#he always do his best to either play the “silent card” or try distracting him whenver he feel he's deep in thought ...

[haru-chi]

You know what's really a heartbreaking fact that's just too painful for me ...

Natsume's inability to picture or comprehend a "Happy Reiko" :/

He so desire and wish to see her truly happy for once in her life since all he saw of her was her tragic and lonely life as of yet ..

Which's why I find it painful that even when he ACTUALLY see a trully happy Reiko he always goes "I don't know this person" or "funny that she reminded me of Reiko"

He saw her like this 2 times .. yet in both he never seen her as Reiko .. the first time was in hazy dream without her signature school uniform .. so in a way that's understandable

Yet in the recent chapter the picture was clearly Reiko no "what if" about it but he can't register her as such .. because he can't picture it ..

Maybe in a way he's protecting himself unconsciously because as I said he so desire this deeply .. so if he was mistaken and this isn't Reiko in the end .. the emotional damage would be heavy for him. that's why he's doubtful and always plays the "remind me of Reiko" without him realizing it himself and only hold his wishful thinking ...

And in both cases Madara wasn't there to either confirm or deny it for him ..

I even don't know if Natsume is ready for whatever await him regarding Reiko's past .. will he survive the hidden truth ??

Maybe because he isn't yet.. his inner self is protecting him like this ..

[masterqwertster]

Any of 12, 18, 19, 28, or 32 of the Guy in a Situation prompts seems like shenanigans Bell's Hells would get into in the Secret Library AU.

Alrighty, let's go 18 Possession/Mind-controlled. After all, Laudna is kind of possessed normally anyways.

"Come on, Laudna! You're stronger than her!" Imogen shouts, back pressed against a bookshelf.

"Oh really? Is that what you think?" a voice that isn't Laudna’s comes purring out of the dark-haired woman's mouth. “Poor dear. She hasn’t even told you that this isn’t the first time I’ve taken control. It’s not even the second.”

Fear and fury shiver down Imogen’s spine as she hears those words among the slow tap-tapping of Laudna’s possessed footsteps. A bitter and hysterical part of her mind says the bitch is probably miffed that Laudna wears flats, denying her the crisp click of heels for her little predatory stroll.

For the thousandth time, Imogen curses the artifact that came in earlier today. It’s what Delilah is after, what she saw fit to take over Laudna for, so why shouldn’t it bear the blame? There’s hope that if they can get the stupid thing to the forge it’ll be possible to melt down the little verdigris stained statue of a left hand with an eye in the palm, rendering it inert, which will then, hopefully, get Delilah to fuck right off.

Problem is, Delilah cottoned on to the plan pretty fast. Worse, she’s somehow gotten control of Ashton. You would think it would be real easy to keep track of 500-plus pounds of living stone, especially with how Ashton stomps around most of the time. But no, the damn bastard has a near-silent tread when they’re sneaking around. It’s fucking terrifying the way they ghost out of the stacks as they hunt down the rest of the team at Delilah’s command. And certainly not helped by the fact that Ashton knows the library best, seeing as it’s been their home far longer than any of the rest of the team has been here.

Though by now, FCG has, hopefully, tangled Ashton up somewhere else. Even mind-controlled, the punk rock has a soft spot a mile wide for the cute little robot. And FCG isn’t exactly defenseless either.

Imogen looks across the aisle to Chetney, receiving a nod. A steadying breath in, then she darts up the aisle, finding a new hiding place. He shadows her advance a few seconds later, ducking under a blast of magic spun between no longer friendly fingers.

The telepath and the werewolf have been playing leapfrog to distract Delilah while Orym and Fearne try the ventilation ducts to get to the forge. And they’re so lucky that Delilah can’t sense the damn artifact, otherwise the bait-and-switch before they all split wouldn’t have worked out like this.

A tsk echoes amongst the shelves. 

“Try all you like, but you’re not going to beat me,” Delilah calls out, taunting. “Not without killing your precious little Laudna.”

“That’s what she said,” Chetney taunts back. Then yelps when another blast comes his way.

They’re playing a dangerous, dangerous game. Orym and Fearne need time to sneak by and do the deed. But more time means dodging more shots from Delilah, that Ashton has more chances to break free of whatever entrapment FCG has used against him. It’s a race against the clock with no way to know who’s won until the cards are all down.

How’s it going, Orym? Imogen calls down the psychic tether she’d established as the group split.

We’re there. Just trying to get the forge hot enough to melt this thing down. Orym reports, mind distracted with his current activities.

Well please hurry. I’m not sure how long we can keep this game up before someone gets real hurt.

I know. We’re trying.

“Then again, maybe you are willing to kill her. I haven’t seen that poor statue of a boy in a while. What you’ll do to him, you’ll surely be willing to do to her. Or is he just worth less to you? A Nobody that no one wants around,” Delilah continues.

Imogen’s fists clench. Sure, her and Ashton don’t always get along, but that doesn’t mean she’d kill them for what Delilah is making them do. Yet she knows just how deeply such words would cut Ashton, and it scares her that Delilah probably also knows that just from watching from behind Laudna’s eyes. It’s something only friends, like Laudna and Ashton are, should know. Delilah shouldn’t be able to tread on that bond, the fucking bitch. She shouldn’t be able to touch any of Laudna’s friendships.

And that sparks a damn foolhardy and risky plan in Imogen’s mind.

Delilah says she’s possessed Laudna before? Fine. Imogen bets that Laudna’s never had so many reasons to fight the bitch off before. Her friend just needs a reminder.

“Imogen!” Chetney hisses when she boldly steps into the middle of the aisle.

“I care about all of my friends. And that includes you, Laudna. So you better kick this bitch out, or I’m spendin’ the rest of my days lookin’ for a way to bring you back. Even if the rest of my days is just today,” Imogen declares, standing boldly in the open space.

Delilah twists Laudna’s face into a teeth-baring snarl, hands twisting into arcane motions. 

Imogen doesn’t break eye contact with her best friend(‘s body).

The blast misses her by three feet.

Imogen wants to whoop in victory as frustrated confusion spreads across Delilah’s expression. She knew Laudna was in there, knew she was strong enough to throw off that damn ghost.

“Like I said, Laudna’s stronger than you,” Imogen says with a vicious, victorious grin.

“You think that’s enough to stop me!?” Delilah snarls, hands clawing for more arcane might.

“Maybe not, but I don’t think you have a reason to keep fighting anymore.”

Delilah whirls, and Imogen can see Orym and Fearne stepping up behind her. The small man tips his hands, letting a misshapen lump of metal fall to the floor.

“NO! What have you done?!” Delilah shrieks, gathering even more magic to her.

Imogen fears that this blast isn’t going to be one Laudna can redirect away from them all. Even Fearne and Chetney reflect her fear. But strangely not Orym.

The reason becomes apparent when FCG comes wheeling out of the stacks next to Laudna-Delilah, an artifact in hand and arcane words tumbling out of their mouth, Ashton standing protectively at their back.

FCG finishes before Delilah can release her blast, sending the malevolent spirit screeching back to whatever damned hole she’d crawled out of. 

Imogen rushes forward to catch Laudna before Delilah is even fully banished.

“...Hello, darling,” Laudna rasps out as her eyes flutter open to Imogen cradling her.

“Hey yourself. I’m glad you're back with us,” Imogen replies, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Me too, darling. Me too.”

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #27

Prompt: Uncooperative Patient

Fandom/OCs: Wagon Train OCs (Dan and Ella)

Words: 1240

Sicknario inspo: Flu season sicknario E from this post. 

Author’s comments/background: Ready their first story here. Another set of OCs that I thought would only ever have one story. And yet another doctor OC lol. ( I don’t have a problem, really…) I don’t write “bad” patients very often (and I should probably change that) but there’s no better candidate for a bad patient than a doctor. So have some sick, tired, self-sacrificing Dan and caring Ella. 

~~~***~~~

It was the time of year when Ella hardly saw her husband. As the town physician, Dan was often gone all hours of the day, seeing to one ailing patient after another. It was part and parcel of the job he loved, and after all, this was why they moved west, so that he could continue to serve and treat people in the way he knew best. But the time of year when the crisp freshness of fall was grabbed away by the icy fingers of winter–the end of harvest season and the beginning of the long, miserable months of snow–was very trying for Ella and the children. Half the townspeople were either falling sick with fever or influenza or pneumonia and the other half were injuring themselves somehow or other as they prepared their barns and houses for winter, and all of them running their poor doctor ragged. This year the influenza was awful, and had already taken three poor souls, two old folks and a tiny baby. Dan was haggard and careworn, and Ella hardly less so for worry over him and everyone else. 

One memorable day, Dan staggered in the door just as Ella was putting luncheon on the table for the children. He had come in the night before long after she went to bed and left before she woke, so she'd hardly seen him in two days. She greeted him warmly as the children squealed in excitement at the rare treat of having their Pa home at midday. Dan collapsed into a chair with a yawn. Ella served him a plate, getting a good look at him as she did. His color was awful; he was nearly gray with fatigue, the shocking circles under his eyes standing out in sharp relief. His nose was red, perhaps from the cold air, and the beginning of a beard was beginning to show across his chin and cheeks. He always neglected to shave when he was exhausted, not wanting to risk cutting himself with his shaking hands. She reminded herself to offer to do it for him when he had a moment of peace. 

She carded her fingers through the hair around his ear, pressing a kiss to his head. He sighed in pleasure, but as his eyes flickered to hers, his attention was distracted by her visibly swollen wrist. He caught the wrist gently, pressing his fingers over it in an exploratory way. When she made a sound of pain, he gave her a questioning look. 

"I tripped over a root in the yard and my wrist caught my weight when I fell. It's nothing to worry about."

"It's not broken. But why didn't you tell me? I can wrap it for you," he said, his voice husky and tired. 

"You don't need to fuss over me," she said firmly. You've got enough to be going on with."

He kissed the hand below the injured wrist. "You and the children will always be my first concern. Anything you need comes before the rest of it."

"But you're so tired," she blurted out. "My needs are second to yours now. I wouldn't add anything else to your plate."

"Look at my plate, Mama!" crowed little John, and Ella's attention was diverted for the rest of the meal. Dan ate quickly and silently, aside from a husky dry cough that further worried his wife, and he seemed in danger of falling asleep at any moment. Ella also noted, though he tried hard to hide it, that he trembled with every movement. She didn't mention this right away though, wanting to wait until she could give him her full attention. Once the children were finished and cleaned up and she had shooed them away to play, she turned to her husband, but he had already stood and was pulling on his coat, making ready to go out again. 

"Can't you stay and rest a while longer?" Ella begged. "Listen to the wind, there's a storm brewing. And you've hardly been home in days."

Dan shook his head. "I can't, lovely. I've got half a dozen folks to check in on yet. Long as there's nothing new, I'll hopefully be home before night."

Ella would have protested more, but it wasn't needed. As Dan turned to the door, a visible wave of dizziness overtook him. His knees buckled, and Ella watched him start to fall as if in slow motion. With speed she didn't know she had, she rushed to him and caught him before he hit the ground outright. Her injured wrist screamed in pain, but Dan suffered no harm as he crumpled into her, and at last she felt the scorching heat under his skin as his cheek met her neck. Her heart fluttered with anxiety, but she tried to keep calm. 

She called for her oldest two children, and the three of them maneuvered Dan into the bedroom and into bed. The tall man was floppy and uncoordinated, but he tried to assure them that he was fine all the while. He let himself be put to bed, seemingly unable to do otherwise. Fearing the children would take ill too, Ella shooed them away again as soon as Dan was more or less settled while she went about trying to make him more comfortable, removing his boots and coat and tending to him with cold rags. He seemed to lose consciousness for a time while she worked to bring the fever down. 

Some time later, he regained awareness. "Ella?" he mumbled.

"I'm here," she reassured him. 

"What will I do?" he moaned. "I must go see my patients. They need me."

"I will send the children down the road to fetch Sarah and Samuel Gardner," Ella said firmly, having been thinking about it. "That pair has dogged your steps since they could walk, and with Sam in town again this winter to help his father on the farm, the timing is perfect. They can stitch wounds and give linseed oil and quinine and all the rest, and you can instruct them as needed from here until you're well. It seems you've picked up the influenza yourself unless I miss my guess, or something else just as nasty, and I won't see you get any worse under my watch." 

Daniel nodded, cowed, or was simply too exhausted to argue. "Fetch the twins here to me, then, quickly," he coughed. "Before the fever pulls me under again."

This was done, and the young adults, eager and serious, received their instructions, then hurried away again with an urgency that seemed to ease Daniel's mind.

"They'll do well, never fear," Ella said confidently, watching them go. Then she turned to meet her husband's eyes. "And now you can rest and get well yourself. I'll not stand for you being uncooperative and trying to sneak away. Your mind must be on your own health now."

Dan nodded wearily. "As you say. I'm under your care." His eyes flickered open wider. "Though I'd still like to wrap your wrist if you'll allow me. I know I pulled it again when you had to catch me. I heard you gasp."

Ella smiled. He knew her too well, and was still taking care of her from his sickbed. "As long as you let me give you a shave. That stubble itches like the devil I'm sure."

A fever-hazed smile brightened his face for a moment. "It's a bargain," he agreed.

[kooktrash]

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

And here's a thought! Lucifer and Belphegor pining after the same F!reader. A fic or headcanons, whichever is easier for you. How would they go about wooing her? What are their flirting techniques? Who's more touchy feely and who drowns her in words? I want that good, kind of filthy because we know they dont play fair, brotherly competition

Sincerely,

Your favorite aka the Queen of Smut @diavolosthots

Lucifer and Belphegor Pining Over The Same F!MC Headcanons

did I get carried away with this? Yes. Did it go from Headcanons to like ... headcanony fic? Yes. Do I Hope it’s still good? Also yes.

This isn’t friendly competition, not at all. As soon as they realized that they liked the same girl, it was like a race to see who could get to her first, who could win her over first. They are out to spoil each other's plans, no matter what it takes.

Lucifer would take you out on little lunch dates or grand dinner dates, it just depends on how busy he is, but he does enjoy smaller lunch dates since the restaurants aren’t packed during the day, but the dates were always under the guise of a friendly lunch or a generous dinner for helping around the house. His pride made it hard for him to handle any type of rejection, so he never told you that it was a date, just in case you didn’t like it.

Belphie, if he found out about the reservation that Lucifer had made, would always attempt to hold everything up. The dishwasher just so happened to start leaking bubbles from the bottom as soon as you and Lucifer were about to leave, or all the lights in the house somehow went out while you were getting ready. Strange things, but they were also normal things that could happen in a normal household. You were none the wiser to what was going on, but Lucifer knew, and he could play just as hard at that game.

Belphie wasn’t one to take you out of the house, he didn’t see the point in doing it. He could have a normal date with you up in the attic, and that’s exactly what he does. Snacks lined up next to the beanbags that he has placed in front of the television. Just a simple movie night, and the best part is that, this was one of the things that he and you did before he even realized that he had feelings for you, so you wouldn’t think any different of it, but this was his way of getting closer to you.

Lucifer hated it, he hated how simple it seemed to be for Belphie. He was lazy, so he didn’t have to try as hard to impress you. Him just getting out of bed was a means for a round of applause from you. He wasn’t one to spoil things the way Belphie did, but he would text you occasionally during your movie, just to make sure that you were still capable of texting back. Sometimes, if you didn’t text him back within ten minutes, he’d go up to the attic himself and inform you that it was time for dinner, or that he needed your help with something.

It started out as somewhat normal brotherly competition, but once one of them started getting handsy, that’s when the other ramped it up. Lucifer was definitely more handsy, although he’d play it off quite well. Pulling you into his lap in his office while he worked, and when you’d question it, his excuse was that you kept him from getting up and getting distracted. Now, he and you both knew that he wasn’t the kind of person to get distracted, but he also did seem to work much faster with you on his lap. That, and the fact that his arms were on either side of you so you couldn’t really move, and his chin was resting on your shoulder. What better way to get closer to someone than to actually have them close like that? That was Lucifer's way of thinking, and Belphie didn’t like it one bit.

Belphie was too awkward to do stuff like that, not that he didn’t hold onto you during the naps that the two of you took together, but that was normal to him, and it was normal to you as well. Any other kind of physical affection though… he couldn’t do that. What if you pulled away from him? What if you didn’t like it? That was scary to him.

Belphie liked to use words, and while he wasn’t the best at telling you how he felt, it seemed way better than just pulling you onto his lap and staying silent. That just seemed awkward. His “words” were usually just off handed compliments, things that wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable, and things that he found easier to get out. He wouldn’t stumble over his words when he told you that your hair looked nice, and he wouldn’t turn into a blushing mess when he complimented your outfit or your shoes. It was easy, and you would always smile and thank him when he said those things. Your reactions alone made him feel like he was winning, and they made Lucifer more irritated because you didn’t smile and thank him when he held you on his lap. What did he have to do to receive the same gratitude?

Soon though, they got tired of basically beating around the bush. You were either clueless to their advances, or just didn’t like either of them. No matter what, they had to find out, and they were going to try twice as hard. The bad part is just that though… they were both trying, and that was a recipe for disaster.

Lucifer is used to getting what he wants, when he wants, no matter what it is. His best friend is the king dammit, and he isn’t going to give up. If he has to bring Lord Diavolo into this, he will. Don’t doubt him.

Belphie on the other hand, he’s not used to getting what he wants at all, but he feels like he at least deserves to have you considering you’re the reason he got locked away in the attic in the first place and he still wants to be with you. That should amount to something in your eyes, right? Can’t we just get over the fact that he killed you once and then attempted to do it again?

Lucifer started bringing random gifts and flower bouquets to your room. Stuffed teddy bears, and random pieces of jewelry that “caught his eye” and “made him think of you”. Everything that he got you was exquisitely beautiful, and probably worth more than everything you owned combined.

While he had the upper hand monetarily, Belphie had the upper hand in the fact that he was easier to get along with, and those kinds of things weren’t really expected of him. Sure, he had money, but unlike Lucifer he didn’t spend it on grand things to try to buy you over with.

Now, every time Lucifer even comes to your bedroom with gifts, Belphie is in there with you, and that in itself was his gift. He was staying awake, for you. That’s not to say that he didn’t get you things though, but they weren’t as marvelous as the gifts that Lucifer got you, but they had more meaning than a silly little bracelet or multiple vases filled with flowers.

Belphie had gotten you a little cow plushie, and it had a simple note attached to it that said “When you can’t be with me, you can still cuddle with a little piece of me.” And now you brought it with you everywhere, even into Lucifer’s office.

If gifts didn’t work, well… then they’d just go at it full force. Lucifer would put some of his pride aside, and Belphie would let his hatred for Lucifer really shine as they both tried to win you over.

Lucifer would lock Belphie up in the attic for an entire and if you asked where he was he would lie and say he went out with someone else, hoping that it would make you not want to see him anymore. Then he’d take you out on a date, only to find that his credit card isn’t in his wallet and you end up having to pay for the meal.

Yes, Belphie stole Lucifer’s credit card, and the guy should be happy that he just hid it in the attic instead of giving it to Mammon.

Whenever Belphie tried to hang out with you, Lucifer would miraculously claim that it’s room inspection day, which only seemed to begin just recently, and the attic always seemed to need to be cleaned, and so did your room… although Lucifer would always offer to help you with your room when it needed to be cleaned.

If Lucifer had you in the office with him while he was working, Belphie would text Lord Diavolo and tell him that Lucifer wanted to hang out today and he was just too prideful to ask. He knows all too well that Lucifer can’t say no to Lord Diavolo.

That, in turn, had Lucifer using the same trick against Belphie with Beel though. He’d tell Beel that Belphie wanted to work out at the gym with him and was just too embarrassed to ask since he was so scrawny and weak.

It was a constant tit for tat, back and forth with the two of them, and finally they wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore. They’d sit you down at the table, and even though they’re kicking each other under the table, they’re smiling at you.

“I like you, Y/N… so… who are you going to choose?”

[imthatchishiyasimp]

HELLOOOOO!!!

I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.

I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.

It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.

HAVE A NICE READ 💚

“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”

The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.

It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.

The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.

There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.

‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.

I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.

“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.

“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.

The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.

“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”

The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.

A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.

I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.

I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.

“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”

“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”

“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”

“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”

“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”

I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”

“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.

Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.

“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”

We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.

Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.

“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”

“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.

Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.

“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.

“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.

He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.

“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”

“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”

“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”

Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.

“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.

“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”

“Hey” He says with a soft voice.

“GAME START.”

“Don’t die this time.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”

As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.

The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.

Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.

Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.

And it does.

Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.

I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.

There’s now thirteen of us.

And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.

“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.

They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.

Eleven participants left.

“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.

Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.

The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.

So now we are nine players still alive.

Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.

“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”

“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”

He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.

“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”

I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.

The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.

Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.

“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.

“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”

“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”

“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”

“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”

Already? We should start moving.

I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.

The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.

Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.

“Shall we, ma’am?”

“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”

From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.

“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.

Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.

“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.

He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.

The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”

He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.

“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”

There are three minutes left.

Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.

Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.

It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.

“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.

Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.

I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.

I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.

Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.

“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”

Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.

Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.

Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.

I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.

We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.

The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.

“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.

I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.

I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.

But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.

“GAME CLEAR.”

“CONGRATULATIONS.”

In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.

My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.

Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.

I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.

“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.

I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.

I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”

I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.

“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”

With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.

We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”

He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.

He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.

He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.

I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.

Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.

Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.

“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”

“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”

I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.

“You are an idiot.”

“And you are mean. Deal with it.”

I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.

We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.

I smile all the way to the Beach.

[blissfulparker]

Sugar and Spice Pt.1→Dad!Mob!Tom

Parings: single!dad!tom x baker!reader

Warnings: none yet! Mafia!Au so future mention of guns, death, drinking, sex, smoking

Summary: Tom is one of the youngest Mobsters known to London, youngest and most successful he seems perfect to people, feared by people. But his deepest secret is that he’s been raising a son all by himself. No one to be with since the birth of his son until he walks into the small bakery last minute for his sons birthday and meets you.

A/n; so obviously this is more of a part one to a series(I know I always start series and then get really distracted with life) but I wanted a fresh idea and a fresh fic to start off the new year. I love mob!tom and I love dad!tom and I was hoping I could mix the two💗💗(also I have no idea how to do read more on mobile I’m so sorry😭)

Secrets. Everyone had secrets. Tom Holland, one of London’s richest, youngest, most successful mobsters, Had a son.

He had a beautiful boy named Riley, he raised him with only the help of his best friend and brothers. He was the smartest little boy he knew, charming and innocent. A little boy who didn’t know any of the dangers of the world just yet.

That was his secret. At age 20 he was rushed into life with the beautiful boy and one of the most stressful and dangerous jobs to manage. He did everything he could for the boy, it was always his boy before his work. Stressful days where he could put a bullet into anyone who walked in on him turned better when his son came home from school with stories.

It had been six years since his little secret was born and it was his best and hardest secret to keep.

And now he had forgotten his sons birthday cake. He was turning six years old today and Tom promised the best Spider-Man cake with iron man, hulk, all of the avengers in the flavor chocolate. Now he had to find a baker that could do all of that in the time span of six hours.

After endless calls, endless hunting, he found a small bakery in the smallest corner of London that was willing to make his son's wild fantasy come true on his special day.

Suit and all, rushed from work, Tom had walked into the small bakery. Ready to pick up the birthday cake and make his sons birthday the best one.

He was greeted with the smell of sugary frosting and warm baked goods. A career so diffrent from his as he was a man with blood on his hands and the people working here were the ones with the flour.

“Can I help you?” Your voice is soft and takes him by surprise. Not the voice of the older women he spoke with on the phone.

You’re covered in flour, chocolate frosting wiped on your apron and you rinse your hands in the sink. But you have a soft face, one that calms him just by looking at. As if you never saw a day of anger, of pain, of anything. You were simply a poem he wanted to read.

It takes him a minute to come back. He hadn’t gotten with anyone seriously since the birth of his son. Overwhelmed with his work and his son, he also had feared the idea of no women being good enough for his son.

Although his son longed for a mother, he could tell. He could tell the stories at bedtime weren’t as good as if it were a mother’s, every Mother’s Day was missed and he knows deep down that every nightmare would be better if he was cuddled up in a mother’s arms. Tom could give him everything except a mother.

“I’m here to pick up a cake.” He clears his throat. You notice the watch, the expensive suit and his scent, a deep wood, an expensive scent. He had money yet of all the bakeries he chose it was the nearly dying one. “It’s Uh, it’s my sons birthday and I’m here to pick up the cake. My name is Tom. I spoke on the phone earlier...with someone…” he stuttered nervously as if you might not have it ready. Laughing softly you find his order on the computer. Even your laugh was angelic.

“Sophie? The older women?” You ask and he nods.

“Yes, yes!” He didn’t know why he was nervous, awkward even. He shoved his hands in his pocket to keep calm.

“Avengers cake…” you look up at the man and he has a red tint to his cheek.

“My son, he’s turning six.” He didn’t spark you to have a dad look, you had seen fathers come in and out of this bakery. Most of the men in their 40s and stressed over possibly a my little pony cake or cookies for a last minute club meeting to make their kid smile. Most fathers had the same look though, tired and worn out in possibly old sneakers and a wrinkled shirt. This man had a different look.

“Ahh,” you search for a ring but don’t see one. A single, young dad who looks to have everything together. A book. He looked like a character from a book. “I’ll be right back with that.” You smiled before turning to the back. Leaving the man alone, in the lobby of the bakery.

“Quite the last minute cake.” You came out with the large cake done beautifully. Done with red and blue frosting and on top was all the small figurines that you had to search for. But nonetheless, it was gorgeous.

“Your wife must be lucky to have a man willing to run out and surprise their kid so last minute.” You sparked the conversation in hopes that you would see if the man is single or not.

“Oh, no, just myself.” He pulls out his card ready to swipe and you press down on your lips. Maybe he didn’t want a girlfriend, he was young but he looked to have his hands full with a six year old and a clearly good job.

“Well, then he’s lucky to have such a great father.” You tell. He tries to hide his red tinted cheeks again but you notice.

“Your boyfriend must be lucky to have someone who must always smell like cakes.” He flirted back.

For the first time in years, Tom had flirted back with a girl without the intentions of sex. He flirted back without needing a drink in his hands and to be at a bar. He flirted back not hiding that he had a son at home that could potentially turn away a girl looking for fun.He flirted back as just himself. And so far you had seemed to like that.

“No boy.” You laugh softly.

Your eyes flicker and stare into his. They are light brown, light brown laced with a sort of mystery. A light brown laced with charm, lust and a secret.

“Well then,” was all he could think of. His game was off, he’s realized that. The dangerous mobster got nervous around you.

“Well then.” You repeated.

It’s a mistake. He will be making a mistake if he falls for you. The mistake of ruining your life as he doesn’t know how far he could go protecting the ones he loves. Riley’s life was in danger every day and he hated that, he hated the women he once loved for leaving him all alone but was also given the best gift of a son.

Although the nappies and endless nights of screaming were hard, he would do anything to protect his son. And if he were to find the future mother of his son, he would do anything to protect her but her life would be just as risk as his.

Maybe it would be you making the mistake. He would be selfish to go after you.

“I hope your Riley has a happy birthday.” You say and he’s taken aback. He doesn’t know how you know it until he looks down and written in black frosting in cursive is ‘Happy birthday Riley’.

“Well, with the best decorated cake i think I have ever seen in my life, I’m sure he will not forget this birthday. I might not either.” He smiles at you one last time and you look down trying to hide the burning smile that wanted to spread across your face.

Once he leaves the building you turn and rub your hands over your face, finally letting yourself grow a smile that has been hiding the entire time.

For the first time in awhile, a man has made you smile.

-

“Happy birthday to you.”

Smoke from the candles filled the room. Six years, Tom had offically spent six years of his life raising his son. Being a single father as well as the youngest Mobster, Tom had his struggles.

“A girl at the bakery?” Harrison, Toms best friend, smirked as the two of them washed up dishes while the kids played in the backyard after eating their cake.

“It’s nothing Haz. I’m busy, remember?” He scrubbed too hard at the plate as he placed in into the dishwasher.

For a man who had maids most days, he wanted it to just be family and friends in the house on his sons birthday.

“Yeah. But Riley isn’t.” He commented looking over to the boy who laughed with his friends from school he had invited to celebrate the special day.

With a silent sigh and a stubborn mindset, Harrison was right. Tom was busy but Riley was a child who needed a mother.

“See? I’m right. Once again. Why don’t you go back and get your number so you can get your dick-“ his best friend started but Tom didn’t want to hear the rest of it. Rolling his eyes and turning off the water, he walks over the ruined cake and places it on the counter.

No words leave Toms mouth and Harrison lets out a sigh. Coming over to his best friend, his best friend who seemed to have the world on his shoulders only at the age of 25.

“Tom, this isn’t just about Riley. This is about you as well. This is about you finding someone and finally having some peace because your life right now is simply just working and at the end of the day being a father. Sooner or later, Riley will realize his dad is always locked up in his office and maybe a women can change some things.” Harrison placed his hand on his shoulder before walking off.

“Daddy!” He hears the excitement of his sons voice come into the room.

“Hey Bubs!” He lifts up the boy. He plants a kiss on his cheek and he holds his new Spider-Man toy in hand.

“Can Jasper sleep over? He says he has a Spider-Man too and that we can play together. Can he please?” He pleads. For Riley, Harrison’s words echo in his head about the women.

Tom sighs, if he had a mother who wasn’t apart of a mafia like him. He would simply not have to deny his boy sleepovers and simple things.

“Sure.” He sighs thinking of how he will have to move his 8am meeting to the afternoon.

His best friend was right. He needed someone and maybe that someone would be you. Maybe he should for once take the leap and go for you.

Please leave feedback it helps me out and let’s me know if you want another part!

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[aot-brainrot]

Spartacus ~ Hotchniss x Reader

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), restraints (handcuffs), edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, mild choking, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x Emily Prentiss. (polyamorous triad).

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Aaron had been tense all week. Between work, wrangling Jack, and then still having to find the time and energy to show some attention to me and Emily, it was completely wearing him out. On Friday night, when they had come home from work, I offered to make dinner for us while they went to shower and change into comfortable clothes. After dinner, Emily took Jack up to bed and tucked him in for the night, meanwhile, I sent Hotch up to bed. I didn’t want either of them to have to put any work into anything this weekend— especially Hotch. He deserved a break. I mean, we all did, but he did the most out of the three of us, and I could tell that it was really getting to him. So, my plan was to keep them in bed, or at least the house, for as long as I could. It started with making sure that he went upstairs while I cleaned the dishes and the kitchen.

As I was finishing up, I heard Emily coming down the stairs. I turned, my hands covered in soapy water, pointing back to the stairs, insisting that she let me do this on my own. For once, I just wanted to do something for them and not have one of them argue about it or pull the Dom card in order to make sure I wasn’t alone. Just this once. I wanted to make this weekend about them. That wasn’t too much to ask, right? Yeah, well, Emily didn’t seem to get the memo, because even though I practically ordered her to go back upstairs, she only grinned and then joined me at the sink. She didn’t help me, to be fair. She wrapped her arms around me, rested her chin on my shoulder, and she started nibbling on my earlobe as she watched me wash all of the dishes one by one.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Her hands started wandering, making me tense up and freeze. “Don’t stop.” So, that was how it was going to be. I finally got around to doing chores, and her game was to distract me. What would Aaron say? Truth be told, he’d be proud of me, however, he would scold Emily for getting me worked up on purpose so that I would abandon the task of cleaning up the kitchen. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go upstairs.”

“We can’t tonight. He’s tired.”

“No, he’s just stressed. But you know what helps with stress…” Her hand made its way between my thighs, her palm pressing against my clit until I let out a gasp. “I said, don’t stop.” I started washing the dishes faster. “Good girl.” She put her fingers over my clothed clit now in order to add more stimulation, but still not enough to get me anywhere close to the edge. It was barely enough to just tell me that I needed her. “I think I might know a way to make Sir relax… Do you want to know my idea?” I nodded. “Answer me.” Her other hand grabbed my cheeks roughly.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She released my face. “I think that if we teamed up against him, he wouldn’t be able to stop us from finally topping him. I’ve always wanted to, but he’s too damn stubborn about it. But together…” She chuckled wickedly in my ear. “He’d be our little mess.”

I whined slightly in response to her words. I could just picture Aaron writhing underneath us as we pinned and fucked him. Fuck. “He wouldn’t like that.”

“No?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would be breaking about a thousand rules.”

“Not if we both take the heat for it.” Her fingers pressed harder. “It’s like Spartacus. He can’t punish the both of us.”

Jack’s plastic cup clattered in the sink when I dropped it in order to grab onto the counter and hunch forward. “Fuck.”

“Does that feel too good, baby?” she teased, pulling her hand away from me. I rolled my hips back against her, a silent plea for more, but she didn’t give in. “What do you think about my idea?”

I was literally too fucked to think about anything. Up, down, left, right— none of it mattered until I felt her touch again. If it meant giving into her terrible plan that would only end up with both of us getting punished— something she was sure wouldn’t happen— I would do it just to encourage her to put her hands on me. So, I nodded. “I like it, Mistress.” I left the rest of the dishes for the morning. I turned to face her. “As long as we really do it together. No giving into whatever he says or does.”

Emily grinned. “That’s it, baby girl.” She held my face steady with her index finger and thumb on my chin so that she could kiss me roughly. When I started leaning into her, kissing her back with even more eagerness and excitement, she pulled away. “Come on.” She grabbed my hand before leading me through the house. “Play it smooth. Get into bed with him and try cuddling close enough so that you can grab his hands when I give the signal.”

“What’s the signal?”

“When I come out of the bathroom, I’ll lean over to kiss him, which will distract him. That’s the signal. Just pin his hands and I’ll do the rest.” We approached the second floor of the house. I stopped, tugging at her hand slightly to warn her that I wasn’t taking another step yet. “What is it?” she asked, worried.

I searched her eyes. “I just really fucking love you.”

Her smile returned. “I love you, too.”

With that out of the way, Emily continued to lead me, walking us down the hallway and to our bedroom. As we walked in, she released my hand so that she could go to the bathroom and I could close the door. Aaron was reading a book on our bed. I thought he would have been trying to fall asleep already considering I thought he was exhausted, but Emily told me that she didn’t think he was tired at all, and this was proving it. My hope was that he was still somewhat tired. If he was off his game enough, it would make my job of pinning him down only that much easier. If I failed to do the one thing Emily had tasked me with, this whole mutiny thing was going to come back to bite us in the ass, which I really didn’t need when the whole point was to help Aaron relax for a bit. Losing control did that. The best part about being submissive was that I could just turn off my mind and leave everything up to Emily and Aaron. While Emily was a switch between being a Dom for me and a submissive to Aaron, he was strictly a Dominant, which probably took a toll on him. Considering the week he had, he probably just needed to turn off his mind. I knew all too well what that felt like.

I crawled into bed with him. He released the book with one hand so that he could drape it around me when he realized that I was going to cuddle against his side and under his arm. He was wearing his pajamas now. The soft touch of his navy blue sleep shirt rubbed against my cheek as I laid down and nuzzled against him, feeling how warm and tense he was. He rested his hand on my hip. As I laid there, my chest pressed against his side, the two of us tangled in each other’s arms, I debated how I was going to handle grabbing his hands. He was hardly sitting up, enough room between his head and the headboard for me to hold his wrists above him; but the real question was how the fuck was I going to get them there? His hands were on me and his book, which meant that I was going to have to contort in some ridiculous way in order to grab both of them while gaining the upper hand to ensure that he wouldn’t be able to escape.

And then I heard the bathroom door open. Well, it was now or never. I craned my neck slightly to get a look at Emily who was walking out of the bathroom, now dressed in only her lingerie, and her hair had been teased a bit. I suddenly understood just how far she was going to make sure that Aaron would be distracted enough to make catching him off guard easy, and also that she wanted to make it very clear to him that even though I was in on this little plan of hers, she would be the one to take all of the blame for this if he ever decided to punish us for this.

“What’s that for?” Aaron asked, peeking up at her through his lashes.

Emily shrugged nonchalantly as she made her way towards the bed, and then crawled on until she was straddling his thighs. “It got too hot.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure.”

I started running my hands over his chest. I could feel his abs flexing in response to the sensitive and unexpected touch. Emily looked at me briefly. “Aren’t you hot, baby?” she pouted, leaning forward to kiss him. He set his book to the side. Just as she dodged his lips at the very last second, she leaned back, and I raced to reach for both of his hands and pin them over his head.

Aaron’s eyes widened. “What the fuck—” Emily cut him off by kissing away his words. He moaned slightly. She barely pulled away from him, but she adjusted so that her weight on his thighs was forcing him to hold still. He tugged against my hold, but I was sitting up now, which gave me a little more strength than he had— though he was naturally strong because of how much he worked out. “Stop it,” he commanded us both with a growled. Emily shook her head and bit her lip. “Fucking brat—” He let out a loud moan when Emily passed her palm over his length that was growing hard in his flannel pajama pants. His head was thrown back against the pillow now, giving his eyesight a clear shot to me, allowing me to see the mix of anger and pleasure that was brewing in his iris’. “Y/N, stop this.”

I looked at Emily. She reassured me with a nod. “Sorry, Sir,” I apologized while shifting on the bed until I was above him, my calves sitting on his wrists to hold him down. I blushed at Emily. “Did I do well, Mistress?”

“You did so well, baby girl.” She pulled me in for a kiss.

Aaron struggled beneath us. “I swear to god, the two of you are going to regret this—”

“Shh…” Emily cooed to him. “We just want to make you feel good, baby.”

“Sir,” he corrected through gritted teeth.

“Not right now.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Emily passed her palm over him again. “I said not right now, baby. We’ve got the upper hand here, not you.”

Aaron looked up at me. “I’ll make you a deal. Both of you. If you stop this now, I won’t punish you later.”

“Not a chance.”

But I wasn’t so sure. The deal itself sounded enticing. I mean, we hadn’t gone too far yet, and we hadn’t really done enough to deserve any kind of punishment. Okay, maybe we deserved a few spanks— but that was it, and I could live with that. However, if Emily and I decided to proceed, things would be nice for a while like a calm before the storm since it would be pleasurable for all of us, but the second we were caught off guard, too, Aaron was going to get us back for whatever we would inevitably do to him. But I promised Emily that we would do this together. I made her promise that we wouldn’t give into anything he would say or do. That included deals. If she wasn’t going to give into her tricks, then neither was I, as skeptical as I was.

“Sorry, Sir,” I said again, this time with a teasing grin.

“Fine,” he groaned, rolling his hips in response to the way that Emily was playing with him. “Fine… Then, whatever Emily does to me, Y/N, just know that I’ll punish you for it.”

I froze. “What? That’s not fair.”

He grinned. “Then, you better get her to stop….” he trailed off when she reached into his pants and grabbed ahold of his erection. “Fuck—”

I felt his hands knead my thighs since that was just about as far as he could move, and since he wasn’t going to get out of it, he must have figured that the least he could do was play with me. It worked. The slightest touch set me off, making me feel the throbbing and heat growing between my legs. In fact, it was impossible to not notice it, because every time Emily did something to Aaron, his grip hardened on me, making me practically fall forward until Emily caught me. With one hand, Em was holding my chin to keep me upright, but her other hand was incredibly preoccupied with slowly teasing every inch of Aaron’s cock, twitching in her palm in response to the slow, sensitive, and calculated movements she was making. It was barely enough. Just like downstairs when she was teasing me, she hardly did enough to just get him worked up. But the way he was squirming under me was a tell that he loved it.

Emily kissed my cheek. “Touch yourself, baby girl.”

“Don’t fucking think about it,” Aaron hissed under me.

“It’s okay,” she cooed in my ear.

Well, shit. On one hand, she had just given me permission to the one thing I wanted most— which she knew would still prove to be a task considering I was still wearing all of my clothes, and my legs were a little preoccupied with holding Aaron down. But, on the other hand, Aaron was not having it. The second I’d lean back ever so slightly to listen to Emily’s command, I’d be setting myself up to get punished later. Eh. C'est la vie, right?

So, I reclined, resting my back against the headboard, making sure that my calves (practically my knees, at this point) were still trapping Aaron. As I snuck my fingers past the waistband of my pants and underwear, I hissed and bucked my hips. Emily smirked. The second my fingers made contact with my clit, I let my head fall back against the wall and my eyes screwed shut as a moan fell from my lips. Emily had made me so wet downstairs. I hadn’t really noticed the full extent of it until I was there, rubbing it around the sensitive nub that was begging for more attention so that I could inevitably cum. I gripped Aaron’s hair with my free hand.

“Don’t cum yet, baby. There’s no fun in that,” Emily said.

I pouted while looking at her. She was working faster on Aaron’s length now, even going as far as to shifting around on the bed so that she could lick his tip ever so slowly. He thrashed.

“Em, stop,” he begged lightly.

“Aw,” she sulked sarcastically on his behalf, following it up with a wicked chuckle. “Does that feel good?” He nodded his head and bucked up into her hand. Emily immediately pulled her touch away, tsking her tongue at his disobedience, but still admiring the way his cock twitched and stood at attention naturally. “Do you think he deserves to cum?” she asked me. I couldn’t seem to respond because all of my focus had shifted onto the way I was getting close to my orgasm, and I was worried that with the way my legs were shaking, Aaron could potentially take advantage of that weakness in order to get out of this. Emily wasn’t having it, though. “Answer me, slut,” she demanded, slapping my thigh.

I shook my head. “No, Mistress. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Aaron growled lightly in response to the way we were talking about him like he wasn’t even in the room, which was demeaning on its own, but then to add discussing his orgasm denial on top of that… well… maybe we just shouldn’t let him out of this. Ever. It was safer that way in the long run. Still, when Emily lowered her mouth onto him, it shocked me when he grabbed my thighs as hard as he could. I whimpered. I was getting really close. The closer my peak got, the faster I went, racing towards my own orgasm that I had been so desperate for ever since Emily put her hands on me downstairs. I tightened my grip in Aaron’s hair.

“Mistr—” I moaned while rolling my hips. “Mistress…” I was a panting, breathless, moaning mess; and neither of them had even done anything else to me yet. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when they would finally put their hands on me and put in this same amount of effort— if not more, actually. “May I cum, please?”

“Cum,” she quickly answered after releasing Aaron from her mouth.

I let out gasps and curses as I tipped over the edge. My walls contracted around nothing, the empty feeling plainly obvious to me in that moment, but it didn’t deter me from pushing through my powerful orgasm. I let out a quiet, almost helpless scream, “Thank you, Mistress—”

And then the unexpected happened. Actually, you know what, I should have seen it coming. I suspected earlier that this could present to be a problem later on down the road, but I didn’t think it would be so quick, and I didn’t think that it would be so vicious. One minute, I was falling apart, my whole body giving out in response to my orgasm washing through me, the next thing I knew, Aaron had used my weakness and his strength against me in order to throw me off balance, giving him the chance to flip me over onto the bed, his hands on my thighs holding me so that I didn’t go flying and so that I couldn’t escape. Suddenly, he had one hand on my neck, the other one found Emily’s neck. She paused, eyes wide. I gulped. This was exactly what I had been afraid of. We thought that by teaming up, he would be outnumbered, and with how stressed he was, maybe he would give into our game; but that wasn’t Aaron Hotchner’s style. We should have known. The second an opportunity to switch control had arisen, he took it. I barely even felt my orgasm fade away because I was a little more concerned with his hold that was increasing pressure around my neck.

Aaron pulled Emily around like a rag doll, forcing her to lay down next to me on the bed. We both clawed at his hands, but it didn’t seem to matter, because he wasn’t going to let us go, no matter how much we struggled, because we had refused to let him go only moments ago, no matter how hard he struggled. Touche.

“I warned you,” he said to me.

“Sir—”

“No, no, no. You don’t get to talk. Neither of you do.”

I whimpered and kicked uselessly against the bed. Spartacus. That was the example Emily used downstairs. She said that if we stuck together, there was no way he could choose one to punish over the other— but what she failed to remember was that he had zero qualms with the idea of punishing us both simultaneously or at different points. Telling by the way he was pinning us by our necks, I was going to assume that the time for reckoning had already come, and that meant that we were absolutely fucked; meanwhile, he would get off on whatever torture he had in store for us.

He squeezed our necks until both of our breaths hitched. “Don’t move. Understood?” We both nodded as far as we could, considering his hold. “Good.” He released us roughly. Both Emily and I gasped for breath. As we shivered and coughed away the feeling of his thumb digging into our skin, Aaron shimmied around until he was able to grab ahold of my pants and yank them down my legs. And then went the panties. “Strip each other the rest of the way,” he demanded while getting off the bed. “Now.” He headed into the closet, probably grabbing the black box, if I had to guess.

Emily and I turned to each other. My eyes searched hers for a moment, fear running through both of us— but it was still a good fear that had us excited for what was going to come. Though, maybe we shouldn’t have been too excited. But I just had to ignore what Aaron was doing in the closet so that I could steady my shaky hands and reach out for the clasp of Emily’s lingerie bra. She moved her hair out of the way so that it was easier for me to do while completing the task blindly. She leaned in to kiss me quickly. I melted for a moment just as the clasp came undone, and I inched closer to her, letting her roll over me and pin me down on the bed. Our ankles played with each other as she continued to kiss me roughly and simultaneously slide her bra off her shoulders.

“My— My shirt…” I mumbled against her. We still had to finish stripping each other before Aaron could get back. She pulled away from me just enough so that I could sit up and after she was finished with peeling my shirt off, I could help her wiggle out of her panties. She pushed me back against the mattress the second we were nude. My fingers slid into her hair and twisted into a gentle grip. “He didn’t want us to move.”

“We’re already in trouble. What’s the harm?”

The faster we moved, the more obvious the shaking bed was, encouraging Hotch to come back to find us breaking basically every rule we had. There he was, holding the black box, visibly pissed off. Emily and I didn’t stop. She kept me right where I was, encouraging me to keep touching her and to let her slide her knee between my legs so that I could hump her thigh. When he slammed the black box down on the bed, that was when we finally pulled away-- more like jumped away, to be fair.

“You really wanna help them get off, huh?” Hotch asked, pulling Emily off of me. “Fine.” He tied Emily’s hands behind her back with ease, even though she was trying to fight against him. “Open.” I watched as he gripped her jaw and stuffed her panties into her mouth. She finally stopped fighting-- just long enough for her to pout up at him, begging for mercy in this whole situation, but he wasn’t going to be that nice. “Such a brat.” He spanked her. “How about you?” he asked me, grabbing another length of rope and coming around the bed. “Will you be good for me now?”

I nodded urgently. “Yes, Sir. I promise.”

He pushed me on my side so that he could tie my hands behind my back, too. “Good girl...” He wasn’t as rough with me when he put my panties in my mouth. “The two of you thought it would be so funny to fuck with me. Is it funny now?” Neither of us said anything as we watched him grab a hitachi wand and another length of rope from the box. “I don’t tolerate Y/N being a brat. Ever. You...” he cooed as he hit Emily’s ass again, “I expect it from you, but not my bunny. You’re just a bad influence, I think... A bad influence that needs to be taught a lesson. A lesson about not corrupting my good bunny.”

Hotch worked the toy between me and Emily while ordering us to move as close to each other as possible. I whimpered. I was so close to her, yet with our mouths full and our hands tied, there was no way to touch each other. I hated it. But that was Hotch’s point, I knew that.

“I’m keeping you two like this for at least an hour. The first one to cum goes on no-touch for a week.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him. He knew that I was more sensitive than Emily. She could hold her orgasms back longer and better than I could! That was his other point, though, and I knew that by reminding myself that he was punishing me for everything Em did to him. Fuck.

“Good luck.”

Once the rope was wrapped around mine and Emily’s hips, ensuring that we would stay close, holding the toy in place between us, he turned it on. I jolted and moaned. For some reason, it was tilted in my direction, hitting right against my clit while Emily hardly got everything. Hotch realized what was happening, but he didn’t move it. All he did was tease by telling me that if I didn’t want to cum before her, I needed to figure out a way to make her cum first. So, I cried and rested my head against Emily’s shoulder as I started grinding around, trying to move the toy to face her instead, but all it did was stimulate me further. At least I got it to budge. Now it was against both of us, and she was trying to push it back my way. The friction of our bodies was too much. Everything from the kitchen downstairs to Emily letting me cum a few minutes ago to the alluring thought of trying to make the other cum for Hotch’s game was... it was overwhelming. The more I struggled, the closer I got to my orgasm. I just couldn’t hold it. Emily was so much better at it than I was, and I hated her for that.

“Aw, bunny...” Hotch cooed while laughing. “You’re already close, aren’t you?” He sat at the foot of the bed and kneaded my thigh with his large hand. I nodded helplessly. “Don’t hold back for me, baby. Go on. Cum. Everything you give me today will be the last you get until next week. Don’t you wanna feel good for me?” I nodded again. “Then, cum.”

I cried into my panties and shook against Emily as I came. She kept fighting to move the toy towards me-- not for the sake of the game anymore, but because she wanted to see me struggle more. Very Dom of her.

One orgasm came after another. The more I fought to take the toy away, the worse the overstimulation got, and at some point, I couldn’t even fight back anymore. The toy had found a perfect spot between me and Emily, so as I painfully came again and again, Emily finally tipped over the edge, too; all while Hotch was watching and smirking. He was so proud of himself. He liked watching his subs squirm with pain and pleasure, unable to escape his torture. I shouldn’t have listened to Emily. I knew that this was all a bad idea-- I warned her that something like this would happen, but... but I gave in... and now I couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t until the end of the hour, when I was crying and shaking, that Hotch finally took pity on me. He reached between me and Emily, and he turned off the toy, letting us both brew there in our sweat, cum, and tears. He didn’t untie us, though. He was letting us catch our breath and cuddle while tied and helpless, and that was amusing for him. It wasn’t for us. We couldn’t protest, however, so we waited, and I stared at Emily with a look that said: “I’m never listening to you again.”

[everythingharrypotterblog]

charmed [7]: ‘night changes’ (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

brief summary: y/n and remus are both teachers at hogwarts and this is his first transformation where he is under wolfsbane. y/n remains in human form as he transforms. werewolf or not, all y/n ever feels is him.

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

7.

previously, in part 1:

“No, you don’t understand, it’s incredibly, extremely dangerous for a human to be around a were-“ Remus had tried to say, before Y/N had stood up and with a crack, disappeared. A single white dove hovered where she had stood, its wings flapping slowly to stay afloat.

“Y/N?”

With a crack, Y/N had appeared again.

“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.”

Y/N grinned. 

“What, you thought James, Sirius and Peter were the only ones to ever succeed at it?”

Remus still grimaced, shaking his head and looking down.

“It’s still too dangerous, I won’t risk it. I couldn’t possibly think of hurting you, I’m too dangerous-“

“Remus, stop it. You didn’t hurt Peter as a rat back in the day, you wouldn’t hurt a flinging bird either. Plus, I got a serious height advantage on you anyway.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him teasingly, transforming back again into the dove and flying up to the ceiling. Lupin wasn’t convinced.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t-“

The dove reappeared as Y/N and kneeled between Lupin’s legs, taking his face into her hands carefully. 

“Please? Let me be there for you. Let me try-“

“I-“ Remus winced in his crippling self-doubt.

“I promise, if I ever feel unsafe, I’ll fly away. I promise.”

Remus nodded. “I love you.”

Y/N was taken aback, but surged forward to press her lips against his.

“I love you too.”

It was the first time they had said that to each other.

+

The first full moon of the Hogwarts term was now but a day away. As it drew nearer, Remus got paler and grew more irritable, as it always was. 

The students never noticed, as he remained their kind Professor Lupin to them. Remus valued the staff and Dumbledore in extremely high regard, so he mainly kept to himself to avoid conflict.

However, his short temper was not 100% appeasable. 

He was presently in his office, leg anxiously bouncing. He couldn’t help but jitter as restless energy coursed through him. The door opened, and he  jerked his head in its direction, to see Y/N walk in, slightly anxious as well.

“Hi, love.” She said, making her way to him.

“He’s late.” Remus muttered.

“It’s Albus Dumbledore, what do you expect- maybe he had a Wizarding War in Luxembourg to stop before this or something.” Y/N joked, dragging a chair beside her and taking Remus’ hand.

His leg stopped bouncing. 

+

1980.

Remus sat in an armchair in the House of Black’s library, attempting to distract himself before the night would come, a transformation night.

Loud voices reverberated across the walls, and he usually wouldn’t have minded, but the full moon made him more irritable.

“Will you guys stop yelling!” He called out across the hallway to the room where James, Sirius and a couple other Order members were talking over each other.

Sirius shared a look with James and they shrugged, making a motion with their hand asking the others to lower their voices.

“Hi, guys!” In came Y/N’s voice, as she walked through the door after a day of work, setting down her jacket. She joined the table for a few snacks, before inquiring, “Where’s Remus?”

“Ah, in the library.” James said mindlessly, shuffling the pack of cards they were playing with. He spotted Y/N head for that direction, and attempted to add, “But I wouldn’t disturb him if I were-“

But Y/N already walked in the library, wanting to see her boyfriend. She found him buried in a book, sitting slightly uncomfortably in his clothes, as if his body was having pre-transformation aches.

“Hi, love.” She said gently.

Remus peered up from his book and instantly smiled, uncrossing his legs and patting at his lap. Y/N took a seat on him, and he wrapped his arms around her comfortably.

“How was work?” He grumbled, mouth kissing up her arm and shoulder.

“Oh, just the usual.”

He listened to her talk about her day, hugging her as she sat in his lap.

James heard faint sounds of their light voices from the other room, and laughed. Sirius shook his head, both of them amused by their friend’s drastic change in demeanor.

“Little fucker.”

+

Dumbledore appeared in Remus’ office not long after Y/N joined, with a goblet of familiar-looking blue smoke.

“Remus, Y/N. I took the liberty of bringing you your last dose myself, Severus has already done so much. So, you wanted to talk about the logistics of your upcoming transformation.”

Remus nodded, leaning forward and taking the potion.

“This is your first time with Wolfsbane, so we cannot be sure on how it will affect you. However, I trust that it has been brewed properly, so it should do its function, which is to maintain your mental state when you transform.”

“So technically, he could just stay and hide here in his office and wait for the night to be over?” Y/N asked Dumbledore, thumb rubbing over Remus’ hand.

“Yes. If the potion has been brewed correctly, which I am sure it has, Remus should transform into nothing but a harmless wolf. Of course, because this is your first time, if you still wish to go outside and-“

“Yes.” Remus interjected, once he finished the last of the potion. “I wish to still use the Whomping Willow, just to avoid all potential risk.”

“Very well.” Dumbledore smiled, bowing his head. “I have complete trust in you, so you do as you please.”

“And I should… I won’t forget who I am, I won’t lose my mind?” Remus asked.

“No.” Dumbledore confirmed. “Your mental state will stay intact.”

“Then, I can technically be in human form with him.” Y/N gasped as the idea jumped into her head. She was immediately met with startled looks from both Dumbledore and Remus, Dumbledore merely intrigued and Remus looking downright terrified. “I mean, I could be with him. Me, a human.” She added hastily.

Glancing at Remus’ fervently opposed look, Dumbledore merely stood up.

“I will leave that between you two to discuss. Goodnight, and good luck.” He said. “Oh! And one more thing.”

His eyes twinkled. “I hear talk amongst the students since the start of term. About you two.”

Remus and Y/N looked at each other nervously.

“Something about spotting their Charms and Defence teachers always being present in each other’s offices…”

Y/N mouth dropped in shock, trying to figure out how students could even know where they spent their nights, before Dumbledore laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“I kid, I kid, I have heard nothing of the sort. All that has reached my ears are the raving comments about your classes and subjects. Keep up the good work, Professors.” Dumbledore chuckled, and vanished into the fireplace.

Y/N stared dumbfounded at the spot he disappeared, before letting out a laugh.

“I-“ She blinked. “He is so weird, and can you believe, I almost let slip that I’m an Animagus-“

She stopped once she looked at her husband, whose expression was grave.

“Wha-“

“You cannot stay in human form with me.” He shook his head.

Y/N stayed silent for a second. “Why not? If this potion works, and we know it will, your-“

“We can’t be too sure!” Remus sighed. “Werewolves, we hunt for humans. We look for victims to bite, to… to-“

“If the potion doesn’t work, then I’ll just transform into a dove, like always.”

Remus met her eyes in a worried gaze.

“I’ve been a bird countless of times on your transformations, you’re still gonna let me do that, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You even said, werewolves look for humans, animal companions are harmless-“

“Which is exactly why you can’t be in human form, darling! The extreme danger that would put you in, you have no idea.”

“I have no idea?” Y/N pursed her lips, instinctively reaching out to her bicep, on which lay a tiny white scar.

Remus glanced at it too, with almost hatred and remorse in his eyes, as he sighed, hand tracing over it and kissing it.

+

“Maybe you should transform right now, my love.” Remus said anxiously as he, Y/N, James, Sirius and Peter walked through an abandoned part of the woods.

The sky was dark, and the clouds radiated a faint shimmer indicating the full moon would appear soon.

“I won’t transform until I absolutely need to.” Y/N said firmly, hand holding onto Remus’ tightly.

“She’ll follow our lead, Moony, don’t worry.” Sirius said.

Unintentionally, they stopped at a small hill, deeming the timing to be right.

“Y/N, it’s not too late, you could just Disapparate away, I-“ Remus said to Y/N.

“Remus. Stop. I’m not scared.” Y/N smiled at him, cupping his cheek. “You’re still you. And I love you, all parts of you. Nothing will change that, or you and me.”

Remus nodded, breathing quickly and pulled her in for a kiss, before the other Marauders beckoned Y/N to back away slightly as the moon started to peak.

The night changed in an instant.

The opal orb shone in the sky and in the moonlight, Y/N watched as Remus’ tall silhouette trembled, his body morphing into a werewolf.

Y/N was in awe. His body lengthened. His shoulders were hunching. Hair sprouted visibly from his head and neck and his hands curled into clawed paws. Straightening up, he howled to the sky, the sound echoing into the rest of the night.

Y/N’s mind went blank. The Marauders had transformed as she kept her eye on Remus. For a second, the werewolf’s eyes met hers, but before she could do anything, he lunged for her.

Adrenaline shot through her body as the werewolf made a swipe towards her, a big black dog jumping in between them just in time for Remus’ sharp claw to slightly graze her shoulder before she transformed with a crack, into a dove and flew up, batting her wings.

+

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” Remus whispered painfully, finger tracing over the small permanent scratch near Y/N’s shoulder.

“But I’m fine.” Y/N pursed her lips, eyes looking into Remus’ face imploringly. “Because I knew that it wasn’t you. And after the night ended, you cared for me so tenderly and lovingly. Gently. Because that is the real you.”

+

Remus soaked a warm towel for the millionth time as he sat Y/N on the toilet next to the sink to tend the small scratch she had acquired from him.

“Rem, it’s okay, do you realize that I’ve broken literal bones before! This is nothing.” Y/N said, letting him clean the patch of skin before taking both of his hands in hers. He kneeled in between her legs.

“I could never forgive myself for this, I’m so sorry-“

“Please. In the best way possible, shut up.” Y/N smiled, eyes welling up at the unnecessary look of remorse plaguing Remus’ face. “That wasn’t you. And nothing that I saw or felt last night changes who you are to me now.”

“You don’t…see me as a monster? You don’t even feel a tiny bit scared being with me right now?” Remus teared up.

Y/N smiled, eyes crinkling and letting tears fall down her cheeks. “I just feel you.”

+

Y/N woke up from her nap the night of the full moon to find Remus’ side of the bed empty. Eventually, she had gotten Remus to agree to let her accompany him as she always did, but in human form this time.

Getting up, she spotted Remus already at the door. She crossed her arms.

“Are you running away?” Y/N frowned, her husband jumping at getting caught.

“No, I-I figured I’d head out earlier.”

Y/N walked towards him, squeezing his shoulders.

“We talked about this. It’ll be okay.” Y/N reassured him. She saw the fear still in his eyes but he nodded, blinking some away and reaching to get Y/N’s coat for her.

They walked in the chilly night air, making their way to the Forest. Although this felt completely new, they had never done this at Hogwarts and they were expecting new results tonight, there was also a sense of déjà-vu present in the air.

Y/N had been helping Remus with every one of his transformations during their entire marriage and before, ever since she was 18. It’s been almost 13 years that they were in this together.

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

“Thank you for being here.” Remus said, squeezing her hand. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”

Y/N squeezed it back tightly, beaming at him. The moon was close to being fully out, and they stopped on a small hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut where it would appear in full view.

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

“Remember, if I make any sudden moves, you transform on the spot, okay?” Remus looked down at her, eyes full of conviction. Y/N nodded.

They both stood there, waiting, anticipation through the roof. They felt nauseous, from nervousness. The clouds began to fade, and more moonlight shined onto them. Slowly, they let go of each other’s hands and took a couple steps back from each other.

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

The first beam of light hit Remus as the full moon emerged.

But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

His neck began elongating, thick hair growing from his head and covering his back. His shoulders hunched as he grew taller, breaking through the material of his clothes. 

It will never change, baby

Y/N watched from a short distance as Remus morphed into a towering creature. Her incantation was ready in her head, just in case she had to transform into the dove.

It will never change, baby

Slowly, the full-fledge werewolf straightened up from its hunched over position. His eyes met Y/N’s and her body tensed, remembering. Instead of lunging at her, he sat down, his human-like eyes expressing gentleness. Y/N took a tiny step towards him.

“Remus?” She said, voice trembling.

The werewolf nodded.

Taking steps closer, she shakily got down onto her knees to join him on the ground. She lifted a hand, tentatively, and inch by inch, approached it to cup his cheek. At the contact, they both breathed out in relief.

“I just feel you.” Y/N smiled, tears flowing from her eyes.

It will never change me and you.

to be continued

a/n: as always i’d love to hear what u thought or what ud like to see of the series:)

tags @bicyhot1  @pink-hufflepuff  @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16  @gerardonmyway  @blueleonor  @suranne-doesstuff  @rxmusblxck  @spxllcxstxr  @littleemo477  @just12randomfandoms  @svnkissdd  @norrreee  @m4r13l3y  @jess6578  @rorysreallyrandom  @the-nightingale-not-the-lark  @archeve19  @wolfstarslovechild  @pan-pride-12  @x4kai4x  @chrrybmb-mp3  @reggieluna  @happyslittlekitten  @missemilygilmore  @all-things-fictional @strangefirething  @abitofeverythinggg  @yeahshewayout  @imfreeeeeee123  @harold-pothead  @lunnybunny12  @ellieblack11  @tugabooos  @joyfulbiscuit  @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292  @skateb0red  @secretsthathauntus  @siriusblackswhoree  @sabonbonn  @untraveled-road  @annabeljareau  @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand  @theeicedamericano​  @spencerreidlove  @flannellover67  @wishiwasdeadric  @becks7401​  @katsav17  @emmy-kitty13  @purritoqueen  @girl22334  @monicafebyana​  @talsiaa​  @sierrax023​  @axva03  @uhh-dk  @nataliahgrace​  

[hoshiwhxre]

Such a Good Little Girl. (kjk)

Kim Junkyu ; Such a Good Little Girl

{ requested ; "when,,, can you like uhhhhhh maybe write uhhh junkyu + corruption kink + size kink pleaseeeeeee" }

description: Junkyu wants nothing more than to corrupt the little sister of his best friend. He dreams about making you his personal whore, fucking you until you're shaking mess. He knows you want him too, he knows what he does to you, and eventually, he finds himself unable to resist you any longer.

typ: dom!junkyu x fem!reader

rating: NSFW

warnings: corruption!kink , size!kink , overst!mulation , male!receiving, fem!receiving , degradat!on , power!play , slight exh!bitionism , unprotected!sex , oral!sex just lots and lots of smut l o l

word count: 4.4k

     He’d never forget the first day he met you. That pastel pink dress grazing your mid thigh, those big round eyes gazing up at him, a sweet smile that always followed the lightest giggle. He remembered your stare following across the room, blushing everytime he satisfied your curiosities with a smirk or a sparkle. With each fluster under his dark eyes, a surge of adrenaline shot through his heart. God, how he'd do anything to corrupt that pretty little body of yours. He knew he could so easily command you, and he shivered at the thought of towering over you while you begged him to just fuck you.

He took the obvious power he had over you for advantage, revelling in your stammered reaction to his hand brushing your waist, or his breath tickling the back of your neck as his body pressed intimately against you.

Every little thing he did made you feel unusually hot, your thighs constantly pressed tight to keep your wet core from dripping down your skin. He caused your stomach to knot, your heart pounding everytime he held your gaze. You felt dizzy and weak whenever he was around.

But his silent teasing, no matter how much it dominated your entire body, lead to nothing. You were his best friend's little sister, and he knew that the things he was desperate to do to you were off the cards.

Well, they were until that day.

      "Move up," Jihoon demanded, striding towards the sofa, "we want to watch the game."

He was approaching too quickly for you too argue, and you hurriedly scooched along the leather, dragging your notes to the side and sighing impatiently.

      "Junkyu's here too, so make room," Jihoon waved his hand, indicating for you to either go upstairs or allow for more space.

The mention of your brother's friend's name made you tense, your heart stopping, filling you with a swarm of dizzying butterflies. Your eyes rose, meeting his familiar soft features as they stepped into the living room. You obediently moved up, gaze attempting to remain on your textbook as Junkyu slowly approached. Feeling him fall down between you and Jihoon, your breath caught, trying to act as though his presence wasn't heating your body up to unimaginable temperatures. His legs spread a little, his thigh brushing intimately against yours, and your eyes rolled back beneath your lids. His figure was still so much taller than you, even while sitting down, and you stole a glance at his large hands resting loosely between his legs. Glancing up, Junkyu's lips twitched, noticing your eyes dart hurriedly back to your book. His tongue passed over his lip as his orbs grazed over the big hoodie drowning your body, your small fingers playing absent mindedly with glossy pages.

      "Who's playing?" Junkyu drawled.

You shivered, his deep voice sending shocks to your tightening core.

      "We're playing against France," Jihoon replied, flicking through the channels.

With a nod, Junkyu dragged his hand towards his knee, his veins flexing beneath his smooth skin, drawing your breathless attention immediately down. You cursed yourself inwardly for how easily he distracted you, insisting you should leave, that you couldn't take anymore of the things he made you feel.

      "They're doing so badly," Jihoon groaned, loudly, leaning forward to place a more intense concentration on the game.

As he did, Junkyu's hand slipped down, grazing over your bare skin as his touch danced across your leg. Your lips fell open, stifling a gasp as his palm flattened firmly against your thigh, his thumb beginning to rub light circles into your goosebumped skin. Your eyes shot up, making sure Jihoon couldn't see, before darting towards Junkyu's head turned lazily towards the screen. Your breath was growing heavy, as his palm began gliding further up, pushing beneath your hoddies thick material.

      "If he'd just passed it to him, they could have made that goal," Junkyu drawled.

His fingers pushed up, grazing over your panties, and your breath hitched, watching his lips curl into a smirk - knowing he could feel your arousal beginning to seep through the thin material. He pressed in lightly, his touch hovering over your clothed clit, and ever so slightly your hips lifted up, struggling to control your body from magnetising to his grip. You could see stars, your judgement completely overwhelmed with arousal - and feeling him begin to retract, your hand shot down, desperately holding him in place. Junkyu's eyebow cocked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, feeling your small fingers dig into his large hand. Scoffing, his orbs shone with a playful glisten, as he guided your panties to the side. His stare floated over your brother, making sure he wouldn't see as Junkyu dragged two warm digits between your folds. Your teeth sank into your lip, a sharp pleasure controlling your chest as he ran a teasing circle over your pleading clit. Feeling you so wet for him made him shiver with excitement. Just as he applied pressure to the sensitive skin, your thighs clenched around his wrist, not used to the raw sensation now consuming your core. A satisfied grin licking at his mouth, Junkyu continued to play lightly with your clit, circular motions accompanied by slight squeezes and soft scratches. The new pleasure was fast climbing through stomach, hitting your chest with a breathy moan you immediately muffled with a cough.

      "If you're ill you can go upstairs," Jihoon called, attention thankfully still fixed on the screen.

      "I'm fine," you croaked, your weak voice bringing a smug delight to Junkyu's spine. He could feel you twitching, writhing beside him, your pleasure uncontrollable as he allowed his roughening movements to fasten on your throbbing clit. Your fingers collapsed against his hand, your teeth pulling at your lip in sheer desperation. A strange sensation was beginning to engulf you, shooting through your body, flying to your brain, getting higher, and higher, and suddenly...

No.

Junkyu's hand dragged from between your tensed thighs, leaving you with an unfair emptiness to override the previous pleasure. Lazily, he brushed his fingers through his hair as if nothing had happened, leaving your stilled body breathless beside him. You didn't dare look, afraid you'd explode if Junkyu met your gaze with those deeply intense eyes. Swallowing to rejuvenate your dry mouth, your trembling arms hauled yourself up, forcing a stammered salutation before rushing hurriedly from the room.

      "What's her issue?" Jihoon frowned, "was she okay?"

Shrugging, Junkyu's stare danced over the empty doorway, his tongue pressing into his teeth in a desperate attempt to control the adrenaline surging through his heart.

      "I think so," he murmured, "she seemed pretty happy."

You, meanwhile, were holding shakily onto the kitchen's marble counters, your head so low it was nearly breaking from it's neck. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding against it like a prisoner. Every technique in the book had been tried to calm yourself down, but fuck, Junkyu's fingers were burnt into your memory, the tingles replaying through your core while your lids encased his smirk in your eyes.

The sound of your front door slamming shut shocked you from your daze, and you released a wheezy breath of relief. He'd gone. You no longer had to bear the thought of him sitting in the other room, completely unattainable for the desires you found yourself desperate for. Almost as soon as Junkyu had left your mind, he was back again, thickening the arousal that was once more pooling between your legs. As if controlled by magic, your hand was lowering, body pressed against the kitchen counter as you slipped beneath your hoodie, eyes misting as soon as you felt your wet drip from your panties. You wanted to touch yourself, to cum right here, to release yourself from this despair he'd left you in.

But your hand immediately retracted, remembering where you were and what you were about to do. You couldn't.

     "It's okay, just do it, imagine your fingers are mine, princess." That low drawl sent your core into fiery mania, and you immediately spun around, shaky gaze falling on Junkyu's familiar smirk leaning against the kitchen doorway. You choked on your words, your breath scratching your throat.

     "What's up, y/n? Cat's got your tongue?" slowly, he began to approach, dark eyes watching you intently, "what have I done to you, hm? Touching yourself right here, I've really got you that desperate?"

Your heavy breath met his chest as his palms pressed into the kitchen side, trapping you in. He bowed down, soft lips hovering over yours as he forced you against the cold metal of drawer's handles.

     "Junkyu," you whispered.

     "That's my name," he tilted his head, watching you melt before him, "say it again if you want. In fact, why don't you scream it?"

You whimpered, and Junkyu laughed, reaching up to brush your hair behind one ear. His jaw cocked towards yours, his eyes trained on the lower half of your face, and you suddenly nodded, palms shooting up to hook behind his neck. He immediately satisfied your desire, moulding his mouth against yours while his hands firmly snatched up your waist. Feeling Junkyu's tongue slip between your lips, you met him with a soft moan, allowing him to guide you slowly from the counter. His tall body dominated you easily, silently ordering you to move with it, his heavy palms keeping you tight to his chest.

     "B-But Jihoon..." you mumbled.

     "He's gone to pick Jaehyuk up," Junkyu purred, beginning to guide you towards the staircase, "let's hope he's away long enough to finish what I started earlier."

You whined in agreement as he pushed his mouth once more to yours, deepening the kiss as you both staggered to the second floor. Eyes flickering around, Junkyu targeted your room immediately, roughly shoving you over the threshold and kicking the door shut behind him. He paused for a moment, taking in your awating body stood before him. He'd waited so long to see you submissive for him, completely overcome with lust, waiting for him to just fuck you.

      "You're always such a good little girl, aren't you?" Junkyu breathed, eyes darkening as he stepped towards you, his palm reaching out to push your hoodie into the curves of your body. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over the skin just below your ear, the tip of his tongue drawing slow, delicate circles. You moaned quietly, head tilting to the side as his teeth pricked you with a small bite. Mouth raising to your ear, his warm breath forcing them to twitch with anticipation, he chuckled.

      "I'm going to make you my own dirty fucking whore."

You weakened against him, legs threatening to give way, lust consuming your every limb. Thoughts and desires you'd never felt in your entire life were spilling from your brain, yearning for Junkyu to abuse his power over you.

      "Please," you whimpered, "I-I'll do anything for you..."

      "You want me that bad, huh?" Junkyu smirked, his fingers brushing through your hair before abruptly snatching it back, "you won't even remember what innocence felt like when I'm finished with you."

Your moans hitched, as his hand guided your firmly to your knees.

      "Yes sir..."

Through hooded lids, you breathlessly watched him unbuckle and unzip his jeans, before holding out one steady palm. Your fingers took his obediently, a soft gasp sounding between your lips while he slowly slid your hand from the toned muscles of his lower stomach, to beneath the black material of his boxers. Grazing his hard shaft with an eager touch, you met Junkyu's sparkling eyes, and his lips curled into a satisfied grin as you almost immediately freed his cock from the cloth.

     "Aren't you an eager little slut? Hm? Can't you wait to have my cock in your mouth? Open up for me, baby."

Your lips parted, gazing up with big eyes as he took a firm hold of his stiff cock, pressing it against your flattened tongue with a hiss. One palm rested against the back of your head, fingers lightly massaging your scalp, as his hips drove slowly forward, pushing his cock deep between your cheeks. Hollowing immediately, your tongue wrapped around it’s shaft, tracing the veins as it approached the back of your throat. Forcing your head down, he encouraged you to take every inch, a low groan releasing as you gagged, setting the pace to exactly how he liked. Your nails dug into your thighs, lids screwing shut as his girth locked your jaw open wide. Every few moments, Junkyu would force your head to the base, holding you down to watch the strings of spit roll down your chin as you choked. Your eyes watered with his growingly faster thrusts, hips now bucking against your mouth as he fucked your face. With each thrust, Junkyu grunted a soft “fuck”, his fingers wrapped in your locks, his head rolling onto his shoulder with satisfied smirk. Your lids were drooping, eyes rolling back, your lips reddening from the friction of his cock passing back and forth, back and forth. By the second he seemed to enlarge against your tongue, his cock beginning to twitch uncontrollably, and yet he didn’t weaken once, his grip remaining firm, his hips remaining rhythmic. As your ears filled with his breathy groan, your head was abruptly yanked back, allowing you to suck in a shaky breath of air. Chest heaving, Junkyu gazed down through hooded eyes at the spit staining your chin, at the mascara beginning to collect beneath your lashes, and he reached down to graze his thumb over your trembling lower lip.

     “What would your brother say if he knew how much of a desperate whore you are for me?” he said gruffly, sharply pinching your chin between thumb and forefinger, “stand up.”

Legs shaky, you stumbled to your feet, remaining still as Junkyu strode slowly around your pathetic figure. His eyes raked your every detail, before he lowered down on the edge of your mattress, lazily leaning back against his palms.

     “Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

Your fingers immediately snatched down, curling beneath the hem of your hoodie to fumble it over your head, revealing a lacy bra and panties for Junkyu’s stare to consume. Throat dry, he swallowed, a rush of dizzying arousal completely knocking him off guard, and his hand lowered to find his hard cock brushing against his lower abdomen. Stroking it slowly, he watched as you removed each item of lingerie, your body small and bare for him to easily ruin.

     “What’s up, baby?” Junkyu teased, meeting your pleading, needy eyes as they held the sight of his cock leaking with pre cum, “you want me to fuck you? Do you? Why don’t you get on your knees and beg me.”

Once more, you fell to the floor, fingers sinking into the carpet as you steadily crawled towards his spread thighs, yearning to touch him again.

     “Please,” you whimpered, “fuck me, please.”

     “Oh, that’s not good enough,” Junkyu purred, tilting his head, “try harder, angel.”

     “Junkyu please,” your voice cracked, “I need you so badly, I want you inside of me I...”

Patting his thigh, Junkyu nodded once, eyes sparkling as he spoke the demand.

     “Come for a test ride,” he murmured.

You climbed up, his legs shifting slightly to provide you with a more comfortable seat on his lap. His palms took hold of your waist, raising your torso to hover you momentarily of his erect cock. Meeting your eyes, one hand guided the tip deep beneath the dripping folds of your pussy, allowing your arousal to wrap eagerly around his shaft. Easily, he pressed your body a few inches down, and your fingers shot out to dig deep into your shoulders, gasping sharply.

     “W-Wait,” you stammered, “it hurts, i-it’s too big...”

Eyes flickering with a surge of pleasure, Junkyu nodded.

     “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.

Your head immediately shook, tilting your hips a little to allow a few more inches in, the sting of his cock stretching your pussy forcing you to still.

     “I’m a virgin,” your voice was hushed, “is that...is that okay?”

     “I know,” Junkyu’s warm breath tickled your lips, “are you sure you want to carry on?”

     “Yes...a-ah...” your voice caught as you winced, Junkyu encouraging you to take the remainder of his length, “J-Junkyu...”

Your sweet voice singing his name filled his ears, overcome with lust as you struggled to contain his girth. He travelled his touch over the curves of your body, moulding your breaths in his fingers before returning to your stiff, anxious hips.

     “See how it feels, baby,” Junkyu breathed, beginning to securely lift your hips, watching your features contort as his cock slid once more deep into your pussy. Continuing the pace, he allowed you to adjust, before you began to relax into him, hips winding in coordination to his guidance.

     “Hm, you like that? Is my cock stretching your tight little pussy?” Junkyu’s lips misted over yours, grunting as you began to wind your hips needily against his cock, using his shoudlers to steady your balance and fuel your careful bounces. Your body curled into his chest, your breath heavy against his skin, as you grew more evidently desperate. The pleasurable pain of his cock hitting your guts was working up a thicker arousal deep within your core, and suddenly you were riding him faster, allowing him to drive deeper, your chest twisting with a gentle whine.

     “Riding my cock like the dirty slut that you are,” Junkyu grunted, readily tugging his shirt over his head, “you desperate fucking whore.”

And suddenly his strong arms were forcing you to stop, hooking beneath your thighs and hauling you up as he rose to his feet, causing a fragile whimper to leave your lips. Your heart palpitated at the new found power that was filling his gaze, sinful flashes decorating his brown orbs. His cock stilled inside of you, he paced a few steps to slam you hard against the nearest bedroom wall, a shock of pain dancing down your spine. Your arms wrapped magnetically around his neck, and without a moments rest Junkyu drove is hips up into your pussy, immediately setting a vigorous pace that left you unable to make a coherant sound. His cock snapped fast and deep inside of you, reaching between your guts, grazing your G-spot. Your heavy breath buried in his neck, whining against his warm skin as Junkyu’s gritted teeth allowed him to concentrate on keeping the rhythm of his hips pounding into your pussy. With each thrust, he brushed your clit now throbbing between your folds, sending new sensations rushing through your tensed up veins.

     “What’s my name?” Junkyu growled in your twitching ear, “let me hear you say my fucking name.”

His name dripped from your lips like candy, as your nails dug into the back of his neck, and his teeth pricked at the sensitive skin just below your ear. You could feel his cock beginning to twitch against your walls, throbbing harder and harder the faster his hips reduced the space between your bodies. His breath hitched, and he moulded his lips messily against yours, silencing the groans that threatened to escape. His rhythm faltered, momentum failing him as his chest contorted with the prospect of orgasm. Your moans croaked and cried against his mouth, your eyes rolling behind your lids, as he aggressively chased his high. His fingers tightened around your thighs, your body banging against the wall, and his teeth pulled at your tongue, just as he purred a groaned curse. Tensing, he hissed in pleasure, as he came buried deep within your walls. Soon, his hips gradually slowed to deep, steady thrusts, and your head fell against his shoulder, panting, as his cum dripped down the inside of your thighs. For a moment, his lips played breathlessly with your shouder, giving him the time to regain a little more energy, recovering from the intense orgasm. Allowing you back to the floor, Junkyu brushed your hair from your red cheeks, a smirk drawing across his features.

     “I’m not done with you yet, babygirl,” he whispered heavily, snatching up your waist, chuckling as you weakly allowed him to control your limbs like putty, spinning you around and shoving you down first first to the mattress. Your fingers curled into the sheets, as you felt him kneel behind you, the large surface of his palms attaching to your ass. A sharp gasp stammered against the mattress as he landed a hard smack against one cheek, followed by a 2nd, a 3rd, a 4th, a stinging pain engulfing the entire area.

     “Tsk, you’re nothing but a needy little slut, God you just gave into me so easily didn’t you, hm?” a 5th slap shocked your body, and you stifiled a melodic moan, “oh, you like that? You like being punished like the nasty whore you are?”

Junkyu’s deep voice was followed by his hands flipping you carelessly over, meeting your weak eyes with a deep, steady stare. Your hands fluttered down your stomach, pleadingly beginning to touch your sensitive pussy, crying for him. His eyebrow immediately cocked, snatching up your wrists with a low tut and bringing them high above your head.

     “Bad girl,” he sucked in a breath, “who gave you permission to touch yourself? If you’re not careful, I might not let you cum.”

Your back arched, his fingers trailing deep inside your pussy, wrapping his digits in the remainder of his thick cum. Pulling them up your body, he hovered them over your lips, groaning as you obediently curled your tongue hungrily around them, lapping up his cum. As you licked the remainder from his finger tips, your small hand curling into his palm, allowing his digits to slip deeper into your mouth, Junkyu began to pepper open mouthed kisses down your cool stomach, tracing his lips further and further down your body. With his free hand, he caressed your twitching inner thigh, allowing his tongue and teeth to play teasingly with it’s skin, glancing up to greedily watch you suck at his fingers. His mouth was now dangerously approaching your pussy, and your hips shifted slightly, begging for him to please you properly. Your eagerness made him shiver with joy, and he detached his fingers from your mouth, lowering them to spread the folds of your pussy wide. He met your low gaze, smirking as his tongue slowly slipped between your slit, trailing up the wet mess of your pussy to begin pulsating light, irregular shapes over your throbbing clit. Your hands snatching into the bed sheets, you moaned a loud, desperate whine. Fuck it felt too good. All you could think about was him, him and only him. His lips now wrapping around your clit, two digits joining your overwhelming pleasure as they pushed deep inside your pussy, you cried out his name, completely giving in to his flickering tongue. Your pussy fluttered against his lips, hips seizing against his mouth to catch your high that you so crazily craved. Your stomach felt like it was on fire, your thighs clenching, and your chest shot up in a sharp breathed choke. His tongue played mercilessly with your clit, shooting an acute, cutting pleasure up your core. Your hands stumbled to find his hair in your shaking shivers, following the bobs of his head as he began to messily lap at your dripping cunt. You were beginning to shudder with orgasm, as your core snatched up a sudden knot, the orgasm expanding in your stomach getting bigger, bigger, your head getting lighter, lighter. Your sight filled with stars, your lips slightly parted, as your hips suddenly twitched, a warmth beginning to spread through your pussy, reaching your core like a tsunami. Your muscles tensed, contracting abruptly, and your voice caught in your throat, before the product of an intense orgasm rushed out in a loud, breathy moan. You pulled at Junkyu’s hair, his tongue twirling your clit, riding out your high until the pain of overstimulation took over your limbs. Feeling you twitch and shudder beside his head, he gazed up, staring deep into your weak, teary eyes, and his smirk engulfed your clit. You writhed against the mattress, back arching further to control the sensations that were mechanically sending your muscles into overwhelmed mania.

     “J-Junkyu, please, I can’t take anymore,” you whined, breath wheezy.

He held your eyes, pushing further into your cunt, his lips and tongue providing your clit with intense attention. You were already beginning to feel the same crashing of orgasm, your moans turning into “yes, yes, yes, o-oh, Junkyu”, that provided his pride an immense, satisfying ego boost. Once more, knots were building like lego inside your core, hurriedly tensing to meet your orgasm with the same pleasurable friction as before. Soon, your head filled with mist, unable to think straight as you shook with the 2nd stinging orgasm. Fuck. Heat pooled your core, meeting the knots with a powerful contraction, as your muscles snatched up the insane pleasure now sending endorphins rushing through your veins. You mewled in agreement, as the rush of orgasm shot into core, Junkyu’s tongue holding you out to the end of your body shaking high.

As you collapsed against the mattress, Junkyu detached his lips from your stunned clit, rising to brush his hands softly up your chest. He smiled slightly, admiring your frail, fucked out figure lying beneath him, and slowly he pressed a delicate kiss to your feeble lips.

     “You did so well,” he mumbled.

Your limp arms snaked around his neck, as he lowered to keep your body safe with his broad chest. He could feel your wheezy panting against his cheek, and he offered you sweet, reassuring kisses along your shoulder, giving you a few moments to regain yourself. As soon as your breathing began to normalise, he rolled onto his back, tugging you into a loose, intimate embrace. You buried your face in his chest, using his smooth skin to relax you, and your fingers began to trace gentle circles over the muscles of his lower stomach.

     “Did you like it?” Junkyu asked, quietly, playing lightly with your hair.

Glancing up, your small smile between a pair of flushed cheeks glistened in his fond gaze.

     “I liked it a lot,” you giggled, your tired voice making his brow furrow in concern.

     “Was I too rough?” Junkyu murmured, “did I hurt you?”

Pulling your body a little further up, you fluttered a kiss on his cheek, features blissful as you allowed your head to cuddle into his neck.

     “It was perfect.”

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 16: Quench

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

“You know what amazes me,” Scully says as they walk along the waterfront. “That day we first met… I never would have guessed we’d end up like this. More than partners, more than friends.”

“I didn’t expect you to last three months with me,” Mulder admits, hands in his pockets. “Part of me wanted to drive you away, make you request reassignment.”

“And the other part of you?” she prompts, gently taking ahold of his wrist and drawing his hand out. She laces their fingers together, and their entwined hands swing between them as they walk. He likes it.

“I came to admire you,” he admits. “I read your thesis, for starters, but getting to know you personally was a transformative experience. I saw your strength, your dedication to your principles, your loyalty. I came to depend on your perspective; you were always matching me, challenging me.”

“I thought you hated that,” Scully points out.

“I definitely did on occasion,” he agrees. “But I needed it. I still do. I need your rationality and clarity and willingness to listen, even when you disagree with me. Especially when you disagree,” he amends.

“Respecting the journey,” Scully concurs.

“Exactly.” He glances down at her. “What did you think of me when we first met?”

“Hmm… I’d heard a lot about you, so that definitely colored my view in the beginning,” she says. “But walking into the basement office for the first time, I thought… well, for one, you were much more attractive than I was expecting,” she confesses. “I was actually a little awestruck; that is, until you started talking.”

“Why until I started talking?” he asks, voice amused and defensive in equal measure.

“You were really laying it on thick, playing up the ‘Spooky Mulder’ image. It seemed like you’d been alone down there for a little too long,” she says cheekily.

“I’d argue with you, Scully, but I think this time you’re actually right,” he concedes. He stops walking, gives her hand a gentle tug to guide her closer.

“Are you glad they sent me to spy on you?” she asks softly, taking his free hand into her other one.

He nods and leans down, dropping a soft kiss to her lips. “Best thing the Bureau’s ever done for me.”

“We should head back to the car,” Scully says. “My feet are starting to hurt.”

“It’s impressive, the things you manage to do in heels,” Mulder notes.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she says with a sly grin.

“Scully, please, be gentle with me,” he pleads. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hm,” Scully presses her lips together, stifling a smile. “I like when you beg.”

Jesus H Christ.

The drive back to Scully’s apartment is short, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over in front of her building, not ready to say goodnight.

Scully must sense this, because she turns to him with hopeful eyes. “Would you like to come in?” she asks. “I’ll make some tea.”

Mulder bites his lip, considering. “Are you inviting me up for a drink or are you ‘inviting me up for a drink’?” he asks.

She shrugs, smiling. “Only one way to find out,” she replies.

He has to at least walk her to her door, right? It’s the chivalrous thing to do. He might as well stay for tea…

Scully seems far more relaxed than she had at the start of the evening. She undoes the straps of her little heeled sandals and kicks them off by the door, tossing her bag and shawl onto the couch.

“What kind of tea would you like?” Scully asks, going into the kitchen and opening a cupboard.

“Uh... you have any black tea?” Mulder asks, sitting on the couch. He knows he should probably be more specific, but the majority of his tea experiences are iced and made by someone else, and he frankly doesn’t know what to ask for.

“Several, actually,” Scully answers, rearranging cartons in the cupboard. “I’m making an executive decision,” she announces, pulling out a box of Constant Comment. “Missy and I liked this one best.”

He watches her over the back of the couch as she starts the kettle, takes two mugs out of the cupboard, drops a teabag into each one. Her hair is a little mussed, and the hem of her dress is dragging on the floor without the added height of her heels. He decides that seeing her all put together at the beginning of the night is no match for watching her come undone at the end.

If only every night could be like this; them sitting on her squishy striped couch, cups of spicy tea in hand, talking about the profound and the mundane. Maybe, somehow, we can have this, he thinks. Pore over case notes on the sofa, kiss each other goodnight, wake up in each other’s arms.

He decides that Constant Comment is, in fact, a very good tea.

Cup empty, Scully sighs contentedly as she rests her head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” she says. “I wish we hadn’t waited so long to do this.”

“What, sit on your coach and drink tea?”

“Well, yes, but more than that. I meant just being together, without holding things back.”

“Maybe we weren’t ready,” Mulder muses. “We needed to grow into what we wanted and needed from each other. I know it took me a long time to figure it out, and even longer to get the courage to tell you.”

“Well, I suppose not knowing how I felt didn’t help; I was too subtle. I took what I considered a big swing in Florida,” she admits, “And when you didn’t respond I decided to back off.”

“A big swing? What are you talking about?” Mulder asks.

Scully covers her face with her hands. “It’s so embarrassing now,” she groans. “Remember when they tried to send us to that team-building conference? And I came to your room with wine and cheese?”

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Wait, was that a come-on?”

“Yes!” she exclaims. “I came in with this stupid plate of cheese and minibar wine, trying to… to telegraph that I was interested, and you just kept talking about culling techniques all the way out the door.”

“What were you hoping would happen?” Mulder asks.

“I don’t know,” Scully muses. “I was newly cancer-free, and we had just been through that whole ordeal together... I wanted to take a chance and see where it went. Maybe make out a little bit, at least? I’m not sure if... if I would have been ready for more, even if you expressed an interest. But I definitely wanted it.”

“I had no idea,” he says.

They sit silently for a moment.

“I don’t suppose... we should make up for lost time?” he suggests, looking down at her.

She licks her lips, and his eyes follow the movement of her tongue.

She tilts her chin up to him, and he places his hands on either side of her jaw. He leans in, their noses brushing as he tilts his head and presses his mouth to hers. She sighs into the kiss, bringing her hands to his shoulders.

Her lips are so soft and warm, faintly flavored with spices and orange rind from the tea, and he parts his lips reflexively. Hers follow, and the sensation of their mouths slotting together makes his head spin.

Suddenly he feels the slip of her tongue again his bottom lip and he’s in a free fall. They part with a gasp.

“Too much?” Scully asks.

“No, not at all,” Mulder says quickly. “Just surprised me. It was good,��� he assures her.

“Good,” she replies, taking a deep breath. “Sorry… I feel like a clueless teenager,” she says with a huff of a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cared this much. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling out of my depth all of a sudden.”

“I’ve never cared this much for anybody either,” he admits. “But like you said. We’ll go slow.”

She licks her lips. “Okay,” she whispers.

He angles himself towards her, sliding a hand around the back of her neck to draw her closer. “Try again?” he whispers, lips brushing hers.

“Yes,” she breathes.

He’s been holding back from this for years, he realizes; all those times his eyes caught on her lips, watching her mouth shape his name. Occupying his tongue with sunflower seeds to distract himself from what he really wanted. Leaning close, furtively whispering, convincing himself that he really needed to be in her personal space. It was all an elaborate buildup for this moment.

He has a hand in her hair, the other tentatively resting on her waist. Emboldened by her previous eagerness, he opens his mouth, inviting her in with a soft lick. She responds by looping her arms around his neck, one leg hitched across his kneecap as their tongues meet.

They kiss like kites dancing on air, ribbons twisting and tangling in the wind, all silk and cotton and hot breath. He’s not sure if he pulled her onto his lap, or if she slid across his knees of her own volition; but she’s there now, her compact body bundled against his chest. She cards her fingers through his hair, sucking his lower lip, grazing his tongue with her teeth.

Mulder wants this so badly it aches. He might die if they stop, but something below the belt is bound to make itself known, and he needs to regain control before his body gets ahead of his mind.

“Scully,” he pants, pulling back. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and his hunger intensifies. “Scully, if we’re not going to take this further tonight we need to stop now.”

She nods, lips parted as she catches her breath. One strap of her dress has fallen down her shoulder, and he tenderly replaces it with the slip of a finger.

“Don’t touch me like that,” she whispers. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” he confesses. “But… sometimes I want dangerous.”

“So do I,” she says. “But you were right. We should stop.” She slips off of his lap, standing. “It’s getting late,” she say, glancing at the clock. “I have mass in the morning.”

“I hope I gave you a few things to confess,” he says, rising.

“I may add some to the list myself,” she murmurs, and his knees threaten to give way.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he warns her, picking up his jacket and walking to the door. “The more you talk, the harder it is to leave.”

“Then my lips are sealed,” she says. “Goodnight, Mulder.” She opens the door for him, rising onto her tiptoes to receive one more kiss.

It’s brief, but sweet, and Mulder impulsively pulls her into a hug after their lips part. “Goodnight, Scully,” he mumbles into her hair.

He's ascended; gotten high on her lips, floating through the cosmos.

[yoshibb]

Hi! Little something different from usual. I saw the @shepherds-of-haven summer prompt list and I decided to give it a try. Shepherds of Haven is a WIP interactive fiction and it has been such a huge comfort read for me, I highly recommend it! While I'm in love with all the characters, my favorite RO is Chase, so this story is for the prompt sleep with my F!MCAerynXChase. I did my best to keep everything as accurate as possible character and lore wise >.< Thanks for reading! Blinding Light Chase can't sleep. The concept itself isn't disturbing. He's gone plenty a night without a wink of shut-eye. But to not be able to, to have his thoughts jumbled, his leg bouncing, it's unusual. He stretches his fingers in front of him, flexing them soundlessly in the dark like he can find the answer in the lines of his palms.

Something is wrong.

He sits up, not bothering to find a light, his eyes long adjusted to the dark. There are still sounds coming from the Shepherds' Compound, but it's clear that the majority of the occupants have turned in. He doesn't always stay on grounds, but he's been making more exceptions recently for whatever reason.

There's no point in trying to join them in their well deserved rest. He rolls out of bed, slipping into an outfit suitable for traversing the city's rooftops. If his mind refuses to be silent then he might as well occupy it before it decides to turn to more... uncomfortable subjects.

He climbs out onto the rooftop and pauses. An irresistible urge to check on Aeryn tugs at him. For a moment he considers ignoring it. It's late, she needs her rest more than anyone and despite his stealth there is always the small chance he could wake her. But like most forces involving Aeryn, it's less of a tug and more of a compulsion. He spins around, lightly stepping to her bedroom window. He starts to undo the lock but finds it already open. He smiles to himself, forgetting that she'd stopped bothering to latch it after he'd picked it so many times.

She never asks him 'why he never uses the door' like a normal person would or scolds him for invading her privacy outside a brief huff of annoyance. It is strangely difficult to get under her skin, but a challenge he's taken to whole-heartedly.

However, though the space inside is dark, the bed is empty. His heart trembles with an ominous thump. He shakes his head, scolding himself. There are plenty of explanations for this. His eyes drift about the room to take in what's missing. Most notably her sword that usually rests against her nightstand. She normally leaves it close enough to grab in case of danger. The bed is made and her uniform is gone.

He should check the patrol schedule.

What are you doing?

He stutter steps when he reaches the low lights of the hallway. What is he doing? He should be picking the lock on some unsuspecting noble's balcony by now. And yet nothing stopped him from progressing towards the large board downstairs.

The lamps provide just enough light for him to read. Letters which were once incomprehensible now make perfect sense thanks to Aeryn's tutoring. His smile lengthens as her name jumps out at him. He even knows the route she's covering. Not the best part of Haven, but not the worst. He has nothing to worry about.

He blinks and looks down. He plants his hand on his disobedient limb, physically stopping his right leg from bouncing. He studies it like it's a mystical object rather than a part of his body. His eyes slide up to Aeryn's name again, the discontent tug now like a rope around his wrist, dragging him to where she should be.

He was going to do a little sightseeing anyway, what would the harm be in 'bumping' into her?

Soon enough he is outside, climbing the walls and out into the streets of Haven. Darting into the first alley, he bounces off the wall and uses his momentum to reach the ledge, pulling himself up onto the roof without any trouble. The air is cool, comfortably so. The wind barely provides any resistance as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

Normally, he'd take in the sights, watch for a potential target, enjoy the rush of adrenaline. It's the perfect night for a sprint, but his mind is clouded by the hunt. He scans the streets below, empty besides the rare drunkard or overworked laborer.

Until he finally sees her, long golden honey hair that somehow still shimmers under insufficient light. A presence that always seems to blind him the minute she catches his gaze.

His heart beats against its cage, his smile stretching until his cheeks hurt. His sunshine, his Aeryn.

He catches himself, pressing a hand against his mouth as a cold shiver courses through him. No, not his. Free to come and go as she pleased. In and out of his bed, to be with whoever she wanted. Just as he is.

Regaining control of himself he looks down again, studying the sway of her hips and the grace of her walk. It's enough to ignite a flame inside his core that he's eager to chase. A smirk smooths its way across his lips. It would be a matter of convincing her to abandon her post, but she's never turned him down before.

He skips over one more roof and leaps down silently, a building's distance between them. The first time he'd snuck up on her like this, she'd nearly taken his head from his shoulders. He had the reflexes to dodge her if he needed to, but she stopped her stroke before it nicked his throat. She'd sighed and asked him not to do it again. He'd simply smiled and stepped closer to her, promising nothing.

He'd repeated his stunt again with similar results but never in the dead of night. A thrill weaves through him as he approaches her, his tongue dancing out over his lower lip.

And then she turns.

Sharply, west, down a dark alley. The move startles him and unlike his normal marks, he trails her blindly.

An arm shoots out and cuts off his progress, causing him to stumble to a stop. Her other arm grazes against his back, effectively caging him in.

"Chase," Aeryn says in a scolding yet fond manner.

"It appears you've caught me, Captain," he reclines against the brick wall between the barrier of her arms, a lazy smile painting his lips. "So what do you plan to do with me?" Aeryn shakes her head.

"That's it? No tricks? You're just giving up? I don't believe it." Her eyes dance across his form and he's more than happy to allow it.

"I'm finding this position more than agreeable at the moment, but we'll see how things play out, sunshine." He propels himself forward from his lounging position. He pauses, their similar heights allowing him to nearly brush his lips against hers. To her credit she doesn't flinch, keeping her arms fixed on either side of him. He tilts his head in playful innocence. "I can offer a bribe, but I've heard you are an honest sort."

Aeryn hums unable to stop her own smile from echoing his, "I may be open to a different sort of bribe."

He chuckles low in his throat, the flicker of heat growing into a furnace. He nearly closes the distance, but he manages to draw back. He wants to see the thirst in her eyes first. The inescapable longing he's felt all night.

Instead, he's met with her concern. It catches him off guard, and he struggles to keep his nonchalant grin in place. "Aeryn?"

She catches his chin in her fingers and ignites a magelight with her other hand. He swallows tightly as she examines his face like a healer would.

"Your skin is pale," she says.

"Just a trick of the light. Nothing worth worrying yourself over." He gently tries to push her hand away. But she's insistent, thumb tracing his bottom lip, faintly cracked beneath her touch.

"You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?" She chides him. He tries to defend himself, but he's too distracted by the way her fingers glide across his cheek and lightly stroking his eyelashes. His eyelids flutter, and his body shivers under her featherlight caresses. Soft and caring and so completely foreign. He leans into her palm, lowering his guard for just a moment.

And she doesn't waste it.

She leans in and presses a tender kiss to the curve of his jaw. Wrapping her arms around him, she folds their bodies together until the two of them become intimately one. He turns his head into the crook of her neck, deeply inhaling the heady scent of sage. He cards his fingers into her long hair, enjoying the feel of it as it slides through the gaps of his fingers.

And it's enough. He allows himself to sink further until he's drowning in her embrace. Where no one can touch him, nothing can ever hurt him again, as long as she has him. She lays butterfly kisses on his forehead and each of his eyelids before releasing him. He very nearly clings to her but forces himself to let go, knees weak as he falls against the wall. She holds his hand for a moment longer, squeezing it tightly.

"Go to bed, please. For me? I'll be back soon." She promises, her grip slipping from his.

Instead of letting him disagree, she kisses him softly good night, her lips offering no more than a caress. He stands frozen for a moment, watching her disappear around the corner. As if leaving is so simple.

Confusion muddles his mind as he slides down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. He stares at his hand, still tingling from her touch. Her scent still lingering on his clothes.  

He starts to get up, ready to continue on with his plans for the night only for his limbs to betray him. He stumbles against the tidal wave of exhaustion. It suddenly feels as if he could sleep for days. He searches for the cure for his insomnia and finds her further down the road. His heart soars to life again. And then a deep fear creeps up his spine.

What's come over me?

[agerefandom]

The Doctor’s Office

Fandom: Twilight

Characters: cg!Carlisle Cullen, regressor!reader (gender-neutral), brief appearances of OCs

Words: 3,600

Summary: You’ve always had trouble with doctor appointments. The stress proves to be too much, and you regress at the doctor’s office. Luckily, Dr. Cullen seems to be sympathetic and caring.

Warnings: Lots of medical anxiety and imagery, needles/shots, anxiety regression, unplanned public regression, panic attacks.

You’ve never liked going to the doctor. The medical smell of the office, the paper on the weird squishy bench, the impersonal poking and prodding of the annual check-up. When you were a child, you would cry all the way there.

Now you’re an adult, and you have to drive yourself. Your hands are tense on the wheel and you can feel the anxiety pounding at your ribs. You wish you’d outgrown your fear of doctor’s appointments, but there are still some things that get the panicked toddler in your head screaming.

You take one hand off the steering wheel, reaching blindly towards the passenger seat while keeping your eyes on the road ahead. The rough texture of your backpack meets your fingers, and you relax. You’ve brought a little comfort bag: your favourite stuffie, a snack for afterwards, and your headphones in the front pocket. You have music, you have a fidget toy in your pocket, and you are going to survive this.

You pull into the little parking lot, feeling very brave. This is Forks, and the doctor’s office is small like everything else. It’s your first time here, which doesn’t help your nerves: you’re new in town, and while you could drive to Seattle and go to one of the larger offices, the longer drive would just make it easier for you to chicken out on the way.

Your coworkers had recommended Dr. Cullen, and you’d taken their advice. It took a little longer to get an appointment because Dr. Cullen works three days a week in Seattle, but you were happy for the appointment to be as far away as possible.

Unfortunately, the future always became the present, and now you’re just sitting in the car and delaying the inevitable.

With a sigh, you grab your comfort bag and make for the front door. The smell hits you as soon as you get inside: clean and sharp with disinfectant.

You clutch the straps of your backpack and approach the front desk, trying for a smile when the secretary looks up. She’s a kind looking woman who matches the voice you’d heard on the phone. Looks like she probably has photos of her kids in her wallet. “Hello dear, do you have an appointment?”

“I do. With Dr. Cullen, at 2 o’clock?” You give your name and health card when required, receiving a stack of paperwork in return. 

The woman gives you a pen and a smile, then gestures to the empty sitting area. “Go take a seat, fill out your forms, and I’ll let Carlisle know you’ve arrived.” She bustles off down the hall, leaving you in a silent room.

You immediately put on your headphones, blocking out the quiet with your favourite playlist to calm down. There are clipboards on the tables, and you snag one to fill out the paperwork. Most of this is familiar by now, but there are plenty of account numbers you have to look up on your phone. Eventually, the stack is finished, and you glance up to see the secretary returned while you were busy with papers and music. She’s tapping away at the computer, and you approach her timidly with your paperwork.

She jumps a little when she sees you standing in front of her, but quickly smiles and accepts the stack of paperwork. “Thank you very much!” She points at the hallway to her right. “You can go on to the room at the end of the hall, with the door open. Carlisle will be with you in just a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” You collect your bag from the seating area, half-tempted to hug it to your chest and get some comfort from the stuffie hidden inside, but instead you swing it onto your back and trudge down the hallway, one hand finding the fidget cube in your pocket and playing with the switches to distract you from your rising anxiety.

The room is empty: you put your bag carefully on the ground and hop up onto the examination table. The crinkle of the wax paper fills you with dread: you bring the cube out of your pocket and keep yourself busy with it, turning it over and over in your hands.

The silence stretches, but you don’t want to put your headphones on and miss the doctor coming in. The clicking of the buttons on your fidget cube are too loud in the room. Every time you shift, the paper crinkles underneath you. You try not to look at the diagrams on the wall, the medical instruments and cotton balls beside the computer on the desk.

“Ah, my two o’clock!” an unfamiliar voice says from the door. You glance up, startled by the lack of footsteps to announce the new person.

The person standing in the doorway is presumably Dr. Cullen, and you understand why your coworkers had been giggling about him now. The man looks like a fashion model, not a doctor for a little town like Forks. He smiles, and it’s like you can hear the little ‘ding’ sound effect as his teeth shine at you.

“That’s me,” you manage.

He retrieves a clipboard from under his arm and reads out your name, glancing up to check that it’s correct. You nod, and he walks forward to offer his hand.

“Dr. Carlisle Cullen,” he says. His handshake is perfect, cool and firm around your hand, which you’re suddenly aware is a little bit sweaty. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You too.” He’s even more striking up close, you can’t even pick the features that stand out because they’re all perfect. His eyes are a hypnotizing colour, almost golden. You avert your gaze, self-conscious in the presence of his perfectly pressed white coat and flawless hair.

“So, I see you haven’t had a general check-up in a few years,” Doctor Cullen says, finally retreating and flipping a page over on his clipboard. You immediately clasp your hands on your lap, resisting the urge to kick your legs back and forth. “New to Forks?”

“Yes, just moved.” You scored a nice apartment: living prices are good out here, with the significant commute to most cities. You have a few more boxes to unpack, but you’re not fussed about finishing. “It’s a nice town.”

“One of my favourite places I’ve lived.” Dr. Cullen sounds genuinely fond of the town, not just making small-talk as he boots up the computer and puts your file on the desk. “Have you been to the diner on Maple Street yet?”

“I haven’t.” You don’t like going out alone, and you haven’t really made any friends yet. There are a few coworkers that you want to talk to more, but you’re not at the level where you can ask them out for coffee yet. “It’s good?”

“The best,” Dr. Cullen assures you.

“Have you… lived many places?” You watch his fingers move across the keyboard, somehow entranced. Even his nails are perfect, each one buffed to a shine. He must get manicures.

“I’m a big fan of travel,” the doctor admits. “I’ve visited almost every country in the world.”

“Wow.” Doctors make a lot of money, you remember. No way someone could travel that much without being rich. He doesn’t look that old, either, maybe thirty? Young for a doctor, anyways. “And Forks is your favourite? Really?” It’s a nice town, with the forests stretching around it, but it’s not exactly the height of culture.

“I was fond of Italy.” Dr. Cullen seems to have contented himself with the computer, and turns back to you. “St. Petersburg is lovely as well, but Forks feels like home to me.” He takes a pair of gloves from the box on the desk, and you watch him slip them on. You’d been busy with the conversation, enough that you’d almost forgotten that you were here for a check-up, but the sight of those latex gloves reminds you.

The small talk falls away, and Dr. Cullen asks you all the usual questions: any problems, how are you feeling, are you taking any medication. You answer them carefully, and he nods and takes the occasional note. When you mention trouble sleeping, he asks if that’s something you want to look into. You shake your head: it’s probably linked to your anxiety, and it’s never bad enough to affect you in the long-term. He doesn’t ask, just accepts the head shake and moves on smoothly.

The physical exam is as nerve-wracking as ever, gloved fingers pressing on your shoulder, keeping you still as he listens to your heart, to your breathing. He must be able to hear your heart racing with anxiety, but he doesn’t comment, moving through the procedures with professional swiftness.

“All seems well,” he declares at last. “You are behind on your vaccinations, however. I’d recommend a flu shot and the updated HBV vaccine, at least. There are a few more that can wait for next year, but flu season in Forks usually takes out the whole town.”

“Uh…” Oh, please no. Shots are not something you’re good at. “Okay, yeah.”

“They’re both covered by your current insurance,” Dr. Cullen adds, clearly sensing your apprehension.

“Cool.” You manage to nod, a jerky movement. “Sorry. I’m just bad at shots.”

“No worries.” Dr. Cullen smiles, and you find yourself feeling oddly reassured by the sincerity of his response. “I promise they’ll be quick. Count to ten, and they’ll both be done.”

“Promise?”

It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the nervous question of a child who has been lied to too many times.

“Pinky promise,” Carlisle assures you without batting an eye. “Just give me a moment to get ready.” He steps to the desk and starts moving things around. You look away, not wanting to see the needles as he prepares them.

“So, where did you move from?” the doctor asks conversationally. You answer automatically, your mind still running to catch up with the idea that you’re going to willingly get a flu shot. You’ve never gotten one before, why did you let him talk you into this? 

He asks about your move to Forks, and you tell him that it was fine. You tell him about the hiking trails that wind through the forest just behind your apartment building, and he asks how often you go walking.

Soon enough, the two of you are chatting about your favourite parks in the US, and it almost takes you by surprise when he rolls a table over to you. There’s a tray on it, with two needles that you quickly look away from.

It’s too late, though, you’ve already seen them. You don’t want to think about it. You almost wish your parents still came to your doctor’s appointments, at least you would have a hand to hold.

“Deep breaths,” Carlisle tells you, his voice soothing. “Remember, just count to ten and they’ll both be done.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes, and try to ignore the wet cotton-ball rubbing against your arm. “One… two…” The sharp sting makes you draw in your breath sharply, the fingers of your free arm clutching at the lip of the table you’re sitting on. “Three. Four. Five…” Pain again, this time drawing tears to your eyes. “Six… seven…”

“All done.” There’s light pressure on your shoulder, careful wiping. “Only seven seconds, there we are.” You open your eyes and see Carlisle pressing a cotton ball to your shoulder, his expression calm and focused. “No more pain,” he assures you.

But the tears are spilling down your cheeks, and the toddler inside your chest is furious that you allowed that to happen, and you can’t stand up to that anger. You need your stuffies. You need to be home with a blanket. You need a snack and a good cry and a bottle of warm milk.

“M’sorry,” you manage. He’ll notice the tears at some point. “M’bad at pain. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.” Carlisle lifts the cotton ball from your arm, and you can see the blood soaked into it. You hear yourself give an involuntary squeak, shutting your eyes again. “You’re alright,” Carlisle soothes. “I’ll get you a band-aid and something to drink.”

“Okay.” You sniffle and wipe the tears from your face, wincing at the ache in your left arm. “Sorry.”

“All fine. More common than you’d expect. Do you want a boring band-aid or a Disney princess? I’m afraid we’re all out of Spider-Man.”

You giggle a little at the question: it’s a silly thing to ask an adult. “Princess,” you say. Why not.

“There we are.” You feel his gloves on your arm again, applying the bandage with gentle professionalism. “All covered up.”

“T’nk you,” you say, and resist the urge to put your thumb in your mouth. Can’t do that at a doctor’s office. Too many germs.

“My penance for causing you pain,” says Carlisle in a very serious voice, which makes you laugh again. You didn’t know this doctor was so funny. “Now, would you like apple juice or orange juice?”

“A’ple!” You’d prefer a bottle of milk, but a sippy cup of juice is good too. You rub your eyes free of tears and open them again, just in time to see Carlisle stepping back in from the hallway carrying a box of juice. Did he go and get it in the second you were rubbing your eyes?

You blink away the mystery and make grabby hands at the juicebox, remembering a second too late that he’s your doctor and not your caregiver, and you can’t just make grabby hands at the things you want.

“Sorry!” You drop your hands to your sides, a wave of embarrassment pushing back your regression for a moment. You’re too tired to be fully an adult, the pain keeping you uncomfortably between two headspaces for a moment. “Sorry.”

“Still no need to be sorry. Hydration is important.” Carlisle puts the straw in for you and passes you the juice-box, which you sip eagerly. The sweet juice makes your head feel less stuffy from crying, and it helps with the pain too. Obviously, this is magic doctor juice. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shake your head, but your eyes fall on your backpack across the room. It would be so nice to hug your stuffie right now. It would be soft and big in your arms and you would feel so comfy, even if you’re still sitting on the horrible crinkly paper.

“Do you want something from your backpack?” Carlisle asks, following your eyes. “I can bring it to you.”

You hesitate. Some of your online friends said they brought stuffies to their doctor appointments. Would it be weird? Would he refuse to see you again? He’s so nice and he got you juice and you don’t want him to be mean to you.

You’re so busy worrying that you don’t notice that you’ve already raised a hand towards the backpack until Carlisle is obligingly putting it beside you. By then, the decision is already reached: you pull out your stuffie and cradle it in your arms, hiding your face in the fuzz.

“What a wonderful idea,” Carlisle’s voice comes from above you, still all kind and soothing. “Bringing a companion to the doctor’s office to tell you how brave you’ve been.”

“Mm-hmm.” Now that your friend is in your arms, you worry so much less. And Carlisle is still being nice, so it must not bother him.

“Alright.” Carlisle’s voice sounds serious: you glance up to see him standing in front of you, one hand outstretched. He’s not wearing gloves anymore.

You hesitantly put your hand in his, expecting him to pull you to your feet and maybe even usher you out the door, but instead he just holds your hand gently, leaning down to be at eye-level with you. “I have another appointment in five minutes, but I don’t want you driving right now. Doctor’s orders,” he adds with a smile. “You stay in here for as long as you need, and I’ll check in after my next appointment. You can go onto the big chair, if you like, but don’t touch anything on the desk or the walls.” You nod mutely. He’s leaving you here alone?

Although, you suppose you’re not here alone now that your stuffie is here.

“If you feel good enough to leave before I get back, that’s okay, but make sure to tell Steph at the front desk on your way out so I don’t worry. Otherwise, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Okay, Doctor,” you mumble into your stuffie.

“Call me Carlisle,” he smiles, and he looks back at you twice as he leaves the room.

Alone in the office, you shift uncomfortably, some of your anxiety coming back. But he said that you could go in the big rolling chair, so you skip off the doctor’s table and into the office chair in front of the computer. It’s huge and squishy and it rolls a bit when you sit down.

That’s where you stay, rolling yourself around and chatting to your stuffie, eventually pulling out your phone to play some music with your headphones. You know that you have to go sometime, but every time you think about going outside, you feel yourself start to panic. You’ll be seen! You’ll have to pretend to be big! You can’t do that. So you spin in the chair and hum along to favourite songs, and eventually inspect your arm to see what band-aid Carlisle gave you. It’s Princess Jasmine, which makes you happy.

All too soon, there’s a knock on the door, and Carlisle steps back in.

“Hello,” he greets you warmly.

“Hi.” His presence jolts you out of your regression, and the panic rises fast. You just regressed in a public space, and no matter how nice this doctor was about it, you were definitely acting weird. He forbade you from driving, for god’s sake. He probably thought you were high or something, maybe he even called the police…

“Oh, deep breaths. It’s alright.” Carlisle takes two steps forward and drops to his knees in front of your chair. The gesture catches you off-guard, almost startling you out of your gathering panic attack. “No one is angry. You aren’t in trouble.”

“Promise?” you manage, an echo of your earlier plea.

“Pinky promise.” This time, Carlisle holds up one hand, his pinky extended. You hook your finger into his, and he squeezes gently. “There we go.”

“I’m so sorry.” The panic and regression have both receded, leaving you exhausted and slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t expect that to happen. I get anxious at medical appointments, but that was worse than usual.”

“You’re in a new town, and I imagine you’re still exhausted from moving. It was very brave of you to come,” Carlisle tells you, and you can’t detect an ounce of sarcasm or judgement in his voice. “And you’re always welcome to bring a friend.” He hovers a hand over the stuffed animal beside you, just shy of touching it. You tug it a little closer, defensive, and he obediently withdraws.

“Thank you.” You want to hide your face in the stuffie again, but you’re not regressed anymore, and you do need to get home. If only to climb into bed and try to forget any of this happened. “I should, um.”

“Of course, I imagine you have things to do.” Carlisle gets to his feet, dusts off his knees where he had been kneeling on the floor. “I am truly sorry this appointment was so hard on you, but I’m happy that you came.”

You don’t have a response to that, so you focus on repacking your bag and swinging it over the shoulder that isn’t aching. Just as you’re turning for the door, Carlisle speaks again.

“I have five adopted children.” You stop and look over your shoulder at him, confused by the statement. “Most of them come from traumatic backgrounds,” Carlisle adds, resting his hand on the back of the chair you just vacated. “Age regression isn’t unfamiliar to me, as a response to emotional distress or physical pain. Many people experience it.” Oh god, he knows. You can feel your ears heating up from embarrassment. “It’s also an experience that can make people feel isolated, or ashamed. If you wanted to meet one of my daughters, I’ve found community can be beneficial. Of course, I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I thought it could be a positive experience. For both of you.”

He’s a good doctor and a good dad? That’s too much for one person, surely.

“I’ll. Um. I’ll think about it,” you manage. Carlisle smiles and nods, looking satisfied with that answer.

“Drive safe,” he tells you. “And put some ice on your arm tomorrow if it bothers you.”

“Thanks.” And you flee the building, barely managing a friendly nod to the secretary as you push the door open and emerge into the cloudy day. If there’s one thing Forks isn’t known for, it’s the good weather.

You dump your backpack into the passenger seat and take a second to just breathe. Okay. That was a lot. You really do feel like hiding in your room for the next century, but… Carlisle was really nice about it all. And apparently, he’s a caregiver to a regressor in his house? Or even more than one? You’ve never met a regressor in person before, despite being relatively active in the online community. It could be… interesting?

You drive back to your apartment, your eyes on the road and your mind on the offer that Carlisle made.

[farfromharry]

The one with the party | Peter’s girl

Summary: The night of Liz Allan’s infamous house party in the suburbs

Word count - 2564

Warnings - language, slight underage drinking i guess?

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

The day of Liz’s party rolled around all too quickly. Mj felt as though she needed more time to prepare, she wanted to try and look cute for Peter, ignoring your reassurances that she always looked cute. Peter wanted to desperately impress Liz, and if he was going to have to pull the Spiderman card then, so what?

Ned was ready, he’d always heard about how cool Liz’s parties were but had never been invited, him and Peter being deemed nerds that obviously no one wanted to attend their house parties. You weren’t sure how you were doing. Part of you was excited to go and spend the night having fun with your friends, all dressed up and looking cute. But the other side of you felt nervous, nervous to see Peter in such a casual setting that you hadn’t seen him in before.

Of course you’d had your group study sessions, but then the main focus was science and now, the main focus was having fun.

Things for Peter and Ned felt a lot more rushed, and that freaked Peter out a considerable amount.

As disappointing as it was, the two had never actually been to a high school party, they’d only heard about them in the halls at school, or in classes where people were meant to be working. Peter and Ned had always been seen as the nerds of Midtown, so they didn’t really get invited to anything.

You had spent the last hour on the phone listening to Mj complain about how she would have to see Peter drooling over Liz the entire time, and Liz probably gushing over Peter for introducing her to Spiderman.

“Mj I just- can’t you forget about him, just for tonight?” you begged. You wanted to spend just one night where your head wasn’t filled with thoughts of Peter Parker, and if that’s all your best friend was talking about, that’s all you were guaranteed to think about.

Mj let out a groan of frustration, flopping down on her bed with her phone still pressed to her ear.

“That’s the thing,” she whined. You could practically hear the frustration in her voice now.

“I-I can’t, he’s always on my mind and I-“ you heard her take a deep breath, letting out a sad sigh. “I’m always thinking about him.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to intentionally say it. Hell at first you hadn’t even realised you’d said something, at least not until Mj spoke up with some questions.

“Y/N, what did you just say?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard you right, but she also thought that you didn’t mean to say that out loud, and that was confirmed by the quiet gasp she heard from your end of the phone.

You laughed nervously, trying to cover up your mistake. “N-Nothing, what do you mean?”

The girl on the other end of the phone let out an excited squeal, one that almost deafened you it was so loud.

“Y/N, do you have a crush?” she asked. Your heart was racing and you were sure that if she could see you right now she’d be able to see just how flustered you are. You hadn’t actually admitted it to anyone, and you weren’t about to start now either.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” you teased. Even if you weren’t going to explicitly come out and say out, you presumed she took your nerves as a yes, and she wouldn’t let it go until she found out who it was. But for the sake of your friendship, you weren’t going to reveal that information anytime soon. “Anyway,” you muttered, trying to quickly change the topic so you wouldn’t further embarrass yourself.

“You aren’t getting away from this that easily, miss.”

“What time should I pick you up?” you asked, avoiding her question. Mj let out a little laugh, rolling her eyes at your childish behaviour. She threw out a time and you were quick to agree, telling her you should go so you could get ready, even if part of it was so she couldn’t interrogate you any longer.

“Love you, bye,” you rambled, quickly ending the phone call before she got another word out. You took a deep breath, letting out a groan as your head lolled back against your chair.

You decided to distract yourself by getting ready, pulling out all the stops. Mj may not know who you were trying to impress, but you certainly did, and you wanted to feel amazing.

You took a long shower, letting the hot water calm you of any nerves you had about going tonight, washing them down the drains with any other negative thoughts.

After your shower you tried to pick out some clothes, a task which should not have been so difficult. You ended up getting stumped between two options, of which you sent both to Mj.

do we go 1 or 2?

definitely 2, you’d look hot as hell ;)

You replied with a quick thank you along with a blushing emoji, slipping on the pretty dress she’d picked out. As you looked it over in the mirror you were quite happy with her pick, deciding that she definitely had good taste, well when it came to outfits that weren’t hers.

Makeup didn’t go as smooth as you planned, not when you had your best friend texting you every five minutes asking you how to do a specific part of a makeup routine. You liked that she was trying but you still couldn’t help but laugh at how utterly clueless she was.

You eventually finished, deciding you were happy and now bubbling with excitement as you searched your room for the keys to your car.

You took a few deep breaths and flattened out your dress before you finally left the house. As soon as you were in your car you were sending Mj a text to tell her you were on your way and your night of fun was finally going to begin.

»»——⍟——««

“Are you ready to party?” she cheered, startling you in your seat for a second. You rolled your eyes before you let out a quiet giggle, nodding your head enthusiastically to match her energy.

She thankfully didn’t bring up the whole ‘crush’ situation from on the phone, clearly noting how stubborn you’d been about it earlier, and there was nothing Mj hated more than trying to get information out of you when you were feeling stubborn. So for now, she’d just have to accept your secret crush and leave herself pretty much dying to know.

The ride there was filled with a happy energy you hadn’t seen from your best friend in a while. You didn’t know where it came from but it made you warm inside to see.

She was straight to the drinks in the red solo cups as soon as you stepped inside the crowded house, barely even giving Liz a greeting before she was gone, leaving an Mj shaped puff of smoke in her absence.

“Sorry about her, she’s just excited to be here.” Liz told you it wasn’t a problem, inviting you inside so you could go and find the runaway brunette.

“What was that?” you scolded, bringing up where you’d specifically told her to at least pretend to be nice to the party’s host. She shrugged her shoulders, putting up an innocent façade that you could easily see through.

Mj took her opportunity to escape the conversation when she noticed your two other friends standing awkwardly in the corner.

She pointed them out to you, the two of you laughing at the uncomfortable body language they portrayed.

“Hey losers,” she called, catching Ned and Peter’s attention. You hit her arm lightly, quietly telling her to be nice to the two, oh so clearly out of place in a party scene, boys. You flashed them both your signature kind smile, your eyes lingering on Peter as he studied the room extra nervously, like more nervous than normal.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked. Ned nodded rapidly, elbowing Peter in the ribs rather harshly when he rudely didn’t respond. The boy in question winced, his hand coming up to soothe the spot Ned had hit him while they had a silent conversation with their eyes.

Peter eventually flashed you a tight lipped smile, his hand still clutching his aching ribs. “Great party, yeah.”

You mentally noted that he’d dressed up, and he looked good. Not that he didn’t look good normally, but you could see the effort he’d put in tonight, even if you could still see a slither of a cute science pun shirt underneath his flannel.

“Some people are playing truth or dare, me and Y/N are gonna go play,” she explained. “Do either of you want to join?”

You’d think someone was out to get the brunette with the way Peter’s head was whipping in all directions, your heart sank when you realised he was probably searching for Liz, sending Mj a secret look.

“I-I can’t, we’re actually meeting someone here soon.” You and Mj had the exact same reaction, nodding at the two boys who were acting very suspicious, and it wasn't just their normal, painfully awkward selves.

“Spiderman, right?” Mj asked, watching as almost all colour drained from Peter’s face, leaving him a ghostly pale.

“Uh, y-yeah, he said he’d come,” he muttered, fiddling with the hem of his flannel shirt. You watched the way Peter tried to convince an unimpressed Mj that nothing suspicious was happening. Even though the girl still didn’t believe him by the time she was dragging you away from the conversation.

“Bye guys,” you whispered, sending them both a polite wave.

Once Peter was sure you were both out of earshot, he turned to Ned in a panic.

“Do you think they know, Mj seemed like she knew-“ he rambled, having to be cut off by his best friend before he got too ahead of himself.

“No one knows, calm down, I doubt Mj would figure it out,” Ned reassured, patting his friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” he mumbled, nodding his head. Peter took another look around and spotted Liz heading straight towards them, his eyes widening. She flashed the two males a sweet smile, one that would’ve had Peter’s knees buckling if it wasn’t for the super strength.

“H-Hi Liz.” His face was decorated with a dopey smile, one that you could find cute if Liz wasn’t already feeling bad for inviting him just for Spidey.

“Hey Peter, Ned,” she greeted. “Is um, is he coming?”

Peter visually deflated, his smile dropping as the corners of his lips curled down into a rather pitiful looking frown. He nervously pulled his phone out of his back pocket, motioning to it with a subtle head now.

“Yeah, I’ll just um, check in,” he murmured. Liz nodded, sending him a small sympathetic smile as she walked away. Ned turned to his best friend with another pity smile, one that made Peter outwardly groan.

“That was sad, right, it wasn’t just me?”

“Yeah, it was pretty sad.”

Peter ran over the whole scenario in his mind again, the words ‘Liz only invited you for Spiderman’ practically screaming at him. He shouldn’t even be here right now, and he wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Ned spilling his secret to impress Liz on his behalf.

“I should go change, cover for me?” he asked. Ned nodded, the two doing their handshake before Peter snuck out of the house.

Since the spider bite, roofs had become one of his favourite places, and with the amount of times he’d been on them without a mask covering his face, he was surprised he hadn’t gotten caught.

Peter spent the next ten or so minutes trying to psych himself up to head back inside. The boy was stuck trying different lines and different accents, practicing all the different ways he could do this, but they all sounded dumb and he was getting annoyed.

Peter jolted at the sudden deafening roar from the mysterious blast behind him, his head whipping around to stare in shock at the strange blue cloud rising up from the ground a few miles away. His heart began racing and he was torn.

Be made a fool of by not having Spiderman show up to the party, or let those weapons dealers get away again.

Meanwhile you were trying to pry a tipsy Mj off of your side. “I’ll be right back,” she groaned, trying to keep you down on the floor next to her with her death grip on your arm, drunk Mj was a nightmare.

“I’m getting a drink M, i’ll come straight back.”

She stubbornly let go of you, her pouty face following you as you left the room with an amused giggle.

The drinks were all the way in the kitchen, and it was pretty sparse in there by now, most people were either in the backyard or doing, you don’t even wanna know what, in the many guest rooms in Liz’s huge house.

You took a moment to take in the relatively quiet atmosphere, leaning against the windows of the kitchen to look out over the part of the city that was visible.

It always looked beautiful all lit up at night, no matter what kind of area you were looking from.

What you didn’t expect to see however, was a red and blue suited hero sitting on a rooftop across from the house.

Your heartbeat quickened, glancing around to see if anyone was there, which thankfully they weren’t. When you’d heard Peter telling Liz about Spiderman in gym class, you didn’t expect him to be telling the truth. Partly because it was Peter, and partly because he’d never mentioned anything to you or Mj, which was kind of annoying.

When you looked closer you noticed a brown, fluffy head of hair. He wasn’t wearing his mask. He was close enough that if you were to squint you could just make out his features and- it was Peter.

Your eyebrows furrowed, staring through the glass like a maniac as you tried to tell if your mind was just playing tricks on you, but no, that was definitely one hundred percent Peter Benjamin Parker.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your palms growing sweaty when you noticed his head turning in your direction. You didn’t know whether to stay still or run away so he didn’t see you, but your feet had apparently made up your mind when you stayed rooted to the spot.

Peter didn’t expect to meet your wide eyes through the window of Liz’s kitchen either, but honestly he probably should’ve hidden himself better. Here he was on an open rooftop in his suit, without his mask covering his face, showing his identity to anyone that noticed.

He didn’t have time to try and signal for you not to freak out before you were already running away, out of his sight. His heart pounded against his chest so hard he could hear it in his ears. He was torn, on the one hand he needed to check out what that blast was down the street, but on the other, you could be telling everyone who Spiderman was right now.

Peter was fucked.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby

[beewolfwrites]

An Iron Box - The Black Envelope

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @hiqhkey @serenzippity

Finally got an update for you all! It only took about a week :’) Hopefully this wasn’t too boring a chapter, but there’s Kuina content, so does that make up for it? 

I will also update the master post too, I promise!

Here’s the AO3 Link. 

Thanks for reading <3

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

The black envelope was nothing more than a pointless ritual created by Hatter to fuel his paranoia. But it was almost incredible seeing how many of the executives and militants still obeyed it. Niragi had suggested opening it right then and there, only Aguni refused and decided to leave it until the next day - an unusual choice for someone who should’ve been desperate to become number-one as quickly as possible. 

Perhaps there was more between him and Hatter than he let on. 

I’d invited the others to join me in my room to go over the plan, and as expected, Kuina was the first to arrive. From the moment she closed the door behind her and jumped onto my bed, it became apparent she still hadn’t let go of our conversation this morning. 

‘You,’ she said pointedly. ‘Did you really think I’d have nothing to say about what you told me earlier?’ 

I sank into a chair by the window. ‘What I told you isn’t any of your business.’ 

‘Uh-uh. That’s bull and you know it. She’s our friend…well, she’s my friend, god only knows what she is to you. If you’re going to hurt her it’s absolutely my business.’ 

Hurt her? That simply wasn’t possible. If anything, nothing would ever change beyond what it is now, and the one who gets hurt wouldn’t be her. The thought made me smile. 

‘I have no intention of it.’ 

Kuina drummed her fingers on her knee. ‘Why do I not believe you?’

‘I don’t care about romance,’ I replied. ‘And what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.’

At this, Kuina’s fingers stilled. ‘You mean, you’re not going to tell her?’ 

‘Of course not.’ 

‘You can’t do that, Chishiya,’ she said. ‘You just can’t.’ 

‘And why not?’

She slapped her hand on the bed. ‘Because that is hurting her.’ 

That’s ridiculous. Telling her would only push her further away. 

Before I could respond, the door cracked open. We had a guest. Arisu shyly stepped inside, Usagi and (name) shuffling in behind him. 

‘Just in time.’ I gestured towards the chairs and the couch. Arisu and Usagi took two of the chairs, while (name) seated herself on the end of couch closest to my seat. ‘Kuina, make sure the door’s shut properly.�� 

‘It’s shut.’  

Her voice was clipped, and the way she was pouting was simply childish. She could try and make a point all she wanted. What I had confessed to her would stay a secret, whether she liked it or not. I reached into the drawer of a side-table and pulled out the walkie talkies I had collected weeks ago. 

‘I’m sure you’ve already guessed this, but Hatter didn’t come back from his last game.’ The statement was meant for Kuina, Usagi and (name), as Arisu had already witnessed the body, however nobody seemed shocked by the news. ‘The militants are saying that he was shot in his game, but his body was actually discovered floating in the river by one of the supply runners.’ 

‘Wait,’ Usagi cut in. ‘How do you know about his body?’ 

I could’ve done without her skepticism, but she was the key to Arisu’s cooperation. ‘The supply runner told An in secret after our meeting, and I just happened to be nearby. Either way, Hatter was ambushed and shot, and Aguni is now the Beach’s new leader.’ 

The room fell silent, until Arisu whispered, ‘It’s just like you predicted.’ He ran his fingers along his mouth, rocking gently in his seat. ‘This plan of yours, you’re thinking of doing it tonight, right?’ 

‘Tomorrow,’ I corrected him. 

I passed the walkie talkies around one by one, savouring the warm brush of skin as I placed (name’s) in her palm. I could tell from the way she leaned in that she was struggling to keep up with the conversation, and though it was her own fault for not trying hard enough to study Japanese, I still found myself slowing down while talking. 

‘The playing cards,’ I explained, ‘they’re kept in a safe hidden somewhere in the royal suite. Nobody knows the passcode except the current number-one. But because there’s always chance that the number-one could die in a game, the code is also kept in a black envelope. The black envelope is only opened when there’s a new number-one.’ 

Even if we used Arisu to find the location of the safe, we wouldn’t know whether the code was correct or not until the moment itself. I had a few theories about what the code was, but it all depended on Aguni’s reaction during the ceremony. 

‘There’ll be a meeting tomorrow,’ I clarified, ‘and Aguni will open it in front of all the executives.’ 

‘It’s only read by the number-one, right?’ (name) asked.

‘That’s right. But as for the safe itself, Arisu will be the one to infiltrate the royal suite.’ 

Arisu sat forward, resting an elbow on his knees. ‘What about the passcode?’ 

Seeing how invested he was, I smiled. ‘I already have an idea about that. I’ll tell you when you’re in front of the safe.’ 

‘You really are cautious.’ His face twisted into a knowing grin - a little ironic, considering the circumstances. ‘Got it!’ 

And now for the others.

I glanced between the three of them, only (name) flinched and immediately lowered her head like an embarrassed teenager. The movement caught me by surprise, however I paid it no mind. 

‘You three will be on the lookout.’ 

Usagi rolled the walkie talkie in her palm and hissed, ‘It’s too dangerous. If we’re found out, we’ll be killed.’ 

I would’ve said something more, but there was no need. Arisu, the ever-loyal puppy, jumped straight in to defend the plan he knew almost nothing about. 

‘It’s fine Usagi,’ he said, echoing the same words I’d spoken during our rooftop conversation. ‘With Hatter dead, there’s no unity at the Beach. This is the only way.’ 

You only believe that because I told you it was the only way. You really are this gullible. 

Knowing I had Arisu convinced was enough for me. Usagi would never be completely swayed, but that’s just who she was. She was far too loyal to Arisu to abandon him and the plan now. And besides, the militants would deal with her later. 

I broke down everyone’s positions; me watching over the executives during Aguni’s speech, Arisu waiting at the end of the hall before heading inside the royal suite, Usagi standing guard outside, and the other two outside the elevator to the top floor. 

It was straightforward enough, and if any of them were suspicious they didn’t show it. At this point, everyone was so desperate to abandon the Beach, they would try anything. Arisu and Usagi eventually left, whispering between themselves. 

I waited for the Kuina and (name) to join them, except neither made a move. Kuina was combing through her braids and messing up my bed without a care in the world. The latter looked even more nervous than before, as though she had a question she was too embarrassed to ask. Some of the details had likely gotten lost in translation, and part of me enjoyed being able to control how much she understood. Another part hated how reliant she was. 

‘Why don’t I go in the royal suite instead?’ 

A cold tension washed over me, as if the empty void I was so familiar with had suddenly dropped open. That wasn’t what I had expected at all. Kuina’s hand slipped out of her braids, her mouth parting. 

‘No,’ I said firmly. 

‘How come?’ She shifted forward in protest, ‘I want to help.’ 

‘If you want to help, you’ll keep out of the way while Arisu finds the safe.’ 

‘Chishiya.’ Kuina’s stern look reminded me of our earlier exchange. Her language skills may have been less practised than mine, but she was vaguely following along, at least enough to criticise me. 

‘But what if I go in there with him?’ (name) suggested. ‘Two people searching are faster than one.’

Was this because I told her and Kuina to stay together? Silly girl. For someone usually so sharp, she was truly incapable of reading between the lines. 

‘If the executives start heading back,’ I pointed out, ‘you won’t be able to understand the others quickly enough.’ It was the best excuse I could come up with. If only she would take it and be quiet. 

Kuina slid off the bed and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s better this way, believe me. It’ll look more natural if you and I are together instead of just waiting around on our own. We can pretend we’re talking.’ 

(Name) pulled a face at how things had panned out. If she chose to go behind our backs and swap positions with Arisu there was little I could do to stop her, except perhaps cancelling the plan entirely. However that would raise more questions than it answered, and there wouldn’t be another chance like this. 

Leaving no room for debate, I tried to explain to her that Arisu would be better for the job, but with Kuina’s gentle insistence, she gave up pestering me about it and finally accepted her place in the plan.

‘Fine, fine.’ She raised her hands in mock surrender and stood up wearily. ‘You guys win. I just… I don’t know. I’m kind of tired. I’ll see you both tomorrow, okay?’ 

Hearing those words did little to relieve the unease I was feeling. Kuina’s smile was too fake, and once the door had closed and (name) was out of earshot, I reminded her, ‘You shouldn’t make it too obvious. If she knows about Arisu, she’ll get in the way.’ 

She slid into the chair where Arisu had been sitting, and rubbed her fingers against her temple. ‘This is a nightmare.’ 

A funny choice of words. 

‘We’re in a parallel world playing games to survive,’ I said. ‘This isn’t as easy as a nightmare.’ 

‘It’d be easier if you told her the truth.’ 

Kuina’s obsession was starting to get repetitive, and I was already bored of it. I got to my feet and pulled my hood over my head. The movement seemed to catch her attention, her head snapping up as I walked towards the door. 

‘Hey,’ she called, ‘where are you going?’ 

Fishing my headphones out of my pockets, I considered dropping by a certain room, but after remembering the way she recoiled when I looked at her, I decided better of it. ‘Somewhere where I can get some quiet. Tomorrow, you should go to her room before we start. There’s a chance she could offer to trade places with him.’ 

Kuina started to object, but I didn’t care enough to listen. Her voice silenced as the door closed behind me. In times like this, when my head was crowded and the hollowness was clawing at my mind, all I craved was the silence of the roof. 

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

As the story went, Hatter had died purely in his game, despite how his body had never been cleaned up, nor the way it had been dumped without a care in the river. And now, the numbers had been re-shuffled, making Aguni the new number-one. At least, that’s what they intended to tell the residents. However, Aguni wasn’t officially number-one until he opened the black envelope. 

One by one, the executives all filed into the meeting room, Niragi lazily stretched out in the seat across from me, and Last Boss leaning against the wall. The former number-two, Kuzuryu, was calm as usual, resting his laced fingers in front of him. He shared a look with Mira who only grinned in return, a little too interested in the ceremony. 

My focus, however, was on the man at the head of the table. 

From the corner of my eye, Aguni drew the envelope closer and pried open the bright red seal. Then he paused. 

Well, isn’t this interesting? 

There was a slight delay where his expression froze, taken aback by the paper before him. His brows drew together, then all at once, as if it had never happened, he folded up the sheet and slid it into the envelope once more. 

Aguni wasn’t a man caught off guard so easily. Whatever he’d seen on the paper was the opposite of what he’d expected. Either the code was more complex than just a set of numbers, or the page contained something different entirely. It was when Aguni took Hatter’s ring and stamped it across the hot wax seal that everything suddenly clicked. 

The wax hardened, leaving behind a mirrored embossing of the word “BOSS”. A mirrored embossing that resembled a set of numbers. 

Hatter really was a paranoid man. 

The passcode was 8022. 

[botanicials]

wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record. 

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :)  That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen  you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly. 

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”