppressing a laugh.
“I’m just trying to pay attention to class,” he mumbled annoyed, his fists clenching slightly.
“Don’t be mean to him, Sirius!” Y/N bumped her fist on his arm. “He’s bitter because Lily is still turning him down despite his best efforts,” Y/N looked at James sympathetically as if saying she was sorry for him.
James sighed heavily at the mention of Lily’s name. Sure, it did annoy him that she was still rejecting his attempts of woo her, but, if he was being quite frank, it didn’t bother or frustrate him like it used to. If anything, it just... he didn’t even know anymore. Why he was still chasing her. Why he was still trying to get her to go out with him. It was seeming more and more pointless lately. He wasn’t sure if he was still pinning after her for a purpose or solely for the challenge.
“Earth to James!” Y/N waved her hand in front of James’ eyes. “You there?”
James tilted his head a little so his best friend’s face could enter his visual field. Her y/h/c hair was loose in a messy way that suited her perfectly, matching harmonically her hypnotic y/e/c eyes. She had a natural confidence that seemed to radiate from her body and wrap every single soul in the room. She was truly effortlessly magnetic. James started feeling flustered suddenly, unbeknownst to why.
“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked with a brow lifted, staring at him.
“Never better, Pads!” James shot a cocky grin his way, brushing off the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.
James fell unusually quiet for the short rest of the class, his mind flickering between Y/N and Sirius and Lily. Everything just seemed so... out of place right now. He didn’t even notice Slughorn dismissing the class until Y/N tapped gently on his shoulder.
“Are you coming, Jamesy?” She asked, Sirius wrapping her against his chest. “Everyone else is already gone.”
“Sure...” James mumbled, still a little airy. His eyes wandered from Sirius’ tight grip around Y/N to her hand gently holding his wrist as her thumb caressed his skin lightly.
“Hurry up, Prongs! We can’t be late for lunch, I have a special surprise for my love here,” Sirius lifted Y/N’s chin gently whilst staring devilishly into her eyes.
James once again felt the same unsettling feeling he did before in the pit of his stomach when he noticed a subtle pink tone brushing through Y/N’s cheeks for a split second as she stared dumbfounded at Sirius.
“You two realize Marlene isn’t even here anymore to witness your annoying flirt, don’t you?” James asked his friends grumpily.
“Would you lighten up for Merlin’s sake, Prongs? Love is never annoying!” Sirius winked at him.
“Love might not be but you certainly are, darling,” Y/N retorted teasingly at Sirius, who took his free hand to his chest in mock offense.
“I usually grow on people, do you know that? Don’t you be so quick on biting the hand that feeds you,” he winged his brows at their amused female friend.
“You really are a complete prat, Sirius Black!” Y/N rolled her eyes with a large grin.
They were so invested on teasing each other that they had seemingly forget about James’ presence. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain spat an annoyed goodbye at his friends before storming off the classroom.
Y/N frowned and mentioned to follow James, but Sirius quickly grabbed her gently by the arm, stopping her from doing so.
“What are you doing? We have to go check on him! Haven’t you noticed how annoyed he left?” She lifted a brow at the grey-eyed boy.
“I did, indeed. But I also have noticed that he seems a little too annoyed at us lately, specially at me,” he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
“Your point? He’s probably still frustrated at his last unsuccessful attempt of wooing Lily,” Y/N sighed.
“Oh, love, believe me, this has nothing to do with Lily. I know Prongs way too well, better than he knows himself, if I may add.”
“Are you implying he’s in love with you?” Y/N exploded in a loud laugh. “Of course it has to do with Lily. It always has something to do with Lily.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes whilst a mischievous grin took over his face. Y/N did a pretty good job in hiding her annoyance when she mentioned Lily’s name, but Sirius could read his y/h/c friend like an open book. He noticed it.
“What now?” She frowned at him.
“Nothing, love. Nothing at all. Come, let’s sit by the Black Lake, shall we? It’s too much of a beautiful day to spend it locked indoors,” he winked knowingly at his friend whilst taking her by the hand, another plan taking form inside his mind.
——————————————————————
“Where are Padfoot and Y/N?” Remus asked no one in particular as he glanced around the Gryffindor table at lunch time.
“Haven’t seen them since Potions this morning,” Peter shrugged uninterested.
“They’re probably snogging somewhere,” James said bitterly, his eyes glued on his food.
Remus lifted a brow at James whilst Peter blinked his eyes in confusion.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus asked him with a furrowed expression.
“There’s nothing to read into it. I just meant what I said,” James shrugged, a grimace on his features as he looked at Remus and Peter.
“But Prongs...” Peter whispered as quietly as he could without being incomprehensible. “We know this between them is just for show.”
“Do we? Please, Wormy. You know Padfoot. We all do,” James said calmly. “It’s just a matter of time until they cross the line, assuming they haven’t already.”
“What if they have? It’s not like it’s any of our business,” Remus narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the messy-haired boy.
“But it is!” James exclaimed exasperatedly. “Y/N is also our friend, why do I seem like I’m the only one who cares about her wellbeing?! Padfoot is smitten with Marlene, you know that Moony. Y/N is the one who’ll end up getting hurt amidst this craziness.”
“Y/N is a smart girl, Prongs. She’s not naive. I highly doubt she or Padfoot himself will do something as stupid as that,” Remus shrugged before taking a piece of turkey to his mouth.
James bit his tongue and returned his gaze to his nearly untouched plate. He really hoped both Y/N and Sirius were smart enough to prevent what could only be described as a catastrophe, at least in his eyes. Just the thought of his best female friend being hurt by Sirius’ reckless actions made him feel like punching something. Or, more accurately, someone.
A loud sound of giggles snapped James out of his thoughts and drove him to wander his eyes to the big doors that separated the Great from the Entrance Hall. Holding hands, Y/N and Sirius were all smiles as they entered the room and approached their table.
“You almost missed the meal,” Peter scolded them with a motherly tone.
“Worry not, my dear Wormtail! We already ate,” Sirius winked at him.
“How’s that possible? You’ve just arrived,” Remus lifted a brow at Sirius.
“We raided the kitchen,” Y/N shrugged as she took a seat next to Remus.
Sirius plunk down by Y/N’s side and wrapped her in his arms guilelessly, playing with a lock of her hair. Nothing different than his usual behavior — since he and Y/N were pretty close friends themselves — but enough to drive James off the edge.
“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked him for the second time that day, looking even more amused then he did firstly.
James blinked at the sudden attention as his other three best friends stared at him inquisitively. He only then realized how tense his body was and the tight grip he had around his fork. His knuckles were white due to how much pressure he was putting into it. The Gryffindor boy relaxed with a couple of deep breaths before letting his fork rest by the side of his plate.
“Hey, Prongs!” Peter whispered excitedly, breaking the awkward silence that fell upon the usually-very-talkative Marauders. “Fourth person on your left... look who’s staring at you!”
James gladly allowed his focus to shift from Y/N and Sirius as he looked to where Peter had told him. He lifted his brows in surprise as he’s met by Lily’s eyes, a small and shy smile forming on her face as their eyes locked. James returned her smile, waiting for the butterflies to flutter his stomach as they always did whenever he used to have some kind of interaction with the redhead. But they didn’t come at all. Not this time.
“What the bloody hell is happening to me?” He thought to himself as he forced himself to hold Lily’s stare for what seemed like forever.
“Looks like someone is finally wooing the girl of their dreams,” Remus teased after James broke off the eye contact.
“It was about time! I don’t think I could stand another year of this pitiful chase, it was getting quite embarrassing mate,” Sirius joked, earning amused laughs from both Peter and Remus.
“Would you three stop already?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for you, Jamesy. Don’t mind them,” she reached for his hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. A sweet smile on her lips.
James felt his stomach leaping like crazy inside of him at her touch. He furrowed his brows at the unknown feeling, his hand lingering on hers a while too longer.
——————————————————————
“You’re staring,” Remus pointed out without taking his eyes off his book.
“I’m not!” James denied quickly. “I’m just thinking about what to write on my essay.”
“Is your essay stamped on Y/N’s and Sirius’ faces?” The boy with chocolate eyes teased.
“Don’t you think they’re spending way too much time together?” James asked as he stared at Y/N and Sirius laughing together in a distant corner inside the Common Room. Y/N’s cheeks were flustered due to how hard Sirius was making her laugh.
“Meaning?” Remus’ attention was now solely on James as he studied his friend with a quirked eyebrow.
“Meaning they’ve got other friends outside each other, you know?!” James sounded a lot more harsh than he ever planned to.
The sound of Y/N’s laugh echoed in the room once more. She sounded like a 4-year-old laughing, it was absolutely adorable and completely contagious. James couldn’t help a small smile to spread across his face. He then caught himself wishing he could make her laugh like that. His face fell suddenly as he wondered why this thought would ever cross his mind.
“If it bothers you so much why don’t you just talk to her about it?” Remus shrugged, his focus back on his book.
James reflected on his friend’s advise for a short while until his vision got red again as Sirius trailed his fingers across Y/N’s back whilst whispering something into her ear. James closed his book with a loud bang, startling Remus and other few students who sat close to them.
“Where the bloody are you going?” Remus asked as his friend got on his feet and started gathering his things.
“Somewhere I can actually study,” James mumbled before moving in the direction of the portrait hole.
James wandered aimlessly through the castle, both his mind and heart racing and pounding with questions and emotions. Was he losing his mind? He didn’t know what was happening to him, why or how it started and neither how to make it stop. Y/N didn’t seem nearly as bothered at Sirius’ blatant advances, so he shouldn’t be either, right?!
As James’ feet stopped suddenly on their own, his surroundings came into focus once again and he caught himself staring back at him in a bathroom mirror. He rested his books on top of the nearest sink and took his glasses off, throwing a quick splash of water in his face and leaning over so he could rest his hands on the basin marble.
“What’s happening to me?” He mumbled to his own reflexion.
——————————————————————
“Gather around, kids!” Slughorn said proudly in front of a cauldron as the students started arriving for the Potions class.
Y/N, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter approached the Professor and peeked curiously into the cauldron content. A mother-of-pearl sheen liquid with a spiraling steam lied inside of it. Y/N shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she instantly recognized what the potion with such an unusual shine was.
“Oh...” Sirius whispered not so quietly into her ear with an annoying teasing tone, wrapping his arm on her shoulders.
“Oh Indeed, Mr. Black,” Slughorn grinned amusedly at the raven-haired boy. “Perhaps Miss Y/L/N could tell us what this potion is?”
“Amortentia, Sir. The most powerful love potion in the world. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. It’s also known by its smelling properties. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what — or should I say who — attracts them,” Y/N promptly answered the Professor’s question.
The room was dead silent as everyone stared at the cauldron with great interest after Y/N’s words. Especially the girls, whom all eyed the liquid furtively.
“Very good, Miss L/N! Ten points to Gryffindor!” Slughorn rumbled satisfied.
“That was hot,” Sirius joked, winking at Y/N.
James clenched his teeth as he stared at Sirius, feeling increasingly annoyed at the ever so blatant flirt and not hearing Slughorn asking for a volunteer to smell the potion in front of the entire class.
“Oh, Mr. Potter!” Slughorn exclaimed, dragging his attention back to the class. “Come here now, don’t be shy,” the teacher motioned for him to approach the cauldron.
Looking around, James realized the entire class stepped back and he was standing considerably afar from them. Gulping, the always-so-brave-and-carefree Gryffindor boy slowly started to walk to the cauldron, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Just go already, mate! We all know you’re gonna smell something Lily-related anyway!” Sirius shouted from behind him, earning laughs from almost the entire student body present at the class.
“I highly doubt he will,” Lily said out of the blue, making James stop suddenly on his feet and turn around to face her.
“What was that, love?” He quirked an eyebrow at her with a devilish smile. There was nothing that turned him on more than a challenge.
“I said you wouldn’t smell me. My bet is on something Quidditch-related. But I’ll tell you what, if you do smell anything that actually has something to do with me, I’ll let you take me out on a date,” Lily crossed her arms against her chest defiantly.
That was it, the moment James had been waiting for ever since he first laid his eyes on Lily. The moment he thought would be the happiest of his life. The moment that would leave him feeling over the moon of joy. But nothing of this happened. Sure, it felt satisfactory to finally achieve a long-term goal and finally convincing Lily, but that was it. Just it.
“Go on, Potter! We don’t have all day!” Someone among the Slytherin students shouted, clearly excited to see the outcome of the proposal.
James then walked to Slughorn and stood in front of the cauldron, facing his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherin crowd.
“Now, Mr. Potter, close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Slughorn instructed as he stepped aside and left James and the cauldron all alone in the spotlight. “And then let us know what you smelled!”
James did exactly as Professor Slughorn had told him to. At first, nothing happened, and then, suddenly, a powerful wave of the most endearing and hypnotic smell enveloped him and raided all of his senses. The smell was an intoxicating mixture of patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. His eyes widened open as he instantly recognized where he had already smelled this. It was her smell. Y/N’s signature smell.
James’ eyes searched the little crowd furiously until they landed on Y/N. She was inspecting her nails, weirdly quite interested. He wanted to shout so she could look at him. He wanted to lock eyes with her and tell her what he had just smelled. He wanted to run at her and sweep her off her feet, spin her around and tell her what had been in his heart unbeknownst to him this whole time. He now knew what was happening to him.
“Mr. Potter?” Slughorn’s voice alerted James that he and the entire class were waiting for his answer.
James nodded at the Professor and allowed his eyes to land on Y/N once again before finally answering him. However, what he witnessed made his stomach sink. Y/N was whispering something into Sirius’ ear and his left hand was clutched on her waist.
“So that’s why she wouldn’t look at me,” he thought bitterly at himself.
James’ eyes wandered to Lily, a sudden frustration invading him. The redhead looked at him expectantly, unlike Y/N, who was too immersed on Sirius to notice the longing looks he had been sending her way lately. Sighing, James made a stupid decision in the heat of the moment.
“I smell vanilla and lilies,” he announced to Slughorn, knowing very well Lily smelled like that.
When he turned around to face the class again, Y/N and Sirius were nowhere to be found. Lily on the other hand, was standing right where she was, blinking with a dumbfounded expression.
——————————————————————
“Please, Sirius, don’t make me go in there,” Y/N begged Sirius as they approached the Three Broomsticks. She knew exactly what she was going to witness once they went into the establishment.
“Come on now, Y/N! Marlene is going to be there with Alice, please?” He gave her his best puppy eyes as he implored.
“How long will we have to keep up with this?” She asked, pointing back and forth between the two of them.
“Until she admits she has the hots for me,” he winked at his best friend, who simply rolled her eyes at him.
When they entered the pub, their eyes instantly fell on the table where a certain couple was having their first date. Sirius squeezed Y/N’s hand as he noticed her gaze lingering on James’ back.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She mumbled, pulling Sirius by the hand to a distant table where Remus, Peter, Alice and Marlene sat chatting happily.
“Finally! Where the two of you were?” Remus exclaimed as Y/N and Sirius approached them.
“We were a little... busy, Moony,” Sirius winked suggestively at his friends. “Seems like I’m simply irresistible to my sunshine here.”
Marlene rolled her eyes at them, clearly beyond annoyed at Y/N’s and Sirius’ presence.
“Y/N, tell me, how can you possibly tolerate him, darling?” Remus teased as he noticed Marlene’s annoyance and Sirius’ proud grin.
“I usually keep my lips on his for as long as I can so he can’t speak. That’s the key,” Y/N shrugged, getting into character.
Remus, Peter, Alice and even Marlene laughed at Sirius’ shocked expression at Y/N’s comeback. She forced herself to laugh as well even though she was feeling everything but joy right now.
Stealing a glance in James’ direction, their eyes locked for a while before he drove his attention back to Lily and Y/N felt the sudden need of fresh air.
“I have to use the loo. Be right back,” Y/N mumbled at her friends whilst getting up.
The chit-chat ceased quickly as three of the Marauders and the two girls observed the y/h/c girl shy away from them.
“So, how’s our plan going, babe?” Marlene asked excitedly to Sirius as soon as they couldn’t see Y/N anymore, linking her arm in his.
Before Sirius could say anything, Remus cut him off asking with a much shocked tone of voice: “What plan are you two talking about? Didn’t Marlene despised you like you told us when you’ve asked Y/N for help to make her jealous? Why is she calling you babe? What is going on here?”
“Hold your wolves, would ya Moony? We’ll explain everything,” Sirius grinned. “I did tell Y/N that but Marlene and I had already been sneaking around unbeknownst to general knowledge.”
“Was that supposed to enlighten me?” Remus quirked a brow at him.
“Let me explain, for Merlin’s sake!” Marlene lifted a hand in front of Sirius as he opened his mouth to start talking. “We were snogging in an empty classroom under James’ invisibility cloak this one time when he and Y/N suddenly sneaked in as they ran away from Filch-“
-
“Oh, Sirius,” Marlene mumbled pleasantly at the raven-haired boy who was brushing his lips against her neck teasingly.
“Do you like that?” He asked softly.
“Ye-Yeah,” she muttered in response amidst a heavy sigh.
The couple was suddenly startled as the classroom door clicked open and was quickly closed again with an explosion of giggles. They quickly parted as they stared confusedly at Y/N and James, whom were out of breath and leant against the dark and old rock-wall, hands clutched together.
“Merlin, did you see Filch’s face?” James asked with a laugh.
“I honestly thought he’d spit fire,” Y/N answered with a snore, her face completely flustered from all the running.
James stared at his friend in a comfort silent for quite some time, as if he was engraving her every feature in his mind. “Godric, you’re beautiful.”
Sirius gasped at his friend’s words. Marlene’s mouth fell open.
It was only when Y/N’s eyes widened that James realized he had said that out loud.
“I-I mean, you’re quite alright for a girl and everything, mate,” he added quickly, making even more of a fool out of himself.
“Yeah... thanks, mate,” Y/N answered with a furrowed expression. She was clearly embarrassed as well. “We should probably get going before Filch comes back. Where did you leave your bloody cloak anyway?”
“I’m not sure, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Sirius must’ve borrowed it,” he shrugged, opening the door and checking the outside surroundings for any sign of Filch. “Let’s go!” He grabbed Y/N by the hand and led her out of the classroom, closing the door behind them.
“Did he just say what I heard?” Sirius checked with Marlene just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he tossed the invisibility cloak on the floor.
“He actually did,” she answered, a little shocked herself. “Not that it was surprising in any way, I mean, it‘s quite obvious he has it bad for her, I just didn’t think he’d ever notice, he pinning after Lily and everything,” Marlene shrugged.
“I don’t think he reckoned his feelings just yet, James can be a bit of a thick-head sometimes.”
“A bit? And just sometimes? The lad has been chasing after the same girl - who wants nothing to do with him if I may add - for almost six whole years. He definitely is a big time thick-head,” Marlene quirked a brow at Sirius.
“You’re right...” he mumbled thoughtfully. “We have to do something, they’ve got too much pride to ever admit their feelings for each other.”
Marlene shot him a grin as the perfect idea crossed her mind, “have you told anyone about us?”
“Not yet.”
“Good, here’s what we’re going to do...” Marlene started to explain him how he’d tell everyone she didn’t want anything to do with him and then ask for Y/N’s help to make her jealous in front of all of his friends. She made sure to let him know he was supposed to flirt hard with Y/N when James was around.
-
“Did you really have to make the beginning so... graphic?” Alice asked with a grimace once Marlene had told them the entire story.
“Agreed!” Remus quirked his brows at the secret couple. “But I have to say, this idea was quite... clever.”
“It really was,” Peter nodded excitedly. “Padfoot definitely stroke a nerve by flirting with Y/N in front of Prongs.”
“And so did Lily by pretending she was finally interested in him,” Marlene smiled proudly at herself.
“Wait... what?” Sirius looked utterly shocked as he asked her.
“Yeah, sorry about that, but I thought it’d look more... realistic if you didn’t know that. You care about Y/N, you wouldn’t bare seeing her hurt without letting her know the truth,” Marlene shrugged at her boyfriend.
“Woman... you are the love of my life,” Sirius grinned devilishly at her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.
-
“That prick...” James mumbled at himself as he clenched his fists at the sight of Sirius flirting and touching Marlene. Didn’t he have no respect for Y/N? He literally just waited until she turned her back to be a complete prat.
“What?” A bored Lily asked.
James realized he had been staring at their friends table basically ever since Y/N and Sirius first showed up, leaving Lily hanging. But, truth be told, the date sucked even before that. He and Lily had zero chemistry, zero common ground, zero... everything. They definitely didn’t belong together.
“Look Evans...” he started after a heavy sigh, looking for the right words.
“This date sucks,” Lily completed as she shrugged in relief. “I know.”
“Well, I’d probably be way more gentle than that, but... that’s what I was trying to say,” he laughed.
“You didn’t smell vanilla and lilies when you inhaled Amortentia, did you?” She quirked a brow at him.
“No...” he furrowed apologetically. “I smelled patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. As in-“
“Y/N’s artisanal perfume,” she cut him off with a smirk. “Why did you lie you idiot?”
“In my defense, I was gonna tell the truth but then... I saw her and Sirius flirting and, well, you know what I did,” he shrugged.
“Your stupidness never fails to amaze me, Potter,” Lily rolled her eyes at the hazel-eyed boy. “Sirius would never get himself involved with a girl his best mate fancied.”
“Please, he could never know I fancy Y/N,” he furrowed his brows in disbelief. “I’ve only realized it myself a couple days ago.”
“Potter, you oblivious daft, everyone knows you have it bad for her for ages and the other way around,” she rolled her eyes at him once again.
“Are you saying-“
“That the entire school already realized you both long for each other? Yes. Now, let’s go,” Lily stood up and motioned with her head for him to follow her.
“Where are we going?” He asked confused.
“You are going to tell Y/N what Amortentia really smelled like to you and I am going to watch it alongside all of our friends and tease the two of you later,” she said as if it was obvious whilst they crossed the pub.
-
“He admitted his feelings towards Y/N out loud,” Lily announced amused as they approached their friends, taking Y/N’s vacant seat.
“Bloody finally!” Sirius and Remus shouted in unison as they both lifted their glasses in mock celebration.
“I have to say I thought I’d have to kiss her in front of you so your blind self would finally realize your own damn feelings,” Sirius grinned amused at James.
“Please, this is Prongs we’re talking about! He’d probably punch you in the face and still not have a clue as to why he was so angry at the whole situation,” Remus teased with a smirk.
“Sod off, would you?” James flashed his middle finger at them, his eyes scanning the entire place. “Where’s Y/N?”
“She said she was going to use the loo, let me go look for her,” Alice answered James with an excited smile.
James stood there full of hope whilst Alice went looking for Y/N, his heart pounding against his chest and his hands sweating as he thought about finally telling her how he felt.
Alice reappeared again a few minutes later, but there was no sign of Y/N as she walked back to their table.
“She wasn’t there,” she told James, a furrowed expression on her face.
“Where the bloody hell can she possibly be?” Sirius asked with a confused look.
“The castle...” James mumbled at himself before taking off hurriedly.
Marlene stood up as quickly as she could and mentioned to run after James.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asked with a scrunched face.
“Well, I’m definitely not gonna miss the pathetic scene of him finally confessing his feelings to our Y/N, will you?” She quirked an eyebrow.
The little crowd exchanged looks among them before getting up recklessly and take off on James’ trail.
——————————————————————
“How do I do that? How do I tell her I have feelings for her after saying in front of the entire class I smelled lilies as I inhaled Amortentia?” James asked breathlessly as he stopped suddenly in front of the Fat Lady portrait, turning on his heels so he could face his friends.
“Preferable with your mouth, although I suppose you could use your hands as well, you know, to make it more... intimate,” Sirius suggested with a devilishly grin, winging his eyebrows.
“Merlin. I don’t even know what to say about... that,” Lily looked disgusted at Sirius, turning to James afterwards. “Just... do something meaningful for the both of you. Use something that the two of you have in common to make it special. I’m sure it’ll earn you extra points.”
“I’m with Evans on this one,” Remus shrugged. “Sorry, Padfoot.”
They kept throwing suggestions at him, but James wasn’t paying attention anymore. Lily’s words were hammering inside his head as he was thinking about what to do. And then, suddenly, as if it was magic, a brilliant idea popped inside his mind.
“Fat Lady, has Y/N came in already?” James asked the portrait that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor tower.
“Yes, Potter, she came in a while ago in fact. She didn’t have the best of looks on her face if I may add, I’m assuming she went straight upstairs to her dormitory,” the portrait answered promptly, gladly giving away the juicy details in hopes to gossip a little bit.
“Perfect!” James grinned at the painting. “Thanks, love!” He shouted before running through the hallway.
“Should we follow him?” Peter asked Remus and Sirius.
“What if he comes back?” Sirius shrugged.
“I don’t think he will,” Lily smiled, realizing what he was about to do.
“Mind sharing the why?” Marlene quirked a brow at her.
“Think about it. What’s the one thing they both equally love fiercely?” Lily asked the little crowd with a grin. “Despite each other, of course.”
“Quidditch...” Remus answered slowly, realizing James’ intentions as well.
Before anyone could say anything, James came back and flew by them on his broom, a large grin on his face, “well? Are you lot coming or what?”
Taking off as fast as he could and with his friends on his trail, James flew around the hallways of the castle in the direction of the sloping lawns in the school grounds.
As James proceeded on his flying, he started to draw more and more curious students returning from the Hogsmeade trip, that way, by the time he had approached the exterior walls of the Gryffindor Tower, he had quite a crowd standing underneath him.
Touching the ground slightly, James gathered a few little pieces of rocks and hopped on his broom again, flying up until he reached the same level of the girls dorm’s window.
Before James could execute his plan, a loud shout from Minerva McGonagall startled him.
“James Potter, get off this broom immediately!”
Before James could answer and beg for her to let him do what he had come here to in the first place, the window cracked open. As his eyes shot in the direction of the sound, James spotted an utterly confused Y/N staring at him.
“James what the bloody hell are you doing?” She asked with a frown.
“Well, I was planning on throwing these rocks softly at your window until you opened them up, but I guess there’s no point in doing so now,” he shrugged, showing her the rocks he had clutched into his palm.
“And why would you do that?” She giggled at him, causing butterflies to flutter inside James’ stomach.
“Because I have something rather important to discuss with you, love,” he grinned.
“Why didn’t you just shout my name from the Common Room then, you mental?” She quirked her eyebrows.
“‘m afraid that wouldn’t be as nearly as romantic.”
“Romantic? What are you talking about?” She asked, a disrupted look on her face. “James, what’s going on here?”
“POTTER!” McGonagall shouted once again.
“Could you give a smitten boy a second to confess his feelings for Merlin’s sake, Minnie?” He shouted with a wink at the Professor.
“Well... I suppose I can,” she shrugged with a discreet side smirk. “And Potter?”
“Yes, Minnie?”
“Glad to see you finally build up the courage,” she smiled at the dumbfounded look the boy gave her.
Y/N was still staring at James in shock as he drove his attention back to her.
“So...” she said.
“I lied at the Potions class last week,” he said out of the blue, gliding trough the air.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I didn’t smell lilies or vanilla when I inhaled Amortentia.”
“And what did you smell?” Y/N asked and James could notice she was holding her breath back.
“Home,” the messy-haired boy answered with a gentle smile, his hazel eyes lingering on Y/N’s. “And it smelled like patchouli, sandalwood and cranberries.”
Slowly realizing he was describing her scents, Y/N’s cheeks heated up furiously as she stared at the boy she has been fancying for so long, her eyes widened in shock.
“James is this one of your jokes? If it is, I swear to Godric-“
“No, love. I’d never joke about something like that. I’d never do something like that to you,” he smiled gently. “I’m in love with you, madly in love with you. I have been for years. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”
“In that case, would you get off this broom already so I can kiss you?” Y/N said with a lovingly frown.
“Gladly!” James’ face lit up as he hurriedly closed the space between his broom and the window, hopping inside the girl’s dorm.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Y/N shook her head with a smile.
“About you? Definitely!” James grabbed Y/N by her waist and crashed his lips into her, finally tasting what true happiness was like.
4K notes · View notes
nochuvalencia · 4 years
Text
𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk
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I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi
⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.
𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have
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“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.
“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.
“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.
You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.
Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.
He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.
After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.
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You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.
You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.
“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.
A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.
It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?
You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.
He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.
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It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.
So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.
A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.
+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?
+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?
+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore
You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.
me : it’s my car asshole
me : bought it with the money u left me
me :thx baby <3
+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?
me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck
+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money
me : why should i listen to you?
me : you aren’t my bf
+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u
me : already did bye babe
You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.
Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..
And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.
This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”
You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.
“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.
“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.
“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.
“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.
And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.
“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.
“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.
“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.
“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.
“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.
“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.
“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.
“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.
“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.
Yummy as fuck.
Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.
“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.
“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.
You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.
+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run
+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove
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“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.
You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?
You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.
me : i’ll take your offer
me : this is ____ btw
You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.
+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are
+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20
+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart
Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.
In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.
You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.
“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.
“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.
“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.
“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”
You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.
“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.
“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.
“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.
“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.
You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.
Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.
It was huge.
You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.
Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.
“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.
“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.
You were wrong. He noticed immediately.
He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.
“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.
“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.
He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.
“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.
“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.
Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.
He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.
“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.
“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.
“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.
You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.
“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.
He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.
“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.
After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.
You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.
“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.
“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.
“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.
You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.
“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.
When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.
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tokrev-roses · 3 years
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Mikey with an s/o who is a twin
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Genre: Fluff, Comedy?
Warnings: none, fem!reader
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I think that if you told him there really wouldn’t be any problem
But if you didn’t and he would find it out through accident…
It would have happened early in your relationship
Like, you told him u were sick and had to stay home, so no lunch date
So he’d have his “date” with poor Draken instead, both of them sitting in a popular student-restaurant
And then he sees you. Sitting at another table. With a boy. Who was definitely not him.
And he honestly wouldn’t know what to do.
They just ordered, so he hasn’t eaten yet. Mikey-normal-mood – 1
“Yo. Ken.”
A very confused Draken, who followed Mikey’s icy stare to a table at the other end of the restaurant
“Isn’t that y/n?”
He’d say to no one, because Mikey was already making his way over there
Mikey is very prideful and confident, so he wouldn’t start by confronting you (not-you) but the boy looking at you with heart-eyes
“Who are you?”
The calm-yet-threatening tone of his voice made the couple turn their heads.
The boy your sister was out with recognized the infamous leader of Toman almost immediately, while your sister sat there, completely unimpressed by the boy interrupting her date
“Who are you?”, she’d ask him back.
Mikey finally looked at her, not sure whether that was a bullshit-act to cover the two-timing or if you (not you) lost your mind
“Oi. Y/n, didn’t you tell Mikey you’re too sick to stand up?” It was Draken’s voice behind Mikey who de-escalated the whole situation.
Your sister would be dumbfounded for a hot second, before she’d break out into laughter, confusing the other three boys even more.
“So you are Mikey? Y/n mentioned you are a bit different, but this?”
*confused Pikachu-Mikey-meme*
After that you’d of course all be cool with each other
But Mikey would be kinda grumpy after he told you and you couldn’t do anything but laugh. He was seriously worried!
He’d confuse you two afterwards, but only to tease you
Mikey can be ignorant, but not that ignorant, so he’d never confuse you on accident
But he is a lil shit, so he’d do it to annoy you
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ragingbookdragon · 3 years
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The Vampire's Masquerade PT. 1
A Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader Story
Word Count: 14,610 Warnings: NSFW (Smut), Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Past Assault and Abuse
Author's Note: I made a story mixing DC and Skyrim and you're going to like it because that's what I've put on your plate. I've chaptered the story but Tumblrs a bitch and I can't post the entire thing so I'm going to do two parts. But it's still going to take forever to read. Enjoy! :) -Thorne
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There’d only been a handful of times in his life where’d he’d been truly afraid. So afraid that his throat would tighten to the point he’d lose air, adrenaline pumping through his veins, making every motion lightning fast, hands and knees shaking for fear of what would come. One hand was all he needed to count that many times, but this made two.
He’d run out of ammunition moments before but even then, it didn’t matter because the bullets didn’t seem to even affect the creatures in the slightest. The All-Blades had been knocked out of his hands from the last hit that had sent him back into the concrete pillar—through it actually and slamming into the wall. Every bone in his body creaked under the strain as he slid down the wall, collapsing onto his side with a low groan that broke into a cough as blood splattered across the cobblestone.
His sides ached with a fury too, and he was still reeling from the fact that it hadn’t been a weapon, but claws—nails—that had slashed through his tri-weave, titanium body armor, like a hot knife through butter. He pressed one hand against his bleeding side and coughed again, clambering to his feet, though he stumbled back to a kneeling position when his left knee gave out.
A hissing laugh echoed around the courtyard and he looked up, glaring at the group coming back towards him, though his anger was short lived when one of them threw their hand down by their side and those silver nails glinted in the moonlight.
“You were foolish to come alone, human,” one of them growled, cocking their arm back, and in a flash, they were coming at him faster than any human could move, even someone like him.
This was it. He was going to die again, and he didn’t even know what was going to kill him.
But he wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t going to shut his eyes at his final moments. He steeled himself, waiting for the nails to pierce his throat when his attacker suddenly reared back with a sharp cry of pain and black blood splattered across his skin as their arm dropped to the ground, severed from their body.
The other creatures gathered around the wounded one and they all seemed to hiss at something darting around in the dark courtyard and behind the pillars. He couldn’t tell what it was because it was too fast—much faster than these things he was fighting. And bigger too. He watched in shock as each creature dropped to their knees then pitched forwards, torsos hitting the ground. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth when their heads rolled away, one tumbling right up to his boot.
They were dead but his relief was short lived as a low growl sounded above him and he drug his eyes up the giant dark mass in front of him and his jaw went slack. At least the things that were trying to kill him looked human, but this thing didn’t. And he only caught flashes in the moonlight as it took a step towards him, and the cobble cracked under the heavy stomp.
It had to be at least eight feet tall and at least seven hundred pounds if that hulking frame was any help. Suddenly it spread outwards and he sucked in a breath when he realized it was the wingspan of its large, gray wings, the tips of them pointed with long black horns. He finally got a full glimpse of its body, covered in a ragged black dress, and adorned with glinting golden jewelry and rubies.
He drew his eyes up to it’s face and he felt his heart stutter in his chest and trepidation burst through his veins at the mouth that was opened, and he saw two rows of serrated white teeth and four, long razor-sharp canines. Its eyes were glowing a crimson, locked on him and it raised an impossibly honed, clawed hand, reaching towards him.
He backpaddled away from it until his back connected with something hard and he looked behind him, seeing the wall.
“Shit,” he cursed and turned back around, and he couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped him when he saw the talons right in front of his face, curled into a fist. “Please,” he begged, and the hand uncurled and before he knew what was happening, a green light shot out of its palm and hit him in the forehead.
Peace washed over him in waves, and he swayed as his eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw was the creature reaching out to him with both hands before it all went dark.
***
He drifted along the edges of unconsciousness for hours until he was finally able to make his body wake up enough to clear the haze from his mind. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was somewhere unfamiliar—the smell around him wasn’t one he recognized, like herbs and sharp metal.
Cracking his eyes open, he caught sight of what looked like a woman standing in front of a table. Her arms were moving, and he couldn’t see what she was doing, but the gentle scrape of what sounded like a pestle and mortar reached his ears. He took a moment to scan his surroundings.
The room was small and quaint, with wine red walls and black furniture, oddities hung on the wall and he squinted when he thought he saw a bird sitting atop a perch. He blinked and sure enough, the bird’s head turned sideways, a single beady eye gazing at him as it tipped its head down.
He started to sit up when he heard, “Don’t move. You’ll tear your stiches.”
She turned and walked over to him, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Silently, she reached down beside the bedside table and he heard splashing, then she brought up a wet rag and started wiping his chest and abdomen.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy from sleep.
Her eyes didn’t shift from his sun kissed skin as she drug the rag over his abs. “My name is (Y/N) Storm-Strider. But you can call me (Y/N). What is your name?” she inquired, softly.
“Jason,” he murmured and a particular spot on his side made him wince and she halted immediately, looking for signs of discomfort on his face. “Are you alright?”
He grunted and shifted slightly. “It’s a little tender.”
She hummed and picked up a little bottle from the bedside table, using her teeth to pull out the cork. “This will sting a bit, but it will help,” she murmured and with one hand, rested the rag beneath the stitched wound, the other pouring the oozing green liquid over the area.
“Shit,” Jason hissed, feeling it sting viciously for a few moments before it started to dull and ultimately numb.
Evidently, she knew what would happen because she smirked and prodded the area with a stiletto nailed finger. “Feel better now?”
He huffed a laugh. “Can’t feel anything actually.”
“Yes, that’s what a paralytic agent will do.”
“I’m sorry, paralytic?” Jason repeated, blinking at her and she nodded.
“It’s paralyzed the nerves in that particular area.”
“What about healing?”
“Oh, that’s the joy of alchemy, darling. If one is skilled enough, they can negate negatives from potions while keeping certain aspects intact.” Suddenly, her eyes turned serious as she stared at him. “To your knowledge, were you bitten by any of the creatures you were fighting?”
“I don’t think—” he went silent, eyes narrowing as he asked, “How do you know that I was fighting?”
(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Who do you think saved you?”
Jason’s eyes went wide. “You mean that…thing…was you?” she merely smiled in return and he shook his head, feeling dumbfounded. “I thought…I thought you were going to kill me.”
She barked a laugh and rinsed the rag before wringing it again and wiping up his chest. “Hardly, darling. I haven’t killed someone of your kind in at least a few decades.” Her eyes narrowed as she admonished, “But I have to say it was foolish to enter a vampire’s coven with no protection.”
There was so much about that criticism that Jason wanted to open up but only one thing stuck out. “Vampires?”
(Y/N) met his teal eyes and smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, and two pointed canines. “I can hear your heart racing,” she commented, then reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek. “You needn’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you.”
“They did,” he shot back, and she chuckled.
“Well, that’s because you were fresh blood and you stepped into their lair.” She gave him a knowing look. “By all counts they were in their right to slit your throat and feast on your blood.” Her eyes narrowed amusedly. “After they ravaged you alive, of course. Vampires are known for desecrating the living.”
His mouth opened then it closed, and he thought a moment before asking, “If you’re one of them too…why did you kill them?”
(Y/N) hummed and set the rag on the nightstand before taking his face in her hands, tilting it left and right and up and down. She was looking for something, but Jason wasn’t sure what it was. “To be completely honest I’d been planning on it. I was waiting for a better time but when Nevermore told me there was a live human vigilante engaged in a fight with them, I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Nevermore?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion, and she tipped her head back to the bird sitting atop the perch.
“Raven.”
He blinked and deadpanned, “You named your raven, ‘Nevermore’?” a snort passed his lips. “Poe fan much?”
She scowled and with her pointers and thumbs, spread his eyelids open so she could examine at his eyes. “It was a fitting name for an elegant bird, smartass.” She shifted her fingers and opened his mouth, looking at his teeth. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Do you remember if one of them bit you?”
After she removed her fingers, he shook his head. “I don’t think any of them did.”
(Y/N) frowned, brows furrowed as she stood from the bed and moved to the window. She unlatched it and pushed them open before turning and holding out her arm.
“Nevermore, come,” she commanded lowly, and the bird landed on her arm. Her fingernails scratched lightly under his chin and she murmured, “Go to the grounds and fetch me some nightshade and bloodroots. We’ll need to concoct a cure for him just in case.”
The raven replied with low croak and flew out the open windows and she turned to him. “Nevermore will come back soon with the ingredients I need to make your cure, but since there will be a wait, I’d prefer you stay so I can monitor your possible condition.”
“You think I might become one of you?” he questioned, forcing himself to sit up despite her earlier warning. Now he was really worried. “How long do I have? What’s going to—”
(Y/N) shushed him with a raised hand. “Peace, Jason. Vampirism is a long process that takes many days. But it takes many painful days.” She replied and moved back to sit on the bed. “You might not be opposed to becoming one, but at the same time, one should choose vampirism for themselves, not fall prey and contract it without their expressed consent.”
She raised a hand and rested it on his chest, just above his heart and promised, “Please do not worry or be afraid. I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a complete recovery.”
Something warm bubbled in his chest, perhaps the sincerity of her words or maybe the calming trust that bled from her auburn eyes that glowed dimly, like embers of a fire.
“Thank you, (Y/N),” Jason murmured, cheeks warming as she pulled her hand away and smiled.
“Are you hungry or thirsty at all?” she asked, rising from the bed. “I’d be more than happy to make you something to eat or get you something to drink.”
He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted and he shook his head. “No, I think I’ll get some rest if that’s alright with you?”
(Y/N) hummed and opened the door, but just as she stepped out, she paused and turned back around, saying, “You needn’t be scared of anything harming you in this home, Jason. You can rest peacefully knowing you are completely secure.”
He trusted her—which was a first because he didn’t usually trust strangers, but he nodded and offered her a tired smile, one she returned and closed the door behind her. He shimmied back into a laying position, resting his head on the fluffy pillow, his eyes turning to the moon still in the sky. Jason stared at it, all the thoughts of what he’d learned running through his head, and he inhaled deeply, before shutting his eyes, and drifted back into sleep.
***Chapter Two***
Something cold and wet was touching his side and it made him twitch in his sleep, face contorting as he shifted away. He exhaled and his expression eased, but a moment later the cold, wet thing was pressed against his side againand before he could open his eyes, he heard a low whine.
With furrowed brows, he opened his eyes and looked down to his right, seeing a wrinkly faced dog with slobbering jowls propping its chin in the elbow of Jason’s arm, his nose pressed into his skin.
Jason snorted and reached over, scratching the dog behind one of its floppy ears. “And who are you?” The dog shook its neck and the tag on its collar jingled, prompting him to look at it. Fang the Boarhound. It read.
“Really? She named the dog ‘Fang’?” Jason rolled his eyes. “What a bookworm.” He looked down at him. “Fang the Boarhound, huh?”
The dog let out a low groan in response, head shifting to bite at the long pants Jason was wearing. He tugged on the fabric as if telling him to come on and Jason laughed heartily.
“Alright, alright. I’m getting up,” he chuckled, and Fang relented, bounding out of the bedroom. He rolled out of the bed and paused to examine himself. Every wound along his body, especially those long gouge marks from the claws had sealed up and he couldn’t fight the impressed feeling that went through him.
He tied the jogger laces tighter around his waist and walked through the door, though he stopped when he was faced with a long hallway and a lot more doors. One was at each end of the hallway and there were two on one side of the hallway, one on the other, and then a rather large opening. Jason figured that was the entry way and he tiptoed down the black carpet.
As he neared the entrance, a big black cat padded out of the opening and sat in front of him, staring up at him with golden eyes. The cat was huge, and he recognized it as a Maine Coon. A very friendly one as it pranced over to him and mewled until he opened his arms and it hopped into them.
He scratched its chin, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty kitty?” It meowed and flopped in his arms, tucking itself under his chin and Jason huffed a laugh as he walked through the entryway, immediately entering the living room. It was wine red just like the bedroom he’d left, and the furniture was dark as well.
Jason scanned the area and saw a light coming from his left; he walked over and entered the little kitchen area, seeing (Y/N) bent over the counter, Fang pressed into her side.
“No, Fang, you already ate.” She admonished. “You’re gonna get fat if you keep eating.”
He tipped his head back and let out a howl.
“Oh, is that right, big boy? You’re still hungry?” Fang grumbled and she smiled, pulling something out of her pocket. “Alright, here you go.” He took it from her and chewed on it, and she turned, grinning at Jason.
“I see Salem found you,” she remarked, walking over to scratch the cat’s belly. “Handsome boy.”
Jason nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t leave me alone until I picked him up.”
(Y/N) giggled. “That’s how he works.” She took Salem from him, smiling at how the cat mewled. “Go and do something productive, Salem.” The cat took off and she met Jason’s gaze. “Are you hungry?”
His mouth opened, but his stomach answered with a fierce growl and he felt his cheeks get hot as she snorted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she replied and turned around, grabbing something from the counter. (Y/N) spun back around and handed him a plate.
Jason took it from her and glanced down at it. There was a panini sandwich with meat and cheese and various fruits surrounding it.
“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled.
“Table’s in the living room,” she said and walked around him, leaving him to follow.
She’d already pulled a chair out when he got there and he sat down, his hunger keeping him from conversation as he began to eat, her merely watching.
After he finished the first half of his sandwich, he happened to look up just as another cat was jumping into (Y/N)’s lap, this one black too like Salem, but sleeker and spotted, and peering at him with big turquoise eyes.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t you have enough pets around here? Two cats, a mastiff, a raven. That’s a lot for one woman.”
(Y/N) grinned and ran her nails down the cat’s back, smile widening when it chirped. “I’ve got one more actually, but he’s probably not going to come out until he finds himself sure of your character.”
“Dog or cat?”
“Half-wolf, actually,” she corrected. “His name’s White-Fang.”
Jason shook his head. “What is it with you and naming your pets after animals in books?”
She shrugged. “I think their names are fitting.”
“What’s the cat’s name?” he asked, nodding at the one in her lap.
“His name is Pharaoh,” she murmured, gently scratching under his chin. “He’s an Egyptian Mau. I thought the name was appropriate for the breed.” She paused. “I’m surprised he came out so easily. Pharoah usually follows White-Fangs rather anti-social nature.” Her eyes met his. “He must sense you a good character.”
Jason wanted to counter that statement, but he simply grunted and popped a grape in his mouth. “Can I ask you a question?”
(Y/N) hummed. “I assume you’ve got many you want to ask?” he nodded, and she hummed. “Just remember curiosity killed the cat.”
He huffed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Jason gazed at her. “If those things were vampires like you…why’d you kill them?”
“Gotham has been vampiric territory for almost three centuries. Vampires like myself, who are capable of taking on another form, are tasked with keeping our kind in check.”
“You mean keeping the discovery of the supernatural a secret.”
She nodded. “That particular group has been extending itself higher and deeper into the Gotham elite. My fear was that they would try to induct some of the socialites into their coven.” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t need to consult the council to know what would happen if that occurred, so I took care of the problem before it came.”
“The council?” Jason questioned.
“The Vampiric Council. They’re responsible for overlooking all vampiric territories around the world. Really, the chain of command designates they overlook my position and I overlook lesser vampires around here.” (Y/N) sipped a glass of some red liquid he hoped wasn’t blood. “Though I haven’t been a part of the council nor its lapdog order in centuries.”
He gave her an odd look. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady’s age, but you keep saying centuries. How old are you exactly?”
(Y/N) chuckled, setting down her glass. “Do you want the age I was turned or how old I am now?”
“Both?” he quipped with a grin and she matched it.
“Hmm…I was turned when I was twenty-eight and I’m now…?” her face scrunched up. “Divines, how long ago was it when the Greeks lived?”
“About ten thousand years ago. Probably longer if you sit down and examine human history if I’m being honest.”
(Y/N) hummed. “Then I’m about ten-thousand and twenty-eight years old, give or take a few decades.”
Jason’s jaw went slack, and he simply gaped at her for a full minute. “…Are you shitting me?” he blurted out. “You lived before the Greeks were in their prime?”
She nodded and sipped her glass again. “Actually, this particular dimension wasn’t the one I was born into.” She waved a hand. “The dimension I’m originally from is much, much older.”
“How’d you manage interdimensional traveling?”
“Through sheer dumb luck and bad footing,” she griped, then let out a heavy sigh. “I was exploring a draugr ruin with a friend and somehow we came across the portal, though it was inactive.”
“And I assume the need for adventure made you curious about how to get it going again?”
(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to her glass as she murmured, “You’d assume correctly. We combined our magics and got it to come to life, but something must’ve malfunctioned. As old as the ruin was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” She swirled the liquid. “My friend was sucked into it and I reacted, trading places with her.”
She looked up and met Jason’s eyes. “She was safe, and I fell through. I ended up in Neolithic Greece, as it’s referred to now.”
He wasn’t sure he should be so shocked. Honestly, he’d probably seen and heard more stunning things but still, her age and story were incredible.
“You’re really that old?”
(Y/N) nodded. “I am.”
“How’d you manage to survive this long?”
“I wasn’t some helpless babe when I came here, Jason. I knew how to take care of myself. Whether it was shelter and nutrition or fighting.”
Fighting was something Jason could work with.
“What do you prefer to fight with?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“I’ve mastered one handed and two-handed weapons. And I’ve mastered most if not all, hand-to-hand combat-styles. But if I’m being honest, I prefer daggers and magic. It’s easier to take down targets with stealth.”
“What type of magic do you use?” Jason questioned curiously. Being trained by the All-Caste meant magic was a common in his repertoire.
(Y/N) paused and thought a moment. “Well…there’s a few different schools to the aspect of magic. Five to be exact.” Her face pinched. “Six, if you count Necromancy, but technically that falls underneath one of the five.”
“Necromancy? Like summoning dead? Bringing them back to life?”
Before she could respond, something tapped at the window and she looked over the loveseat to the glass, and hurriedly placed a grunting Pharaoh on the table as she made her way over. Cracking the window open, Nevermore hopped onto her wrist and she held her other hand out, smiling when he dropped a bundle into her palm.
“Good boy?” he crooned, and she nodded.
“Good boy, indeed,” she cooed, pressing her lips to his beak. Nevermore fluttered from her wrist to the table and started preening Pharoah who rolled onto his back and let him.
Her eyes found Jason’s and she held up the bundle. “I’ve got the ingredients needed to make your cure, Jason.”
“How long will it take?”
“Less than an hour.” (Y/N) walked around the table and headed through the entryway, Jason scrambling from his seat to follow after her, more curious than anything.
She opened one of the doors on the left of the hallway and he was surprised to see how big the bedroom was. “Master bedroom?”
“Upset I put you in the guest room?” she teased, and he snorted, watching as she walked over to a chest and bent down, opening it. (Y/N) pulled a few bottles out and shut it before rising once more and exiting her room, Jason still following as they moved back to the guest room.
He watched as she started pulling the nightshade petals off the stem and putting them in the mortar and grinding them. After she was apparently satisfied, she dropped in the bloodroots and started grinding them into a mixture that smelled absolutely foul. (Y/N) picked it up and scraped it into a bowl, then added the bottles of oils and liquids that she’d taken from the chest.
When she was finished, she turned and bypassed him, moving to the bedside table where the oil lamp was burning. She set the bowl on top and left it there, sitting on the bed.
“It will take time for the mixture to boil and form,” she explained, and he took a seat beside her.
“Thank you for doing this, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she nodded.
“I do it because it is not something you’ve chosen, but I must request a favor in return.” Jason motioned for her to continue. “The knowledge of my existence? Of Gotham being vampiric territory? Of the council? You must keep it a secret. From everyone, even those you trust the most.”
He stared at her for a moment. “I can do that, but why?”
(Y/N) sighed and gazed at her hands. “Jason, I’ve been living here in Gotham since before the American Revolution. This city has always been vampiric territory and I’ve been overseeing it for all this time.” Her gaze shifted to him. “I don’t want to pack up and leave because knowledge of supernatural existence has been revealed. It would only cause problems for both our kinds. Hell, for all kinds of supernatural.”
“There’s more?”
“Werewolves, fairies, nymphs, anything you can think of it exists.”
Jason blinked. “…Wow that’s…a lot of otherworldly beings.”
(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “You’ve no idea.” She reached over and took his hand. “But I need you to swear to me that you will keep this secret. Do not tell anyone where you were the other night or what you were fighting. I’ve already disposed of the bodies and cleaned the area. No one will ever know besides us and I need it to stay that way.”
He nodded. “I will. I swear.”
She smiled and pulled her hand away. “Thank you, Jason.”
For a few moments they sat in silence, then he leaned over and asked, “So…tell me about those magic schools.”
Clapping her hands together, she chirped, “Oh, I forgot I was talking about that!” she held up a fist. “There are five schools. Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Conjuration, and Destruction.” With every category she raised a finger.
“And Necromancy?”
“Falls under Conjuration. Each school is different, Destruction and Conjuration speak for themselves, as does Restoration. Alteration is the school of magic where it affects the world around it by altering the laws of reality and manipulating it to one's own accord, allowing you to cast spells such as water-breathing, paralysis, and dragonhide armor.”
“Illusion,” she started. “involves manipulating the mind of the enemy, allowing one to cast spells like fear, calm, and invisibility.”
Jason cocked a brow. “That spell you used on me, the one that made me pass out. Was that a calming spell?”
(Y/N) nodded. “I was worried you’d start fighting me, so I did the easiest thing. Set your mind at ease and allowed your body to rest.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it for a second, then asked, “Will you show me some spells?”
She smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.” (Y/N) raised a hand. “The school of Destruction focuses on the elevation and perfection of three basic spells: fire, frost, and sparks.” The sharp smell of magic wafted up his nose and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when she willed the purple electricity to her fingers.
“Each spell can be elevated to the master level of fire storm, blizzard, and lighting storm. All devastating spells. There are also spells that can cause health absorption from your enemies.” She smiled. “I’m favorable of those.”
“What are your favorite destruction spells?” he questioned, and she thought for a moment.
“I’m favorable to two: unbounded storms and the touch of death. Both are incredibly effective on the battlefield, though the touch of death is useful for stealth killings.”
Jason’s lips pulled in a satisfactory way. “That’s impressive. I’d love to see those in action sometime.” He smiled at her. “Show me the invisibility spell.”
“Say please,” she countered, and he chuckled.
“Pretty please.”
(Y/N) closed her eyes and waved her hand, the sparks fading into a shimmering blue cube with pink, orange, and purple swirling around her hand. She curled her hand into a fist and then released it, and to Jason’s amazement, she disappeared from sight.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “That’s awesome.”
Her giggle sounded beside him and she waved a hand that he had to squint to see. “Invisibility works on those who aren’t trained to spot changes in the environment. I’m invisible, but you can see me if you look close enough.” Snapping her fingers, she appeared instantaneously, and he blinked.
“Wow…that’s an impressive ability.”
“Thank you,” she smiled and turned her attention to the mixture that was bubbling over the lamp. “I think this should be done by now.” Taking it off the lamp, she wiggled her fingers and Jason could feel the chill from where he was sitting as she transferred it to her frozen hand, watching the steam rise from the contact.
After a moment, she handed it to him and said, “Drink.”
The natural human reaction was to smell it and that’s what he did, all but recoiling from the horrid scent. She laughed. “It’s not meant to be caramel syrup, Jason. It’s a cure for a disease. Plug your nose and chug.”
Jason scowled at her before squeezing his nostrils shut and lifting the bowl to his lips. He almost vomited when it touched his tongue, but he forced it down his throat and finished with an entire body shudder.
(Y/N) took the bowl back and gently cradled his cheek in her hand. “Let me see,” she urged, and he stared into her glowing ember eyes. Something appeared in her vision, relief, then she smiled and pulled her hand back; he mourned the loss of contact, even if her hand was freezing. “Yes, if you had caught vampirism, you’re cured of it now,” she said.
“Thank you, (Y/N),” he expressed, and she stood, giving him a smile.
“You needn’t thank me, Jason. I’m only doing what’s right.” She nodded at the chair in the corner. “I fixed your suit for you, so whenever you’re ready to leave, you may.”
As she headed for the door to give him privacy, he called out, “Can I come back to see you?” She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow, and he added rather quickly, “To see more magic and hear about your life?”
(Y/N) gave him a smile and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Jason.” She turned back around. “It’s been far too long since I had personal contact with a human. Maybe you can show me how to work a smartphone.”
“You don’t have a smartphone? In this day in age?”
“I have a rotary phone!” she retorted and scowled, “I don’t even have credit cards, Jason.”
“How do you pay for things?” he asked.
“I use cash? I’m rich, Jason. And I mean old, old world rich.”
***Chapter Three***
He hadn’t even taken one step into the cave when he was clobbered to the floor by three brothers in a bear hug. His back hit the cold cave floor and he mentally thanked that she’d healed his wounds because that probably would’ve opened them.
That being said, she hadn’t healed his sour mood because he immediately growled, “Get off me, now.”
His eldest brother looked up at him. “Jason, you’ve been missing since last night!” he cried. “We were worried about you!”
“Well, I’m obviously alive and safe, so get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.” He scowled at his brothers. “All of you.” They climbed off and pulled Jason to his feet, letting him brush off his clothes.
“Where’ve you been all night, Jay?” Tim questioned, taking a moment to pull the leather jacket away from his older brother’s side. “Your suit looks like it took damage…but I see you fixed it.” his head cocked to the side. “It looks like you used a blacksmith forge to do it.”
Jason whacked his hand away, tugging his jacket back in place to cover the fixes she’d made. “Got into a tussle with a couple gangbangers and tore my suit.” He glanced at his father who was making his way over, a frown on his face.
Bruce stood in front of him and held up a communicator. “You missed three calls. The first from Dick, the second from Alfred, and the last from me.”
“Oh my god, seriously?” he grunted. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself without having to check in every hour like a pre-teen on his first date.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, then calmly stated, “I got into a fight, got my suit ripped, and went back to an underground safehouse outside the city where I fixed it and recovered for the night.”
He looked at his family. “I’m sorry I missed the calls but I’m alive and I’m safe. So can we drop it?”
For a moment, Jason thought he was in the clear, then Dick’s eyes narrowed in that stupid way that meant he was going to say something completely ridiculous, but not exactly off the mark.
“Were you with a girl?” Dick teased. “It’s okay, Little-wing, you don’t have to be ashamed of seeing your girlfriend.”
It was a trap and by God ,Jason knew it, but damned if he couldn’t help himself. “For your information, Dickhead, I’m bisexual so I could’ve been seeing a boy, but no, I wasn’t seeing a girl. I was sleeping. Alone.”
“The lady doth protest too much methinks,” Damian smirked, and Jason pointed at him.
“I’m not above kicking your ass just because you’re younger than me,” he threatened and shoved past everyone, moving to the suit racks. “I’m going back to bed.”
“But you haven’t told us about your girlfriend,” Tim called, grinning whenever Jason threw him the finger from behind.
“I already told you, I wasn’t with anyone,” he retorted and stomped up the stairs to the study.
Dick crossed his arms over his chest with a smile and murmured, “B, I think Little-wings’ got himself a woman, don’t you?”
Bruce merely hummed in response. “I’m still concerned about the complete radio silence. He’s never done that before.”
“Oh, come on, who do you think we learned radio silence from, Mister-Robin-Go-Find-Evidence-While-I-Apprehend-Catwoman?” he countered, smirking when Bruce glowered at him. “Everyone wants a bit of privacy every now and then B, and as much as we’d love to tease Little-wing into telling us who he was with, he is entitled to his silence every now and then.”
“True,” Bruce grunted. “But I still don’t like my sons ignoring me when I’m worried.”
Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug by the three boys around him while Dick squeaked, “Aww you do care!”
“Hrn, get off me.”
***
It’d been about two months since Jason came back to (Y/N)’s home, knowing that his brothers were watching him every night to see if he’d go offline again. He’d told them to screw off more times than he could count, but finally they relented, either assured of the fact that he wasn’t going to say anything or that they actually believed he had been alone that night.
Regardless, he found himself standing in front of her home, and now that he thought about it, the place was a lot smaller outside than it was on the inside, like those tents in the Harry Potter movies. Magic. He assumed and reached up, grabbing the brass door knocker that gave him the heebie jeebies more than he wanted to admit.
The ring sat in the mouth of a brass skull that had demonic horns curled around it. He shook his head and tapped the knocker a couple times then pulled away when he heard clacking on the other side of the door.
“Open!” something said.
He turned the antique brass doorknob, pushing open the door with a quiet, “Excuse me.”
Jason paused as he stepped inside. (Y/N) wasn’t anywhere in the living room or kitchen and he frowned, wondering where she was when something tugged at his jacket sleeve.
“Here!”
Glancing down, he saw the raven hopping up and down and he smiled, holding out his wrist, watching it hop to his forearm then up to his shoulder.
“Hey Nevermore. How are you today?”
The bird croaked in return. “Happy.”
“Yeah? Where’s (Y/N) at?”
“Studio!” Nevermore replied and Jason started moving past the coffee table and couch, smiling at the Neapolitan Mastiff and Maine coon lazing.
“Hey Fang, hey Salem.”
Fang didn’t even wake up, but Salem mewled once and shut his eyes again, flopping onto the dog’s wrinkly back.
Jason got to the hallway and paused. “Alright bud, which way?”
Nevermore hopped once. “Right!”
“Right it is,” he agreed and walked down the hallway to the single open door. He knocked quietly on the doorframe and stepped inside, immediately catching sight of (Y/N) at a stool, a paintbrush in her hand as she delicately lined her work.
“Good morning, Jason,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to come back around.”
He hummed and walked over, watching as Nevermore flew off his arm to perch atop a wooden peg in the corner of the room.
“My family wouldn’t let up about the other night.”
“Ah,” she replied, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her smile. “Yes, the notorious Batfamily. Master detectives, I’ve been led to believe, hmm?”
Jason stood beside her, gazing at her ember eyes that traced the movement of the paintbrush. She must’ve been seeing something he hadn’t because her hands were shifting faster than could follow.
“You know about us?”
“That Bruce Wayne is Batman and that his children are the gangling quartet of Robins? Oh yes, Jason. I’ve known since he took up the mantle.” Her eyes finally found his. “Pull that stool from over there and sit. I’ll be here for some time.”
He did as she said and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees. “Who are you painting this for?”
(Y/N) shrugged. “Some billionaire in Hong Kong commissioned a painting of his dog and his brood of pups.”
“You don’t know the guy’s name?” Jason snorted and she shook her head.
“As I said, you’re the first personal human contact I’ve had in decades.” She dabbed the paintbrush in blue and painted the eyes of the sire. “I don’t typically associate with humanity much anymore. It’s easier to let things simply pass by.”
He frowned. “That seems like a lonely existence, (Y/N).”
“Not so much. I’ve had the boys for all this time.”
Jason blinked, then looked at Nevermore. “Wait, how old are your pets?”
“Immortality doesn’t just stop at vampires, Jason. The boys are all of extended lifeforms.” She smiled that pearly white grin and he saw the pointed canines. “Nevermore for example is tied to my life. He won’t die unless I do.”
“What if he gets crushed in a meat grinder?” Jason countered. “I feel like would stop him from coming back.”
“He’d come back missing a few feathers,” (Y/N) snorted when Nevermore squawked in anger. “But trust me, he’d come back, Jason.” She glanced at him. “How’ve you been? Any more problems?” He scowled, making her laugh. “Oh, this I have to hear.”
Jason grunted. “My brothers wouldn’t leave me alone about that night I was radio silent. They kept asking who my girlfriend was.”
“Did you tell them?”
“Tell them what?” he repeated, confused.
“Who your girlfriend was.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
(Y/N) huffed. “Should’ve said you were with someone. That probably would’ve gotten them off your back enough.”
“I thought you said to keep it a secret,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I did. But people are going to believe whatever they want to believe even if you’re sincere about otherwise,” she explained with a knowing tone. “I’d’ve just said I was with someone and couldn’t be bothered to talk because I was ravishing them until they couldn’t walk.”
Jason’s face went hot, and his stomach felt tight as he looked away. “Oh, uh, I…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “I guess that’s how you play ball, huh?”
(Y/N) chuckled lowly, sending shivers down his spine. “I’d almost forgotten how easy humans flustered.” She shot him a polite smile. “Apologies. I’m used to vampiric vulgarities.”
“Vampires are vulgar? Aren’t vampires supposed to be regal and pretentious?”
She cackled. “Oh, they are,” (Y/N) agreed. “When vampires aren’t attending council meetings or higher functions and are in a small group of trusted companions, they’d act so obscenely it’d put sailors to shame.” She sighed wistfully. “Massive orgies, endless feedings and flowing wine. It’s all so…common.”
“Have you attended many of those…parties?” Jason quizzed and she nodded.
“I did back a very, very long time ago, but I haven’t for some time now. It’s not exactly my thing.”
“But it’s a thing for vampires?” he said, brows furrowing.
(Y/N) met his eyes. “Feeding when copulating is supposed to be an intimate thing. Between two, in private, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, because it’s a binding of blood and bodies. It’s meant to be an exclusive thing not an inclusive one.”
She shook her head. “It’s…hard to explain to someone who isn’t a vampire nor a lover of one.”
“Have you ever done it?”
(Y/N) blinked. “Fed in private?” he nodded, and she tipped her head in agreement. “With other vampires yes, but not humans.”
Jason felt curiosity course through him. “How come? I’d figure if you’re one who enjoys the more private events, why not humans too?”
“Because I stopped consuming human blood before I fell through the portal ten thousand years ago,” she explained. “Even then, the last intimate relationship I ever had with a human was in Scandinavia when the Vikings walked the earth some millennia ago. I haven’t been with another human since he died.”
“Sounds like it’s not a happy subject,” he murmured, and she nodded. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. Mathias didn’t want me to mourn him but to remember him with joy.” (Y/N) rested the brush on her thigh. “Mathias got sick and none of my Restoration magic was healing him nor the rituals his clan were casting. I offered to make him one of my kind. It would’ve saved him, and we would’ve been together, but…” she trailed off and in a moment of compassion, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then inhaled deeply. “He worried that Odin wouldn’t accept him into Valhalla when he met his end. At the same time, he didn’t wish for me to break my vow of never consuming human blood again.” Her lips pulled into a sad smile, lamenting, “I held him when he took his last breath, and then I lit the pyre he laid upon.”
(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor. “I then travelled across the lands for many centuries and to the Americas where I’ve been now.” She smiled. “I have had many human friends over the years and each time it gets easier to let go. You learn the pain is only temporary, but their memories are forever.”
Jason couldn’t think of a thing to say so he simply squeezed her shoulder again and pulled away, resting his hands in his lap. After a moment, he commented, “You’re an extraordinarily strong woman, (Y/N). I don’t think I’d be able to live as long as you could.”
“There’s always something new to discover, Jason. Vampirism is merely an extension of life until you die. Perhaps when this land is but ruins, I’ll travel back to Europe and discover something new?” she smiled, and he felt his heart thump against his ribcage. “The possibilities are endless.”
Before he could say anything, a low growl sounded from the doorway and Jason looked over his shoulder and hissed, “Oh shit.”
(Y/N) snorted and spun on her stool, holding out her hands to the wolfdog in the doorway. “White-Fang! I see you’ve come out of the study for once.”
The hybrid bounded over with heavy footfalls and Jason almost shit himself when it got up close. Because it was bigger than he’d imagined. Bigger, and dark furred, with bright white eyes.
She drew her hand up his hackles. “How’s my big, scary boy doing?” he growled in response, low and gravely, practically glaring at Jason.
“Is he going to eat me?” Jason whispered with mild-fear and he swore that wolfdog laughed at him.
(Y/N) huffed. “No, he’s not going to eat you.” She patted White-Fang’s head. “He’s just teasing.”
“I think he wants to eat me,” Jason retorted when she grabbed his hand and he whimpered as she neared the hybrid’s head. “My hand especially.”
She leveled White-Fang with a glare. “Heel.” The wolfdog immediately sat down and waited, watching carefully as Jason’s hand neared his head, and when it touched, he held for a second then groaned and moved around until Jason’s hand was at his ear.
“He wants you to scratch his ears, Jason,” she murmured, and he did, grinning like an idiot as the hybrids leg started thumping on the ground. “See, he’s not so scary.”
“I bet he is to anyone that tries to hurt you,” he remarked with a smirk and she smiled.
“Oh, he’s ripped a few throats out, certainly.” (Y/N) patted White-Fang’s side. “Alright boy, wanna go outside?”
He was pulling away from Jason’s hand in an instant, twirling in a circle at the door whilst growling for her to hurry.
“Well, go find your harness and you can leave.”
He disappeared and Jason questioned, “Harness?”
(Y/N) nodded. “I make Nevermore go with him so he can keep an eye out for trouble.” She huffed. “Animal control is one thing I don’t need on my plate.”
White-Fang came back with a harness in his mouth and bounded to (Y/N), letting her adjust it. After she was finished, Nevermore cawed, and perched himself atop a little wooden handle on White-Fang’s back, starting to preen himself as the hybrid hurried to the front door.
“Can he open that him—” the front door slammed, and Jason blinked. “I guess that answers that question.”
She giggled and stood to her feet, stretching her arms over her head before asking, “Want something to eat?”
Jason smiled. “Yeah, I could eat.”
***Chapter Four***
It was a constant weekly visit to her home, but Jason almost found himself returning every other day. At first, he thought it was some vampiric seduction she’d put over him, but with every laugh that escaped her lips from the stupid jokes he’d stolen from his older brother, he realized it wasn’t supernatural power that kept him coming back—it was love. He was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. And it only made it harder to see her because he knew with the knowledge of her previous human lover, she wasn’t going to be interested in Jason. But he could hope.
He stowed the black key into his pocket and curled a hand around the doorknob, pushing it open. “(Y/N)!” he called out.
Somewhere in the home, he heard, “In the study!”
God, that was another reason he loved her. She had books galore. First additions of books he’d only ever dreamed of holding, let alone reading. And she’d told him to take whatever he’d wanted.
He couldn’t stop himself from hurrying to the door at the opposite end of the hallway, turning into the study to see her bent over her desk, penning something on letter paper. He smiled at Nevermore who was perched on the bust above her on the wall.
(Y/N) looked up at him and gave a tired smile. She must’ve been about to go to bed from the looks of her wear, a black chemise she was fond of. “Good evening, Jason. How are you doing tonight?”
He put down the takeout bag on one of the loveseats and walked around her desk, leaning back on the edge.
“Well, it looks like I’m doing a lot better than you are,” he remarked, glancing down at her letter. It was full of words he didn’t understand, obviously another language he didn’t recognize, but he caught ‘Vampire’ and ‘Council’ a couple times but there was one word that slightly worried him and that was ‘Lycan’.
She sighed heavily and placed the pen back it its stand and rubbed her temples. “I’ve spent the last eight hours penning letters to and from the council and other confidants in neighboring locations.” (Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose. “There’s a problem in Gotham and I’ve got to understand how it started and fix it before it gets worse.”
Jason eyed her. “Are you talking about the werewolf that’s been running around at night?” he sighed. “I just got off patrol looking for the damned thing.”
“So, you are as well?” she answered lowly, her ember eyes shifting to gaze out the window at the nightly moon reflecting off one of the windows of a skyscraper. “I don’t know how one got into Gotham without my knowledge, but it has.”
She stood suddenly and walked around to her drink stand, pouring a glass of wine; she took a sip. “Now the council is up my ass about Lycan-encroachment on vampiric territory and I still have to contact the nearest werewolf colony to ask if they’ve lost one. I’m sure they’ll tell me to screw off in less nicer ways.”
“Yeah, Bruce isn’t too happy about the thing either,” Jason said, and he could feel his eyes on her as he mumbled, “It’s been killing every night and last night it ripped a family to shreds. Mom and a dad with three kids.”
A glass shattered and he looked over, seeing (Y/N)’s hand clenched tightly, wine glass in shards on the floor, red wine and black blood mixing as it ran down her arm.
“(Y/N),” he exclaimed, moving to her and he saw the crystal tears on her cheeks.
“Fuck,” she hissed harshly. “Nevermore and I have been out every night for the last week, but we can’t find the fucking thing.” Her auburn eyes found his and he saw the wrath within them. “To hell with the werewolf colony and protocol. I’ll rip that moon-born’s spine out with my bare hands.”
Her skin started to turn that pale gray like her second form and Jason gently took her hand, “Calm down, (Y/N).” She gazed at him and before she could say anything, he added, “If my family and I can’t find it, I don’t think you could either.” He gave a tight smile and reached up with his opposite hand, caressing her cheek. “Let’s get your hand cleaned up, yeah?”
She let him guide her to the bathroom where she sat town on the toilet seat, gazing deadly at the wall ahead while he pulled out a black bag, digging around for tweezers. Jason started plucking the glass out of her hand, every so often pausing to check for signs of discomfort in her expression.
When he was finished, he held her hand over the sink and rinsed it before toweling it, and when he pulled the black towel away, her wounds had already resealed themselves. He tossed the towel onto the sink and held her hands, not exactly knowing what to say to her.
“How old were the children?” she questioned calmly, and he sighed.
“Two, ten, and fifteen.”
(Y/N)’s eyes welled with tears again and she dug her black-nailed fingers into her palm, ignoring the pricks of pain. “Goddamn them,” she cursed in a tone frozen as winter. “Damn them to hell. All of their kind.” He watched her quietly as she raged. “Goddamn Lycan colonies allowing their kind to trample all over other kinds’ territories with no regard for the natural or supernatural. This is why I hate werewolves. They’re so inconsiderate and destructive.”
She brought a hand to her eyes, harshly wiping the tears. “Three children taken before their times and no justice to be given.” A sob escaped her. “I’ve allowed myself to become too complacent with your family protecting Gotham that I forgot my duty. Now look what I’ve caus—”
Jason took her hands. “Woah, woah, woah,” he said firmly, digging his thumbs between her fingers and her palms. “(Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That family though—”
“Didn’t die by your hands,” he replied. “You’ve been trying to stop it. You haven’t been negating your duties. You never had the duty of keeping Gotham safe from crime.”
(Y/N) blinked. “What?”
“Your duty has always been to keep vampires in line here, not to stop crime from happening.” He shook his head. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’ve been doing exactly that. There is no complacence on my family.”
She gazed at him for a long moment, then leaned forward; Jason followed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Your words are kind, Jason, but I fear they’re not negating my emotions.”
One of Jason’s hands rose to hold her cheek. “Let me try another way,” he whispered and tilted her face, delicately pressing his lips to hers.
(Y/N) started to pull back. “Jason, I—”
“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Let me help you right now.”
“I need,” she started. “I need more, Jason.”
He nodded. “Whatever you want from me, you can have, doll.”
(Y/N)’s breath shuddered, and she was never one to be held like she was glass. She surged forward and curled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and Jason responded with a noise of shock which she swallowed, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against him.
Suddenly, she pulled back and whatever he was planning on saying died on his lips when she commanded, “Bed. Now.”
Jason couldn’t help the startled laugh as he pulled away, letting himself be shoved backwards out the bathroom door and down the hallway. “Excited, aren’t you?”
She scowled as his back collided with the bedroom door and he lowered a hand trying to open it. “You’ve been walking on eggshells for the last six months, Jason. You want this as much as I do.”
His eyes went wide, and he stopped fumbling for the doorknob. “You—you know?”
(Y/N) pressed up against his body, shoving one of her thighs between his hips and Jason inhaled sharply as she ground herself against him. “Of course, I know,” she purred, tugging the collar of his shirt down. “I can smell your desire every time you come here.”
Jason’s only reply was a groan when she latched onto the skin just above his collarbone, sucking a red welt into it. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other starting back for the doorknob again, but she grabbed it and slammed it beside his head, fingers wrapping around his wrist just shy of painful.
“Blood, you see, Jason, is intoxicating on its own,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his throat, nipping enough that it had his hips canting forward, trying to rub against her thigh. “But the pheromones of desire?” (Y/N) whispered in his ear. “Are even more so,”
And he was helplessly pinned between her and the oak door, as she lowered her free hand and swiftly undid his belt buckle and popped the button of his jeans before she tugged his zipper down just enough to give it slack.
She slid her hand down into the front of pants and cupped him, smirking when he gasped and rolled his hips into her palm. “Divines, I could smell it crawling all over you,” she said. “I could smell those times you’d come over after relieving yourself of the ache.”
“(Y/N),” Jason moaned, and she squeezed him again, eliciting an even deeper moan from his throat.
“Tell me, Jason. How many times?” she asked, and he couldn’t find the words to answer her, starting to pant. “How many since we met have you taken your cock in your hand and pleasured yourself?”
“I—fuck—too many to count,” he gasped and gazed down at her; she was giving him that perfect little smile that made him twitch in her grasp.
(Y/N) shifted her hand and slid it inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length and Jason’s knees almost went out beneath him right there when she started pumping him. “What do you think about when you do?” she smirked. “I know it’s obviously me.” Her ember eyes bored into his as she squeezed him. “Is it my mouth? Or my hand?”
He swallowed thickly, breath hitching as he confessed, “Y-you’re on your back and you’re—”
“I’m already bored, Jason,” (Y/N) cooed. “Missionary is boring.”
A chuckle actually made it from him at that and he whispered, “You didn’t let me finish.”
She laughed, countering, “Good thing I’m going to let you.” He groaned as she swiped her thumb over his tip, pressing down. “Come on, Jason. Give me something I can work with. Give me the most lust-filled scenario you’ve thought about.”
To accentuate her point, she tugged his length roughly and he growled, “I’m fucking you into the bed senseless while your ankles and wrists are bound and you’re screaming yourself hoarse.”
(Y/N)’s lips split with delight and he saw those points again as she pricked her tongue on one and all he wanted to do was suck the black blood pooling on the tip of it. “Am I on my stomach?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “Your ass is up in the air and your—shit—your ankles are tied to your bed posts.”
“Ooo, I’m spread open for you, huh? Afraid I’ll be a bad girl and move before you can tell me too? Or are you afraid I’ll take control and ride you?” she taunted.
Jason’s eyes darkened and he glared down at her. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
(Y/N) grinned evilly and quipped, “Not right now you’re not.” She started pumping him faster and he sucked in a breath as his thighs started to quiver, stomach muscles clenching in anticipation.
“(Y/N),” he warned with a deep grunt, and she placed her thumb underneath his head, massaging there.
“I can smell it, darling,” she whispered, “how close you are.” She pressed her lips to his pulse point, mouthing the skin, flicking her tongue to taste the salt of his sweat. “I want to feel you come apart. Do it, Jason. For me, please, darling.”
“(Y/N) I—I’m gonna—” he choked out and she pressed herself onto his clothed thigh, rubbing and moaning and he could feel how damp she was. It sent him spiraling. “Doll, I’m—fuck I’m—” Jason threw his head back and canted his hips forward, seeing stars as he pulsed in her hand, jaw going slack as he let out a guttural groan. She twisted her wrist and pumped him through it until he was grabbing at her wrist, an overstimulated and shaking mess.
She leaned away from his neck and pulled her hand from his boxers, lifting her fingers to her lips. He watched as her tongue darted out and tasted him and he felt the desire pool low in his gut again as she moaned, swirling her tongue between two of her fingers, collecting the sticky white lines leftover.
Jason grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, pulling her into a searing kiss, groaning at the taste of himself on her tongue. She was strong, but he wrenched his wrist out of her iron tight grip and grabbed the doorknob, shoving the door open. He swallowed her laugh, and she tipped her head back so he had better access.
They stumbled to the bed and his calves hit the edge. Her hands were already pushing his pants down to his knees to the floor and he leaned away from her, pulling his shirt over his head. He smirked when her eyes flared with need and she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. Jason went down easy, and she was crawling over his body, lowering herself to grind on him.
He bit back a groan as he felt himself hardening and slipped his fingers under her thigh length chemise, feeling up her stomach and to her breasts. (Y/N) gasped when his thumbs swiped over her nipples and she arched her back into his touch.
“Like that?” he smirked, and she matched his grin.
“I’d like it a lot better if you pinched ‘em.” He chuckled and did exactly that, moaning when she ground herself harder onto him, her head tipping back slightly.
Jason pulled his hands away and she whined until he grabbed the chemise and lifted above her head and off her body. His eyes widened when he realized she was completely nude underneath and she giggled when he twitched beneath her.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great dick is surprised. Both figuratively andliterally.” (Y/N) placed a hand on his broadly defined chest and bent her knees beside his hips, resting the tops of her feet on his thighs.
He grunted and griped her hips as she raised herself up. “Something tells me you were planning this all night.”
She smiled sweetly and grabbed him, using his head to spread herself. “Did you want me to wait for dinner first?”
Jason’s laugh dissolved quickly as he groaned, “God, you’re so wet, doll.” He could feel her dripping down his length and he fought to keep himself under control and not thrust up into her heat.
“I can’t help it, darling. You do it to me.” She sunk down on him slowly, letting out a moan that hitched when he bottomed out inside her.
(Y/N) took a moment to breathe, letting herself adjust to his size; he was certainly bigger than most and she knew he was thinking it by that smart grin on his lips, though she could tell by the way his chest was heaving that he was straining.
“Tell me, Jason, was this ever a fantasy of yours?” she asked, pulling at his hands until he ran them up her legs, massaging the flesh of her thighs.
“Absolutely,” he panted, and she purred when he pressed his thumb between her legs and rubbed lightly.
“Please tell me you were handcuffed to this bed, darling,” she begged and using her leverage she raised herself off him all the way then sunk back down, grinding her hips against his. “Tell me I was watching you writhe underneath me while I bounced up and down on you.” She moaned. “Oh, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come all over my fingers thinking about riding your cock.”
Jason’s back arched slightly, and he couldn’t help but dig his head into the pillow beneath him. “Fuck, your mouth is so dirty, (Y/N).”
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she countered, then shifted, taking one of his rosy buds in her mouth.
“You’re really tigh—fuckin’ hell,” he cursed when she tugged lightly with her teeth.
(Y/N) laved it over with her tongue and was heading for the second one when he grabbed her chin and yanked her head up, hissing, “Ride me like you mean it or I swear to God, I’ll flip us and fuck you until you’re boneless in this bed.”
“Promises, promises, darling,” she cooed and put both hands on his chest to push herself up. And that was all she said before setting a vicious pace, bouncing up and down, and all Jason could do pinned underneath her was grab her hip and thrust up when she came down.
When he tried to sit up to hold her, she placed one hand in the center of his chest. “Not right now, darling. Later tonight.”
He groaned. “We’re still gonna be busy tonight?”
(Y/N) winked. “All until the early morning hours,” she panted and with her free hand, reached between her legs. She hissed at the added pleasure and then Jason knocked her hand away, replacing it with his fingers and soon she was clenching tighter and tighter around him as he sped up.
“Jason,” she whimpered, the coil in her gut moments away from snapping and he nodded, massaging the flesh of her hip with his free hand.
“I know, doll,” he replied heatedly, swirling his thumb tighter and faster. “Let go. Let me feel you around me.” Jason bypassed her hand this time and sat up, pulling her against his body and he grabbed her chin, growling, “Come for me, (Y/N). Do it. I wanna see you come all over my cock.”
(Y/N) stilled in his lap with a gasp as she shuddered against him, insides fluttering as the ache between her legs pulsed. Jason’s thrusting turned frantic and sloppy and soon he was falling over the edge too, grip like steel on her body as he spilled himself deep inside her with a low groan. He collapsed back onto the mattress, pulling her with him and they lay there, panting and sweating, but satiated and content.
Jason’s fingers skimmed up and down her spine and she nestled against his chest, her long fingernails delicately tracing the scars over his skin.
For a moment, all was calm and quiet, then in the quietest, most painfilled tone she’d ever heard him use, he whispered, “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”
She didn’t want to move herself from his warmth, though she tipped her head up, propping her chin on his chest. “What for?”
He couldn’t look at her. “I—I didn’t want to do this.”
“What?” she breathed and immediately she was pulling away from him, ignoring the separation of their bodies. “If you didn’t want to do this then why would you—”
Jason held her close and lamented, “Mathias. I…I didn’t want to make you think of him.”
(Y/N) gaped at the man beneath her, then she calmed and rested a hand on his cheek, explaining, “Jason, Mathias died thousands of years ago.” She smiled, though he could see the sadness, even as minute as it was. “I lost him, yes, and I mourned him for many decades. But I moved on.” Her thumb swiped over his skin. “You needn’t worry of my affections for Mathias coming in between this. I loved him. Past tense.”
Her eyes flashed with sincerity. “But right now? I love you. Present tense.”
Jason blinked in shock. “You…you love me?” he shook his head when she nodded. “I just thought that you’d want…well you know…”
She laughed. “That I’d just want sex?”
“Yeah…”
“I trust me, I do want that. But,” she began and leaned up, brushing her nose against his. “I want your heart, Jason.”
“Please mean that figuratively and not literally,” he joked, and she rolled her eyes.
“I forgot how much humans could act like asses when they wanted too.”
He let out a ‘hmpf’ and tipped his head up. “You like my ass, thank you very much. It’s perfect and round and perky.”
“I do. And it is. But I think I’ll like it more when I’ve got you shoved face first into the bed and it’s all pretty in the air for me,” she smirked and his eyes went wide, jaw dropping.
“Are you talking about…”
(Y/N) grinned wickedly. “Oh yes, darling. Yes, I am. I’ve got one in the drawer down there if you want to go ahead and start the process.”
Jason swallowed thickly and chuckled nervously, “Maybe we can save that for a later day?”
Giggling, she nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, Jason.”
“Oh, thank God,” he sighed, cracking a smile when she snorted. He looked at her and cupped her cheek. “I love you, (Y/N).”
She smiled wholeheartedly and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I know. And I you.”
***Chapter Five***
Jason learned to not hope for things to stay the way they were in his life. He lived each day knowing it could be his last, a stray bullet or a well-placed knife between two ribs, he didn’t hope to stay alive—he wanted to, but he didn’t hope for it. But when it came to the fifth month of dating her, he hoped things would never change.
It was odd at first, staying over at her home every other night. Mainly because he learned early on that (Y/N)’s vampirism meant she hardly ever needed sleep. An hour, maybe two at the most, and then she was ready to go. Of course, when he’d brought it up, she did mention that the older she got, the less sleep she needed. Something about being as powerful as she was. Apparently, new blooded vampires slept for months on end, whereas the older ones barely slept at all.
He also noticed that with her not-sleeping, she also watched him a lot. It did send shivers up his spine, but not in the bad way. The only reason he knew she did was because he was asleep at one point and being trained to know when there were eyes on him, the hair at the back of his neck kept standing up and when he rolled over and opened his eyes, she offered him a sheepish grin and an apology for staring at him. “You’re really handsome and content when you sleep, darling.” She’d said. “It makes for a perfect inspiration to paint.” Jason learned to relax after that.
But soon, every other night carrying a duffel bag to her place became spending every night and filling a chest of drawers with his pants and undergarments, and the closet with his shirts and jackets. She’d even let him use an armor stand in her basement—she had a basement with weapons and armor and a blacksmithing station that made him squeal like a child when he first saw it—to place one of his extra suits. If it had been anyone else, Jason would’ve said things were moving way too fast, but something about (Y/N) told him that there wasn’t going to be anyone after her—while he wouldn’t be her last love, she was the last he’d ever have.
***
Arms encircled his waist and he hummed as she propped her chin on his bicep, watching as he prepared the vegetables. “What are you making?” she murmured, pressing a kiss just below where his T-shirt sleeve stopped.
He noticed that about (Y/N) too. She was very affectionate, always pressing kisses to where she could reach, or resting her hand or leg on him. He’d never been big on contact since coming back, but there was something so comforting about the chill of her lips and fingertips when she did.
Jason sliced into a carrot. “Beef stir-fry.” He grabbed a long green bean from one of the bowls just off the cutting board and raised it to his arm, smiling when she took it from him.
“Mmm, I’m glad I don’t have to do all the cooking for once,” (Y/N) quipped, as she licked her lips.
“Oh, is that all you’re keeping me around for then? To be your personal chef?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason.” Her eyes twinkled and she pressed herself up against his back, her hands sliding down to his haunches where she squeezed lightly. “I keep you around as a personal bed warmer too.”
He barked a laugh and glanced over at her. “I should’ve seen that coming.” (Y/N) puckered her lips and Jason chuckled. “I did see that one coming though,” he remarked as he pressed his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she giggled.
She pulled away from him and walked to his other side, leaning down on the counter. “Do you want any help?”
“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve got it.” Jason turned his eyes onto her. “Did you get any response from the Lycan colony in Virginia?” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily darkened, and he sighed. “Guess not.”
“They won’t talk to me through unofficial channels,” she answered. “If I actually want to learn what’s been happening, I’ll have to ask the council to call a meeting with the Lycan Alliance.” She rolled her eyes. “Going through the procedure is just bureaucratic bullshit but it���s what’s kept our kinds from all-out war for thousands of years.”
Jason glanced at her. “There some type of truce made like in the movies?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Back when I still worked on the council I—”
“Wait,” he interrupted, disbelief crossing his face. “You sat on the Vampiric Council? But I thought you hated it?”
“Oh no, I don’t hate the council. I loathe it. Entirely,” she corrected. “But I was the one who put forth most of the effort to get the truce into place.”
“Really now?” he wondered, eyes wide with impression. “How’d that come about?”
“Tensions between our species reached a boiling point and we were headed for full annihilation of our species if we couldn’t find peace somehow,” (Y/N) remembered. “I called on the leaders of the Lycan forces and asked for a parlay to negotiate a truce.”
“Did it work out well?” Jason asked. “Can’t imagine werewolves and vampires sitting peacefully in a room together. Sounds like a recipe for complete disaster.”
“In any other case, I’d agree, but you’d be surprised how calm people can get when peace is on the table,” she remarked. “I was the strongest on the council and my word carried the most authority, so myself and my most trusted confidants met with the most authoritative Lycan leaders for an entire month and on the night of the final day, we reached an agreement.”
“You weren’t worried you’d be outvoted by anyone?”
(Y/N) grinned, showing her pointed canines. “Oh no, darling. Me and the others made enough to outvote their opposition. But I digress, the agreement stated that all forces were to cease fighting when the sun rose on the first day of the new month and return to their respective colony or coven immediately. Our leaders would designate territories for both species and the other wasn’t allowed to enter unless given express consent.”
Her ember eyes followed the knife he wielded. “If a vampire killed a werewolf, the offended party was given custody of the perpetrator to do with as they wished and vice versa. Any crime against another was to be investigated and handled by elite members of the species, and punishment only carried out when acknowledged and allowed by the Council or Alliance.”
She sighed. “It took an entire month to draw out the truce and even longer to enforce it to the point that we could all take a breath and not dread war. But it worked, and we’ve had relative peace for a few millennia.”
Jason scraped the chopped carrots into a bowl. “How are your territories designated?”
(Y/N) hummed. “Fairly easily actually. Werewolves prefer warmer climates and vampires prefer cooler ones, so southern states and countries were typically handed over to the Lycan Alliance while the Vampiric Council took control of the north.”
He snorted. “So, what, the closer I get to the equator, the more werewolves I’ll find?”
“Pretty much.” She smiled. “Most northern and eastern states here in the U.S. are vampire-controlled territory. The south and Midwest are typically werewolf territory.” (Y/N) tipped her head side to side. “That being said, there are some cases in which Lycan colonies will reside in vampire control and the other way around too.”
“What cases are those?” he questioned, quickly chopping some tomatoes.
“On average, most native tribes are werewolf packs, though there are some tribes that are vampiric. The Mohawk tribe has been known to have a few of my kind here and there.” She reached over and plucked a cherry tomato from another bowl. “Since some native tribes still reside on their original lands, we share the territory with them.”
“Oh, so like in Twilight?”
“Yes, but also no, and please don’t ever mention that abomination again,” she scowled, and he chuckled.
“Yes ma’am.” Jason smiled, then seeming to think about something, his hands stilled.
(Y/N) caught it instantly. “Is something wrong?”
“Can I ask you something personal?” he questioned, gazing at her seriously and she nodded.
“Of course. Ask me anything.”
He inhaled deeply. “How’d you become a vampire? And why?”
She blinked, evidently not expecting that one, but she recovered and pulled his arm, tugging him away from the counter. They wandered into the living room and Jason collapsed onto one end of the loveseat, (Y/N) at the other. Resting her feet in his lap, she smiled when he started massaging them.
“This was back when I was still in my dimension and human, but vampires had become bolder and started attacking cities. They were looking for something, but no one knew what it was. All we knew was that there were attacks night after night and no sign of it ending.”
Her head tipped back onto the arm. “I was approached by a vampire hunter who wanted me to join the Dawnguard, an order of vampire hunters who were looking into the growing threat. I agreed and met up at the fort where the leader, a man named Isran, told me to go to a location called Dimhollow Crypt and investigate why the vampires seemed particularly interested in the tomb.”
Jason dug his thumbs into the bottoms of her feet. “What did you find?”
“A bunch of dead Vigilants of Stendarr and a whole lotta vampires,” she deadpanned, and his brows furrowed.
“What’re Vigilants of Stendarr?”
“Holy hunters of the Divine God Stendarr,” (Y/N) answered. “They root out evil and daedra where they find it.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “A bunch of pretentious assholes if you ask me.”
Shaking her head, she continued, “So I snuck through the crypt and eventually found this…pillar with a bunch of unlit braziers around it. My dumbass put my hand on the pillar and got impaled by a spike, but my blood broke whatever magic seal and lit the braziers.” She took a breath. “After I got slid them in order, the floor moved, and an ancient sarcophagus was revealed.”
“And you found a mummy?” he quizzed with a grin.
“Actually, I found a vampire,” (Y/N) retorted with a smirk. “And Divines know how long Serana had been down there, but I helped her out of the crypt and back to her home off the coast of one of the capital. There, I met her father, the leader of the coven, Lord Harkon. He wanted to repay me for returning Serana, so he offered his blood—the chance to become a Vampire Lord like him.”
Jason rubbed her ankles. “What made you accept?”
She glanced at him. “He did show me the form of the Vampire Lord and…I was a greedy, power-hungry young woman then,” she admitted somewhat shamefully. “The thought of being able to bend humans into submission by swaying minds and having all that power… spoke to something dark inside me.”
(Y/N) cleared her throat. “I accepted, though it didn’t take long for my heart to change. I got less concerned with power and more concerned with security and ensuring our kind in the castle were safe.”
His hands stopped moving and she looked at him. “What is it?”
“You said you were greedy and power-hungry, but the woman before me hates any form of control, especially the Council.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “If you were as cruel and dark as you said, what changed you mind?” He seemed to remember something. “Did it have to do with your refusal to consume human blood?”
She bared her teeth in a growl, though it was more herself than him. “Divines, I forgot how fast you pick things apart.” (Y/N) sighed heavily and looked away. “…Harkon used to have humans in a dungeon beneath the castle. He called them…cattle. At first, I didn’t mind, but the thing about feeding is that you receive human emotions and memories.”
Her eyes got a faraway look. “It got to the point where I couldn’t bear feeding on them because all I could feel was their despair and agony.” She could feel his hands squeezing her heels. “I went to see an old friend and relayed my problems and he reminded me of something he’d told me a few years before…”
“What did he say?” Jason murmured and (Y/N) turned her attention back to him.
“He said, ‘I once told you when you came to question my death, What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?’ I feel as though now it is your time to look inside and choose.” she paused. “I swore an oath there that I would never again consume the blood of a human. I would overcome my desires and nature and I would do it every day as long as I breathed.”
(Y/N) stared at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of what he told me. I repeat the mantra every day. I live by it.”
Jason merely gazed at her for a moment, then he offered her a small smile. “You’re a strong woman, doll. Stronger than anyone I know.”
She huffed a laugh. “Thank you, Jason, though my strength is nothing compared to some of those heroes on the news.”
He chuckled and shifted her legs apart as he moved up her body. Jason rested comfortably atop her and she threaded on of her hands in his silky hair, scratching her long nails against his scalp.
“Nah, you’re the strongest of them all,” he said, pecking her forehead.
(Y/N) smiled widely. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Jason replied, leaning down to kiss her lips, and a shrill ringtone made them both jump. He gave a flustered laugh and reached down his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. “Sorry, thought I had it on silent.”
She giggled. “It’s quite alright, Jason.”
He grinned at her and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
Even if she weren’t next to the phone, she could still hear the conversation, her hearing was exceptional even amongst her species.
Jason! Finally! I’ve been calling you like all day!
Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I wasn’t answering.”
“Who is it?” she mouthed.
“Dick,” he replied.
What was that?
“Nothing, I was just—”
OH MY GOD! ARE YOU WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?
“No, Dickhead, I’m not.”
IT’S THE GIRLFRIEND, ISN’T IT, LITTLE-WING!
“Little-wing?” (Y/N) snorted and Jason pinched her hip.
“What do you want, Dick?”
Well, now that I know you’re with your girlfriend, can I talk to her?
“No,” Jason scowled, and she held out her hand with that look and he sighed. “Fine, here she is.”
(Y/N) smiled as she heard Dick squeal on the other end. “Hello? Dick?”
Yes! Hi! That’s me! Little-wing’s older brother!
“I know you are,” she replied. “I’m (Y/N), Jason’s girlfriend.”
See, we knew he had one. He’s always rushing around the manor like he’s late for dinner.
She smirked and cocked a brow, looking straight at Jason. “Oh, he is, is he?”
“What’s he saying?” Jason asked and she quickly brought one of her legs up and pushed against his chest, shoving him back to the other side so he couldn’t grab the phone.
“Tell me, does he ever talk about me?”
Oh, never. See he’s super tight lipped.
“Jason doesn’t talk about me?” (Y/N) pouted. “Jay, darling, I’m hurt.”
He tried shoving her leg out of the way, but she didn’t budge. “(Y/N), gimme the phone.”
I know the best way to remedy that, (Y/N)! You should come over to the manor tonight for dinner and we can absolutely humiliate him for you!
Her lips split evilly. “Tonight, for dinner? And here Jason was making some of his famous beef stir fry for me.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I guess there’s always tomorrow.”
So, you’ll come?
“We’ll be there,” she quipped, winking at a scowling Jason.
Oh my god! GUYS, JASON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT! OH, CRAP ALFRED, WE’RE HAVING A DIN—
Jason yanked the phone from her and hit end call, then leveled her with the darkest glare she’d seen him give—and she loved every second of it, smirking right back. “Why would you do that?” he questioned lowly, and she raised her foot, toeing the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” she replied innocently.
Jason grunted low in his throat and grabbed her foot, sliding his hand up her leg. He got to her upper thigh and curled his hand underneath her, bending her knee up to lay across the back of the couch. Her other leg, practically on its own accord, shifted outwards, allowing him space to lay between her hips and (Y/N) couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he peered up at her, teal eyes narrowed and searching for something in her expression.
“Now we have to go suffer through dinner with my family, (Y/N),” he murmured, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh where her shorts had ridden up.
“It’s only for a few hours,” she huffed, ignoring the urge to thread her fingers in his hair and tug him closer where she wanted him. Jason groaned against her thigh and she shivered as the vibrations sparked deep beneath her skin. She whined lowly and he shifted to her other thigh, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. (Y/N) cursed as he sucked a bruise into her skin, laving the sting with his tongue before dragging it closer to her center.
“Jason,” she gasped, feeling his fingers starting to slide under her shorts, and then he was pulling away, from her body and from the loveseat to stand before her. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do as she stared up at the rather smug looking Jason, one leg cocked up over the couch, the other haphazardly resting on the floor.
“Knowing Alfred, he’ll want us there by six, so we should get ready to go,” he stated before sauntering off towards the bathroom.
She lay there for a moment, heart beating wildly in her chest, then the annoyance flashed across her face and she shouted angrily, but more flustered than anything, “You are such a teasing bastard!” All she heard was a bark of laughter.
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