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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years

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Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

#all bets are off #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dom!spencer

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delirioushrimp · 3 years

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Salvation is found in pain(ful pleasures) [Your Boyfriend AU]

Once more, I truly have no self control when it comes to @harbingers-appointed and his boys. Be happy Flauros, you finally get to steal the show from the King.

Hope you’ll like it Vee !

How many ? How many times did he kill you since the beginning of this twisted game ? How many times did you come back to him asking, craving, and begging for the punishment he was always so eager to bestow you ?

He cut your throat, watched you drown, let you bleed out, broke every bone in your body so many times you wonder how he hasn’t grown tired out of you yet. After all, no matter how satisfying and amusing it must be to kill a person -one yearning for death so ardently- over and over again, one has to get bored of seeing the same face dying by their hands, right ? You’re just a toy to him, an interesting one -maybe-, but a toy, nonetheless.

You’re not stupid enough to believe he genuinely likes you.

Still, you always come back to him, knowing he’s the only one able to give you what you want, what you deserve. You hate it when he does it in the front of the King though, because watching the pain and self-hatred in those gorgeous blue eyes as your life fades away to hysterical cackles, truly breaks your soul. He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to suffer so horribly when all he’s done is love you earnestly and wholeheartedly, and most of all he doesn’t deserve loving someone as broken and ruined like you. You curse God for doing this to him, knowing you’ll never be able to return his feelings because you’re not worthy of his love. You’re not worthy of anything but pain.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair !

Lately though, you’re starting to notice a few changes in him. His knife lingers longer than it should, leaving shallow cuts on your skin before piercing you to the bone. His eyes which were usually narrowed in sadistic glee appear distracted, deep in thought as he observes your dying body. It’s strange, you’d never thought you’d get to see him so pensive; he always appears so confident, happy go lucky and in control of everything.

At first, you think it’s because he’s finally growing annoyed of your presence and constant pestering for pain. Maybe he found another, newer and more amusing toy to distract himself with. You would understand if that was the case, it was a wonder he actually “played” with you for that long. But that means you needed to find someone or something able to give you what you sought.

The next time you wake up after another of your “play sessions”, you don’t go to him. Instead, you ignore everyone and everything as you try to come up with a new alternative to your lack of executioner. You manage to evade Samael without much trouble, knowing the castle like the back of your hand after how many times you died there. You’re terrified of gazing into his eyes, terrified to see the absolute grief and agony in them.

You roam around the halls for a while before you manage to find a good enough hiding spot, a small balcony, away from prying eyes. You sit there for who knows how long, time perception long lost ever since the start of this never-ending game. What would happen now ? With nobody else willing to waste their time on you, what are you supposed to do ? Kill yourself over and over again until God decided to take pity on you and finally send your soul to where it belongs ? You remember the bastard’s words after the eighteenth time he cut you open, looking at you with that all-knowing smile.

“His Highness is the only who can end your misery. You could always ask him but- ah” he tilts his head to watch your life spilling away into a red river. “I doubt he’ll agree to it,” he ends with a dark chuckle. “But hey, no harm in trying, right ?”

He’d wanted you to do it, only because he knew of how much pain and agony your words would induce to the King. You had doubted his words, -you always did- fully aware that if he had lied to you, you’d have made Samael suffer for nothing. And you couldn’t, wouldn’t be able to bear the thought.

So you hesitated, waited for a miracle to happen, for the sadist to admit he was fucking with you, anything so you wouldn’t have to take the risk, like the coward that you are. And of course, he noticed, relishing in your growing paranoia and dread. God ignored your pleas once more, and you began to understand why Samael rebelled. You’ve never been a fervent believer after all.

God is not a benevolent being , merely the leading puppeteer of this world.

You gave in after seven more deaths, despair finally overtaking over fear, and went to find the King. It felt disgusting, seeing him smiling so earnestly at your mere presence when you only came to use him for your own, selfish and self-destructive wish. You felt it to your core, invading your soul, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You wish he hadn’t knelt before you with such devotion, you wish he hadn’t kissed each of your trembling fingers so tenderly, you wish he hadn’t whispered your name so fervently. The words that left your mouth on that day felt like the vilest of poisons.

“You…would do anything for me, right ?”

“Anything !” you flinched at the desperate, borderline hysterical tone of his voice. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you !”

You wondered briefly if watching you die so many times is what caused him to say those words, clinging to your body so pitifully, or if his adoration truly ran that deep from the start. You wished to never have an answer because whatever of the two it’d be, it would only make you more guilty.

“So…” your lips were dry. You felt your sins crawling on your back. “Kill me. Kill me please.”

The gut-wrenching look of pure horror which crossed his face told you two things; it told you your executioner had not lied to you, and it told you that no matter what you did, Samael would never be able to grant you your only wish. You knew that no matter how much you tried to hurt, destroy or even hate him- something you never believed to be possible- he could never bring himself to end your suffering. And you could not blame or despise him for that, he had waited so long for you and the only thing you gave him was pain and torment.

You deserve this, you deserve this punishment.

“Are you done moping around ?” you hear that familiar, bone-chilling voice calls for you.

You don’t even turn around to face him but knows what awaits you if you refuse to answer his question, as rhetorical as it may seem.

“I’m not mopping around,” you flatly say. “Just here to think.”

You hear him take a step closer, but don’t flinch or try to move away while he stands right behind you, and you wonder how long it’s been since you got used to this.

“Really ?” he asks a bit more cheerfully. “So, you’re not avoiding me ?”

You frown and remain silent for longer than you should as you try to find the meaning behind his words. He doesn’t seem to mind though as if he was waiting for your half-baked excuse.

“Avoid you ?” you retort back in a slightly sarcastic tone. “What are you even saying ? I know you’ll always be able to find me.”

He hums in agreement, taking no offense of the fact you still refuse to look at him, instead you think he is pleased by your admission.

“You don’t seem very happy to see me though.” He almost sounds hurt at the idea and maybe you would have bought it if it was one of your first interactions. “Did I do something to upset you sweetheart ?” The innocence in his voice is sickening.

You never bought the cute pet names or the honeyed words of concern though. You recall how you cringed the first time he used them on you, which was strange. You had never met him, and yet somehow, you’d been able to tell this behavior was not natural to him. He was attractive -at least to your standards- , his voice was rich and smooth, and his gaze had been solely focused on you; you should have enjoyed the attention from such a charming being, or at least, feel mildly flattered. But instead, your mind and body recognized the eager executioner that he was. Maybe it was because you refused to believe someone could have a genuine interest in you, or maybe it was because you’d unconsciously compared him to the King. Whatever it was, you never fell for it, and you never will.

“No,” you answer in a detached tone of voice. “I’m just staying out of your way.”

You’re not sure if he is confused, amused or irritated by your words but it feels like you’re suffocating. You’re used to the mockeries, twisted chuckles and fake flatteries but this silence, it’s not normal.

When were things ever normal here ?

You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips when you feel a hand grabing you by the hips and a cold breath tickling your neck. You easily guess the smile against your skin, and it takes everything in your power to repress yourself from kicking him in the ribs. You’re not afraid of the pain that might follow after that, but the other types of punishments he must have in mind.

“You think I don’t want to play with you anymore ?” His voice drops by a few octaves, sending vibrations across your skin. You still manage a small nod, voice stuck in your throat. “Aw…how sad. I must have done a terrible job lately, haven’t I ?”

“It’s just-“ You don’t like how your voice waver at his freezing touch. “You seem distracted and well…bored.” You hear him whisper a small oh ? against your flesh. “I thought you got tired of killing me.”

You realize how fucked up this sounds, and a sense of relief washes over you because it means you still haven’t completely lost it. But the moment is short lived when you feel him chuckle darkly, sending goosebumps along your skins. You really, really don’t like this.

“How awfully observant of you dear.” You feel his teeth graze the juncture of your neck, but you don’t move an inch, instead wondering if he intends to cut your jugular with his sharp incises. He’s never done that before, at least from what you can remember. “But don’t worry, I’m not bored of our little game…yet.”

You believe him for once, it would be rather strange for him to come here if he didn’t want to spend time with you anymore. But his voice, the way he stands so uncomfortably close, tell you he wants to change the rules and you’re almost sure he’s happy you noticed the changes. In fact, all of this might have been part of his plan, for you to notice the little hints he dropped during your last sessions and break from the usual pattern the both of you had created since the first day.

He’s always five steps ahead of everyone after all.

You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that no matter how this conversation will end, you won’t like what will come out of it. But it’s too late to turn back now, not when he’s literally clinging to you like some damn leech.

“What do you want ?” you curtly demand.

“Ah, don’t be like that sweetheart,” he whines to you, but you can feel his smile growing wider. “I just want you to enjoy this as much as I do.”

What the fuck is he saying now ? Maybe you should just kick him after all, then jump and, if you’re lucky enough, break your neck against the cold pavement below, if not you’ll just break every bone in your body and wait until you respawn like some videogame character. It’s nothing you haven’t experienced before, though the demon freak is more into using his knife -you think it’s always the same- than his own hands on you.

“We both know you’re not getting out if this cycle, not for a very long while at least…” he trails off, as if you had somehow forgotten why you were here in the first place, as if you weren’t living with the constant reminder that you couldn’t die. Is he trying to make you cry or something ? “And well…I know you’re not getting off of the pain, you’re not that kind of freak.”

“Just get on with it, the floor below us is starting to become more interesting than you,” you grit between your teeth as you take a step towards the edge for emphasis. He lazily takes another step as well, completely unbothered by the situation. He must know you’re not joking.

“Don’t interrupt me, that’s very rude,” he scolds you, like a parent trying to reason with their unruly child -the idea both amuses and creeps you out- but you don’t miss the cold authority behind it. The warning is clear. “Like I said, you’re not getting anything out of this and I’m starting to feel like the bad guy here.”

You take another step forward and grip the stone railing as tightly as you can as a sign for him to hurry but also to keep yourself from sending your fist in his face or his stomach. Can’t he just break your neck or bleed you dry ? Starting to feel like the bad guy ? Well, he’d fit the role if this was a classic fairytale, although as sweet and devoted Samael was to you, he would not make for a very good prince charming -or a very twisted one- while you’re all too aware of how terrible of a damsel in distress you’d be. One could almost say the purple freak is the only one playing his part right.

“Don’t you think you deserve some award for going this far ?”

Your eyes narrow. Why does he speak as if you had a choice in this ? Why does he speak as though there is anything to be celebrated expect for you to have fallen as low as only finding some sense of peace in dying brutally to the hands a psychopath ? Is this what he wants to reward you for ? Does he really think you’ll agree to it ? You refuse to believe it.

“Ah you’re right, that was a poor choice of words,” he admits in a childlike voice as if he’d heard your thoughts, but it’s not the first time he'd done that. “Rather, I think you’d enjoy our playdates much more if you indulged yourself a bit…” His voice grows huskier as the hand holding your hips moves lower and lower, somewhere he’s never been. “I promise to make it feel so good you’ll forget your own name…” he whispers sensually to your ear before his tone suddenly shifts to sadistic glee. “And then…I’ll watch that beautiful blissful expression of yours turn to absolute agony !”

His revelation turns your body to stone as you attempt to process what he just suggested. This can’t be real. All of this just because he wanted to fuck you ? No, it was not just about sex -not when he could do so much better than you-, this was about the additional control he’d have over you. He’d already gained ownership over you once he became the only one able to give you pain, and by becoming the only one able to give you pleasure, he’d have complete control of your strings.

“I’m not interested, get off of me,” you try to sound calm, much calmer than the inner chaos that your mind is right now.

“Really ?” How could a word carry so much darkness ?

Before you can react, you feel a hand grabbing your hair in a tight grip then violently yanking you aside, in a soundless cry till you’re forced to look at him. You close your eyes on instinct, refusing to submit to his gaze. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, instead focusing on the sensation of his cold face against your own.

“I have to admit, it’s been a while since I found someone so pathetic and hopeless. Kinda reminds me of…” he ponders while you try keep your breathing steady. “Oh no I shouldn’t speak of him when he isn’t here,” he seems to mumble to himself. “But really, you have nothing to lose here, cutie,” he finishes in a sing-song voice.

“You’re only doing this to hurt the King,” you finally manage to breath in a cracked voice.

“And what of it ?” he says in a surprisingly flat tone, which causes you to stop struggling. “You’ve only hurt him since you arrived here.”

You don’t want to hear it, not from him.

“You ignored him, didn’t even try to spare his feelings or spend time with him because you were too engrossed in the only thing that mattered to you .”

How dare he lecture you about feelings ? Him, out of everyone you’ve met ?

“And when you asked him to kill you ? Oh, that was beautiful !” He laughs heartfully. “Trying to use his own words against him so shamelessly…I’ll remember this for a while haha !”

“Stop…” you whisper weakly.

“Stop fooling yourself Darling, you’ve never cared for him,” voice full of poison slipping into your already sick mind. “Maybe you actually like to see him so miserable.”

“ That’s not true !” you cry out. “I never wanted him to suffer because of me !”

But have you ever done anything to prove it ?

“I never-“ you struggle to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t-“

“Didn’t even give him a chance, went straight to me instead. How fucked up is that huh ?”

You’re trembling, trembling from the truth of his words, trembling from the coldness of his body, trembling from realizing you’re the villain of this story.

“After all,” he murmurs right into your soul, “monsters recognize each other, isn’t that how the saying goes ?”

He lets go of you, and you crumble. You barely register your body falling to the ground as you feel your nails dig into your skin. He sighs.

“Come on sweetheart, you know I’m the only one who can make you feel better. It’s only going to get better from now on. “We’re gonna have so much fun you and I =)”

[ACCEPT HIS OFFER] [RUN AWAY] [JUMP OVER THE EDGE]

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

Okay, so there are three endings to this fic, I intend to do them all but I’m really interested in which one you’d like to read first. I’ll regulary check to see what people want during the next few days.

Pick your poison :)

#your boyfriend #your boyfriend au #flauros #reader insert #there is no fluff #only pain #no comfort #MC is really fucked up in this one #should i add more tags

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shinsouskitten · 4 years

Note

Heyo! This is my first time requesting so I hope this isn't a bad request. So lately I've been watching these TikTok compilations of people getting naked infront of their bf/gf on YT and I just had this AMAZING idea. How would Shoto, Shinso, Kaminari, Bakugo, and Hawks react to their s/o doing that? (I also heard you're a Yagami Yato fan!!! Yay!)

Honestly I’ve been dying to do some tiktok pranks, but I didn’t know if anyone would actually enjoy them, so your request certainly isn’t a bad one. I kinda did a mix of the towel dropping trend and straight up stripping cause I wanted to do a bit of both so I hope that’s okay

And yeah, I’m a huge Yagami fan. I really want to get her patreon but I’m a broke bitch 😣

I’m so happy I was able to finish this in time to post it today

Anyway… Time to get naked!

All characters are aged up (except Hawks)

Warnings: suggestive themes, implied nudity (does it count as implied or is it just straight up nakedness?), Bakugou

---

❄️🔥 Shōto Todoroki:

The two of you sat on the sofa, your phones held in your hands as you navigated through app after app to find something to do. You saw a tiktok pop up on your page, of someone recording their partner’s reaction to the stripping, and Shōto’s current aimless scrolling made it the perfect situation.

You took your phone, resting it against a glass on the coffee table in front of you as nonchalantly as possible. You set the timer to record, turning off the volume so Shōto wouldn’t hear it, before beginning to take your shirt off.

When he didn’t turn you sighed, standing up to take off your pants to hopefully gauge a better reaction. This time he turned his head slightly, his eyes taking a quick glance over your body before returning to look at your face.

“Oh hi y/n.” He said, turning back to his phone.

“Shōto.” You whined, ending the recording on your phone. “You’re meant to react more.”

He turned to look at you again, a small smile on his face. “Sorry, baby.”

You sighed, placing your phone face down on the coffee table before flopping down on the sofa, your head falling in his lap as you stared up at him. He leant forward to put his phone next to yours, before twirling a hand in your hair softly.

“I’ve seen you naked before.” He said simply.

You rolled your eyes. He could say those kinds of things with such a monotone expression, but you still found yourself flushing each time he did so.

“Yeah but it was for tiktok.” You frowned.

Shōto smiled softly. “We can try again if you want.”

“Is this your way of saying you want me to strip for you?” You asked with a laugh.

“Perhaps.” He replied, and you felt yourself smiling as he stared down at you.

He might be a bit clueless, but he’s still cute.

---

💜 Hitoshi Shinsou:

Just one more game. That’s what he’d said two hours ago. You’d lost track of the amount of rounds he’d been playing, but by now your eyes were tired of the blue light illuminating your bedroom. You knew how difficult it was to convince Shinsou to go to sleep, but it was practically impossible when Kaminari messaged him asking to play some games online with him.

You would both be tired and grumpy in the morning, so you decided to try and convince Shinsou another way.

As he stared at the screen, you grabbed your phone from beside your bed, placing it in front of you as you called out to Shinsou. He turned for a moment, but his attention was quickly drawn back to the tv as Kaminari’s voice flooded the speakers.

“C’mon man I wanna win for once.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to elevate your persuasion. You waited until the round he had been playing ended, pressing record as the next one began to load. Calling for him again, he turned, and you began to slowly peel your shirt (well, it was technically his shirt) up your body. When it passed your head you tossed it to the side.

Shinsou smiled, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your torso, now naked before his eyes.

“Hey Kami.” He said, eyes never leaving yours. “You’re gonna have to play the next game on your own.”

“Is it y/n again? I wanted to wi-”

You chuckled as he ended the call, turning off his console before strolling to join you on your bed. You picked up your phone before he got to you, ending the recording and placing it back on your bedside table.

“Was that for Tiktok?” He asked.

You nodded silently.

“Of course it was.” He chuckled.

You pouted. “I was tired of you playing.”

“Well unfortunately I’ve got some more to play.”

You frowned, thinking he was going to return to his games again, until Shinsou leant closer, cupping your face with one hand while the other began to trail down your chest.

I guess there’s more than one way to get him to sleep.

---

⚡ Denki Kaminari:

To be honest, Denki’s probably done the exact same prank on you (Denki is a tiktoker change my mind).

You were determined to get him back. And Lady Luck had decided to shine on you today, because you had the perfect opportunity. He was playing a game, headphones blocking his ears from you as he spoke with the rest of the Bakusquad.

You tapped his shoulder to tell him you were going to take a quick shower. He turned to look at you for a moment, opening his mouth as if to speak, before his attention was pulled back to the game at Bakugou’s insistent yells of ‘pay attention you damn extra’.

After your shower, you wrapped your towel around your body loosely, one hand gripping the fabric while the other grabbed your phone to begin recording. You slipped back into the room, mildly annoyed when Denki didn’t even turn to greet you. You let your towel fall away, before tossing it across to land on Denki’s head.

He pulled the towel from his head and threw it to the ground, throwing you a quick frown before he turned back to the tv. Mere seconds after he faced the screen he turned to look at you again, eyes widening as he took in your naked figure with a bright smile.

You heard a yell from his headset, presuming it was Bakugou when the screen flashed game over in bright red letters.

“I gotta go.” Denki said into the mic.

You laughed, stopping the recording as he stood up to walk over to you.

“I was wondering when you’d get me back.” He smiled, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your head. “But you know, it’d be a shame to waste this opportunity.”

“Do you think about anything other than sex?” You chuckled.

“Of course.” He replied. “I think about you. But how can you blame me with this beautiful sight.”

You smiled, tossing your phone to the side as you wrapped your arms around Denki’s shoulders.

“You’re not saying it’s a bad idea.” He said, raising an eyebrow at your silence. “That clearly means you think it’s a great one.”

You rolled your eyes, but leant forward to kiss him.

“It’s an okay idea.” You murmured against his lips.

You yelped as he pinched your hip, opening your mouth to scold him, but your words failed you as his hands began to trail to where you wanted them most.

“Just okay?” He asked.

You nodded, head falling against his neck as he continued to trail his fingers across your skin.

A great ending to a great prank.

---

💥 Katsuki Bakugou:

You sighed in your bed, blankets wrapped around you as you waited for your boyfriend to come home. He’d been swarmed with work recently, so you hadn’t seen as much of him as you would’ve liked.

When you heard the click of your door, you jumped up, racing through your apartment to see Bakugou taking off his shoes with a sour expression.

“Hey.” You smiled, walking over to drape your arms around his shoulders.

He grunted in response, brushing your arms off as he plopped down on the sofa. He lay his head back, eyes falling shut as he muttered something about stupid villains thinking they own the place.

As you watched him the idea came into your mind. You felt in your pockets for your phone, relieved to find it there. Careful not to disturb your boyfriend, you placed it so only Bakugou would be seen by the camera. As you pressed record, you cleared your throat, annoyed when he didn’t even react.

With a sigh you pulled your shirt over your head, throwing it across the room where it landed in Bakugou’s lap. His eyes shot open, noticing the clothing in front of him, before his head snapped to look at you.

“Oi dumbass what are you doing?!” He shouted, but you could see the blush spreading across his face.

“Something wrong?” You asked innocently.

Bakugou let out a low growl, before his gaze fell to the phone propped up next to you.

“Is this for tiktok?!” He screamed, leaping towards you to rip the phone away before you could stop him.

You pouted as he glared down at the screen, ending the recording and tossing your phone to the other end of the room.

“If you’ve broke that-” You began, but you were interrupted by a finger on your lips.

“You shouldn’t be worried about the phone.” Bakugou said, red eyes boring into yours.

Your mouth fell open in a silent ‘o’ as his hands slipped around your waist, letting out a scream as he threw you over his shoulder.

Suffice to say your phone wasn’t the only thing he broke that night.

---

🍗 Keigo Takami (Hawks):

There was something droning on in the background, some boring show you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to. Instead, your attention was fixed on your boyfriend, who was laying back on your sofa, wings splayed out behind him as one arm sat curled around your waist.

Coming up with an idea, you excused yourself from his grip, and his head turned to look at you as you propped your phone up to face him.

He raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes following your every movement as you began to peel off each layer of your clothes. By the time you were in your underwear, Keigo had grown impatient, and he stood up, appearing next to you within seconds.

“Well hello there.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, holding up a finger to press pause on the scene as you retrieved your phone, checking that you hadn't been visible on the screen. When you were satisfied, you placed it down again, this time ensuring it wasn’t recording, before turning back to Keigo.

“You know if you were into recording stuff you could’ve just said so.” He said, his eyes still not leaving your body.

You laughed again, but leant forward to press a kiss to his lips, your hands tangling in his hair as he returned the affection. His hands trailed across your body, at one point stopping to pinch your hip. Keigo used your shock as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth, and his grip tightened on your waist.

You groaned as he pulled away, but your breath caught in your throat as you felt his hand slip in between your thighs.

Maybe you should prank him more often.

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thesnowinthemountains · 4 years

Text

NCT 127’s First Time Saying I Love You

(a/n: 1. i wrote a good half of these drunk, so apologies for the excessive fluff 2. i didnt know i was whipped for mark until i wrote that okay im sorry 3. i nearly threw my laptop out the window trying to post this please love it)

Taeil

You were sitting across from each other at the small dinner table in your apartment’s kitchen - the only one you could afford for the time being. There was barely enough space for two plates and glasses, but neither of you seemed to mind the proximity, and Taeil kept staring at you, which distracted you anyway. “What is it?” You asked for the millionth time. “Nothing, nothing,” he replied calmly, going back to his food, but just pushing it around his plate. Not a minute passed before he did it again. You swallowed a bite of food, sighed, and calmly put your fork down. “Taeil, what?” You asked, sharper this time. He smiled to himself and took a second before looking at you. “Your eyes are a really nice color.” He said, failing to hide a mocking smile. You frowned. “Why are you laughing?” You were just confused at this point. “I don’t know how to do this, just-” he breathed, gathering himself. “I love you.” Now you blushed, looking down. “I love you too,” you mumbled.

Johnny

You came home from a long day of work, swearing to yourself you were going to quit. You needed to, your current job was starting to get to your head and affect your moods. You slammed the door on your way in, tossed your bag aside and launched yourself into the couch. You let out a long groan and a few seconds later, Johnny’s voice came from the hallway. “Long day?” he laughed, settling himself in the space next to you so you could lay your head in his lap. “God, you have no idea,” you sighed. You sat together quietly for a while, him playing with your hair until you were almost asleep in his lap. He let out a pensive hum. “What?” You murmured, eyes closed. “I love you,” he said simply, like it was a fact he just read online. “You just made my day,” you laughed softly.

Taeyong

You couldn’t remember what you had said, but he had smiled, his eyes bright, and you just knew. It was easy. He was so easy to fall in love with, easy to be around, your whole relationship was easy and fun. You were in a perfect space. He got excited about ducklings, and made little noises to himself when he cooked. He cooked. He liked big sweaters, and you liked borrowing them; they smelled like him. You liked to sleep in his bed, too, liked waking up surrounded with everything that was him and about him. It was a little while later and you couldn’t hold it in any longer, afraid your heart might just burst if you did. “I love you,” you said it heavily, like it had been weighing on you and just the mere action of putting it out into the world would heal you of all your ailments. “I love you too,” he smiled over the pot on the stove in front of him. You revelled in the domesticity of it, ready to pause this moment and never let it go.

Yuta

You and Yuta had met through mutual friends, ones he played soccer with, and ones you were in various classes with. You were at a study group with them one evening, going over notes from the past week’s classes, trying to gather information for an upcoming midterm essay you were dreading. One of their phones rang. “Hey, Yuta, what’s up?” You didn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, but your ears perked up on their own. “Study group. Yeah, she’s here, you wanna talk to her?” Your friend now looked at you from across the desk. He handed you his phone, but mumbled a quick: “Keep it short.” “Hey,” you spoke into the phone after pulling your tongue at your friend. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.” You heard the smile in Yuta’s voice. You smiled in return. “Oh?” “Yeah, I was just thinking I love you. You know, if you’re, uh... into that.” You could hear him shuffling with something on his end, and he was not a nervous person, but you could tell he was trying hard to be casual. “I see,” you decided to toy with him. “Well, then.” “Well, what?” The shuffling stopped. You hummed loudly, like you were thinking something over. He sighed. “Fine, fine, I love you too,” you smiled down at your notes before your friend snatched his phone back from your hand. “That’s enough of that,” he spoke into the phone, but looked at you, addressing you both. You pouted at him but a smile quickly crept back on your face.

Doyoung

This was to be the dinner during which you would introduce Doyoung to some friends of yours to test the waters, see how he would get along, see if they liked him. It was a work dinner, relatively casual, where some of your favorite coworkers were joking among themselves, and poking fun at other people around the table. You were in the younger ones, the newer hires, so you, Doyoung, and a handful of work friends sat at the farthest edge of the table. Doyoung was chatting away with a girl he didn’t seem to realize was in fact a close friend of yours. He looked away for a moment and she flashed you a thumbs up, and an impressed look. You smiled to yourself, happy to have the stamp of approval. “What’s so funny?” Doyoung focused all his attention on you now. You laughed to yourself quietly before meeting his eyes. “I love you,” you cocked your head. He blushed, but grabbed your hand under the table. “I love you too,” he kissed the side of your head, going back to his conversation. There was no helping your lovestruck smile, and a friend of yours across the table made fun of you for it, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jaehyun

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing all the final things of the day, when Jaehyun leaned into the bathroom’s door frame. He was just watching you, and when you eventually looked back at him, he looked down. You went back to what you were doing, and he walked up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. “What’s up?” You giggled. “I love you,” he mumbled against your neck before looking at you through the mirror again. Eyes wide, you turned to face him. He looked down at you, not saying anything. “Well, I love you too, then.” You laughed, pulling him into a kiss.

Winwin

It was late, you knew it, but you and Winwin were huddled together under a big cozy blanket on the couch watching episode after episode of your current favorite show. You had noticed him dozing off time and again, waking himself up with a start each time. You didn’t want to disrupt him, but there was an important scene involving his favorite character, so you lightly shook him awake, his head coming up from your chest and his eyes opening slowly. He looked somehow like both a puppy and an angel and you couldn’t believe you got to see him in moments like these. At that point, you had forgotten why you had woken him up in the first place, and the television was just background noise. “I love you,” you breathed, and your heartbeat sped up almost instantly. He smiled a small, happy smile. “I love you too,” he whispered, laying his head back on your chest, eyes closed.

Jungwoo

You were taking a walk around the neighbourhood. It was a perfect day, the sun shining but just enough of a chill to entice you to wear your favorite sweater. He was commenting on the surroundings, making silly jokes and getting giggles out of you. In the midst of his narration of your environment - the houses and cars and the little lives of the little people in all of them, their fun names and jobs and hobbies - he cut himself off. “I love you,” he said hurriedly before going back to his antics. “What?” You laughed. “What?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, what, the “I love you”? Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that a big surprise?” “No, I guess not,” you acquiesced, “I love you too, though.” You elbowed him playfully. “Well, good, I hope so! You’d better!” He exclaimed, then smiled to himself.

Mark

You had found that loving Mark came in stages. First, you picked up little habits he had - none too specific, but you took notice and would smile to yourself. Then, you would go out of your way to make him laugh, because the sun shone in his eyes when he did. It went on like this until you finally admitted to yourself that you were in love with him, this cute dorky guy with the weird ears and sweet smile. You never said anything, and you figured if you ever did, things would get awkward and eventually your friendship might phase out, which was worse than pretending you felt nothing at all. One night, though, the two of you were in the middle of playing video games when you made a joke that had him doubled over in laughter. “Fuck, I love you!” He exclaimed through his laughter before getting very serious very fast. “Oh, I- I mean the- the- I- uh...” he stammered on like this until he noticed the look on your face. “What?” He eventually asked, startled by his own words and your wide eyes. “I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you said quietly, in what was probably the most serious tone you’d ever used around him. “Love me, I mean.” He stared at you, giggled, and got this big, stupid grin on his face. You thanked all your lucky stars and every light in the universe for allowing him into existence, into your life, and allowing him to feel for you as you did for him.

Haechan

You had gone to laser tag with friends, and you had made him swear he wouldn’t somehow cheat, or eliminate you in some snide way. Ultimately, you knew perfectly well that he was the sort of boy who played dirty or not at all, so when he snuck up behind you and you heard the loud sounds of your elimination, you were mildly annoyed, but not surprised. You turned to stare at him, mouth open in mock offense. “Haechan!” You cried. “It’s the game, don’t blame the player,” he held his hands up innocently. You fumed, sticking your tongue in your cheek to stop from snapping back. You moved to catch him and he ran away. “I love you?” he called back, his laughter echoing, while you sighed and returned to your team’s home base.

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anthonyjlockwood · 3 years

Note

Friend 👀👀 5 or 7 (definitely with lukebobby) on your prompt list!!!

Hey Lilly! I chose prompt 5 (Reggie is banned from the store Bobby works in, for Reasons, so he asks Luke to flirt with him so he’ll let him back in.)

read it on ao3 here!

“How exactly does someone get banned from the grocery store?”

“I don’t know, Alex!” Reggie wailed. He plopped down onto the couch in Alex and Willie’s shared apartment with dramatic flair.

Alex, who’d been sitting on the middle cushion with his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, shoved him aside. “Get up, you’re being dramatic.”

“The cashier was just so attractive,” Reggie whined. “I had to do something cool, ‘cause I wanted to ask for her number, so I took a Sharpie and wrote ‘I think you’re dairy cute’ on a carton of chocolate milk, so she’d see it when I went to check out! I didn’t think I’d get caught, and be thrown out of the store for vandalism!”

“You really thought that would work?” Alex asked.

“Hey, Alex. I think you’re ‘dairy cute,” Willie smirked, earning an eye roll from his boyfriend.

“Well, Reggie… I think it was a thoughtful gesture,” Julie called from the kitchen, “but why couldn’t you have just written your number on a piece of paper like everybody else?”

“Because! Go big or go home, Julie!” Reggie insisted.

“So, how are you gonna get Miss Dairy Cute’s number now?” Luke wondered, from deep in the refrigerator. He pulled out a package of string cheese and tossed it across the room, where Willie caught it from the sofa.

“I don’t know,” Reggie whined. “This is so unfair! It should be illegal to ban someone from a grocery store, anyway-- how am I supposed to buy food?”

“I’m sure you won’t go hungry,” Alex deadpanned. “There are like, six other grocery stores within driving distance.”

“But Cute Girl works at that grocery store!” Reggie huffed. “This sucks. And that manager probably thought he was sooo cool, and... responsible, kicking me out like that.”

“I have an idea!” Willie perked up. “Why don’t you get someone who’s not banned to go give your number to Miss Dairy Cute for you?”

Reggie wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s gotta see me, dude. I have to sweep her off her feet!”

“Well what other options do you have?” Alex asked. “Get someone to flirt with the ‘cool’, ‘responsible’ store manager and convince him to let you back in?”

Reggie’s eyes widened. He slapped Alex’s chest with the back of his hand energetically. “Dude, you’re a genius!”

“Wait, I was joking!” Alex screeched. “That’s a terrible idea!”

“The worst,” Luke agreed, laughing. “You gonna beg someone to be your wingman, Reg?”

“What’s that, folks?” Reggie put a hand to his ear and leaned forward theatrically. “Do we have a volunteer?”

“No!” Luke wrinkled his nose. “I don’t wanna go make an ass of myself at the grocery store,” he complained. “We’re supposed to be having a movie marathon tonight! Can’t you get someone to flirt with Mr. Responsibility tomorrow?”

“Oh no… I forgot to buy popcorn!” Reggie exclaimed, with exaggerated alarm. “We need popcorn tonight if we’re gonna have movie night. What a shame. Too bad I’m… banned from the grocery store.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Luke meaningfully.

“God, you’re annoying,” Luke complained.

"Off you go,” Reggie shooed him away.

“Ugh, fine,” Luke hefted himself up off the couch and grabbed his keys off the kitchen island. “Anyone wanna come?”

“Nope!”

“No, thanks!”

“I’m good right here!”

Luke groaned. “You guys are the worst. Don’t start the movie without me!”

When Luke entered the grocery store, the first thing he noticed was an old lady, angrily waving her cane at a guy in a vest. “This is unacceptable!” she was saying. “I’ve been coming to this grocery store for fifty four years!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the guy in the vest said, “but this coupon expired in 2004. We can’t accept it.” He turned away from her, towards Luke, and disguised his eye roll by pretending to scratch his temple. Luke saw the gesture and grinned.

This must be Mr. Responsibility, then. He did look pretty full of himself, Luke observed. His nametag was fastened securely to his blue vest-- Luke couldn’t read the name from this far away, but he did see that the guy had a set of keys, hanging from a lanyard around his neck. He stood with authority, but the fact that he looked about Luke’s age, and the fact that his professional facade was slipping so easily, made Luke feel like the whole “stern manager” shtick was just an act.

Luke picked up one of the magazines on the rack by the registers and pretended to leaf through it, so he could eavesdrop as the lady continued to tear into Mr. Responsibility. She said some intense-sounding stuff, like how she was going to call corporate, and she was going to complain to the manager-- “I am the manager,” the guy had replied contently-- and how she’d never shop there again. When she was finished, she stormed away, and Mr. Responsibility let out a huff.

His eyes once again found Luke, still laughing into the latest copy of National Inquirer. “Can I help you?” he asked, sounding mildly annoyed.

Something about Mr. Responsibility made Luke want to joke around, a little bit. He didn’t know what kind of sense of humor the guy had-- but he’d just gotten annoyed at a customer with a coupon almost old enough to go to prom, so Luke couldn’t resist making some sort of comment. And besides, he reasoned, Reggie had sent him here to flirt with this guy. Go big or go home, right?

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ve got a coupon from 2005-- will that work?”

“Do you need help finding something?” Mr. Responsibility asked, through gritted teeth.

“Relax...” Luke examined the boy’s name tag, fixed to the center of his blue vest. “Robert. I’m just asking a question. Where’s your sense of customer service?”

“It’s Bobby,” the boy grunted. “The name tag machine is broken so I can’t make a new one. Do you need help finding something?” he repeated. “Or were you just gonna hang out by the magazines, acting all suspicious?”

Luke grinned. “Sorry. I’m just messin’ with ya. Actually…” Maybe he should see what Bobby knew about the cashier that had stolen Reggie’s heart. That was the end goal of this mission, after all-- Operation Flirt Reggie’s Way Back Into The Grocery Store So He Can Sweep Attractive Cashier Girl Off Her Feet. (That name would definitely have to be reworked.)

“My friend-- great guy, real hopeless romantic-- was here earlier today,” Luke said. “He was trying to make this grand gesture to win over one of your cashiers, but he got kicked out before he could give her his number. You know who he meant?” Luke’s eyes trailed along the registers, trying to sense which girl Reggie had fallen for.

“Oh, yeah.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “The guy that defiled a perfectly good carton of chocolate milk. I told him to get lost.”

“I think that was quite unfair of you,” Luke said matter-of-factly. “Also not the type of customer service I’d expect from you-- maybe I should be the next call to corporate, right after Coupon Lady.”

“Yeah?” Bobby’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of service do you expect, then?”

“Well,” Luke started, putting the copy of National Inquirer back on the shelf, and leafing through the other options. “You were really good with Coupon Lady. Very professional. Very mature-sounding,” he crooned. “How come you can be nice to some customers, and not others?”

Bobby blinked rapidly-- he seemed unsure how to react to Luke’s compliments. “‘Coupon Lady’ wasn’t a hooligan drawing on milk.”

“Ooh, ‘hooligan’?” Luke repeated, grin forming across his face. “Fancy vocabulary you’ve got there. But I’m not just talking about Reggie.”

“What?” Bobby looked confused. “Who else, then? Was it another one of your friends who caused the spill in Aisle Five before?”

“No!” Luke rolled his eyes. “I meant me. I’m a paying customer, and you’re not being very accommodating.”

“I don’t see you paying for anything.” Bobby raised one eyebrow. “Actually, you reading that magazine without buying it first could be considered stealing.”

Luke winked at him. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of payment agreement.”

Bobby froze.

Luke was thoroughly enjoying Bobby’s reactions to his flirting-- plus, his satisfaction grew with the knowledge that he’d have Reggie back in the store in no time.

He ruffled his hair and gave Bobby his most persuasive smile. “Please tell me why you threw Reggie out of the store?” He batted his eyelashes, too, for dramatic effect.

Bobby blinked again, momentarily flustered. “Uh-- well… he was drawing on the milk carton! And he couldn’t explain why-- when I asked, he… he just kept going on about ‘the pretty self-checkout girl’.”

“There are lots of pretty people working here,” Luke commented. He maintained eye contact with the manager and watched his cheeks bloom fuschia.

Bobby opened and closed his mouth for a moment, struggling for words-- he looked kind of like a fish out of water, gasping for breath.

“Do you know who he was talking about?” Luke continued innocently.

Bobby swallowed, looking relieved that Luke had said something he could actually respond to. “He must’ve meant Kayla-- she’s in charge of that today.” He pointed to the self checkout lanes, where a pretty Asian girl stood behind a podium, scribbling onto a clipboard. Turning back to Luke, realizing the other boy’s eyes had never left him, he straightened up, fixing his shirt collar. “Tell your friend he’s got no shot, though. Kayla hasn’t said yes to a guy in months.”

“You don’t know Reggie,” Luke argued. “He can be very persuasive. He’s a real catch, too.”

“You trying to set your friend up with Kayla, or me?”

For some reason, Luke was enjoying pushing Bobby’s buttons. It wasn’t really like him to go around flirting with random grocery store workers-- but this was his mission, after all, and Bobby seemed like he really needed to loosen up a bit. And if there was one thing Luke was good at, it was making people forget about their responsibilities and do what he wanted. Reggie wasn’t the only one who could be persuasive.

“Definitely Kayla,” he said. “But, seriously, bro. Reggie totally didn’t mean to ‘defile’ your milk.”

“Yeah, well, he’s still banned,” Bobby said. “Can I get back to work now?”

Luke reached out to stop Bobby from pushing past him. “Hey, wait.”

“Yes?”

Operation Get-Reggie-Back-Into-The-Grocery-Store was not going to plan. Luke took a deep breath; it was time to switch tactics.

“You know, Bobby, the way you handled Coupon Lady was pretty admirable,” Luke commented. “You’re a great manager.”

Bobby eyed Luke skeptically, taking in his tank top, his beanie, and the way he leaned precariously against the magazine stand, threatening to send it toppling over. But Luke kept a genuine-looking expression plastered on his face, and eventually Bobby’s ego gave in and he accepted the compliment. His shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Thanks.”

“How long’ve you been the manager, anyway?” Luke asked.

“I’m... actually the assistant manager,” Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. “That guy’s the manager.” He nodded to the wall in front of them, where there was a framed picture of an equally stuffy-looking man, wearing a tie. A plaque underneath the framed photo said “Walter, Store Manager.”

“Oooh, where’s your picture?” Luke teased.

“I-- I don’t have one,” Bobby stammered.

“That assistant manager promotion didn’t come with a framed photo?” Luke raised his eyebrows. “That’s a shame. Y’know, the store would look a lot better if it was you hanging up there instead of… Walter.”

“...You think?” Bobby puffed out his chest.

“Definitely,” Luke grinned. “I’d totally put a call in to the higher-ups about that one.”

There was a line building at the registers, now, but Bobby didn’t seem to notice. Luke could tell that the man was starting to warm up to him.

“So, anyway, Bobby… My friend Reggie’s really upset about not being allowed back in here,” Luke said with a sigh. “D’you think there’s anything we could do to un-ban him?”

“That depends…” Bobby started. “Is he gonna harass my cashiers if he’s allowed back?”

“Absolutely not,” Luke denied. “Reggie wouldn’t hurt a fly. Like I said before; total catch, remember?”

Bobby still hesitated.

“And maybe…” Luke suggested with a smirk, “maybe if he actually gets your self checkout girl’s attention, we could go on a double date sometime?”

Bobby gulped. There was a brief period of almost-awkward silence until…

“Y-yeah… yeah, maybe. Just-- just make sure he doesn’t write on any milk this time.”

Luke’s thousand-watt grin lit up his face once again. “I’m gonna need your number, if we’re going to make this happen.”

Bobby wiped his hands on his pants leg and took his cell phone out of the pocket of his vest. “Here.”

Luke tapped his number into Bobby’s phone, and saved his contact information under the name “Hooligan.” He passed the phone back to Bobby, still smiling.

Bobby glanced down at the phone screen, and finally rewarded Luke with his first laugh ever.

“Your turn,” Luke said, passing over his own phone. He watched Bobby type for a moment, and when he got the phone back, he saw that it said, “Customer Service.”

Luke stepped into Alex and Willie’s apartment with a smug grin plastered on his face. At his entry, Reggie hit pause on the movie-- which they had started without Luke-- and ran to meet him at the door. “Well? Am I in?”

“You’re in,” Luke laughed. “And if you really can sweep Kayla off her feet, we’ve got a double date.”

“Double date?” Willie asked. “You met someone at the grocery store, too?”

“Leave it to Luke,” Alex laughed. “Goes to get Reggie a girlfriend and comes back with a date of his own.”

“Turns out Operation Flirt With The Manager worked wonders,” he said. “His name’s Bobby.”

“See, Alex? I told you it was a good idea,” Reggie grinned. “I’m gonna go there right now-- gotta catch Dairy Cute before she leaves!”

“Her name’s Kayla!” Luke called after his friend, as he ran out the door.

Three weeks later, Reggie’s short-lived relationship with Kayla had fizzled out, but Luke and Bobby were still going strong.

They were sitting on the living room couch in Bobby’s apartment, on their fifth official date, having a movie marathon of their own.

“Hey, Bobby?”

“Hmm?”

“Remember when I said that it was unfair of you, banning Reggie from the store?”

“Yeah,” Bobby scoffed.

“Well, I was wrong,” Luke admitted. “I don’t actually blame you-- Reggie’s a total mess sometimes. I’d probably have banned him, too.”

Bobby laughed. “If he ever lets go of that grudge he still has on me, I might tell him you said that.”

“But… I’m actually kinda glad that he wrote on that milk carton,” he admitted. “‘Cause if he hadn’t, I probably never would’ve met you.”

“That’s dairy sappy of you, Wilson,” Luke smirked.

“Oh, shut up,” Bobby replied. He pulled the other boy close, and connected Luke’s lips with his own.

#i feel like the ending of this is super rushed asdfglksd #but i hope you like it!!#thanks for the prompt!#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfiction #lukebobby #lobby #luke patterson #bobby wilson #bobby jatp #chickwiththepurpleguitar

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trouvelle · 4 years

Text

You Might Melt Me

Fandom: Detective Conan/DCMK Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha (mentioned Shinichi/Ran) Rating: PG Genre/Tags: Fluff, Comedy, College!AU Warning: Implied smut (a tiny bit of dirty talking) Summary: “So what?” Kaito asks, “Do you watch her eat and stuff?” “It’s like a ritual,” Shinichi tells Kaito helpfully.

•

Heiji is only twenty and he’s already facing a quarter-life crisis.

It’s not the fact that he has an entire class period (which dares to take up any normal person’s lunch time) every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. Yes, having to have late lunch just so he can attend his class dutifully does sort of bothers him. And no, Heiji does not hate studying. Not at all. Especially when it’s chemistry, one of the areas of study that he excels in, aside from maths... and biology. And physics. Yadda, yadda, he’s smart.

The unfortunate quarter-life crisis he’s currently facing, though, has been one and the same for as long as he can remember.

And it’s also right here, in his class, as of the moment.

Heiji pushes down the urge to bang his fists on the table surface as he tries to listen to the professor’s explanation. Trying would be so easy. In fact, scoring a perfect score would be a piece of cake with a cherry on top if only the girl beside him would stop spending the entire class period stuffing her face with food and making Heiji want to scream at him to please freaking stop for his sanity.

She doesn’t stop eating, the ends of her chopsticks stained with sauce and mouth munching at a piece of glorious fried chicken, and doesn’t seem fazed by Heiji’s intense glaring.

This is why it’s a serious crisis and not some random matter that he can shrug off and forget. He has to pass this chemistry course with flying colours but concentrating on the lecture isn’t easy when Toyama Kazuha is eating right beside him, a box of karaage on her lap and without a care in the world, and Heiji seriously considers smacking the packaging right at her cute face. Beautiful face. But also undoubtedly annoying face. Not like he pays her extra attention or anything.

Kazuha pokes a piece of chicken into her mouth and turns sideways to glance at him and he is absolutely not staring at the way the piece of chicken visibly pokes at her cheek from inside her mouth as she continues to munch nonchalantly and the way her mouth moves rhythmically as she chews and swallows down her food. He ignores the way his heart is thumping excitedly in his chest. There was a time when there is no possible way Heiji would ever think that Toyama Kazuha is cute. Nowadays, whenever he sees her, his mind is always spelling out at him, in capitalized bold glittery letters, the word CUTE.

Kazuha raises a perfect brow at him, looking like she is sizing Heiji up and has a judgmental remark at the tip of her tongue ready to be thrown at Heiji, only that she’s too busy munching to do that. She only looks away when Heiji does.

She spends the rest of class occasionally looking up to nod at the professor’s words. He spends the rest of class trying not to notice.

•

Today is Tuesday.

Tuesday means pizza at the campus cafeteria.

That doesn’t mean Heiji is going out to buy two boxes of pizza for both lunch and dinner so he doesn’t have to wait for his beloved roommate Shinichi to return to their dorm with his girlfriend’s homemade food. Well, that too, but Pizza Tuesday mainly means that Kazuha gets to eat pizza for lunch. In class.

Pizza Tuesday also means Heiji slumping down in his seat as he listens to the boring lecture (boring, because Heiji always comes to Organic Chemistry II academically prepared and knowing that he’s already had firsthand knowledge about the materials anyway) and tries not to watch the way the slice of pizza disappears into Kazuha’s mouth.

Said girl looks too cheerful for twelve at noon.

She is also wearing a sleeveless and cropped sports tank top today and he chokes on his own saliva when he sees the band of her black freaking bra as she moves to bring a slice of pizza into his mouth. Damn that top of hers with armholes too wide to even qualify as a shirt. He reaches for his water bottle and ignores the way his mouth waters at that delicious piece of… pizza! Yeah. Definitely the pizza. Heiji is undoubtedly craving for pizza right now.

Half way into the lecture he finds Kazuha turning to him with a mildly pitiful look on his face. She’s definitely thinking Heiji is salivating at his pizza. Which Heiji is. Definitely.

Heiji slumps further down his seat and grumbles into his sweatshirt.

•

Heiji wonders if it’s possible for him to react with excess oxygen to form water and carbon dioxide because at this point, he might as well just combust. At least then he won’t have to listen to the constant sound that she lets out as she eats, the sound so loud and distinct Heiji wouldn’t be surprised if she had been eating her cookies right in front of his ears all this time.

He feels like crumpling his desk into a makeshift ball of anger and smacking it at her face as she won’t stop snacking her pretty and pouty mouth off, seating relaxedly on her chair as the sound intensifies, and he thinks he’s going insane because no one else, not even the professor, seems like they give a damn about Kazuha eating extra loudly and practically disrupting the lesson. He doubts they even notice, which is probably the case with their professor.

Heiji wants to scream.

•

Heiji doesn’t scream.

Not in class, anyway. But he does scream when he goes back to his room, lying face down on his bed with his feet resting on the headboard. It’s a very comfortable position.

“Hattori!” Shinichi growls from his desk as Heiji continues to scream and scream and scream into his comforter because if Kazuha can disrupt his studying period by making the loudest and most enticing noises possible, then he has all the rights to yell as much as he wants.

“Hattori, I swear to your pathetic wrinkled ass that if you don’t stop that—”

“My butt is amazing!” Heiji yells back at him, still into the comforter, because getting up and shifting into a different position just so Shinichi can hear him is too much work and a waste of valuable energy.

Shinichi makes a disgruntled sound.

Something flashes in Heiji’s mind and he halts his screaming to a stop. Shinichi is gathering his stuff up when Heiji lifts his head to look at him.

It’s only happened too many times, Heiji can’t even pinpoint when exactly he became entranced by the sight. He vividly remembers that one time wherein he was walking behind Kazuha (they usually walk side by side) and didn’t waste his chance to stare at Kazuha’s back figure and the way her jeans hugged her toned legs and the curve of her ass so wonderfully.

Heiji sighs, almost dreamily. She looks amazing. Shinichi makes wild, incomprehensible gestures with his arms that Heiji thinks make him look like a ridiculous flailing pigeon. Heiji sighs again, this time more heavily because he has too many unnecessary feelings. He turns to Shinichi, hoping that the pout on his face makes him look pathetic enough for Shinichi to sympathize with him.

Shinichi merely gives Heiji a disapproving look before coldly closing the door behind him and leaving twenty minutes early for his date with Ran. Lover boy.

•

Heiji confronts Kazuha one morning, on the hallway just outside the lecture hall. She doesn’t look the least bothered by it, instead sporting an amused smile on her face as she licks at her chocolate ice cream like the irksome ahou she is.

“Can you not eat in class?” He asks, looking her in the eye and trying not to stare at the way her tongue drags down the side of the ice cream. Oh, how he misses their high school days when food is absolutely forbidden during class time.

“Why?” She asks, peering up at him. She has really long lashes.

“Because,” Heiji says and wets his lips when she licks at her ice cream with a torturously slow drag of her tongue. “Campus regulations prohibit food and drinks in class.”

Kazuha merely blinks at him before bringing her ice cream up so that she can suck at the swirling tip of it. His breath hitches involuntarily, which results in him inhaling a waft of what is probably her scent that strongly smells like citrus and vanilla. “I don’t know,” she says, an innocent look on her face. “Professor doesn’t seem like he minds.”

Heiji wants to strangle her. And maybe dip his finger into Kazuha’s mouth so he can feel how that ice cream must have felt like to be licked by that⁠—wait, what?

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Heiji growls instead, voice dropping an octave lower to show how serious this matter is for his future.

“Why?” A wet tongue darts out to lick ice cream off her lips that curl upwards at the end into a mischievous, kittenish smile and Heiji feels his insides melt and twist and swirl and explode into a myriad of feelings. “Does it bother you?” Kazuha asks, looking up at him and her mouth working, savoring the taste of milk chocolate. He might also be wondering how her lips might taste like, though nobody else has to know about how long he’s been having that thought for. Too goddamn long.

“Yes,” he says before his mind can register. After it does, he quickly adds, “No!” with his forefinger pointed at her because he’s supposed to be angry. “I’m supposed to concentrate on the lecture but I can’t because you’re right there beside me and won’t stop snacking in class and it’s getting on my nerves, you ahou!”

She ignores him and runs her tongue around what’s left of her ice cream and Heiji feels like he’s the one melting instead of the ice cream.

He must look really dumb standing right there with his mouth hanging open as he stares at her speechlessly.

She watches and studies him, still with that same mildly amused smile on her face, as he tries to find something to say and fails miserably. “Ahou.” Kazuha says with finality when she’s decided that he doesn’t seem like he’s got anything else to say, and continues to munch and bite into her cone as she walks away. Just like that.

•

Heiji decides the best decision is to unleash all of it to Shinichi and Kaito after class and make them listen to a verbal showcase of his concerns because that’s what friends are for.

“Oh. You’re early,” is Kaito greeting, the man not tearing his eyes away from his bowl of noodles as Heiji barges into his room and drops himself on their couch. Shinichi barely looks up before turning back to his laptop. He’s probably gotten tired of being exasperated by Heiji at some point.

“Are you not going to ask me how chemistry went?” Heiji gurgles into the couch.

“How was chemistry?” Kaito asks, monotonously.

“That ahou brought another food to eat in class again today,” Heiji says, sighing emptily.

“So what?” Kaito asks, before he seems to get it. Is this guy even more hopeless than he thinks? “Do you watch her eat and stuff?”

“It’s like a ritual,” Shinichi tells Kaito helpfully. When Heiji turns to look at them, Shinichi is still typing into his laptop, probably doing some essay for his literature class.

“She eats too goddamn loud. I can hear everything—her chewing, munching, swallowing—it drives me crazy! And it’s so annoying because I can’t hate her,” Heiji states, jabbing his finger at the couch and totally making a point.

“Why would you want to hate her?” Kaito asks, using his chopsticks to swirl around the remaining ramen in his bowl. “ I thought you⁠ li—nevermind.”

“Because she’s loud and she’s distracting me from studying in class,” Heiji says, glaring at the other boy.

Kaito looks up from his bowl. “She’s distracting you? Not.. you’re distracting her?” he asks, eyes narrowed looking cat-like and a lot more invested in the conversation. If there’s one thing Hattori Heiji is good at, it’s being ridiculously distracting at any given circumstance.

“Yes, and I don’t disturb nor distract people,” Heiji defends himself.

“So she’s loud… and you’re not.” Kaito repeats, this time more of a statement than a question, “And she’s distracting... and you’re not.”

“Well, yeah,” Heiji shakes his head exasperatedly.

He’s about to snap at Kaito because this is getting ridiculous, but Shinichi joins in, looking up from his laptop. “For the record, Hattori, you’re the only one who thinks Kazuha eats that loud.”

Kaito says, with a quirk in his mouth, “The problem is on you, not her.”

What? “I don’t—”

“Kuroba is having a bowl of ramen and you don’t seem to even realize how messy he’s eating.” Shinichi points out, trying to get his message across the thick-skulled boy, earning an unamused look from Kaito instead.

Nobody says anything, the slurping sound Kaito’s making as he eats his instant ramen is the only sign of presence in the apartment. Heiji briefly recalls what she looks like eating a bowl of ramen. With broth smeared around her lips and still looking effortlessly delectable nonetheless.

“Exactly.” Shinichi finishes with an exasperated look dead set in his eyes, like the wise old man he is, and Heiji really, really hates his friends.

“I hate all of you,” he groans at them both.

“Nah, you don’t,” Shinichi says, turning back to his stupid laptop with that stupid smile on his stupid face.

Heiji trashes his limbs around their stupid couch just so he can make their living room look a lot messier. Very mature. Heiji is proud of himself.

“Nah, you don’t,” Kaito reiterates, getting up to put his bowl into the sink. “Also, you’re on dish duty today.” Heiji doesn’t think they’ve helped him at all.

“You should consider the fact that your brain simply shuts down and all your other senses are heightened whenever Kazuha is present,” is what Heiji hears and ignores before he shuts the world off with his arm draped across his forehead to cover his eyes and sulks away to his sleep.

•

Heiji drops in his usual seat beside Kazuha’s. She’s not here yet, so he concludes that her other class is running late. She walks to class with what looks like soft milk breads in her hand and has an almost unnoticeable smile on her face that she tries to hide by biting into her bread when she catches sight of him.

The next hour he finds himself trying to subtly catch glimpses of her eating. She’s so fucking adorable, sparkly eyes focused on the lecture and cheeks bulging out cutely as she stuffs her face with food. That bread must be so soft and delicious, but Heiji is more curious of how soft Kazuha’s cheeks would feel again under his palm.

It’s stupid, but he doesn’t try to suppress the smile that creeps up his face as he stares at her fondly and thinks that, yeah, maybe he can finally accept this.

•

It has become a habit that Heiji forgoes lunch every Tuesday and Thursday in favor of coming to chemistry class on time. That doesn’t stop him from getting some snacks, though, because food is a must and is absolutely important, even more so than chemistry.

Usually, he stops by the nearby vending machine to get a pack of chips before the lecture and no more. This time, Heiji buys two. He finishes his pack of chips and chucks the empty packaging into the trash can and walks to class.

The professor walks in right after and the lecture starts just as he takes a seat, placing the pack of chips on his desk and dropping his backpack onto the floor. When he looks to the side, Kazuha is sulking in her seat, slumping into her oversized camel coat grumpily. He still thinks she looks the cutest in them.

“Want food,” She whines audibly into the desk, frowning cutely. He makes no effort to resist the urge to reach over and pinch her cheek, so he did. Not before throwing an “ahou” her way to make him seem more sincere, of course.

He glances at the pack of chips on his desk.

Kazuha looks up when he places it in front of her. “Food?” she asks, sitting up and looking at Heiji with an adorable, confused look on her face.

“Food,” Heiji says unintelligently.

The lights are turned off for a powerpoint presentation the professor is currently doing, but he can see the way her eyes narrow at him in mild suspicion. “What did you put in this?”

He turns at the expected accusation. “Nothing!” he says defensively, feeling attacked. She has apparently not forgotten their middle school prank wars. He sighs. “I just bought it. For you.”

She looks at him intently. There’s a moment of pause, and he shifts in his chair anxiously, before she raises a brow and gives him a small, knowing smile. “I thought you hated it when I eat in class?”

He is ready to respond to her with a snide remark, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he feels bold, confidence growing as he says, “I like watching you eat.” She is toying with the plastic packaging of the chips and grinning when he smiles happily at her.

“Not surprised. Because I eat very gracefully, unlike you.” She throws back at him, a teasing glint in her eyes as she continues to smile at him. Heiji never noticed until now, but their obligatory daily arguments have blossomed into something more comforting and teasing like these ones. He wonders why they used to yell at each other so much when they were younger.

Heiji tunes out the professor’s words as he watches Kazuha throw chips into her mouth, the frown gone from her face. He keeps his gaze until she’s done with the chips. "Do you want something else?" Heiji asks, keeping his voice down and leaning in.

She turns to him. "What do you mean?"

She doesn't tear her gaze as he reaches for his backpack and rummages in it. He smiles as she leans in curiously, trying to peek into his bag with that cute pout on her face. Her eyes widen when he fishes out a bar of chocolate and places it on Kazuha's table.

"Heiji," Kazuha whines, eyes narrowing as she stares at the chocolate bar. "You've eaten half of it," she states as a matter-of-factly.

He indeed has, just yesterday, because he was hungry and who wouldn’t if he knew he had chocolate in his bag? But he still wants to give it to her, because a hungry Kazuha without food is a sad Kazuha and a sad Kazuha is the recipe for a sad Heiji.

He shrugs, pretending to reach for the chocolate. “If you don’t want it, then…”

Her hand quickly lands on the chocolate before his does, covering it with her hand protectively. "Thanks," she says, reaching over to brush the back of her hand against his and smiling up at him with those expressive eyes. She unwraps the chocolate so she can bite into it even though they're clearly in the middle of a lecture, and Heiji can't even be angry at her. Instead he feels like vomiting butterflies and unicorns because Kazuha is so freaking cute and he has never been happier.

•

If Heiji had known that being Kazuha’s boyfriend would be this amazing, he would have stopped burying his feelings years ago and started looking for all the things he can hate Kazuha for since day one.

They’re in Heiji’s room, laptop perched at the end of Heiji’s bed and a bowl of half eaten popcorn left to rest beside it. Having kicked out an exasperated Shinichi and Kaito out of the apartment half an hour back, Heiji made sure that they have the door securely locked, just in case. It’s a fortunate thing, because, as it turns out, Kazuha has a completely different plan for them that does not involve watching the many Avengers movies he has saved into his laptop, and it’s not like he is complaining, anyway.

Kazuha has a downright feral grin on her face as she trails a palm down Heiji’s naked torso, fingers brushing lightly at the hem of his pants as she looks up at him with twinkling eyes. Her hair is tousled up from where he buried his fingers in her dark locks as they made out earlier and he gulps because he’s never seen anyone look so distractingly adorable and suffocatingly hot at the same time.

Heiji shudders at the lingering warmth of her breath on the skin just above where his pants are pulled taut because he’s so achingly hard and her teasing isn’t helping.

“Heiji,” Kazuha purrs, peering up from under long lashes and the ends of her lips pulled up into a feline smile.

He breathes out, grip tightening on the sheets as he pushes down the urge to buck up because it’s only been fifteen minutes and he’s already so desperate.

“Heiji,” He really likes the way Kazuha says his name. “Remember when I had that ice cream? Want me to do exactly what I did to it⁠—” a wet tongue darts out to lick at where skin meets the seam of jeans to leave wet trails behind and he groans as she smirks in satisfaction “⁠—to you?”

“Kazuha,” Heiji hisses out as a warning, feeling like he’s on the brink of exploding because she is so torturously slow. Too slow.

“Want me to lick you up?” Kazuha dips down to take the head of his pants’ zipper in between her teeth. “Suck you dry?” Her palm is hot and welcome as it leaves a burning trail down Heiji’s sensitive ribs. “Swallow you down?”

“Kazuha. Just—” Heiji chokes into a stop when she hushes him up with a soft sound.

The kitty grin on her face makes him want to curse. “Do you want it?”

He looks down at her, chest heaving as he breathes hard. He closes his eyes, willing himself to think because thinking is hard when the body wants otherwise.

Fuck it. “Yes. Fuck, yes Kazuha. Do it.” He all but groans as soon as his mind registers, and doesn’t bother restraining himself from bucking up when she drags her head down, pulling the zipper open with her teeth. Her lips look so beautiful wrapped around the piece of metal and Heiji feels like the luckiest man on Earth to be the sole witness to that. He’s about to melt, physically and mentally, in all sense of the word.

Later, he finally finds out how the ice cream has felt with Kazuha’s lips wrapped around it in a tight, warm heat, and feels so damn happy because, let’s be real, now that he has her, he’s luckier than the luckiest man on Earth.

#Hattori Heiji #Kudo Shinichi #Toyama Kazuha #Detective Conan #DCMK #Kuroba Kaito #heizuha #heiji x kazuha #college au #shinran #shinichi x ran #comedy #fluff #fic #university au

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apocalypsewriters · 4 years

Text

Not-a Damsel in Distress: Getting to the Heart of Friendship

Summary: Victor-Hecate needs some serious wardrobe help, so they invite some friends over. Flirting, gadgets and hijinks are involved

A/N: It's here!!!! The second part. It's quite long, so I'd advise you to find a place to relax, maybe with a snack or a drink (it's important to stay hydrated) And once again, the incredible, amazing, talented @pagesofcursive (Briar) has characters heavily featured here, and her characters are linked at the end. We have another part in the works, but for now, enjoy!

Even though they lay curled on their bed, Victor-Hecate still wore almost as much clothing as in school, though they were wearing it more casually. A comfortable silence spread between her and Aster, who sat just beside them. Victor-Hecate wore a lightweight deep magenta jacket, black fingerless gloves, a scarf thrown loosely around their shoulders, and a matching grey beanie pinning up their normally flyaway curls and covering their ears.

A buzzing sound split the air, coming from Victor-Hecate’s phone. They picked it up, resting the book they were reading on the bedside table. A smirk split their face as they read the text, their clear blue eyes glittering with mischief. “So,” they began, stretching out the word. “I may have forgotten to mention that I, uh, invited someone over.”

They watched mock excitement grow on Aster’s face, contrasting comically to her outfit. She had dark, ripped jeans on, and an old leather jacket, matching with combat boots that dangled off the edge of the twin bed. “Ooh, anyone I know?” she gushed, then paused, looking mildly disgusted at the bubbly tone.

“You could say that,” Victor-Hecate said, but before the last word left their mouth, the door to their room flew open. A trio of girls walked in, somehow vastly different from each other, yet they all seemed to belong together. The first girl that flounced in was the one Victor-Hecate knew the best – her cousin, Violetta. Her wavy chocolate brown hair swished around her shoulders, the top artfully twisted together in a collections of curls held by bobby pins, holding the flyaway hairs, the ones that annoyed her ever since they were small, out of her eyes Ever stylish, Violetta wore a white miniskirt with a lavender tank top, finishing the look with a pair of black wedge boots. They had been texting back and forth for most of the day, organizing the afternoon. Her bouncing walk screeched to a halt two steps past the doorway, and her laughter cut off abruptly as she noticed Aster perched out on the bed.

The second girl crashed into her, unprepared for the abrupt stop. Victor-Hecate vaguely knew her from her cousin’s social media feed and her brief description over texting that day. Juni wore a white fit and flare dress that cut off right at her knees with shocks of pink and yellow flowers scattered around the hem. Her wide grin at the joke she’d just told was stark white against her deep brown skin. Her black afro hair was mostly tamed by a white bandana, matching with the cute outfit she wore.

Victor-Hecate didn’t recognize the final girl, who stopped herself from crashing into the other two just in time. Though she was about the same height as the first two, she seemed smaller. Her shoulders were hunched and swallowed by her white NASA hoodie. She’d just pulled her hands out of the large front pocket to catch her balance, revealing frayed and patched sleeves. She didn’t exude nearly as much confidence as the other two, her black leggings not bringing anything to her already humble outfit. Her curly chestnut hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that sat at the base of her neck – the hair tie seemed to be there only to keep most of her hair out of her face, not to make any statement. A glimpse of brown leather flashed from underneath her almost overlarge hoodie, but Victor-Hecate thought nothing of it.

Victor-Hecate smirked as they watched Aster straighten up as she locked eyes with Violetta. Their cousin broke free of the trance first, stammering, “Oh, Aster, I- I didn’t realize you were going to be here.” She faced her cousin. “Wait, why is she-” Violetta whipped back to Aster. “Why are you here?”

Aster exchanged a glance with Victor-Hecate, whose eyes glowed smugly. She sighed, collecting herself. “I met your cousin today, and we’re hanging out. Is there a problem?” Though her tone was even, almost a little hostile, her bouncing leg betrayed her nervousness. Aster slid to the edge of the bed. The tips of her ears matched the hue they had been earlier that day when the seated pair had briefly discussed Violetta in the hallway.

Violetta jumped to her own defense, holding up her arms placatingly. “No! No, not at all! I just… wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” She had started going red too.

As the scene unfolded in front of them, Victor-Hecate’s smirk widened.

“So,” piped up Juni, her voice melodic and sweet. “What should we all do?”

Victor-Hecate watched the final girl shift uncomfortably, her eyes shifting between the not-so-subtly smitten pair. Finally, the girl spoke. “Is, uh, someone going to introduce me? I don’t really know anyone here. Besides Juni, that is.” She was surprisingly sure of herself when speaking, each word perfectly enunciated, her phrases carefully calculated. She reached for Juni’s hand for comfort, the action small but sweet.

“Right!” Juni gently squeezed the unknown girl’s hand, pulling her forward a little. “You met Violetta on the way over here, and then, uh, that’s Violetta’s cousin, Vee!” She waved enthusiastically at them, Bella echoing her, raising her hand. Victor-Hecate gave a little salute at being addressed, touching two of their fingers to their forehead. Juni continued, gesturing to Aster, who was trying to rearrange her position to seem less tense. “And then, that’s Aster, Violetta’s…” She paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, while also seeming to search for the right words. Violetta’s cheeks flared red in the silence; Aster opened her mouth in protest to whatever Juni would claim. Before either of them managed to make a sound, Juni settled on her word choice with a nod. “…academic rival.” She wiggled her eyebrows at the mystery girl, who rolled her eyes, having already picked up on the subtext. She pushed the girl forward a little more, who attempted to straighten up a little as Juni introduced her. “And, everyone, this is Bella!”

Victor-Hecate unfolded themself, straightening out their left leg and resting their right knee against their chest. “You’re Juni, right? Vi’s told me about you.” They stole a glance at Violetta, feeling guilty about how little they’d connected over the years, before addressing Bella. “But yeah, I’m Vee. Victor-Hecate. Tae. Whatever. Really, take your pick. I’ve collected more nicknames than I can count.”

Bella hummed, giving them a once-over. “Aren’t you hot with all that on?” The question, though a little prying, seemed innocent in intention. All the same, Victor-Hecate shifted uncomfortably.

Aster came to their rescue, redirecting the conversation. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons why I’m here today.” She slid the rest of the way off the bed, striding over to the closet and flinging the doors open with a bang, making everyone jump. “I’m helping them figure out new outfits and stuff.”

“And I was brought along? Really?” Bella mumbled to Juni, who shrugged in response. The pair perched on the bed, watching Aster look through the closet.

Violetta perked up immediately, rushing over to Aster to stick her head into the overstuffed closet. “And nobody told me about this? This is my specialty!”

Victor-Hecate nodded, unseen by the fashionista, who was already shoulder deep in the wardrobe, rummaging around. “That’s why I invited you over. I got into a bit of trouble at school, and I need help picking something out that won’t get me called out for dress code issues.”

Violetta stuck her head out of the closet, a piece of faux fur stuck in her hair, and scrutinized Victor-Hecate’s current outfit. “Have you thought about fewer layers?”

They shifted again, hugging their leg to their chest. “Not really.” She glanced desperately at Aster, who returned their helpless look. They scrambled for an excuse, for any reason other than their power. “I’ve been… uh, burning really easily lately, and I don’t want to take any risks.”

“You’ve been burning,” Bella scoffed, easily seeing through the blatant lie. “Like in the sun?”

Fortunately, Violetta didn’t notice, her head too deep into the layers of clothing again, looking for an outfit she approved of. “Mm, that makes sense, but maybe you can cover up without having everything being too… bulky?” Her voice was muffled by the copious coats. Frustration tinged her statement- probably because there wasn’t anything in the closet besides long-sleeved and thick jackets.

Victor-Hecate shrugged. “I guess? It’s just more… comfortable that way,” they said hurriedly, hoping to appease Violetta.

Finally, she emerged from the closet, stray hairs sticking up from her coiled hairstyle. She began redoing it, holding the bobby pins between her teeth, mulling over the situation. Between pins, she said, “Maybe we could buy you some cute jackets? And matching jeans?”

Her elbow brushed past Aster as she twirled up another piece of hair. Aster reddened at the closeness of her crush but managed to regain control and focus on the matter at hand. “What about long gloves?” she suggested.

“I guess that sounds good,” Victor-Hecate rearranged their scarf to cover more of their neck, uncomfortable with so many people close to them. They were glad Aster was there; she could help out if anything went wrong, as unlikely as it would be, and she could help deflect her cousin and her friends’ questions. They mulled over Aster’s suggestion, a nagging feeling persisting the longer they pondered the suggestion. “Is that allowed though? At school, I mean.”

“It’s not stated in the school rules that it isn’t allowed,” Bella recited. “So, I suppose you should be able to. But the hat…”

“Yeah, I know.” Victor-Hecate leaned back, trying to relax. There was no need to be closed off because they were around nice people, but it was still a bit difficult. “So, what are you two into? We might as well kill time as Vi organizes my makeover.” They grimaced a little, calling out to their cousin who was near buried in their closet again, “Nothing too extreme, ‘kay?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Aster reassured, her tone light and teasing. Violetta giggled, the sound smothered by clothing again.

“Well,” Juni said, nudging Bella, “what do you want to do?”

Bella went stark white, nervous at the prospect of being the one to decide what the group could do. “Oh, it’s not that interesting,” she said, fumbling with her words. “Too nerdy to be interesting.” The explanation came out in a rush, as if the faster she spoke, the sooner they’d move on, but Juni wouldn’t let it go so easily.

The sunny girl perked up, grinning. “Spill!”

“It’s not much really,” Bella shyly mumbled, fishing around in what had been hidden underneath her hoodie earlier – a toolbelt. Unbuttoning one of the many pouches, she delicately fished out a small white box. It was made of shiny white material that looked smooth to the touch. Its rounded corners leaned its design to a sleek and modern feel. Two black lines traced from halfway up one face, across another, up to the opposite side it started on. The shy girl placed it on her palm, black facing down and a blue line lit up around the top of the box.

“Ooh,” Victor-Hecate said, leaning in. An intrigued expression crossed their face. “What does it do?”

Bella pressed an almost imperceptible button on top and the black popped out to reveal tracks. “It’s a prototype I’m developing,” she explained. “Gravity and surfaces are strange on extraterrestrial planets, so I’m working to calibrate the grip of the tracks to work on more surfaces, you see…” Victor-Hecate, baffled by her explanation, followed her gaze around the room – everyone who was listening wore a similar expression. None of them truly understood her description of the robot.

Juni leaned in, running her finger along the smooth surface. Her expression melted from confusion to curiosity. “It looks so cool, but… can you explain it in easier terms?”

Steeling herself and nodding, Bella tried again. “Right. Sorry. It would probably be easier just to show you.” She pulled out her phone, opening a completely foreign app. Tapping the screen a few times, the bot spun on her hand, seeming to gain its bearings. She laid it on the bed and it immediately traversed across the covers. To a chorus of gasps, it crawled up the wall, shifting easily from rough plaster to a smooth poster of the Coliseum and back again, before finally settling on the roof. Juni bounced up and down in excitement, cooing over Bella’s project.

Victor-Hecate’s gaze locked on the cube, moving to sit cross-legged, their mouth dropped open. “So, I’m guessing this is what you do? Like, your dream job, considering…” They waved their arm vaguely at the sleek white square on the bedroom roof and the well-loved NASA hoodie the shy girl was wearing.

“Yeah, it is,” Bella said. She nodded slowly, hesitantly. She pressed the screen again, and the strip of light went out. It dropped from the ceiling, Juni shrieking as it fell, which brought Violetta out of the jungle of the closet. It landed safely on the bed, bouncing slightly.

Letting go of Bella’s hand and placing her own to her chest, Juni recovered from the shock. “That is so cool!” she finally managed. “Have you named it?”

“No.” Bella blushed, seeming ashamed. “You know I don’t do that sort of thing. I leave it up to you,” she mumbled. Using her newly freed hand, she picked up the unassuming cube and stashed it back into her toolbelt. After clasping it shut, her expression softened as she saw Juni with a look of contemplation, taking her new job seriously. She glanced around, trying to read and process the mood of the room. “But this isn’t about my stuff. It’s about Victor-Hecate.”

“You really don’t have to use my whole name.”

Bella shrugged a little, brushing off the comment. “Since we’re trying to make sure they-” She paused, glancing anxiously at Victor-Hecate, who shrugged. “-won’t get in trouble anymore, I’d like to offer some advice. I suggest acclimating yourself to wearing fewer layers,” Bella said. She rolled up her sleeves, fidgeting as she talked. “Based on your body language, I’d assume you’re pretty comfortable here, so perhaps you can take off a few layers to learn to be more comfortable without them. Besides,” she said, giving up on folding back her sleeves and taking off the jacket entirely to combat the heat, revealing a muted cyan t-shirt underneath. “Don’t you find it hot here?”

Victor-Hecate blanched, cursing the shy girl’s perceptiveness. While she had good intentions, and they were mostly comfortable in the group of girls, they were still aware of the danger the others brought into the room. Frantically, Victor-Hecate fumbled for an excuse to keep their layers on.

Before they could come up with an idea, Violetta whipped around, her face alight with excitement. “Ooh, yeah! That way we can figure out how to build the outfit from there!”

“Only if you want to, Cat,” Aster said quickly.

Bella blinked, a little startled at the nickname casually thrown out.

“I’d rather not,” replied Victor-Hecate, their lips quirking up at the nickname.

“Why not?” blurted Bella, before clapping a hand over her mouth and going red. Her tense expression softened as Juni squeezed her hand before turning to face Victor-Hecate again, suggesting softly, “At least take off your hat?”

Victor-Hecate resisted the urge to put a hand to their chest to ground themself. Working to regulate their breathing, they finally managed to protest desperately, “I might have hat hair.”

Violetta’s expression was tender as she fruitlessly tried to reassure her cousin, “Nobody’s going to judge you, don't worry, Vee.”

“Fine,” they sighed. Mulling over the situation, they decided to go the whole way; they unwrapped their scarf, folding it on the bed beside them. Tugging off their beanie, their hair tumbled out, sticking out at odd angles. A little bitter that their cousin pushed for their change, they pelted the beanie at her. Under everyone’s eyes, Victor-Hecate shifted awkwardly, uncomfortable with the attention they weren’t used to.

Juni squealed. “Oh, your hair is so pretty!” Abandoning Bella, she leaned closer to Victor-Hecate, reaching to brush a strand of hair out of their face and tuck it behind their ear.

Victor-Hecate scrambled backward too late, their back hitting the wall just as Juni’s hand brushed their ear and lingered. Their chest exploded with pain. Their heart felt like it was about to burst, ready to fill their torso with shrapnel. It beat at a million miles an hour, pounding their blood past their ears, muffling the sound in the room, drowning out their cousin’s scream. Their breathing shallowed, and they struggled to calm down; they had experienced countless deaths before, but this was one of the worst. Taking a ragged breath, sucking in as much air as they could, they twisted the hem of their jacket, trying to recover as much as they could with Juni now clutching their head concernedly. Their chest still aching, they surveyed the room – Aster was clutching Violetta, who looked queasy and unsteady on her feet, Bella was peeking over Juni’s shoulder, a look of intrigue lighting up her face, and Juni was bent over them, terror etching her features.

Watching Victor-Hecate’s eyes clear a little, Juni pushed down her panic and started ordering the others around. “Okay, guys, someone call 911, and, uh, Vi, can you grab some aspirin? And–”

“No,” choked out Victor-Hecate. They pushed down a cough as they ran out of air. “Don’t! Please don’t call an ambulance. I don’t need it. I’m begging you. And could you–” They cut off with a shout as pain surged again. Their chest seized, leaving them momentarily unable to breathe. Panting, they clawed at their chest, desperate for the pain to stop but helpless to do anything.

“No,” echoed Aster. She tugged at Juni’s arm, but the usually sunny girl stayed put, concerned for their host, whose screams had stopped as their shallow breaths prevented any sound besides wheezing. Breaking free of Aster’s grip, she pulled at their still covered arms, trying to stop them from hurting themself further. Aster’s half-baked continuation trickled past the pain to Victor-Hecate, “It’s- god, it’s really hard to explain, but basically they aren’t in danger. It’s just their power.”

Bella’s eyes glittered with a thirst for knowledge, her voice steeped in curiosity, “Their power?”

Aster looked around the room helplessly before locking eyes with Victor-Hecate. Keeping their gaze on her, they shook their head. Not now. Aster huffed, seeming to respect their wish, despite not understanding it. “I- It’s their place to tell you, not mine.”

Victor-Hecate tried their best to smile through the pain at Aster. Suddenly, they gasped as their heart squeezed. They reached for Juni’s arm, intending to try to pull it off, but as Juni cupped their cheek, trying to reassure them, pain spiked, and their hand dropped with a muffled thump against their agony-wracked chest. Misinterpreting the action, Juni reached for their hand, only to be caught by Aster. Staring right back at Juni’s judgmental glare, Aster said, “I can't explain, but touching them isn’t- it isn’t good.”

“Are you sure?” Bella questioned skeptically, Juni nodding with her. “I would think they need comfort right now.”

Clutching Aster’s arm, Violetta leaned over the darker dressed girl to get a better view of her cousin. “You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, concerned.

Victor-Hecate yearned to reply, to comfort Violetta. They tried to nod but failed as pain flared up again, and they curled in on themself. Violetta let out a sob, leaning into Aster’s reassuring touch as she wrapped an arm around the distraught girl. Curiosity getting the better of her, Bella hopped off the edge of the bed to examine the prone figure rolled up like a pill bug on their pillow. As she leaned in, her hand brushed Victor-Hecate’s fingertips. Immediately, they flinched away, a biting cold surging out from the point of contact, mixing unpleasantly with the already squeezing pain in their chest.

With a pointed look at Bella, Aster levelly pleaded, “Let’s just give them a bit of space, okay?”

Reluctantly, Juni moved away from Victor-Hecate, hugging Bella for comfort. The quartet watched with bated breath for the now black-eyed vigilante to still. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain ebbed. Their chest eased, their heart rate returned to normal and their breathing deepened. Sitting up sooner than they should have, Victor-Hecate almost collapsed again as pain twinged on the left side of their chest. Their dark complexion was paler than usual as they propped themself up against the wall.

“Thank you,” they managed breathlessly.

Violetta’s forehead wrinkled, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. “Vee, I don’t- What happened?”

Victor-Hecate sighed, picking at the now rumpled scarf beside them, but resisting the urge to put it on. They traced the dark grey lines of the scarf design, unable to meet their cousin’s eyes as they softly spoke, “That's why I stopped talking with you.” They looked up, trying to gauge her reaction. “That’s my power.”

“Yes, but what is it?” Bella seemed to hold her tongue after the question spilled out. Based on her speaking patterns so far, a hundred questions waited behind that one. When Victor-Hecate stayed silent, Bella exclaimed, “It was incredible!” She cleared her throat awkwardly, reigning in her enthusiasm. “Incredibly interesting, that is. Your irises went completely black, which is fascinating.” She cocked her head, looking over Victor-Hecate again, who shrank a little under her inquisitive gaze. “You have almost completely recovered from whatever just occurred. Please, please explain it.”

Fixing their gaze on the scarf once more, they reluctantly explained, unwilling to keep them in the dark any longer. Rumors could spell more trouble than the truth. “I feel whatever pain you will feel when you die. It only happens while I’m being touched, so that's why…” They waved their arm vaguely at the scarf and wardrobe full of disturbed bulky coats and beanies. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just... didn’t want you to think less of me. Especially since you,” Victor-Hecate said, glancing toward Violetta, “have a functioning, helpful power, but I’m just stuck with this.” They gestured to themself before letting their arm drop, defeated.

“Oh, that’s awful! I- I’m so sorry,” Violetta said. Victor-Hecate lifted their gaze, hopeful. Violetta didn’t sound horrified, just concerned.

Juni held a hand over her mouth, echoing Violetta’s sentiment. “I- I feel so bad- I didn’t mean to touch you earlier, I swear–”

Victor-Hecate waved their hand, dismissing her apology. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean to hurt me.” They rubbed her knee comfortingly, the fabric of the dress soft under their fingers. “You only wanted to help. Though I’d like to know, what was that? I haven’t really felt that type of pain before. My best guess is some kind of heart failure, but...” They trailed off, worried they’d pried too much.

Juni’s eyes widened in terror. “I…” She shrank back a bit, nestling into Bella’s hug, closing her eyes. “I do have heart problems, and I guess– I guess they come back later.”

Bella pulled Juni a bit tighter, resting her chin on the darker girl’s shoulder. She let out a puff of air, giving up on holding back her questions. “And me?”

Victor-Hecate shook their head. “It was too quick to get any kind of specifics. It was cold. That’s all I know.” They cast a cursory glance at Violetta, who still stood close to Aster, their hands interlocked. “Do you want to know?”

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, waves of rich brown hair falling on either side of her shoulders. “No. I- I can’t–” She leaned onto Aster again, squeezing her hand for comfort.

“I understand. And…” Victor-Hecate struggled to keep their expression and voice neutral. Although they understood the horror the others’ were feeling, it still hurt coming from family. Looking around the room again, they swallowed audibly. “…I get it if you want to leave. My power’s unsettling. I know that.”

“No, no, no! Don’t worry, I’m- it was just... a bit shocking at first,” Violetta hastily protested. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Me neither,” affirmed Juni. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your power, it’s part of who you are! And maybe we can help in some way.”

Bella nodded enthusiastically, still biting back questions. Catching Victor-Hecate’s gaze, she slipped her left hand behind her back, a flash of white they hadn’t noticed before snagging their eye.

Brushing off the slight confusion, Victor-Hecate relaxed a little, a relieved smile gracing their face. “Thank you.” They rubbed their arm sheepishly. “And some wardrobe help would be appreciated. I really don’t want to get stopped at school again.”

Bella tapped her chin thoughtfully, tilting her head back to get a better view of the multicolored leotards knocked askew from the back of the wardrobe. “Have you considered a full skin-colored leotard?”

“I have, but it’s a pretty strange request and is probably expensive as heck,” they replied.

Bella chuckled. “I think I know someone who knows just the person.” She side-eyed Juni and lightly squeezed the sunny girl’s shoulders.

Juni’s eyes lit up, catching the hint just a few seconds later. “My girlfriend would be happy to buy some new clothes! Nyx- she, uh, she wants to get back at her dad and everything, so she doesn’t mind spending his money at all.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind at all,” Bella agreed, relishing in her friend’s excitement. It was her first genuine smile of the day, besides the ones fueled by curiosity.

Victor-Hecate considered the offer before accepting the idea. “Cool. When do you think we can meet up? And where does she live?”

Juni smiled sweetly and pulled out her phone, “Ooh, well, I’ll text her–”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know already,” Bella cut in. “She’s free this Friday, provided her douche of a father doesn’t spring anything on her.” She grimaced in sympathy.

Victor-Hecate sat forward on the bed, placing their hands on their knees. “Perfect, I guess. Will she have enough space for all of us?”

“Vee,” Violetta tutted, smiling triumphantly, humor glimmering in her eyes. “If you thought my house was big, then you are not prepared for the size of her mansion."

Characters (in order for appearance): Victor-Hecate, Aster, Violetta, Juni, Bella

#ahaaaa that was a lot #original character #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #anabella silvette #juni #violetta #aster #victor-hecate #writersociety #short story #not-a-damsel in distress series #fusion au #lgbtqia+ community #because what's the point in writing if at least one person isn't part of that

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dirtydobrik · 5 years

Text

flirtatious - d.d.

plot: you jokingly flirt with Jeff for David’s vlog, not realizing that both Jeff and David have a crush on you

requested: yes! i received two different requests about essentially the same concept: 1. David dobrik and Jeff secretly likes the reader and jokingly flirts w her for the vlog and the fans ship them more than David and David gets jealous if you’re down:) and 2. Could you write a fan fic where Jeff and the reader are always flirting and David secretly likes her but no one knows and it ends w them getting together

author’s note: hi! this was requested anonymously so hopefully it was something similar to what you wanted. if you want to send in a request for an imagine, send me a message! (i have been so behind on requests lately but i am trying to get caught up. i’m trying to post 1-2 times a day so people don’t have to wait ages for me to write their requests)

word count: 1430

masterlist

"You can sit back here," Jeff grinned as you climbed into David's Tesla, searching for a place to sit since David liked to cram too many people into his car. You smiled at Jeff and squeezed into the back seat between Jeff and Matt. What you didn't notice was the smile fall from David's face when he looked in his rearview mirror and saw you sitting in Jeff's lap and him whispering to you.

One of your arms was draped around Jeff's neck to keep yourself from falling over, but from David's perspective, it looked like you were flirting with him.

You and Jeff talked between yourselves the entire drive to the party, completely unaware of David's glances. The conversation was mildly flirtatious, but that was just your personality. You had no intention of things ever escalating between you and Jeff.

"David's recording," Jeff whispered into your ear, "Let's play up this flirting for his vlog." You thought about it for a split second before agreeing, thinking that it would give David good content and there was nothing he liked more than content.

Throughout the night, you stayed by Jeff's side. Your hand was always touching somewhere on him, even when David's camera wasn't on, and you could sense anger from David, although you didn't know why. You laughed at the things Jeff said and ran your fingers through his hair.

As the night went on you noticed David was always hoovering close to you two, his camera always near you.

"Wanna get out of here?" he whispered into your ear, noticing David pointing his camera at you. You nodded, and he grabbed your hand to pull you through the crowd of people and towards the front door. David was recording the entire thing and you didn’t know what to do next.

You sat on the steps waiting for an Uber since David had driven you and all of your friends here, Jeff's arm was around your shoulder. You were resting your head on his chest when you heard the front door open. You turned your head and was suddenly blinded by a bright light, David's phone flashlight. You blinked as he quickly put his phone down.

"What are you guys doing out here?" he asked, his voice was quiet and frail.

"Waiting for an Uber," you answered.

David raised his phone flashlight and his camera up, recording you guys. "And where exactly are you going?"

"Back to Jeff's. I'm thinking we might hook up tonight," you shrugged, Jeff nodding in agreement.

"So what's going on between you two? You guys couldn't keep your hands off of each other all night." You could hear jealousy in David's voice, and you couldn't help by wonder why.

"Uber's here," Jeff muttered, helping you up.

"See you tomorrow, Dave," you smiled, giving him a small wave. He watched you slide into the car with Jeff and wanted to scream. He couldn’t believe you were going home with Jeff, even though you had been openly flirting all night.

"So," Jeff said, turning to face you. "Do you actually want to hook up? Or were you just playing it up for David's vlog?"

"For the vlog," you answered, and Jeff's face fell. The realization hit you all at once. Both Jeff and David were interested in you.

"Oh," he said quietly. You could hear the same pain in his voice that you heard in David's earlier tonight.

"Jeff, it was your idea," you hissed, annoyed that he was offended and upset because you played into his idea to flirt all night for David's vlog.

"You were flirting even when David wasn't recording," he argued and you sighed. You were a few drinks in before even leaving for the party so of course you were going to be flirty, you were flirty with everyone when you were drunk.

You ended up crashing at Jeff's since you were too tired to wait up for another Uber to take you home. You woke up to your phone blowing up from David posting his vlog. He used a few clips of you and Jeff pretending to flirt, or rather, Jeff flirting with you and you pretending to flirt back, and the clip of you saying you were going back to Jeff's to hook up and then a shot of you two getting into the Uber together.

People were tweeting about it, saying you two would be a cute couple. You saw a few people arguing about whether you'd be cuter with David or Jeff and you wondered what they both thought about it. Jeff sent you a text that he left to go hiking this morning and you didn't bother changing out of the t-shirt of his you had slept in, you just pulled your jeans on. You told David yesterday that you'd bring him Chipotle for lunch since he usually liked to talk to you about the feedback for his vlog to brainstorm which bits could be used again and what wasn't the best idea to include.

You went back to your place, not bothering to wait for Jeff to come back. You needed to change your shoes out of heels and you wanted to wash your face, but you didn't think twice about wearing Jeff's t-shirt over to David's. You grabbed your purse and car keys and texted Dave that you were on your way over after you picked up the Chipotle.

You pushed the front door open, finding David on the couch, as usual. He hopped up to say hi, the huge smile on his face from seeing the bag of Chipotle in your hand quickly falling when he noticed Jeff's shirt. You put the Chipotle down on the table and walked towards the couch.

"Oh, you actually went home with him," he said, his voice wavering.

"I mean I crashed at his place last night but nothing happened. He slept on the couch," you tried to reassure him, but he wasn't buying it.

"I figured you just said you were going there for my vlog. I didn't think you'd actually stay there."

"Is there a problem with me staying at one of my friend's houses for the night?" you questioned, feeling your blood begin to boil.

"No, no, no," David defended, his voice high pitched.

"Okay. Good to know that it's just a problem when I stay at Jeff's." You rolled your eyes, unbelievably annoyed that you were even having this conversation. "I mean Jeff doesn't have a problem when I stay here for the night so I don’t understand why you care so much about me sleeping at Jeff's."

"I don’t have a problem with it. I just figured you were actually going back to your apartment and you said Jeff's for my vlog."

"Speaking of your vlog, I saw some comments on it. People are going crazy for me and Jeff. They think we'd be cute together," you smirked, trying to get him angry.

"They ship Jeff with every girl he talks to. Don't worry, you aren’t special." He sounded cocky, like he was trying to make himself believe it, but you knew the fact that people liked you and Jeff more than you and him was driving him crazy. He was jealous but too afraid to admit it.

"But Jeff doesn’t have a crush on every girl he talks to and I'm pretty sure he has a crush on me." David's jaw dropped and his eyes widened at your words.

"He likes you?"

"He asked me last night in the Uber if I actually wanted to hook up with him and got upset when I said I didn't," you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wait, you rejected him?" he asked, intrigued and confused.

"Yeah, I only like him as a friend. The flirting last night was just for you to get vlog footage."

"So if Jeff's out of the picture, then I have no reason to be jealous?"

"Why would you be jealous?" you asked innocently, pretending to have no idea what was going on.

"Oh, uh, no reason," he stuttered, and you noticed his cheeks turning a rosy red.

"David." You stared at him, waiting for him to confess.

"I was jealous of Jeff because I like you and I thought you were into him," he blurted out.

"I suppose it’s a good thing I'm not into Jeff, since I like you, too."

"You do?" You nodded.

“Want to go on a date sometime?” he asked, and you smiled, giving him another nod. You inched closer to him, pulling him for a hug.

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leggomylino · 5 years

Text

Glasses | yandere!mafia!jaemin

Genre: yandere, mafia au, a bit fluffy(?), action, and ofc a sprinkle of comedy Pairing: yandere!mafia!jaemin x reader Word count: ~3.3k Warning(s): mild language (censored), mildly dark psychological themes, hinted suggestive content, violence, mentions of blood Song: Glasses by I.U. A/N: requests are open~ | Masterlist in BIO! | what else can I say except I hope you enjoy yeehaw <3

[10:34 pm]

You knew this was wrong. You’d known for the longest time now; but you didn’t want to.

It was too late, however. The moment you picked up the glasses, and tried them on for the first time...seeing things from an entirely new perspective, for what it really was, the reality of it all...seeing things through these lenses...it was time for it to stop.

You’d thought Jaemin was safe. That he was your shelter. That everything he was doing was for your benefit, for your protection.

It wasn’t. It was for his.

So tonight was the night you were doing it. Tonight was the night you were taking back what he stole from you.

“Such a good girl…” Jaemin cooed, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. You’d gotten used enough to it by now, able to swallow down the shivers that previously would crawl up your spine and had one day caused you to lash out at the pretty-faced boy. Let’s just say that wasn’t your best day; you still winced in fear just thinking about the dark clouds that rolled over his face, how he’d treated you like you were an enemy to both him and yourself.

But that was all in the past, behind you now. Because today was the day you were finally going to make your escape...you’d be a caged bird no longer.

Jaemin was just finishing up his nightly routine of petting your face and admiring your features before heading off to bed, or whatever the heck it was he did at night. You waited patiently and quietly for him to finish before he turned out the light, tromping up the stairs.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered before closing the door. He waited a moment, but you didn’t say anything back to him.

This seemed to make him more than a little angry. “I said, good night, my love.”

“......”

He huffed under his breath, beginning to come back down. You sucked in yours, holding it a moment before squeaking out the words he wanted to hear, so he’d keep his distance.

“Good night! Good...Good night.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, the tone in his voice was enough as he mumbled more things under his breath, half-storming out of the room in a grumpy fuss. Whatever. You honestly didn’t care if you hurt his feelings or not. He was the one who’d kidnapped you; he was the one responsible for keeping you locked up in a 24 x 32 foot room, with a small attached bathroom and an actual pin for when you were “acting out” and “needed to be tamed.”

You shivered at the thought of the first time it’d happened...and all the other times as well.

But soon all of that would be a waking afterthought; not even, for tonight you were officially rising from six feet under to tell the world you were still alive and there was a crazy person on the loose, walking amongst them right under their noses.

Quickly you rose from your bed the moment you were sure the coast was clear and Jaemin was long gone for the evening, scurrying over to your bookshelf and opening the fourth book down, fifth one across to exactly page 312, where the rest of the book had been cut in (with safety scissors, which was no easy task) to reveal a small role of parchment paper you’d been saving from meals brought down to you daily, just tearing away bits and pieces and later taping them all together to be one long map of your escape plan. You laid it out on the desk, going over everything one last time before you burned the gosh darn...well, really, flushed it down the toilet.

Your eyes scanned the page carefully, taking in everything: the basement, the house layout, the surrounding streets. There was the tiniest slit of window that had been sealed off, but you’d just managed to climb on top of stacked objects about a week ago to peek out and catch a glimpse at a street sign not too far off, telling you that Jaemin had to live in a neighborhood on the corner.

Okay. Time to make sure your emergency survival pack was ready, taking with you as much evidence as you thought you’d need when you reported this situation to the police. You hurried to your bathroom, opening the small cabinet beneath the sink and pushed everything aside to reveal another small compartment, lifting the door and hauling out the bag you’d carried when Jaemin had first taken you.

You had no idea why he let you keep it, and only removed a few things inside it: a safety alarm, a keychain of pepper spray, and an actual decent pair of scissors from your pencil bag. Maybe he thought having things familiar around would help comfort you, so you could adjust faster.

How wrong he’d been, now that you were seeing clearly. Tonight, you were so out of here.

Thank goodness he’d never asked to see any of your stuff again. You were pretty sure he’d forgotten about it by now, given that you had to be coming up on your three month anniversary.

...Anniversary? Really, y/n? Ugh.

This wasn’t a holiday. You’d be celebrating the moment you busted out of this joint.

Strapping your bag around your bodice and tying one of Jaemin’s flannel shirts around your waist (as much as you hated doing so, it was necessary), you headed back to the desk, swiping the stuck-together pieces of parchment paper and with a satisfied reassuring nod to yourself, flushed them down the drain, saluting as they swirled down to thank them for their service to you. Because you really couldn’t have done any of this without them. Then you ran out of there and climbed up the stairs to the door you’d never seen the outside of.

You tried the door handle, just for the heck of it. Of course, not to your surprise, it was locked.

As expected. No biggie. Onto Phase Two. With a grunt you wrestled beneath all the junk in your bag to get out a few tied-together paperclips, jamming them into the—

...There was no lock. No keyhole. The handle was completely solid, gleaming back in the faintest trickle of moonlight from the cracked slit of sealed-off bulletproof window as if to mock you.

Son of a b*tch.

You wanted to scream. This was not happening...it wasn’t! Augh, now what?! Seriously, why you? How had you not noticed this before…?!?

The doorknob suddenly jiggled. You hadn’t heard any footsteps coming toward it.

Sh*t sh*t sh*t.

You turned around to run back down the stairs and fling yourself into bed, but it was too late. Jaemin already caught you standing there, suspiciously closer than you should have been and oddly out of place.

“Baby girl? What are you doing out of bed?”

“...” You gulped, trying to get your nerves under control. You were really starting to lose it here. “...I...I uh—“ ...Then you got an idea. You smiled kindly, turning back around to face him fully. “I wanted to see you. I missed you. I was...lonely.”

Ew. This was going to be hard to forgive yourself for later; especially since a small part of you still cared about him, still wanted to trust him.

Jaemin returned your smile, slipping the rest of the way in and closed the door behind him. “You were? Already?” He laughed. “Aw, Princess, it’s okay. I get lonely too sometimes, when I’m away from you. More like always.”

You took two steps back for every step forward he took, backing yourself into a corner at the foot of the stairs. He smiled down at you like a predator cornering it’s prey.

“Say, tell you what…” He swiped his tongue over his lips, and you got a bad feeling in your gut. “Since you’re obviously not very tired...how about we—“

“Jaemin!!”

You both looked up toward the sound. Jaemin didn’t say anything, merely glared in a half-startled, half-annoyed expression.

“Jaemin, where are you?” the voice continued to call. “There’s been an emergency at the last location. Hyuck and Jeno need you.”

“......” With a mumbling curse the man stomped his way back up the stairs, pausing midway to look down at you over his shoulder. “We’ll finish this later. I have some...business to attend to. Wait for me,” he added with a wink, before practically slamming the door shut.

Sheesh. That was a close call. Way to go, y/n.

Shaking your head at yourself you gazed around the room, observing your other options.

Except that there were none. You were completely, hopelessly, utterly—

Another door slammed shut from somewhere far off, causing the whole house to shake; and then, the basement door just...opened.

You couldn’t believe your luck. It was almost too easy, like some sort of dirty trick.

Unfortunately you were desperate, so it was just going to have to be a risk you were willing to take. You shimmied your way out of that door without a second thought.

Except once you stepped foot in the hall, you found yourself wishing you had of had second thoughts, because the halls were big. And long. And confusing. Everything looked the same, the halls never came to an end and were winding as heck, and you were quickly running out of time, patience, and energy.

And then someone you didn’t recognize turned around the corner.

It was a teenage boy with bright cherry-red hair. He had an innocent smile but a mischievous look in his eye, as if a cursory glance wasn’t enough to reveal all he was cracked up to be. He wore a nice-pressed stylish outfit that accented all his best features...which had to be just about every part of him. He was an insanely cute kid.

“Oh! Hi!” he greeted, rushing over to you.

Crap crap crap…

It was too late to make a run for it. You gave him your best innocent I’m totally lost smile.

“Hey…”

He beamed, but his face still managed to appear a little urgent. “Are you okay?! We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

“For...For me…?”

It was honestly hard to find anything to say at all, given that the only person you’d had any contact with for the past three months was Jaemin. Seeing another living breathing human being in the flesh was giving you a bit of...culture shock, for lack of a better word.

The stranger nodded, then paused briefly to tilt his head to the side. “You are...y/n, aren’t you?”

“......”

Should you tell him the truth? You didn’t know. Jaemin had warned you about bad people in this world...which is why he insisted on locking you away, and when you’d refused, he took you by force...but…

But he had lied. He was a dirty, unbalance liar. And that was so three months ago…

“Y-Yes, I’m y/n.”

The boy smiled like a cunning fox. “Oh, thank goodness I found you, then. If you come with me, I can get you out of here. We have a car waiting out back.”

“A...car?”

“Yeah. You want to get out of here, don’t you?”

Of course you wanted out. How could you refuse? So in all your spite, you hastily took his hand, which he seemed a little apprehensive about holding back, and he led you through the winding halls and out the doorway.

The moment the night air hit your face for the first time, it took your breath away. It was so cool and refreshing, so liberating, you felt like you could swim around within the starry skies all night long, and the night after that, and the next one.

“Finally,” a raspy voice greeted from inside the vehicle. He pushed open the door, scooting back the next second to make room and help you inside.

A temperamental brown-haired man was tapping his thumbs anxiously against the wheel in the driver's seat, a freckled face boy slouched back next to him, scrolling through his phone.

An actual phone. You hadn’t seen one of those in...what felt like years.

“Hurry up,” the driver hissed, looking back anxiously over his shoulder and then toward the house. “Did anyone see you leaving?”

“Did you hear any gunshots?” the redhead shot back. Grumpy narrowed his eyes.

“Hey. Watch it. I was just asking.”

“Well quit doing that and just drive already. Don’t forget you promised me a swing.”

A swing? …

You were about to ask what the heck that was all about when suddenly there was a loud pop! outside, followed by another one, then more. Everybody ducked for cover, and the brunette up front hit the gas...but the car hardly went anywhere.

“Sh*t!” he cursed, yanking out a...was that a…?

He’d yanked out a gun. All of them did.

You suddenly found yourself longing for the security and dull lifestyle of the sunless basement.

“Get down!” the cherry boy ordered, shoving you to the floor of the van. You squeaked and did as told, though it’s not like you really had much say in the matter.

Grumpy growled, cocking his weapon and aiming it out the shattered window. “I thought you said no one saw you!” he hissed. Cherry sighed, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

“I-I told you I didn’t see anyone! I cleared the entire house with Seungmin just like you asked!”

“Well you obviously did a terrible job! And Seungmin’s not even here, what are you talking about?!”

The younger boy sniffled, his voice cracking around the edges. “H-He hacked into the security cams...I--”

“Sheesh, lay off already Minho, this is his first time on the job.” The freckled boy spoke. He looked to be the most innocent of the bunch, yet sounded the most intimidating. “We all make mistakes our first time around--”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Minho barked. “You--”

“Hey!! Leave my partner alone!” ordered the shorter raspy-voiced one. “You’re the one that chose to park out here in the open like this!”

“We’re not in the open! Are you blind?! Do you not see all the damn trees outside?!?” He waved an overemphasized hand in the air, cursing as a bullet whizzed by and almost gave him a new piercing. He grumbled then, firing back a few rounds. “...I’m the one with the license, how many times do I have to tell you not to be a backseat driver?”

“Ugh, you’re such a killjoy...sh*t, we should have signed up for raiding the BTS hideout.” Raspy spoke to his partner. “Hyunjin and Jisung really got the better deal this time...”

His partner scoffed, shaking his head. “Agreed--”

The back windows exploded as a round of automatics blew up the glass, and the youngest redhead squeaked, throwing himself down and nearly dropping his gun.

Enough for you to grab it.

You don’t know what took over you in that second, but with little more than a fleeting thought you kicked once, twice, three times until the back doors flew open, throwing yourself out in the process. You heard the redhead screeching behind you, followed by shouts from the others as well, but you didn’t stop to look back or listen to what they had to say. You were getting out of here, for real this time.

But in your high of adrenaline you failed to realize it was a battlefield you were potentially throwing yourself in the middle of, and that was enough for your survival instincts to kick in and make you freeze, panic-stricken in both heart and mind.

Especially because in the next second, you found Jaemin standing right in front of you.

“Y/n!” he nearly yelled, out of breath and drenched in a layer of sweat. He was way more than a little angry this time. “What the hell are you doing out here?! How did you get outside?!?”

You didn’t have time for his stupid dumb questions, or to just be standing around like a target. Shakily, you rose the gun in your hand before you, gripping the cushioned handle tightly. You aimed it right at his heart.

Jaemin’s eyes went wide, then settled down to something subtle and almost lifeless, gray clouds forming on the horizon that casted a shadow over his face. He didn’t move an inch. “Y/n...put the gun down. Now.”

“......” You didn’t listen. Hesitantly, you released the safety. Jaemin flinched ever so slightly, though he tried to contain it.

“Y/n, please. I’m not going to hurt you. I only want what’s best for you. I warned you, didn’t I? That there were bad people in this world that were after you? ...They’re after me, really. They want me dead, y/n. And the best way for them to get under my skin is through you.”

“......” You’re hands were shaking more and more visibly at this point, to where you were barely able to keep the gun trained in one place-- it was everywhere, jumping from his face, his shoulder, his bicep. You swallowed hard, working relentlessly to keep the tears from pooling in your eyes and blinding you once again to the reality before you, putting you under a false lens of a made-up reality that Jaemin actually cared about you, that he was really safe, that he wanted what was best for you. A world he had crafted himself.

Do it, y/n. Just shoot already! He’s a liar! You can’t go back to being holed up in a basement for the rest of your life…!

A shot rang out that could be heard from miles away; it sounded distant, but in reality it was happening right in front of you.

Jaemin took a deep, ragged breath, lowering the smoking gun in his hand. A few seconds later you heard a body drop to the grassy wooded floor.

“MINHO!!!” Cherryboy screamed, tromps of footsteps filling up the back of your mind. You turned trembling hands and quivering lips behind you, where the one named Minho laid out on the ground, blood leaking from a wound on his chest. He coughed up more blood, cursing between each upheaval.

“I...sh*t, I’m fine...just...uhn…”

He fell over whilst trying to stand, and the other three boys were at his side in an instant, then soon surrounded by more men in similar attire to Jaemin’s. A brush of fingers wisped against your shoulder, and you nearly screeched as you whirled to face the present danger, wrapping your arms around yourself, the gun falling at your feet.

Except there wasn’t any danger to be found. It was only Jaemin.

Not scary, psychotic, manipulative Jaemin. The Jaemin you once knew a long time ago, the one with soft eyes and blurred edges and a fragile, caring heart.

He had been right. He really had only wanted what was best for you. For the both of you; because you knew, or now realized, that Jaemin had and always would be a part of you. Your roots were here, with him.

You cried. Sobbed uncontrollably until the tears refused to stop falling, and Jaemin caught each and everyone, holding you tightly and securely in his strong, sheltering arms.

“Hey...shhh...it’s okay, now,” he whispered, brushing back your hair as you cried. He tilted your face up to look at him after a few moments, once the bad people who’d almost taken you to probably another basement or who knows where had been hauled away, smiling down you agilely. “I told you, didn’t I? This world isn’t safe. Please, let me protect you. I want to take care of you.”

“......” With shaky breath you nodded, slowly, gently allowing yourself to be cradled back into that false reality you were now finding to be true.

He smiled and helped you back inside, through the kitchen and down the maze of halls towards the basement. As you walked, your arm brushed up against a pair of glasses that soon after fell off the counter, the lenses shattering to the floor.

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dunloth · 5 years

Text

Lost underneath the mud

A little silly gift for @magnustesla. Happy fic-versary! 💗🎈✨I hope you’ll celebrate many more years of writing yummy fanfiction and being so nice to fandom colleagues. 🍀🍁🌻

“Kakashi-san, you will have to rewrite this. Section B2 is missing, and I can hardly see what you wrote under all this grit. What’s this in the Lost Equipment section? A drawing of a dog?” Iruka sounded mildly annoyed.

“Oh, I can fix that. Just let me… A second…”

Kakashi carefully grabbed the pitiful mission report sheets from Iruka’s hands. Well, he tried to grab them, but Iruka gripped them tightly and didn’t let go. A few droplets of dirty water landed on the desk.

“What are you doing?” Iruka’s proverbial forehead vein was already bulging. It threatened to bulge even more.

“Ah, nothing. I just wanted to fix a little the Lost Equipment part.” Kakashi jerked the papers out of Iruka’s hands and placed them on the desk in front of him. “Here,” he pulled on the wrist of his right uniform sleeve, wet from his recent mission —it was a rainy day—, and proceeded to rub the cloth over the already messed report to try to remove some of the mud in it. Especially in the Lost Equipment section.

It wasn’t improving the general state of the papers.

“Kakashi, stop,” Iruka barked, grabbing Kakashi’s hand. “Go home, clean up and rewrite your report. Bring it back before tomorrow.”

Iruka suddenly noticed that the volume of the background noise in the mission room had drastically dropped down. He looked beyond Kakashi and found that most of the shinobi around were pretending very hard not to look at Kakashi and him.

Iruka frowned at them, transmitting his best non-verbal ‘What the hell are you looking at?,’ and every shinobi in the room who valued having all their shinobi bits in their right place hurried to go back to whatever they were doing before Kakashi and Iruka’s interaction started.

Kakashi was smiling his infuriating fake eye smile. “Maa, sensei, don’t get angry. I’ll do what you say. I’ll go home, and write a new, clean report for you, okay?”

“You’d better,” Iruka mumbled. “Right, Kakashi-san. Thank you for your work.” The courtesy formula was a bit strained. After Kakashi left the room, his sandals making squelching sounds, Iruka’s temper was almost back to normal. That is, to normal when he was not dealing with Kakashi.

‘We’ll have some words when I get home. I hope he doesn’t get mud everywhere, like last week. If I have to clean the bedroom carpet again-’

Iruka’s inner ramblings stopped dry when he saw the soggy sheets of Kakashi’s report innocently standing on his desk.

His forehead vein reappeared in all its glory. “What the f-”

And then he saw the picture in the Lost Equipment section, cleared from the mud that covered it.

It wasn’t a dog. It was a very lame, very cute picture of a chibi scarecrow holding a stuffed dolphin. A scrawled text under the picture said “I’m LOST without my Ru.”

Iruka cleared his throat, keeping his expression neutral, and fought the wave of warmth that filled his chest and tried to set his face on fire.

‘And that’s why I never can stay angry at him,’ he thought, and as many times before he felt the luckiest person in the world.

The end of his turn couldn’t come fast enough.

#gift for MagnusTesla #KakaIru #Kakashi #Iruka #Naruto #my fics

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marbledaesthetics · 4 years

Text

Only on Principal | afi | part i

pairing: ashton x ofc

warnings: angst, fake (semi-coerced?) relationships, pining, swearing, slow burn, sexualization (kind of?)

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i’ve actually been holding on to this piece for awhile because i didn’t know if i was going to publish in it parts or as one long fic, but decided that i should really post something, so here it is. updates will probably be irregular, because i don’t have the next part finished or edited, but i promise that updates will come! also, getting this moodboard was a bitch because i kept screwing up the file type

part ii

~~~

“Why are we doing this again?” Ashton was slouched in his chair, a hand tugging on the back of his hair. He didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in his voice anymore, the management had set the arrangement in stone, and he wasn’t happy about it.

"We gave you a chance to throw the paps something fresh, something to bring in new people, and you refused.” The man’s voice was tight, trying to remain patient with Ashton’s brash attitude. “This is the compromise.”

Ashton scoffed harshly at the word, rolling his eyes as he sat up properly in his chair. “Compromise? Pretending to be in love with a person I’ve never met? That’s the compromise?”

“Like, I said you had options. You don’t need to assume that you are going to absolutely despise her, she’s not that bad.” This man, taking over for the other, was speaking casually, returning Ashton’s annoyance with ease.

“‘Not that bad?’ You’ve paired me with ‘not that bad?’”

The man groaned, turning so he was directly facing Ashton. “Personally, I’m not a fan of her, but believe it or not, we chose someone whose company you would actually tolerate while doing the press stuff. I think you are going to really enjoy spending time with her, so please, be nice, the last thing we need is you scaring her away.” He gripped the edge of the table harshly and spoke with a tone of finality that almost made Ashton want to back down.

The two men held each other's gaze for a moment before Ashton sighed, kicking the table leg childishly. “I’ll play nice, but I’m not gonna promise that I’ll like her.”

“Great, because she’s waiting in the lobby for you to stop throwing yourself this pity party, so we can explain everything to the two of you.”

“Of course she is,” he mumbled to himself, straightening up to the table and running a heavy hand over his face.

He had thought up what the girl they would want him with would be like, already thinking up things he would hate about her. She would probably be short and platinum blonde, so perky that even he couldn’t handle it before 11 am. An innocent type, he thought, someone who embodies the management in a naggy, girlfriend-shaped package.

When the door opened, Ashton’s first thought was don’t judge a book by its cover. She looked like almost everything that he assumed she wouldn’t be, but he was still sure that nothing about this endeavor would be enjoyable.

She was taller than he had imagined— he probably didn’t have more than two or three inches on her, and her dark locks were swept back to expose a small tattoo just behind her ear. She grabbed an open chair near Ashton, not too close, but close enough that the management could address them at the same time easily.

Ashton tore his gaze from her, looking back to the team, refusing to give them the satisfaction of showing interest in the girl they had chosen.

They held each other’s gazes expectantly before the girl to his left cleared her throat softly and said, “Well, I’m Hylla. So, hello?” She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the situation, but was sure that long, tense silences weren’t going to help anyone.

Ashton looked back at her, taking in the uncertainty in her features. Her demeanor makes him want to drop his guard, but he remains strong, keeping every ounce of his attraction out of his voice. “I’m Ashton, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Hylla resisted the urge to flinch at his harsh tone and merely rolled her eyes, shifting back to face the team before them. “Are we gonna go over everything now?”

“Yes, so here are the contracts,” said the man sitting across from them, passing them the thick packets. “I know you’ve both already signed them but I want to remind you of a few things. So first is the time frame: this contract covers eight months, but we may extend depending on how everyone reacts to this. During that time, you absolutely cannot have any sexual or romantic relationships with other people. The last thing we’ll need is the media getting their hands on a cheating scandal.”

“I thought feeding the vultures was the point.”

The man looked as though he wanted to strangle the smirk Ashton wore off his face, but managed to remain calm enough to continue. “Ashton, if you dare, you will be in some deep shit. This is for the good of your career, not some scheme for us to ruin your life.” He clipped his words, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, similarly to what I said before, no one outside of this group can know about this. If anyone accuses you about this being for PR, you ignore it. If you get too defensive, it will set people off.”

Hylla, who—much to Ashton’s annoyance—was actually paying attention, nodded along, thumbing through the contract as she took in the information. He couldn’t help but think that she looked kinda cute when she was concentrating. He didn’t even bother to look away when she noticed his gaze, continuing to study her even as she looked back to the man speaking.

“You two will make your first public appearance next week, after you guys know each other a little better. After that we’ll make sure you two will be in the public eye a few times a month, depending on how much exposure each outing gives us. You’re going to need to make sure the paps see you, but don’t make it obvious that you want their attention.”

The meeting drags on longer than Ashton bothers to pay attention for, and he is mildly surprised when it ends, the management team getting up and telling them to hang around the studio, get to know each other before they go public.

Once they’ve gone, Ashton makes a move to leave as well, but is cut off by Hylla.

“Where are you going?” The question doesn’t sound accusatory, but it bothers Ashton nonetheless.

“The writing room. I’m not doing this in here.” His words are curt, making him feel almost bad for the girl as he brushes past her, heading through the winding hallways of the studio.

Hylla matches his brisk pace, muttering softly in an annoyed tone until he stops, holding the door for her in such a manner that it seemed almost sarcastic.

She entered the room, standing near the door until Ashton sat, not wanting to worsen his already sour mood. He chooses a spot on the far end of a couch, leaning back and twirling a pen he had snatched off the table in front of them between his fingers.

Hylla plops down on the opposite end of his couch, tucking one leg beneath her and propping her elbow on the armrest. Ashton’s eyes follow her, taking the time to take even more of her in. Her hair is a deep chestnut, dyed deep red at the tips, and stick straight. Now that she’s taken off the leather jacket she had been wearing, he could see her ear was just one of several tattoos that adorned her skin, and she wore a worn pair of Docs with faded yellow laces. She radiated confidence, never flinching as she waited for Ashton to finish checking her out.

“Enjoying the scenery?” Her grin was cocky, teasing him as though they had been friends for years.

“Something needs to make this arrangement bearable.” Despite his sullen mood, he returned her grin, joking with her. “So who are you? If I need to be madly in love with you in a week, I’m gonna need to know something about you.”

“What do you want to know?” She smiles easily, raking her hand back in her hair just far enough to prop her head on her hand. “There’s a lot about me.”

“Start with the basic things, how old are you, what’s your full name, your favorite color.”

“Well, my name is Hylla Rae Narvaez. I’m 24, and probably red.”

“Hylla Rae Narvaez. A name like that’s gotta have a story behind it.” His grin is teasing, curious as to how she’d react.

“It does sound a bit pretentious, doesn’t it? Queen-like is how most people describe it,” she replies, chuckling along with him. “My dad wanted a Puerto Rican name, and my mom wanted a Greek one, so this was the compromise. What else do you want to know?”

“What do you do for a living? Other than date celebrities, of course.” The jab is teasing, but Hylla stiffens for a moment anyway.

“I’m a tattoo artist, and I do commissioned art on the side.” She speaks a little softer than before, pulling the leg that had been on the ground to her chest.

“Should’ve guessed, with all the ink. You seem like the artsy type.” His words are kind, reaching out to squeeze her knee gently. “I’m sorry I was so pissy before. I just hate that they’re forcing me into this whole thing, you know? It’s nothing personal.”

“Ahh, so you only hate me in theory?” She teases, readopting her carefree demeanor.

Ashton giggles, his eyes bright. “Something like that. It’s the principal of the thing.”

They continued to make small talk, and the easiness of the conversation was surprising to Ashton, as though they were old friends just catching up. He was shocked when he checked the time to find that they had been there for hours, just chatting. Deciding they should both go home, they bid their farewells, Ashton allowing Hylla to leave first to avoid being seen before they were supposed to.

He spent the ride home lost in thought, terrified of how easily this girl he was supposed to hate was breaking down his walls, crawling into the cracks and making herself at home.

After he was home, he meditated to sort out his thoughts, and eventually resigning with a reminder to himself to take things slowly, allowing the whole thing to work itself out. He was in this for the long haul, whether he wanted to be or not, so he couldn’t let himself fuck it up from the start.

~~~

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misssophiachase · 4 years

Photo

Meet the Mikaelsons (formerly called Reality Bites) Chapter 5 - We Are Family

On FF and AO3

Playa Palmilla, San Jose del Cabo

"He’s so frustrating, do you think if I killed him and buried his body in the woods anyone would notice?”

“Given he’s Klaus Mikaelson I think so, Care,” Bonnie offered through the phone speaker.

“So, did you see him naked in the shower at least?”

Caroline had to stop for a moment, not because she’d seen him naked or in the shower given she was too busy sabotaging his hot water supply but because there was a small, niggling feeling at the back of her mind that wasn’t averse to seeing him in that way. Not that she'd ever admit it aloud.

“Of course that would be your initial response, Kat,” she muttered wryly, once she'd recovered from those rogue visuals. “He is driving me crazy. First, he orchestrates the seat allocation change on the flight, then the accommodation and now dinner with the Addams Family.”

“You work with them every day, it can’t be that difficult.”

“Not all at once, Bonnie, and I usually have a whole crew of buffers to stop me from killing them but tonight it will just be us.”

“Like one big happy family.”

“Not helping, Katherine,” she growled.

“Look, I’d be more than happy to play buffer with Elijah Mikaelson,” Katherine purred. “My buffering skills are second to none.”

“I think you’re onto something,” Caroline murmured, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. “How would you both like to come to dinner? I’ll invite Enzo too. Klaus Mikaelson thinks he can mess with my life, well I’m going to do the same thing and play him at his own game.”

"You realize he's your boss, right?"

"The network is my boss and last time I checked he's co-producer," she muttered, still annoyed he'd taken half her job. "Anyway, in a few more weeks I won't have anything to do with him or his crazy-ass family so quite frankly I'm going to do what I like. Now, are you in?"

"Caroline?" She heard him call through the door. "We need to leave for dinner."

"Keep your panties on, Mikaelson," she replied.

"Stop thinking about my knickers and get your cute, little butt out here, Forbes."

"Are you sure you two aren't getting it on?" Katherine asked through the phone, reminding Caroline they were still on the line. "Because if you're not that's as close to foreplay as two people can get."

"Collect Enzo and get your asses to this dinner otherwise I can't be responsible for my actions," she growled then disconnected the call.

Caroline smoothed down her dress, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes momentarily to regain her composure. Just because she wasn't used to big, family dinners didn't mean she couldn't do this. She did work with them all at varying times so it should be easy enough.

Her eyes fluttered open, Caroline telling herself that it was only a couple of hours then it would be all over.

Opening the door, Caroline wasn't expecting him to look quite so handsome in a white, linen shirt buttoned low on his toned chest and fitting, khaki pants. Obviously the cold shower didn't dampen any of his appeal or her attraction to it. Why did he have to look like that? And smell like that? His spicy aftershave was infiltrating her nostrils and she was struggling to concentrate on what she was supposed to do next.

"Wow, you look.." she finally focused on Klaus, catching his dazed expression.

"It's a dress," she replied, knowing full well she chose this white one on purpose because of how well it fitted her and highlighted her Californian tan.

Not that she was trying to impress him but if she was forced to eat with the Mikaelsons then she had to look at least mildly presentable amongst all of their designer clothing.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, the intensity in his eyes making her blush mildly.

"Well, it's not designer but it'll have to do."

"I've always thought designer clothes were overrated," he admitted. "This shirt is actually from the Gap." She gave him a look which clearly said she knew he was lying. "You can, uh, check the tag if you like?"

"I'll pass on that," she shot back sarcastically. "You obviously haven't been to the Gap lately, but nice try to make me feel included, Mikaelson."

"Just because I haven't been shopping there lately doesn't mean I don't want to go there, Forbes," he chuckled. "Now, let's get going before my mother tells us off for being late and missing Grace."

"You say Grace?"

"No, but I got you," he laughed. She rolled her eyes in his direction and then they set off for his mother's private villa.

"So, just in case you were wondering, my mother hates coriander, I think you call it cilantro, she’s incredibly paranoid it’s in the food even if it isn’t. Elijah’s pet peeve is anyone who doesn’t observe proper decorum when it comes to table manners and cutlery placement. Rebekah is incredibly fussy about food.”

“Trust me we’ve seen that particular trait daily on-set,” she murmured knowingly, feeling bad for the catering team all over again.

“She has a thing about separate food items touching. Fruit salad is case in point,” Caroline couldn’t help but giggle at that point.

“Defeats the purpose of calling it a salad I suppose,” she observed. “And Kol?”

“Kol has this horrible habit of licking his knife and talking with his mouth full. Henrik is the one you have to look out for though.”

“Innocent, little Henrik?”

“Don’t let him fool you, love. While being the nicest of all the Mikaelsons, many family meals have ended with at least someone throwing food at someone else."

“Who knew Henrik could be so mischievous? And you?”

“I don’t like peas.”

“Everyone hates peas, that is nothing,” she snorted.

“Okay, you’ve got me.”

“Let me guess you help Henrik do the throwing?”

“Not every time,” he admitted. “Just when Elijah is being pompous and Rebekah precious and Kol immature.”

“So, most times then?” He smirked at her knowingly. “Are these all jokes too?”

"All truth, I couldn’t come up with all of those quirks if I tried. Plus, I swear on my Gap shirt," he teased. Caroline liked the fact that the Mikaelsons seemed like a normal family even if they didn’t let anyone see it publicly.

"So, why did you feel the need to tell me that? Worried about my white dress getting dirty because of a rogue, food fight you may or may not have started?"

"Well, that," he began, sending her a small smile as they walked. "And because I felt a little bad about crashing your flight and making you stay at the villa.”

“So, you admit you were wrong?”

“Easy tiger, I never said I was wrong. Klaus Mikaelson is never wrong.”

“Oh, puh-lease, enough with the ego and the use of the third person,” she complained.

“But I thought it would be helpful with our work. Also, I’m a little worried you’ll try that cold water trick on me again or dagger me in my sleep tonight.”

“I suggest you sleep with one eye open if that’s the case,” she said, only half-jokingly. “I’m curious about this supposed work we’ll be doing. I mean the location team has been here for the past week setting up, the pre-production work is done, the crew has their instructions, the cast has their scripts, even if some don’t like to use them,” she raised her eyebrows at him accusingly.

“You never know when something will come up,” he replied mysteriously.

“If that’s your attempt to talk dirty…”

“I can’t help it if you misconstrue everything I say,” he teased. “I heard you used to work in research before you went into producing.”

“I did,” she confirmed. “What kind of research do we need exactly?”

“Well actually…”

“If it isn’t my two favorite producers in the whole world,” Kol singsonged, patting his brother on the back affectionately as they walked up the front path together.

“Maybe because we are the only two you know, knucklehead,” Klaus growled.

Caroline was used to his younger brother’s weird sense of humour and she was busily trying to work out what Klaus needed and why it included her. Maybe it had something to do with the bride-to-be but, for some reason, it seemed more personal than even that.

“Shouldn’t you be kissing in a tree with sweet Caroline by now, brother?”

“Shouldn’t you be acting your age by now, Kol?”

“I don’t kiss in trees just for your information, Kol. I much prefer places that are comfortable and clean,” she offered. Kol’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head at her brazen response.

“What a coincidence, love,” Klaus growled, his heated expression not lost on her. “Me too.”

As they walked inside and approached the rest of the family, Caroline realised she was going to have to find out later about this mysterious research project.

First, she had to get through dinner with the Mikaelsons.

30 minutes later..

“Are you sure there’s no cilantro in this?” Esther asked the waiter, inspecting the plate of food suspiciously. Caroline noticed Klaus smirking in her direction and had to stifle a laugh.

“We’ve been through this already, mother, it hasn’t touched anything, trust me I asked for all ingredients before we ate,” Rebekah drawled, knocking her head on the table in frustration.

“Manners, Rebekah,” Elijah chided. “And, Kol, I’m taking away your knife if you’re going to do that. And Henrik,” he admonished, before the young boy could even speak. “Don’t you even think about starting a fight, this is a $5,000, Armani suit.”

Caroline couldn’t believe just how accurate his observations of his family were. Having said that though, Klaus had been relatively quiet until now. She thought it was due to the fact the other Mikaelsons were taking centre stage but something didn’t seem right given just how chatty he’d been with her earlier.

“I’m sorry we’re late.” She looked up to see Enzo, Kat, and Bonnie being ushered in by the villa staff. “Someone had to change their outfit ten times.” Caroline eyed Katherine knowing who the guilty party was.

“Of course not, sit down,” Esther fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Waiter, get these three some drinks and whatever this food is supposed to be. I hope none of you are allergic to cilantro.”

“And keep the drinks coming,” Rebekah muttered tapping her glass impatiently, her attention squarely focused on Enzo. Caroline wasn’t sure what Enzo had done to Princess Rebekah but obviously it required extra alcohol.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Bonnie smiled sweetly. Kol who’d been busy inspecting his facial features in the reflection of his butter knife stopped short, perusing their new dining companions curiously.

“Of course, anything for Caroline,” Esther said, patting the chair next to her for Enzo. He gave her a brief look which meant ‘you owe me.’

She could feel Klaus staring intently in her direction, his crimson lips pursed tightly. Maybe inviting them behind his back was immature but she’d been so worked up about his constant need to interfere with her plans.

“Nice suit, Armani right?” Katherine asked, placing herself next to him. When she said she’d buffer she really meant it.

“Yes,” he answered. “And who might you be?”

“Katherine Pierce,” she sent him a dazzling smile. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms Pierce,” he replied stoically. Caroline never knew anyone who could be so immune to flirting as Elijah. But knowing Katherine’s persistence he would soon know.

“Who do we have here?” Kol asked, sidling over to Bonnie. “Are you a friend of our sweet Caroline?”

“Yes, I’m Bonnie,” she replied simply.

“Well, I’m Kol,” he said confidently. “Although, I’m sure you’ve heard of me already.”

“Yes, your reputation precedes you,” she murmured quietly. Caroline could tell by Kol’s puzzled look he wasn’t sure if she meant that in a good or bad way. Maybe being kept on his toes like that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Can you pass the salt,” Enzo asked Rebekah politely after their meals had been delivered. She didn’t respond at first, just finished the rest of her drink in one go. Enzo gave Caroline another look which clearly meant ‘seriously?’

“Here,” she pushed it toward him her gaze purposely not meeting his.

“Well, that would be great if I wanted pepper,” he muttered. “There is a difference.”

“Rebekah don’t be rude to the good doctor,” Esther chided. “I’m sorry about my children, they have everything they could ever want except for manners. Their father and I tried but obviously you can’t have everything.”

Klaus remained quiet, his gaze now downward. Caroline wondered if it was still because of her surprise guests or if it was something more. She didn’t want to care but, at the same time, for some reason she really wanted to know.

#meet the mikaelsons #misssophiachase #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline #my writing #chapter five #we are family

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cloudfiveclub · 6 years

Note

could you pls do a headcannon on how the boys would react to them getting a boner like whilst cuddling?? Thanks hun:))

this was requested so long ago anon i’m SORRY and not just to you but to everybody else who requested things i promise i’ll get to them eventually! hopefully you’re still around to see this anon LOL love u

Christopher ♛ knew what you were doing. Purposefully rubbing yourself up against him like that while the both of you were lounging on the sofa in the dressing room. The boys were getting some relaxation in before the show, and he’d taken the opportunity to pull you into his lap to share some cuddles and kisses. Erick and Joel were opposite the both of you, doing lord knows what. Erick said he’d seen it on instagram, and he’d instructed Joel to lift him up upside down and support his legs so he could do a handstand by the wall. A bottle was attached to his lips, and he was trying his best to chug all the water down as quickly as he could. He failed, and a vicious choking attack had greeted him. The three of you, naturally, erupted into laughter. Then Christopher felt it. The light pressure against his crotch from your wiggling. He immediately brought his hands up to you waist to keep you still, wordlessly warning you to stop being so restless. You hadn’t bothered looking at him at all, instead just grounding your bottom harder against him. The movement against his groin felt good. Too good. He gave you a warning look, and you caught sight of it in your peripheral vision. You’d turned your head to face him slightly, eyelids falling shut as you batted your eyelashes at him innocently.

“You okay, Chris?” you’d asked, head cocked to the side. He frowned, silently telling you with his eyes to stop whatever you were trying to do. His hands caressed the sides of your waist, seemingly in a sweet gesture to persuade you to go easy on him. You wiggled your butt against him again, and his grip only tightened.

“You need to stop, princesa,” he hissed lowly. He did a quick glance towards the two bandmates in front of him to make sure they were preoccupied with something else, which thankfully, they were. You grinded backwards cheekily in response and he wound his arm around your waist quickly, pulling you against his chest so the both of you laid against the couch.

“I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you whispered in his ear, gazing up at him as innocently as you could. Chris swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt his jeans get tighter and tighter. He shifted his hips, unintentionally rubbing against your ass and eliciting a gasp from you. His hard-on rested dangerously close to your core, and a warmth spread across your face. You made eye contact with your boyfriend, and he merely gritted his teeth at you, raising an eyebrow.

You were so in for it afterwards.

Richard ♚ hadn’t intended to be ready for another round so quickly. You two had been at it the whole morning, from the time you woke up at around 10 up until 2 in the afternoon. Both of you lost track of how many orgasms he had given you, and after he had finally finished in you, you two had hit the showers (which ended up in another round of fucking). Finally, after ordering some food in, the both of you had collapsed onto the couch in the living room, fully ready to enjoy a lazy afternoon with The Avengers. It had barely been half an hour into the movie, when he felt your knee pressed up against him. The both of you were tangled in each other’s limbs, your right arm was draped across his bare chest, his right wrapped around your shoulders. Your legs were in a strange position, and your right leg was bent, knee pushing against the spot in between his legs.

Richard had tried to ignore it at first, but he could tell you were slightly restless that day, and your knee pushed and probed against his balls with all the adjusting you were doing in an attempt to find a comfortable position. He’d given you a side glance, but you seemed oblivious to whatever you were doing, leading him to realise you really weren’t doing it on purpose. But it grew too hard to ignore. In all sense of the word. His growing cock strained against his basketball shorts, and his hips involuntarily bucked against your knee, his body already demanding for more affection. His movements caught you off guard for a second, and you assumed it was because he had stayed in one position for too long. But your gaze was pulled towards his crotch before you had a chance to ask if he was comfortable enough. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from your lips, and all your boyfriend could do was give you a cheeky, but still mildly embarrassed smile.

“I think he could use a little relief, you know,” he’d suggested, gesturing towards his attentive buddy in his pants. You didn’t bother replying with words, instead reaching over to pause the movie, and attaching your lips to him.

Zabdiel ♜ hadn’t seen you in too long. He had just gotten back from a long tour, and he was tired, but happy to have been reunited with the love of his life. The both of you had gone too long without intimacy, but Zabdiel was ready to hit the hay as soon as he stepped into your shared apartment.

You, of course, were understanding as always and said that getting rest was the most important thing for the time being. Still, he wanted to be close to you, so after a quick shower on his part, the both of you had collapsed onto your bed. He wound his arms round your waist, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. Still smelled like aloe vera, the way he liked it.

But as sleepy as he was, it didn’t take him long to take notice that your bum was rubbing up against his crotch through his sweats. You were clad in just one of his shirts and some cute little panties. The pink cotton one decorated with tiny hearts that he so loved. Zabdiel knew he missed you a lot, but it seemed like his little buddy in his pants missed you even more, and he started jumping in attention the moment pressure was placed against it. His hardening member rested in the curve of your ass nicely, and he couldn’t help but shift closer to you to get it nice and snug. He heard you giggle when he did so, and he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Mhmm, just ignore it amor, you can settle it later,” he mumbled sleepily. But his actions contradicted his words as he slowly began to grind his crotch into your bum. You wiggled it back teasingly, laughing lightly.

“I don’t think he really wants you to settle it later though,” you teased. Zabdiel was already one step ahead of you by the time you were done with your sentence, pressing kisses to your neck. Sleep could wait, he guessed.

Joel ✵ really didn’t mean it. It was completely and purely unintentional. And the moment he felt his pants become tight and his hard-on press against your butt, he’d decided that it was the most embarrassing moment he had ever had in his life.

It was late, almost 2am and Joel still had to get up early the next morning for a string of interviews. You’d force him into bed despite his whinings that the both of you hadn’t been intimate properly in almost a month. He’d just been so incredibly busy, and every time both of you actually wanted to do something, Joel had collapsed in exhaustion before your clothes were even off. You understood, but he wasn’t nearly as patient as you were. This was another one of the nights where he went on and one about he needed at least 5 minutes of your lips on his dick at least, but you somehow, like always, managed to persuade him to just go to sleep so he would have the energy to function tomorrow.

Joel had grumbled about it like always, but still pulled you close and spooned you as the both of you settled in. Then that’s when he felt it. Your perky butt pressed against his crotch, and you had wiggled it a little against him to get comfortable, but the pressure against his dick seemed to excite his little buddy. He sucked in a breath as he grew harder against your ass, and he sniffled awkwardly when he realised there was no escaping. Sure, he was needy, but it was embarrassing for him that he couldn’t even exercise some self control. You were surely more patient than him.

“Is that Joel Junior I feel against my butt right now?” he heard you ask. He couldn’t see your face, but he knew you were smiling. He shifted against you, clearing his throat as his face slowly started to turn pink.

“I-uh… I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled out an excuse, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you closer; partly in an attempt to silently tell you to just ignore it, but also partly because he was secretly trying to get you to move against him a little to get some pleasure. This action placed more pressure on his hardened member, and he grunted silently. “Sorry,” he added on, almost shyly. You failed to reply, and his breath caught in his throat as you ground your hips into him slightly more. Safe to say he was definitely late for his interview the next day.

Erick ❆ was tired, but his body seemed to think otherwise.

You two had been lucky enough to get the twin seats all the way at the back of the plane, it was covered and private enough and gave you guys the opportunity to display as much affection as you wanted without annoying the strangers around you. The other boys were scattered around the rest of the plane somewhat near you guys. The bunch of you had been travelling back and forth for the past 36 hours, and none of you had really gotten a wink of sleep during the whole duration, so you had thanked your lucky stars this last flight was almost 10 hours long, so all of you could get some rest.

Erick had thrown a blanket over the two of you, and you had pulled down the seat partitioner so the two of you could cuddle up to each other. You’d fallen asleep quickly as soon as the plane took off, but he had some trouble. The seats were midly uncomfortable, but he tried his best to just think about you to settle in. And it worked - sort of. His eyes were closed, and he had just begun to nod off. He was listening to your steady breaths as you rested on his chest, and the revelling in the soft comforting hold of your arm round his torso. Your hand rested just directly above his joggers, but it was apparently too close to his private areas.

One thought subconciously led to another, and before he could fall asleep, the thought of having your lips wrapped round his cock intruded his mind. Erick jerked wide awake as his member started to grow, and he swallowed when you shifted the position of your hand in your sleep, bringing it lower. He wiggled his hips to try and shift your hand up without waking you, but it stayed where it was; fingertips just brushing his dick through the fabric of his pants.

God, he really couldn’t just get a good rest.

You seemed to be in a deep sleep, and he really didn’t want to wake you to try to get you to solve his little predicament, so he didn’t bother you. Erick didn’t get much rest for the next few hours.

#cnco #christopher velez #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus #erick colon #joel pimentel #thirstybox

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strawberryjmilk · 6 years

Text

good together | seo changbin

word count: 1632

You were humming as you walked, the take-out bag clutched in one hand and a drink tray in the other. The JYP building soon came into view - you smiled at the employees you knew as you made your way to the studio. Even from outside of the door you could hear a beat pause as three groans echoed. You couldn't help your grin.

Shifting the bag, you opened the door slowly. Peeking your head in, you realized they didn't even notice you. Your smile grew. "Delivery for three sleep deprived boys?"

Jisung jumped, turning to you immediately. Seeing your struggle, he hopped over to grab the drink tray. Jisung planted a kiss on your cheek, "hi, Y/N!"

"You brought us food?" Chan's eyebrows furrowed as he pouted. Shuffling through the take-out bag you handed him, Chan frowned even more. "How much was it? I'll pay you back."

You rolled your eyes at the boy, reaching out to tug on his cheek lightly. "I don't mind buying things for my boys when I know you've been stressing all day. You don't owe me anything, Chan."

His smile grew softer before he kissed your forehead, moving to sit beside Jisung on the couch. You realized Changbin still had headphones over his ears - but, he was still watching you from the corner of his eye. Walking over to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, waiting until he took off is headphones to speak.

"Take a break," your voice was gentle. Changbin watched you for a minute before joining the other two boys on the couch. With your constant nagging, the boys didn't go back to work until an hour later. Their minds were refreshed and pumping out new ideas, you noticed, and you left the studio happily.

��

"Do you think Changbin hates me?" Your voice was almost silent as you spoke your worries. It always bothered you; how Changbin glared and rolled his eyes when you spoke. Embarrassingly, you found yourself watching him quietly, but you would never admit your crush. He couldn't stand you - you were sure of it.

A snort sounded from beside you. Seungmin rolled his eyes before turning his head to face you. It was only the two of you in the dorm, so you decided to watch a movie. You couldn't concentrate, though, your thoughts only surrounding the blank stare Changbin gave you.

"Y/N, you have to be joking," Seungmin clicked his tongue. At your silence - and puffed out bottom lip - Seungmin only sighed. "His face gets red every time you're around. I think he has a crush on you, honestly."

You couldn't believe that. Why would Changbin show his crush through tight-lipped smiles and sneers? He wouldn't.

Seungmin broke the silence, "why does it matter anyways?"

"It doesn't," you sighed. You adjusted yourself so you could lay your head on Seungmin's shoulder. "Just thinking, that's all."

♡

Jisung was in the recording booth when you decided to visit again. He was bobbing his head to the beat, waiting for his queue. You sat beside Chan silently, watching as he turned knobs on the soundboard. He was bobbing his head, too, and soon vocals surrounded the area.

You looked around - Changbin wasn't there. It relaxed you slightly, knowing you wouldn't have to deal with his stares. But, you found yourself wondering where he was. You turned your attention back to the song Jisung was singing.

"I love to hear Jisung sing," you sighed wistfully. Chan chuckled, shaking his head as he focused on Jisung's voice.

Chan nudged you gently, "stop showing your favoritism."

"Oh, please," you found yourself laughing along with him. You rolled your eyes but welcomed the grin that settled on your lips. "I like to hear you sing, too, Chan."

"We all know I'm your favorite, Y/N," Jisung boasted as he stepped out of the booth. He even went as far as wiggling his eyebrows and shimmying his shoulders. It made you laugh - Jisung always managed to make you laugh.

As you giggled, you brought a hand to your forehead like you were fainting. "You make me swoon, Ji!"

The laughter in the room settled as the door creaked open. Changbin trailed in, hood over his head as he looked down at his phone. Glancing up, his eyes were light and curious. When they settled on you, though, they grew stern.

"I thought we were working," his voice was harsh. Your grin melted as you faced the soundboard, every inch of amusement drained from you. Chan cleared his throat before motioning for Changbin to step into the booth.

It was silent until Jisung broke the tense atmosphere, "yohhhh!"

You snorted at how he mimicked Changbin. You copied his actions without thinking, "yooooh!"

"Y/N, Jisung," Chan sighed before shaking his head. Even then, you could see him smiling along with you. "Please stop making fun of Changbin."

"We're not making fun of him," you rolled your eyes. You watched Changbin in the booth, watching as he would bite his lip, waiting for his queue to rap. Or, how he would move along to the beat, or scrunch his nose on specific words. With a small sigh, you muttered, "I think it's kinda cute."

You ignored the stares you received.

♡

You stole a sip of Seungmin's milkshake when he wasn't looking, humming at the strawberry taste. When he looked back, you acted innocent by scrolling mindlessly on your phone. The cafe you were in was quiet and sparse - the silence seemed to swallow you up.

"Jisung said something interesting the other day," Seungmin said. You peered at him through your lashes, mildly curious. Chances were, Jisung and Seungmin were gossiping about you. They'd done so numerous times before. "About you."

Knew it.

"Why do the two of you feel the need to gossip about me?" you muttered. Seungmin merely rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his milkshake.

"It was just about something you said," he tried to reassure you. You only looked at him - did he expect you to believe that? Seungmin sighed before smirking. "Something along the lines of you saying a certain rapper is kinda cute."

You squeaked; Seungmin stared. Finally, you broke, "I said a habit he has is cute!"

Seungmin clapped, grinning, "you like Changbin!"

You borderline flailed as you tried to get the boy to be quiet. Seungmin would transition from cheering to laughing - very, very loudly. You groaned, hiding your face in your arms in embarrassment. Seungmin began to quiet down slowly.

"Hey, Y/N," Seungmin poked your arm. You only groaned, keeping your face hidden because you could feel how hot your cheeks were. "It's not a bad thing, you know. I'm sure he likes you, too."

You peeked up so only your eyes were showing. "What makes you so sure?"

"He blushes when you're around," Seungmin shrugged. He took another sip of his milkshake - you wondered if he realized you stole a sip. "And it's like his mind shuts down so he's just... blank."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I thought he did that because he didn't like me."

Seungmin only smiled, "maybe you'll notice it next time."

♡

Notice it you did.

Changbin seemed to pause whenever he realized you were in the same room as him. His face would turn to stone, ignoring the light pink flooding to his cheeks. Changbin took a lot of breaks from working, usually after you smiled or laughed loudly.

You were starting to believe Sengmin's theory and that scared you. If Changbin did like you - then what? You could barely admit to yourself that you were crushing on him; how were you expected to actually do something about it?

You got your answer as Jisung and Chan left the two of you alone one day.

You cleared your throat a few times to dissolve the tense atmosphere - Changbin only ignored you. Sighing, you took a seat on the couch and watched as Changbin fiddled with the soundboard. You had to know if Seungmin was right. "Why don't you like me?"

Changbin tensed, not bothering to turn and look at you. He scratched his head before sighing. Changbin turned his head slightly, just enough so you could see his side-profile. "I don't not like you."

"Changbin, that made absolutely no sense," you spoke in a monotone voice. You could see him freeze again; see the slight color washing onto his cheeks. You grinned as Changbin cleared his throat and turned back to the soundboard.

"I don't hate you," Changbin mumbled. You furrowed your eyebrows - that's not exactly what you asked. Changbin sighed again before he turned to face you directly. His eyes were still on the ground as he spoke, "you're just... distracting."

The wheels were turning in your head as you tried to hide your growing grin. "Jisung and Chan concentrate enough with me around."

"That's-" Changbin stopped himself. Finally, he lifted his eyes so they met yours. His cheeks were flushed and pink - you found it endearing. "That's different."

You decided to go for it, "different because you like me?"

Changbin's eyes seemed to widen as the both of you sat in silence. You didn't let your gaze fall, keeping your eyes locked entirely on him. Changbin glanced away a few times before meeting your eyes again.

"Yeah," he seemed defeated. His voice was mellow and his eyes were soft as he continued to watch you. "Yeah, it's because I like you."

"Good thing I like you, too," you beamed at him. Changbin's cheeks seemed to light up even more at this. You were both grinning now, laughing lightly at the situation.

"Finally!"

"Jisung!"

"Seungmin? Jisung?"

"You guys made them catch us!"

"Chan?!"

♡

i hope the lil dialogue at the end isnt annoying aksjdasjdk i hope you enjoyed this!! requests are open, if youd like to send one in! thank you for reading, ♡

#seo changbin scenarios #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin oneshot #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #My Imagines

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