#i kind of miss that au sometimes it was really fun to work on something so long

[linipik]

Witches ✨

[outeremissary]

You know I spent a lot of time reading Nuzlocke comics and fics as a teen and I think that really shaped my understanding of approaches to canon in fandom. Like there's fandom you're doing straight and trying to be faithful to the material on, and then there's fandom like a lot of the Good Stuff on Nuzlockes and wacked out chess AUs where you're somewhere on the sliding scale of remixes from "playing fast and loose with the base material" to "reality is whatever makes the story fun. heart." And they're both valid. God I fucking love how insane Nuzlocke comics could get.

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[almostempty]

too good to be true (frankie x f!reader)

Too good to be true (frankie morales x f!reader) | wc: 9k | other fics  | Ao3

summary: frankie, a regular at your coffee shop, is there for you when your boyfriend joel breaks up with you and disappears practically overnight. despite not knowing each other long, frankie just seems to be perfect for you and you fall hard and fast 

note: this was supposed to be for the accidental adultery trope for @auteurdelabre 's trope challenge from last month. i thought accidental adultery was more like the wrong bed trope so--you can find that here with Dieter's party, but it turns out accidental adultery is more like ..when you thought ur lover died in the war or something and you start a new life with someone else and then they show up again. that didn’t interest me- soooo (spoiler) in my version reader doesn’t know that joel only left her bc of frankie 

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, dark!frankie, stalker!frankie, dubcon, lies, deceit, coffee shop au gone wrong, accidental adultery, ex bf Joel, abandonment issues, anxiety, breakup grief, using sex to avoid processing emotions, face fucking, masturbation, crying, love bombing aka emotional manipulation/abuse, frankie doesn’t have a job bc he nefariously acquired a large cash settlement from his return trip to the jungle– or maybe he has a military pension idk don’t ask questions, revenge porn, jealousy, delusional reader, jealous and possessive frankie, if i missed something important pls let me know, 

standard weds warnings: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction so it’s free to imagine it raw; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes and i accept that 🫡

You don’t remember the first time you met, but you remember when you started looking forward to seeing Frankie. He was a quiet regular, didn’t ask for much, but was always polite. Kind. He’d come by at the same time, get the same coffee, and sit at a table in the lobby reading the news on his phone. Most mornings, you were busy enough that you didn’t even think about starting a conversation, but you’d sneak a glance here and there as he sat. Sometimes, he caught you, and you’d both flash a quick smile. 

He was a fun little fantasy to look forward to. You weren’t single or looking anyway, but it didn’t hurt to have something to help you crawl out of bed at 3:30 AM. It was always quiet until just after 6 AM, when the commuters started coming through. Frankie usually came through the lobby just as the morning rush was picking up, curls still damp from his post-workout shower and a soft smile just for you. 

Until it changed. He started showing up even earlier. That’s when you began to get to know him bit by bit. In the quiet dark of the early mornings, while the espresso machines warmed up and the 

You learned that he moved into town this year–not in this neighborhood, but he likes the coffee here, so it’s worth the morning drive. He’s single. Ex-military. Sticks to a routine. Likes your name. Remembers details. Asks follow-up questions about your weekend plans on Monday mornings. 

Did you and your boyfriend see that movie you were thinking about? Did you get to sleep in like you’d hoped? Did he take you to the farmer’s market? Did he like the recipe you wanted to try out? 

It was sweet. And infuriating. Someone you barely knew always remembered your plans or the little throwaway comments you’d make. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but it always stung when he’d ask about your plans, and you were left coming up with excuses for why they never seemed to happen. You carried the discomfort home with you until it spilled over into your relationship. 

And, thanks to Frankie really, it forced you to talk about it. Your boyfriend, Joel, had been drifting away. Complacent and avoidant. He’d been staying late at work, canceling on your weekend plans, always too tired to fuck, generally just a bad-tempered brick wall rather than a boyfriend. But after a serious conversation and some threats you hoped you wouldn’t have to follow through on, he’d agreed to make changes. 

It was working, too. You made date nights a priority. You sent flirty texts during the day–even if neither of you had time to respond right away. 

When he had long days during the week, you’d give him a back massage. You’d sit straddling his ass, rubbing down his shoulder blades, kneading circles with your thumbs, and savoring the view of his broad back and the warmth of his body under yours. You would pull the stress and tension away from his neck and spine, eliciting low groans of pleasure from Joel that would stir up the heat pooling in your core. You’d keep it up until you lulled him to sleep–or on your favorite nights–he’d flip over underneath you and watch you ride him until you were both slick with sweat, panting, and needing another quick shower before succumbing to sleep. 

It’s those tender moments that make it hurt that much more now. 

To think he could just throw you away like this. That he didn’t think you were worth the face-to-face conversation. Worth the closure. Just leaving you a fucking note, like you were a business transaction. Here’s your memo letting you know he no longer requires your services. 

Fucking coward. 

You re-read the letter for the thousandth time. It’s real, and you aren’t insane. You shove it back into your apron pocket. It’s your token. A reminder that this hell is your reality. 

You slip back to the front counter, plastering on your best customer service smile. 

But of course, it’s fucking Frankie. The concern is written across his face before he even gets to the counter. Are you that easy to read? You’re never going to make it through your shift. 

“You doing okay?” he asks softly as if he might spook you. Stupid big brown eyes. Just like Joel’s. They make you weak. You can’t be weak. You try to shift into a more defensive mode–chest forward, shoulders back. 

“Why? Do I look like shit today?” 

“No, never,” he tries to reassure you. Always so sweet to you. 

“Sorry, I just mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. I feel like shit.” You grumble as you grab his drip coffee and set it on the counter between the two of you. 

“I take it he’s still gone then?” 

You can only nod back in agreement. Can’t even look Frankie in the eyes; you just linger on his mouth and scruffy jaw where it seems safer to stare. Until his mouth shifts into a sympathetic frown. 

“You deserve better, you know,” he says like it’s a confession. Only meant for you and his coffee to hear. 

“Sure,” you sigh. Maybe he’s right. You deserve someone that can look you in the eye when they break up with you. Explain in more than a few sentences why they’d block you and disappear like a fucking ghost. Maybe you never really knew Joel at all if he could do this to you. 

You can feel your eyes welling up again, your face is still swollen from crying all night, and you’re sick of the emotional whiplash. Did you miss the signs the whole time? Was it something you did? Will you ever know? The cafe starts to blur as your heart rate increases. 

“Hey,” Frankie murmurs, “breathe.” It’s soft, but the timbre of his voice draws your attention. You focus on inhaling and exhaling, willing away the sobs. Just as you steady, they almost start all over again when you think about how pathetic you must seem to him. Standing at the register, sucking in shaky breath, and trying not to have a complete breakdown. 

But Frankie assures you he doesn’t think you’re pathetic. And somehow, you get through the morning. And the next. Day by day, you crawl through the week against everything inside of you that wants to scream and hide in bed for a month. By the end of the week, the only thought that gets you through the opening routine is that it’s your last shift before the weekend. 

There’s no way you could survive another shift just going through the motions like an undead barista. You know you’re on the edge, fragile and raw. You can just get through today and then spend the weekend locked in your bed wallowing, ugly crying, binge eating, anything. 

Your flimsy resistance almost crumbles when Frankie shows up with flowers for you. It’s too sweet. He seems so concerned. He claims he wanted you to have something to help cheer you up over the weekend. 

His thoughtful gesture is overwhelming. Having someone care about you, think of you, worry about you? And worse, to know that it could be so easy for someone to show you they care. 

To know that you aren’t hard to love. 

He notices the way your eyes shine, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He apologizes, “If it’s too much, you don’t have to take them. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn’t want to make you cry.” 

You assure him they’re lovely and that you appreciate the gesture. You give him your warmest smile through your misty eyes. And you take the flowers home. 

You stare at them all weekend. 

Your favorite flowers. How did he know? They make you think of Frankie all weekend. His smile, how reliable he is with his routine, his thoughtfulness, how kind he is to you. 

The qualities you thought you had found in Joel. 

You let yourself embrace your agony for the weekend. Determined to make it through at least the first stage of grief. As if you can allot a number of hours to it and just check it off your list. 

A part of you admits that there’s something comforting about knowing you’ll see Frankie again Monday morning. That someone will check in on you. 

And he does. 

Reliable as ever, he shows up in the dark cover of the early morning. You greet each other with your deep morning voices, and there’s something about the fact that you’re the first person you both speak to every morning that draws a genuine smile from you. 

You keep going to work. Frankie keeps showing up. The world keeps turning.

Days pass and you can start to fall asleep without having to exhaust yourself completely. Some of the weight on your chest sloughs off when your ribs shake with laughter at Frankie’s jokes. His charm brightens your dark days. 

One afternoon, as you’re dropping an armful of grocery bags onto the counter, you notice the flowers he gave you. They’re starting to wilt. You hesitate to toss them for some reason. Convinced they’ve got another day in them, at least. 

You sweep up the fallen petals and pollen, spinning the vase to find the best angle left. The flowers may be fading, but Frankie is beginning to occupy a permanent residence in your mind. You find yourself keeping mental notes of things you want to share with him the next morning. A joke about a show you both keep up with, something you saw on your walk home, a question you forgot to ask the day before because you were distracted. 

Distracted by things that don’t sound like they could possibly be distracting. Like the curve of his bottom lip or the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Or worse, the way he smiles so wide you can see his dimples when you double down on an argument about a movie, TV show, or the best takeout on this side of town. 

The next morning he has fresh flowers for you. It’s as if he knew you were hesitating to get rid of them, to lose the physical evidence. You squint at him with a playful accusation of how did you know they were on their last legs? He reasons it’s been a week already. A week. It feels like it’s only been a day, and at the same time, it feels like a whole month has passed. 

It helps. 

The following week is much of the same. Morning chats with Frankie. Busy shifts with rushes and endless cleaning tasks. Running errands, trying to keep in touch with friends, trying to keep yourself too busy and distracted to fall back into the sharp pain of loss. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of waking up alone. Of the way Joel erased himself so completely from your life, you have to find tangible reminders that he was ever real. 

You loosen your grip on the hope that Joel might show up with an apology or even respond to the text you had sent. He can’t even hear you out or answer a single question? You give up altogether on the idea that the whole thing might have been some confusing mistake.

There’s still a hole rotting in your heart, but if you stay busy enough, you can ignore it. Mostly. 

You stick to your plan, steadfast that time will heal your wounds. Days pass, and you find yourself once again asking Frankie what he has planned for the day. But this time, he hesitates. 

Frankie tells you he’ll be out of town for a few days. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like he jammed his fingers into that hole in your heart when he tells you. Don’t abandon me. Please. 

He must see right through you. 

“Here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I know it’s only a few days, but I was thinking I don’t want to miss out on your remarkably accurate reality TV predictions. You take the napkin with his number written on it. How old-fashioned. It makes your heart flutter. “Keep me updated.” 

You swallow the butterflies and turn the energy into a smirk. “You’re so going to regret this,” you tease. 

You feel lit from within, glowing and floaty for the rest of your shift. Getting the hot regular’s number gives you a rush. It’s not like he asked you on a date or anything, but still, it feels good to have someone want to keep talking to you. 

Until you clock out and immediately start spiraling. Should you text him now just to give him your number? Wish him a safe trip? Play it cool and wait until tomorrow morning? Or maybe he’s busy in the morning? Shit. You never even asked what his trip was for. 

……

It’s early afternoon when Frankie’s phone buzzes. Your shift must have just ended. 

You: it’s me!

You: figured it’s only fair you get my number now, too 

Frankie: Hey you :) 

You: hey :) 

You: i hope the trip goes well 

Frankie: Thanks, it’ll be better now. 

You: how come? 

He underestimated you. He thought he wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow. Thought it would take longer. 

Frankie: Well, I just got this pretty girl’s number. Now I’ve got her updates to look forward to. 

He shakes his head to himself, pocketing his phone and stretching out on his sofa. 

Maybe he didn’t need the ruse of being out of town at all. You don’t need the absence to suck you in any deeper; you’re moving on faster than he thought. Good. 

He sprawls out across the couch like a lazy dog in the sun, TV on mute, still fully dressed. He drags his eyes over the bare walls of his apartment. He’s going to need the next few days to make the place seem a little more welcoming. More like a place you’d be happy to wake up in. 

He checks the notes hidden in his phone of places you shop, your favorite color, the way your apartment is decorated. He already knows what you want. What you need. With that thought, he drifts off, satisfied, into a long nap. 

He doesn’t wake until his evening alarm goes off, checking his phone to see what reality show you’re going to be glued to tonight. MILF manor. Who comes up with these? He rolls his eyes, stretching, yawning, and traipsing across his apartment to find some cold pizza in the fridge. 

Holding one slice between his teeth and the other in one hand, he debates whether he should take a drive through your neighborhood or stay in for the night. His phone buzzes again, and he figures it’s a sign. He drops his pants near the hallway and scarfs his cold dinner as he settles back in the living room, unmuting the show and opening your messages. 

You’re funny. 

Sending quick-witted observations and callbacks. 

You force him to pay attention. You’re sharp. If he doesn’t watch, you’ll know. You always call him out for missing the nuance. You challenge that he could predict the next winner if he paid closer attention. 

When you get frustrated with him and huff about how he missed something completely obvious, he memorizes your expressions. The fire in your eyes when you’re passionate. You feel so deeply and express your emotions so freely. 

He likes that about you. Funny. Smart. Bold. Passionate. Sexy.

Perfect. 

He lets his mind wander as he leans back. The room glows from the light of the TV, flashing brighter and dimmer. The look on your face when he said he’d be gone for a few days pops into his mind, how your eyes flashed wide and the soft pout that tugged at your bottom lip. 

You need him. It’s so clear. And you’re so perfect. 

The show is just noise. Static. 

He closes out of your messages. Opening up his photos. Scrolling through pictures of you. Some from social media, and some taken while you were working and unaware. 

Perfect. 

His eyes fall shut as he tips his head back, relaxed and comfortable as he sinks deeper into the cushion. 

“Perfect lips, perfect mouth,” he mutters to himself as he sets the phone aside altogether. 

It’s a simple but effective scene that plays out in his mind. A go-to fantasy since the day he first laid eyes on you. 

He wedges his boxers down just far enough to free his half-hard cock. He tries to start slow, with languid strokes as he imagines the heat of your mouth sucking him deeper. The sight of you looking up at him with your lips stretched around him. 

“Just perfect,” he groans to himself. He can’t hold back his urgency at the thought of you, quickly amping up the speed of his wrist and the strength of his grip. It’s minutes, or maybe seconds before his muscles are tensing and jerking as he comes to the thought of you. 

It eases the tension, but he still needs you. Soon. 

……

The rest of your week passes quickly. 

Your head is in the clouds over your new texting buddy. You check your phone on all your breaks but send yourself into another spiral, trying to work out the balance between enthusiastic but not needy. Responding quickly, but not being too much. You don’t want to come off as crazy.

It fully absorbs your attention. The excitement and the anxiety. The rush when you get a new message and the anguish over every word you type. Rereading your messages until you get a response. Worrying yourself over your silly jokes and banter. But when he responds, it’s addictive. You’re smitten when he matches your energy or sends a flirty quip. 

It makes you smile so hard your cheeks burn. You get distracted taking orders. It’s all-consuming. 

………

Frankie keeps tabs on you the rest of the week. When you walk home from work, when you run errands, when you’re out with your friends. He picks up things for his apartment while you’re at work. At night, he drives down your block. He watches you watching TV. Until dark, then you diligently shut your curtains just as the last dregs of the sunset disappear. 

Tonight, he lingers, still parked across the street from your apartment building. He sends another text, and his eyes flick to your curtains like you might open them back up just for him. You’re such a good girl for that, though–not letting anyone else watch. 

Frankie: I’m back tomorrow. You have weekend plans? 

You: that’s great! no plans for me

Frankie: You want to watch tomorrow’s episode together? 

You: that would be fun! 

Frankie: Perfect :) 

………

You don’t know why you offered to host. You feel like your place has been a mess. Since Joel left, you’ve been letting your depression piles calcify. You shove your laundry into the washer, toss your unopened mail into a drawer, and do your best to make it look like you’re a fully functioning adult. 

Something about having Frankie over has you feeling pent up. 

You’re nervous. Excited. And you’re still unregulated and exhausted from the emotional devastation of Joel disappearing on you. You’ve been letting yourself sink into the distraction of making a new friend. A hot, new friend. But as helpful as the distraction is, you still haven’t really processed the pain. 

Maybe it’s too soon to let yourself think about Frankie all the time. Maybe you need to really feel your misery and figure out what you missed. What you did wrong. No, even your body rejects that idea, sending a shiver of anxiety through you. 

Fuck it. 

You’re both single adults. There’s no rulebook that says you can’t entertain a new crush. So what’s the harm? You’re hoping that seeing Frankie in person will help you get clarity on the flirty vibe of his texts. Are they truly flirty, or are you just delusional? 

You do your best to find a casual “just watching trash TV” type of outfit after your everything shower. You bought enough snacks to feed a high school football team, you know, just in case. You flutter around your space, hastily cleaning anything else you can think of, worried about details that only an evil in-law would scrutinize you for. 

Despite your frenzy and feeling on edge all afternoon, the concern all seems to vanish when Frankie shows up at your door. You welcome him in and swoon a little over the fresh flowers he brought you. You still have some nerves that don’t relent, but they’re the smiley, giggly, butterfly type of nerves now. 

As you get settled, it all feels surprisingly easy. 

You make each other laugh. You offer your insane spread of snacks, and he settles next to you on your sofa before the episode starts. He appreciates all of your commentary and banters with you over your strongest opinions. It feels surprisingly natural to be spending time together like this. Without an espresso machine between you. 

You’re taken with his presence. He balances you. Even when he debates your controversial takes and unpopular opinions, he doesn’t get worked up like you. 

His calm demeanor is grounding. His nearness and steadiness relaxes you.  

The stress let down makes your head feel heavy, and without thinking, you rest your temple against Frankie’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It feels comforting until you realize how forward you’re being and snap your head back up. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, scooting away. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, voice soft and low. 

He’s staring at you so intently. You feel the heat in your face, embarrassed at acting so comfortable with him and self-conscious under his gaze. You still don’t really know what he wants. And you don’t want to fuck anything up. But he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, you swear his eyes drop to your mouth before they flick back up. 

“More than okay,” he adds, and your stomach flips at his honesty. “Here,” he shifts and invites you to scoot under his arm. You get comfortable, resting your head on his chest. 

You try to watch the TV, but you can feel Frankie watching you. It makes you restless and unable to think clearly. You peer up at him. It’s a charged look; maybe it was already obvious, but you hadn’t felt confident enough to put the pieces together until now. 

“What?” You whisper, unable to fight the smile pulling at your mouth. 

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs. 

Uh oh. Your breath hitches, and something in you cracks. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you try to hide it, whispering thanks into his chest and looking down. 

“Hey,” he tilts your chin to look up at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to will away the emotions that bubble up inside of you. “That’s really sweet of you.” You steady your breathing, slower and deeper. What is wrong with you? You expected something flirty. You didn’t expect something so.. heartfelt?

The more you slow your breathing, the more it feels like you’re inhaling the essence of Frankie. Whatever combination of laundry detergent, deodorant, body wash, whatever it is is all combined it’s soothing. Nice. It calms you. 

But why? How does just breathing against him make you feel safe? 

You can’t even think about safety. You can’t count on anyone else. What if he leaves out of nowhere, too? Your thoughts pick up, racing. Falling deeper into your anxieties. You aren’t even on a date; you shouldn’t be worried about this guy abandoning you. 

Your fears eat at you, worsening your fragile state. Your body shakes gently as you try to breathe through the anxiety. 

Frankie runs his hand along your back. He’s so warm, solid, and strong. 

You feel like you must seem insane, which makes your emotional flooding worse. He just keeps murmuring at you about how you’re okay, and he pulls you into his arms to give you a firm hug, regulating you. Fixing you. 

When you lean back to apologize for crying on him, he shakes his head in disagreement. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says it like he means it, like he won’t be taking questions or arguments. You sniffle as you do your best to accept that. “You still look beautiful,” he says, pulling you back towards him. 

It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear. Your face nestles against his neck. Delirious with your state of mind and his flattery and reassurance. You can’t stop yourself from kissing his neck. The exact spot you’ve been so distracted by on so many mornings. His skin is soft and warm; you can taste your tears, wet and salty on your lips. You do it again before you freeze. What are you doing? 

Frankie’s hand slips up the back of your neck, cradling your head in his warm palm. It feels like encouragement. You test your theory, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw where his scruffy beard tickles your nose. 

The TV might still be on, but all you can hear is your breathing and his. The sound of your lips against his skin. And the low-pitched noise in Frankie’s throat that urges you on. Provoking a needful fire within you. Intense and frantic. You nip at his ear before stamping open-mouthed kisses back down his neck, pulling back only to breathe hot and humid against his skin. 

You hesitate, a frenzied desire has you wanting to straddle his lap and take more and more, but something makes you pause. Frankie knows. He feels your weight shifting and makes the move for you, pulling you onto his lap. 

“I know,” he says as his large hands wrap around both sides of your jaw. “Keep going.” The encouragement pours over you like warm honey. Face to face, you wrap your arms around his neck. The last thread of your doubt snaps and you close the gap. Pressing your lips together. Softly for a second, before your mouths are parting and your tongues and teeth work fervently to express your desire. 

Then it becomes a desperate blur, your fingers curling into his hair, tugging until he’s groaning into your mouth. His hands slipping under your shirt, hot against your skin, snaking back down to knead the curve of your ass while you roll your hips, grinding into his lap in search of friction. 

You feel him hardening beneath you and a molten hot thrill radiates between your legs. There’s a raw quality to your movements as you bite at his lip, scratch at his shoulders, and whine with a frustrated edge. 

You’re taking out all your emotional distress on him. Or, rather, you’re begging him to erase it all, to bite back harder, to use force, to dominate. You keep trying to use your body instead of words. Just teeth, nails, and needy writhing. Anything sharp, forceful, rough. An offering. 

Tears still roll down your cheeks, hot with anger, anguish, and everything you can’t name. You aren’t interested in exploring your emotions. You need something more visceral. 

You sit back, hands shooting towards Frankie’s belt, chasing more, when he stops you in your tracks. His hand possessively grips below your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 

Your cunt throbs at the look on his face. The soft, gentle Frankie is gone. His face is hard and dangerous as he studies you. For some reason that makes you want him even more. 

His fingers dig into your cheek eliciting a sharp inhale from you, parting your lips into a small “o” shape, before he releases you. You know you’re a mess. Teary, panting, wild-eyed–but his lips curl into sinful grin. Reflexively you tilt your pelvis, drawing the heat of your core along the ridge of his erection. Your eyes flutter shut, as you aim to forget yourself and focus on the sensation. 

But his chest shakes, jostling you in his lap, with his rumbly, dark chuckle. It’s condescending, startling you and stilling your hips. You blink at Frankie. The charged air is thick. The rest of the room has faded. Your brows furrow as you wonder, but your thighs tense. 

“Keep going.” 

It’s a demand this time, not an affirmation or encourager. His sinister smirk is gone, replaced by a frighteningly blank stare. His carnivorous eyes drop, watching your fingers as you work open his belt and jeans. 

Shit. You can tell he’s big as you trace your fingers along his cock, over his boxers, savoring the heat in your palm. The damp fabric at the tip pleases you, and you peel the waistband down to reveal the glorious vision that has you wetting your lips. 

“Shit,” you repeat out loud this time. A primal, hungry need possesses you as you admire his cock. The glistening head, thick shaft, and dark patch of curls at the base. Just the sight of him is intoxicatingly masculine and dominant. 

You need him in your mouth. 

You slink off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs. Excitement flutters in your pussy and you feel like you’ve fallen into a into a trance. Your body moves faster than your mind, tugging at his jeans as he repositions at the edge of the couch. 

“I know,” he mutters under his breath as you wrap your hand around the smooth skin. “I know what you need,” he continues. You can only hum in response. Preoccupied by the slip of your thumb dragging a trail of precome down along the underside of his cock. 

He cups the back of your head, urging you towards his tip with a commanding open growled down at you. You want to pout for not getting the chance to tease and savor the moment, but you don’t have the time when he slides past your lips and hits the back of your throat. 

You choke, sputtering around him and pulling back. His hand encourages you to try again and you’re eager to take it like he gives it. Refocusing on controlling your breath, you look up to see the fierceness in his eyes on his otherwise blank face. A confusing mix of warning and excitement stirs in your core, making you squirm on your knees. 

The discomfort makes something flicker across his face. 

You try again, determined, like you’ve got something to prove. You pull his other hand to your cheek. Please lead. You catch the start of a smirk on his face before he’s guiding you once again. It makes your mind blank; all you can do is breathe and focus on relaxing your muscles. It’s a welcome release from the stress. Grounding you in the present. You can only think as fast as he can glide along your tongue. 

As you build a rhythm, he verges on brutal, but when you’re rewarded with the delicious sound of Frankie groaning because of you the intensity means nothing. Your eyes water as you refuse to gag out of sheer willpower. His thumb smears your tears across your cheekbone, and he pulls you off of his cock.

He takes in your swollen lips, ragged breathing, and wet lashes like he’s committing the details to memory as you catch your breath, before he’s tapping at your cheek. You open wide for him and he rests the head of his cock on your tongue, shallowly tipping you back and forth. 

Your jaw could be aching or your knees may be digging into the rug, but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s much easier to meditate on the weight of his length slipping along your wet tongue. Centering yourself on that thought, your eyes flutter shut. 

You wonder if this side of Frankie has always been lurking beneath the surface. Chillingly collected, but with something viscous bleeding into the edges. You wonder if maybe you’ve called to this part of him with the mayhem of your state of mind. 

“Yeah,” Frankie rasps in his gravelly tone causing you to blink back up at him. You wonder if he can read your mind; if he was answering you. The hint of a smile remains on the corner of his lips when you look up, “Making you feel better already.” He’s presumptive but accurate. 

You give a muffled affirmation that vibrates in your throat as he slides past your lips and you take him deep as he can be. All your senses are filled with Frankie when you inhale, when you swallow, when you blink. You give, pliant for him, trusting him with the control. You don’t worry about how obscene you might look with tears rolling down your cheeks. You just want to hear what other sounds he might make for you. His thumb drags over your cheek again, wiping away the wet streaks. 

“This is the only reason you ever cry for me.” Frankie’s voice is dripping with affection. And possession. 

It makes everything foggy. The sentiment, the delivery, the authority. He doesn’t let you dwell on the unspoken commitment in his statement. Doesn’t give you the time to question him or spiral inward. 

Your head swims until he pulls you up, strips you, and settles you back onto his lap. Some action movie autoplayed after your episode ended. The crashing and explosions of the chase scene in the background don’t ruin the moment, in a twisted way it’s almost a fitting soundtrack for the two of you. 

Frankie allows you to pull his shirt up, over his head, and time slows. The warmth radiating between your bodies is nothing compared to the searing heat of Frankie’s gaze. It’s dizzying, between his torrid expression and his grip on your hips as he guides you closer. 

You go entirely mindless when the head of his cock nudges your clit, gasping as he slips along your wet seam. It brings everything into focus for you, and you reach between your bodies to guide him directly to your deplorably empty cunt. 

“Oh, fuck,” your word turns to a groan as he breaches your entrance, and you tense at the stretch, holding still. 

“Keep going,” he orders lowly, and you inch down until he impatiently takes control, slamming you down until you meet his hips. Your mouth hangs open at his move and the immediate fullness. His hardened look softens as your walls ripple and flex, adjusting to his size. 

At least until you start moving, grinding against him, slowly at first. Then the sharp sternness returns. You’re unaware, chasing the friction as your clit rubs against the dark hair surrounding the base of his cock. 

“Knew you’d be perfect,” he says it more like an I told you so to himself than praise for you, but the words affect you just the same. Your chest rises, swelling with pride, and you chase his approval instead of your pleasure. 

You ride him until your thighs burn. His hands are everywhere. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, squeezing all of your soft curves, spreading your legs wider to watch where he disappears inside of you. You bounce eagerly for him, spine arching to draw his eyes to the way your tits ripple from the force of your body colliding into his. 

You whine in disapproval when he interrupts you, pulling you flush against his chest, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Give it to me,” Frankie demands, his voice rough and raw, breath hot along your sweat-damp skin. 

He runs his hand down your body, thumb circling your clit, adding the pressure you need. You edge closer and closer, body taut with anticipation. “Come for me,” he commands. It’s the authority and his gravelly voice rolling through you that launches you into a shuddering release. 

Frankie continues talking while you’re disoriented by the overwhelming pleasure. “For me,” he grunts through clenched teeth as your pussy contracts around him. “I know that’s what you need.” You can only moan as you cling to his broad shoulders. “Only me.” 

You figure he’s just rambling until he grabs you by the jaw again, demanding you respond. Demanding you repeat it for him. And you do. With glassy eyes and you mutter his words back to him. Declaring you only come for him. That you need him. 

Your words unlock something within Frankie. “Good,” he approves. “Good girl.” He praises you gruffly as he holds you steady, pounding into you with an untamed strength. You’re floating, starry-eyed and softheaded at his praise. Murmuring sentence fragments and his name, conjuring throaty grunts from Frankie until he stills, coming deep inside of you. “Only me,” he echoes and you confirm. 

“Only you.” 

In your unguarded state, it’s a welcome commitment. Maybe you haven’t had any real dates yet, but he knows you. He wants you. He tells you he wants to take care of you, and that feels fucking good. 

You collapse against his chest, matching his breathing. The movie playing behind you reaches a tragic twist, setting the third act in motion and solidifying the protagonists dark path. You run your tongue along the column of Frankie’s throat as the score of the film hangs unresolved on a dissonant chord. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you possessively and captivating you. 

Your bodies flow, connected and attuned. In his lap, in his arms, with his tongue slipping between your lips, you feel wanted. Assured. Content to accept that he knows what you need. 

And he’s unrelenting. Determined to prove it to you. Again and again. 

All night. On the couch, in the shower, in your bed. 

Until the night bleeds into the morning and he doesn’t disappear. 

You take turns waking and watching one another sleep. Verifying he’s real. Watching your chest rise and fall before drifting off again. Until the sun heats your room and you wake again to find yourself curled into his broad frame. His chest to your back as he draws his fingers down your along the dip and swell of your waist and hip. 

“Did you mean it?” you ask, in a strikingly solemn tone for the soft setting. Breath shallow as you stare off toward the window. Not ready to turn and face him in the daylight. 

“Every word.” He punctuates his affirmation with a tender kiss behind your ear. His reassurance satisfies you; warmth blooms from your chest spreading to your fingers and toes. 

You spend a lazy Sunday together. Eating, laughing, fucking, and gazing at each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s too sweet to end. Instead, you become inseparable, taking turns staying at each other’s places until you have to go back. 

The world feels bright again. Lighter. 

He had paid such close attention as you got to know each other. He’s almost suspiciously perfect. Picking up your favorite takeout meals, putting on your favorite movies, and keeping your flowers fresh as the weeks pass. 

You feel like you can never get enough of him somehow. You think about him all day at work, even though he still visits you every morning like clockwork. Your heart swells when he meets you at the end of your shift to walk you home. 

You find yourself canceling your happy hour dates with friends to stay in with Frankie instead. Postponing and rescheduling, you’ll see them soon. It’s like there aren’t enough minutes in the day to get your fill of Frankie. 

You’re insatiable, always needing him in your mouth, between your legs, fucking you through the mattress, on the counter, any surface you can find. You’re never too much. He’s equally infatuated with you, a mutual obsession. Fulfilling your darker desires and unleashing fantasies you’ve never felt safe enough to explore. He’s greedy and hungry for you. Making you feel wanted and desired. 

With your head in the clouds, all you can see is how much he cares about you. He texts you whenever you’re apart, picks you up after your shifts, shows you off to his friends. 

You barely have to do anything for yourself. He’s always thinking of you, predicting your needs before know them yourself. He picks up your mail for you, runs errands before you get home, and stocks his apartment with all of the products you use and love so you don’t have to go home for days at a time. 

Things are so good that it’s rare when something goes wrong. 

But when it does, it really fucking hurts. 

When you get into an argument, a real one, he doesn’t fight with you. He leaves, swiftly and without another word. He doesn’t respond to your texts or calls. It feels like you’ve been torn in half; you sob and shake alone in your bed until your alarm blares and your headache throbs. 

He doesn’t respond the following day, doesn’t come in for coffee, and doesn’t show any signs of existing. You move through your shift like a hollow corpse haunting the cafe. Time drags agonizingly slowly. 

Every time the door opens your eyes snap towards the entrance, hoping to see the familiar curls and broad shoulders, but it’s not him. You restart your phone just on the odd chance there’s something wrong with it. He wouldn’t abandon you. He knows that would destroy you. 

The void in your chest is cold and dark. Anger simmers somewhere inside of it, but it’s not strong enough to set you off. When Frankie shows up at the end of your shift, the anger is snuffed out completely. His presence immediately reverses your heartbreak, and suddenly you’re apologizing to him before he gets a word out. 

You have to. He has to know you wouldn’t do anything to make him leave. He can’t. He’s calm, accepting your apology and taking you home where he erases your pain. With his hands, and mouth, and cock. Until you forget what the argument was ever about, and what it felt like to watch him walk away. Until it’s back to normal. 

Every day you rely on him more and more; you can’t breathe without him. But when he’s with you, everything feels easy. Right. 

Not many things can throw the two of you off. Your friends seem happy enough for you, despite their questions and insistence that you come out with them more often. You get along well with Frankie’s friends. They’re quick witted and welcome you genuinely. 

They treat you like family, but it doesn’t stop Frankie’s jealousy from flaring up. If Benny smiles at you for too long or if you rest a hand on Will’s bicep when you laugh it only takes minutes before Frankie’s fingers dig into your arm and he whisks you away. 

It gives you a perverse thrill every time. 

When he folds you over the bathroom counter at his friend’s house. Demanding you watch in the mirror as he reminds you with a fierce snarl and devastating thrusts that you’re his. When you can still hear his friends horseing around outside, but he pounds into you with such force, you can’t quiet yourself. He slaps a hand around your mouth to silence you, growling into your ear that you’ll take it quietly, like a good girl. 

Sometimes you aren’t even sure what triggers him. 

Like when he fucks you against the side of his SUV in the parking lot of the trendy bar Benny had invited you both to. All you can piece together is Frankie muttering something about your dress as he yanks the top of it down letting your tits spill into the cool night air. He’s reckless and animalistic, claiming you roughly under the stars and streetlights before you can even get into the car let alone through your front door.

…..

Tonight, you both know exactly what got under his skin. Maybe not the why of it all, but he’s sure you know how he feels, and he wants to hear you say it. 

It started this afternoon. He picked you up from work, like usual, and you chatted in the car as he drove to the grocery store. You sighed, tiredly as you recounted an exchange with a rude customer, but when Frankie pulled your hand towards his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on your inner wrist. 

Predictably, it brightened your features. Knowing your buttons doesn’t dull the intoxicating effect you have on him, though. He loves the way you light up so easily for him and it serves to deepen his conviction time and time again. Like a constant affirmation that he is where he is supposed to be. That everything he does for is exactly what he should be doing. Exactly what you need. 

He was still ruminating on this as you led him through the aisles of the grocery store. Unbothered that you had to double back to the produce section after forgetting some fresh herb you determined was crucial to the dish you planned out. You dashed around the corner in front of him, with a giggle when Frankie’s heart stilled. 

He didn’t have time to distract you. Your laughter cut off immediately. 

“What the fuck?” you muttered and Frankie grabbed your hand. 

Joel’s pace quickened as he brushed past you. Your head turned, calling his name once, but Joel carried on as if you didn’t exist. Frankie studied your face, emotions flooded your expression as you watched Joel walking away. Something darker flickered across them. 

Frankie followed your line of sight. Flowers. Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

You apologized to Frankie. Clearly thrown off, but determined not to let it get to you or to Frankie. 

“I didn’t know he even lived here still,” you remarked. 

He doesn’t. The possessive fire burned through Frankie’s veins. “We’re going,” he commanded in a low tone that made your eyes flare wide. 

“What?”

“Now.”

“We can’t leave everything.” 

“They won’t arrest us.” He argued, as he all but carried you out the door, ushering you in a blur to his car and all the way home. Frankie moved swiftly and silently. Wholly consumed by the need to feel you writhing underneath him and crying out his name. He needed it so viscerally, he didn’t even have time to process how he was going to deal with Joel. 

Until you’re breathless and shuddering beneath him. Repeating everything he wants to hear. 

“Only for you,” you repeat as you rake your nails down his shoulder blades and the plane of his back. 

“Again,” he demands. You don’t know if he wants you to keep talking or to come again, but both are inevitable at this point. 

“I’m yours,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him as if you could pull him any deeper inside of you. He shifts slightly, angling your hips and your cunt clenches around him pulling him devastatingly close to the edge as you moan his name. 

He stills and you whine in protest as Frankie stretches past you to pick his phone up off the bedside table. “Keep going,” he orders as he points the lens at you. He needs you to say it again. He adjusts to resume his pace, snapping his hips into causing your lips to part with another moan. 

“I’m yours,” you repeat, “all yours.” He gives you a dark smile as he records you. Capturing all the lewd, wet sounds as he drives his cock into you, the euphoric smile that spreads on your face, and the words you know he always wants to hear. 

“Mine,” he agrees. 

……

You don’t see Joel again. And you don’t have time to dwell on the encounter anyway. Frankie keeps you busy and satisfied, and even surprises you by asking you to move in with him officially. Maybe it feels soon, but you spend nearly every day together anyway and the idea delights you. 

It’s an easy transition. You downsize some of your duplicate appliances, joking with him about how he must have great taste for having so many of the same products. He admits that you inspired a few of his purchases. 

You settle into a routine quickly, not much changes. 

Sometimes in the early morning, when you slip out of bed in the dark to get ready for your shift, you wonder if it’s all real. If someone can care about you as deeply as you care about them. But by the time you’re showered and dressed, he greets you with a sleepy kiss before pulling on his usual workout attire and driving you to work. 

You let your gaze linger this morning. Trailing along his profile as he drives, admiring all the details that you used to wonder about from the other side of the counter. His neck, those arms, his hands, those lips. They’re illuminated in flashes as you pass under the streetlights. 

You catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He always knows when you’re looking. He rests a hand just above your knee. He always knows what you need. And idea takes root in your mind, and you do everything to stop yourself from smiling and giving yourself away. It’ll take a few days to organize. He’s almost impossible to surprise. 

……

Later in the week, Frankie is on autopilot. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head before he lopes towards the ensuite for a shower. He only makes it a few strides before he’s on edge, noticing the lights he didn’t remember leaving on. He hears your voice. Relief and confusion twist together in his chest. How did you get back here before him? 

Walking into the bedroom you are a sexy surprise wrapped in red lingerie he’s never seen you wear before, but something is wrong. Your shoulders are curled inward, your cheeks are wet, and you’re hastily tying up your matching red satin robe. 

He scans the room, swallowing thickly when he notices the open coset door and the missing box on the shelf. 

He calls your name softly. 

“What is this, Frankie?” your voice shakes. Unsteady and wavering between fear and anger. 

You hold up his phone. Well, his other phone. Shit. 

…..

“Answer me,” you beg. Desperate for an explanation. For something to make sense. To understand how you went looking for the box with fuzzy handcuffs and instead found a phone with a new message from a number you still recognized. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and when he takes you into his arms you flinch. You want to shove him off of you. Despite your hostility, your body is still drawn to his. He always knows what you need. In his arms your heart feels tethered to his, like they could merge through the proximity of your rib cages. Like they beat for each other. 

“You trust me, right?” he asks. 

“Explain, please,” is all you can whisper. 

“It was to keep you safe,” he starts. 

“From what?” 

“To protect you. Joel wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t take care of you. Not the way you deserve.” 

“How would you know?” it’s still not making sense to you. 

“You told me.” He’s so self-assured. Like, he’s always right. Like, he can’t even imagine why you’d be upset right now. “I did it for you,” he adds. 

“Did what?” you need him to say it out loud. You need him to fix this. 

“I know you thought Joel was trying, but he was only going to drag it out. Disappoint you over and over. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like for me to watch you go through that?” 

You don’t answer. 

“I couldn’t watch. I made him an offer, but he’s a stubborn man.” 

You snort quietly at that understatement. Nobody tells Joel what to do. 

“I just had to find the right leverage.” 

Frankie holds you so tight, you can’t wriggle around to look him in the eyes. 

“He couldn’t give you what you need, not like I can. I know what you need. And, think of how fast you got over him anyway. You were mine all along.” 

You’re lightheaded. From the shock of finding the evidence. From his words. From the way you believe him. You want to sit down. You tap at his arms insistently, begging against his chest, but he keeps talking. His deep voice rumbling in your ears. 

“You wouldn’t have understood it then. I had to keep it from you to protect you. So we could have what we have now.” He’s not listening to you. Not letting you go. It makes you snap. 

“Let go of me!” 

“You have to understand first.” 

“I’ll listen,” you plead. “Just let me breathe.” He lets you step back, but doesn’t release you from his grip. His hands are glued to your arms. He waits, steady and chillingly calm.

Slowly, the pieces start to fall into place. The unanswered questions from your breakup. The way Joel completely vanished. 

“I thought he just left,” you whisper to yourself. 

“He did,” Frankie argues. 

“I thought he didn’t want me,” you continue. 

“He didn’t. Not the way that I want you.” 

Something cold trickles down your spine and you look at Frankie. For a moment he’s a complete stranger. Your stomach sinks and your vision spins. Slamming your eyes shut you filter through your racing thoughts. 

It wasn’t fate that led you into Frankie’s arms. 

You wound up crying on his cock by design, trying to fuck away the pain of a heartbreak that wasn’t even real. You’ve fallen into a whole new life, while the man you had loved may have never stopped loving you back? 

“You blackmailed Joel Miller?” 

“Technically, it’s extortion.” 

It’s all there on the surface. Exposed between the two of you. Who Frankie really is. Cunning and competent. Devoted and dangerous. Possessive and powerful. 

“It worked, until he came to town for someone’s engagement party.” 

“When we saw him at the store?” Frankie nods. “And then you sent him the video we made.” 

“Hearing it from you seemed to do the trick. He knows you’re mine and you only want me.” 

Frankie gives you time to study him. Absorbing the information. The gleam in his dark eyes. The same eyes from when he would visit you at work. Just as fierce and just as earnest. 

You’ve always known him for his true self. He’s been yours since he first laid eyes on you. And he knew you needed him. 

“And you did it… for us.” 

“For you.” 

You can see it plainly on his face. He’d do it again and again to have you. Because you’re his. It’s all you ever wanted. It has to be wrong, but it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done for you. 

You push him back towards the bed, climbing onto his lap in a recreation of the first night you spent together. It’s reflexive. The magnetic pull between you has your hips rolling in his lap as he’s already hardening beneath you. 

“You’re sick,” you tell him before you lick a hot stripe up his neck. 

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls back before you’re crashing into him with a ravenous kiss.  

dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 tags for folks who seemed interested when i shared a lil wip about it (aka no worries tags)

@hoelaris @punkseyes @ace-turned-confused @magneticecstasy @lotusbxtch

@bitchesuntitled

@baronessvonglitter

@thundermartini @milla-frenchy

[soo0hee]

A Teachers Crush

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader

Summary — Falling for your coworker was never a good idea and it was no surprise that at one point things couldn't go on the way it was anymore...

Genre — fluff, angst, kindergarten!au

Warnings — kisses, some cursing

Word Count — 3.1k

Rating — pg-13

A/N — I got it done @tusswrites ! Have fun with teacher!hannie my luv✨️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Working with Yoon Jeonghan was delightful and a nightmare all at the same time.

For one, he was an amazing coworker. Reliable, loyal, funny, kind, helpful and so many more things you could name that would probably tale ages if you had to list them all.

He was wonderful with the kids you and him taught together and he was definitely one of their favorite teachers in the entire kindergarten! Watching him play with them left you feeling warm and fuzzy. Butterflies were flying wildly inside you’re your stomach every single time without fail.

On the other hand, you felt like your heart would explode if you stayed in his proximity for to long… What could you say? You were crushing hard on your coworker and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Handing you your favorite mug with little blue snowflakes covering the porcelain surface early in the morning send a small tired smile on your lips.

“Thank you.” You yawned, flipping mindlessly through the book you planned on reading with the kids later in the day.

“Is it time for The Gruffalo again, hm?” Jeonghan snickered at your sighes.

“Well unless you got something better planned for todays morning circle, then yes. It’s time for The Gruffalo.” You shrugged.

It was only 7:24 am, meaning the only teachers who were around were you and Jeonghan, at least for another half an hour and you were sure that the first kid would arrive soon. In fact, you could hear the happy babbling of the first boy with his mom in the hallway while hanging up his jacket and putting on his indoor shoes.

A little did you dread the encounter with the kids mom. Not because she was a rude person, no! But you knew that when this woman started talking, there was no way she would stop soon. Sometimes you really wondered how she got to work on time…

“Good morniiing, Miss y/n!” You almost jumped at the sudden voice of in front of you. You hadn’t even notice that the boy appeared in the group room until he stood right in front of you, waiting to greet you.

It was custom for you that once the kids were inside, they would greet you one by one so you knew that the child arrived and the child in return felt seen by you. It didn’t mean that it always worked, especially if there are a lot of kids arriving at the same time and someone slips past you into the room. But now you did notice.

“Good Morning, Chan! How do you want to say hello? Do you want to shake my hand, fist bump or high five?” you asked the boy who thought for a second about his options.

“High Five please!”

Holding up your hand so he could easily reach it you gave him a High Five and let him go to decide what he wanted to do next.

Chan walked to the small couch you had tucked away in a more quiet corner of the room where there were books on a shelf on the side and a well loved TonieBox with it’s storytime figurines. Soon the theme track of PawPatrol was heard as he calmly flipped through a book about the fire department. He did this every morning without fail, rather choosing to play by himself while waiting for the next kid to come that he could play with instead of playing a game with you or Jeonghan. Some kids simply had their routines they needed to follow to feel comfortable and that was fine with you. After all, you, Jeonghan and the other teachers did the same thing when arriving.

“Does he have his lunch in a box today, or will he be eating with us?” Jeonghan asked, standing behind you, now with his hand resting on your shoulder. It took a lot from you not to flinch in surprise, especially when you felt his thumb gently caressing the skin that wasn’t covered by your sweater.

Feeling significantly warmer by the second at his touch, you shut the book that was still open and set it aside for later.

“Channie has his lunch in his bagpack today and would it be possible to pick him up a bit eralier today? I know you have your pick up times bit we have a doctors appointment later today and it would be really stressful to be on time for that if I come later.”

You nodded. “Of course! Just ring the bell and someone will let you in then.”

The mother put her hands together as a thankful gesture and said goodbye to her son once more. Chan barely registered his mother talking to him as he was absorbed in the adventure of the firemen on his pages. He muttered a quiet, “Bye mommy!” without looking up and his mother was out the door just when as the next girl arrived and the entire spiel started anew.

However seeing the tears spill from Lily’s eyes at the prospect of having to let go of her dad you got up, missing the warmth of Jeonghans hand on you almost immediately, to approach them.

You wiped her tears with a tissue from the box to your left and held out your arms which she willingly fell into while hiding her face in your shoulder.

“She didn’t sleep that well tonight, so she’s a bit grouchy.” Her father sighed sadly.

“Oh, that’s okay. We all have nights like that, don’t we?” you coed at the girl in your arms while running your hand over her back to sooth her little sobs.

Lily nodded hesitantly but evidently calmer then just a moment before.

Knowing that his daughter was okay with you, he said goodbye eliciting a little whimper from the girl.

“Wanna wave…” She sniffeled loud enough so you and her father could hear her.

The famous “Waving Window” was something the kids loved to go to in the morning. It was a window that they could see their parents once more and wave to them while they walked out to their cars.

“Want me to come with you? Or do you want to wave alone?”

“With you...”

Her father nodded in understanding, told her goodbye and left you and Lily to go to the Waving Window.

Together you watched a woman walk by with her dogs, before pointing to the man waiting for his child to wave goodbye.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at the sight on the window. Lily was still snuggled into your side but now much calmer and conversing with you and another girl that had just come in about the dogs you had seen.

Ever since you had come to work with him few years ago, he had slowly gotten to know more about you and how you ticked.

To those you didn’t know and who didn’t know you, you could seem standoffish, quiet and desinterested in others, but not long into your partnership he found out just how delightful you really were. Soft, kind, funny, determined, loving. All words he would use to describe you and in quiet moments like this, it showed the most.

Free from the stress of the day you were able to take the time you needed with the girl to bond. Something that sometimes fell through with 25 kids per class who all needed or wanted your attention at the same time.

“Admiring your work wife again, huh?” Soyeon, the teacher from a different class came in and teased at witnessing his star struck face and the male felt his cheeks heat up.

“What? No! I was not-“

The woman raised her eyebrow and Jeonghan fell silent with a huff.

“Oh shut it.”

-----------

The day was surprisingly calm if you were being honest. With the cold weather the season brought with it, quite a few kids were sick and stayed at home and around lunch time, your group of 25 was reduced to 14 in total.

Calm.

While the kids ate their food with Jeonghan helping where he was needed, you went to the other room besides yours where you had a small library to put the book back where it belonged. The giant box on top of the shelf containing some paper you needed to prepare an activity for the next few days mocking you as it was to high for you to reach on your own.

“Jeonghan? Can you come over here?” You called and his face promptly appeared in view.

“Do you need something?”

“Yeah can you get the box down from there?” You pointed to the shelf, pouting that you couldn’t do it yourself.

The man laughed quietly and came in, dogging your weak slap to his shoulder.

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m not, I promise!”

Unimpressed you tilted your head.

“Just help me, you idiot.” You couldn’t stop the smile at his antics and stuck your tongue out at him.

Jeonghan came to a stop and your heart faltered when you realized that he was merely inches away from you, grabbing the box and took it down just to lean even closer.

“Here…”

The words suddenly seemed to be stuck in your throat and for a moment you were frozen as you felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin until-

“Are you going to kiss now?”

You jumped in shock. Riki, one of the older boys stood in the door giggling at the sight of his teachers being face to face like this.

Neither of you had noticed the door slowly closing behind the male teacher just like neither of you had noticed the boy opening it again.

“No!” you squeaked while Jeonghan almost dropped the box in his hands.

“Go back to your seat and eat, Riki Nishimura!” Your coworker rushed out, looking every bit as embarrassed as you felt.

Situations like this weren’t new, for neither of you. They happened all the time and at this point you should be used to it.

After all, for months your kids thought you and Jeonghan were married and it took a lot to convince them otherwise.

“But why aren’t you married?” Mari, one of the younger girls wanted to know, not understanding why you weren’t. You had stammered out a half hearted explanation which didn’t leave them satisfied but they also didn’t ask any further.

The worst however was when even the parents started making little comments here and there.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! Y-yeah, I’m good.” You swallowed and quickly left him standing there. Jeonghan stood there for a few moments longer. Rikis words had shifted something in him, something he had tried to bury deep down within him.

They echoed in his mind over and over again.

“Are you going to kiss now?”

No, but he wanted to.

And he had wanted to for so long already, he wasn’t quite sure when it had started.

Was it when he hot to know you? Or when he saw how much you loved what you did?

Or maybe when he realized just how much your eyes sparkled when he talked to you… how his heart sped up when he heard you laugh about something.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and back to reality. A reality where you had run from him…

---------

You felt awfull.

After having run out on Jeonghan you had done everything you could so you didn’t have to talk with. Way to embarrassed by the realizations that had been kick started. So much so, that you didn’t know how to act around him going forward.

You fell silent every time Jeonghan stepped into the room, avoided looking at him and only spoke to him when you absolutely had too.

It irked the man to no end to see you so quiet. Dull almost.

Want to meet up tonight? Go out for drinks with me, Soyeon, Nayeon and Shua? – received 5:34 pm

Staring down your phone you considered not answering his text. You had done so before and if you had then with short answers only.

The prospect of meeting in private after having avoided him for almost 2 weeks and you missed him. Kind of.

I’ll be there – sent 5:46 pm

The bar was just a few minutes away from your apartment by bus and you were determent to have some fun tonight even if you had to play the game of faces and after a few to many drinks you were sure you could get through the night without to much drama.

It was a fun evening, laughing at what Joshua said, Soyeons dad jokes and Nayeons playful flirting with the waiter. That was until you watched Jeonghan chat with the barkeeper a little to smiley when getting their drinks.

Your eyes were glued to the scene at the bar, not able to look away as you suddenly felt tears filling your eyes.

“I have to go.” You suddenly said, cutting of the conversations your fellow teachers had been having, still staring.

“What? Why? Can’t you stay a bit longer?” Nayeon whined at the prospect of having to let you go already. Joshua on the other hand followed your eyes and understood why you wanted to leave. They weren’t blind. None of the were and all of the had seen the switch in you flip to what ever was happening.

“Will you be safe?” he asked ever the gentleman to which you just nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Joshua helped you up, catching you when you stumbled a bit before wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug.

“Tell him, I promise I won’t go bad.”

“Goodbye Shua…”

With that you were out, walking to the bus station closest to the bar just as Jeonghan came back to the table.

It was cold, only wearing a thin leather jacket over your dress and shivering when you saw the little 11 on the display next to your bus number. You took a deep breath, filling your lung with the cold air cleared your mind and made it fuzzy all at once.

Having seen the barkeeper you knew you couldn’t compare to that. She was pretty, thin, big boobs and a beautiful face and if Jeonghan was as attracted to her as it had seemed like, then you were no match with someone like that.

You didn’t know if you could keep working like that if you had to watch Jeonghan be happy.

Happy with someone that wasn’t you.

“You’re leaving already?” Jeonghans voice startled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m tired. Ready for bed and all…” you hummed out, looking down at your feet and tightening the hold around yourself.

He slowly came to stand by your side. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Y/n, please talk to me… what happened to us?”

You swallowed harshly, continuing to avoid his stares.

“Nothing happened. We just didn’t have time to talk much recently.”

The man scoffed.

“We did have time, you just chose not have any and I want- no, I need to know why!”

Turning around to face him you found him staring right into your eyes. Your knees threatened to buckle underneath you.

“Just let it go, Jeonghan. I just want to go home!” you sighed. You weren’t in the mood to talk and you sure as hell weren’t in the mood t look at his soft eyes longer then you had to.

“Not until we talk. Your bus as still a few minutes away and I need to know… Is this about what Riki said? If what he said made you uncomfortable, then I’m sorry. He’s a kid, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not about that!” you said now a bit louder, catching the attention of the people around.

“Then what is it about? Because ei don’t get it! One day we could talk about every thing and the next you wouldn’t look at me. Is the though of kissing me that disgusting to you? Is that it?”

“No! It’s not and that is the problem!”

Shocked by your admission you stepped back, trying to get away as fast as possible.

“What?” Jeonghan stood there, eyes blown wide and looking every bit as beautiful as always.

“Just go back inside. I’m sure the others are waiting for you.”

“I won’t, because when if I heard that right- if I understand what you just said, right… then that would mean that-“

“-I would actually love to kiss you…”

Jeonghan bridged the distance with a few quick steps, cupped your face with his hands and huffed, “Good.” Before his lips crashed into your’s. He knocked the breath out of your lungs and you pulled back only an inch before staring back up at him and surging forward to meet him again.

His soft lips moved smoothly against yours desperate and loving all at once and you knew you didn’t want this moment to end. Hands around his neck, you pressed your body against his, felt his right hand wander to the back of your neck to firmly rest there and his left falling to your waist.

The bus arrived, let passenger in and drove off again.

You couldn’t care less.

You were in absolute bliss at the moment. Kissing the man you had longed for so long like your life depended on it until you had to stop to gasp for air. His nose brushing against yours and his lips merely an inch away from your own.

“I hope what ever doubt has been manifesting in your mind is now gone.” Jeonghan whispered earnestly and all you could do was stare.

“And I want you to know that I would love to kiss you again… until you’re so tired of it that you really will run from me.” The smile he gave you made your heart beat 3 times faster.

“Brave of you to think that will be the case.” You teased back followed by a wink.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ seunghan drabble : my dream ༉‧₊˚.

req: omg idk if reqs are open but I'm gonna send this anyway HEAR ME OUT a written fix with reader being seunghans close friend or something and a very cute fluffy hurt/comfort idol au where seunghan returns to riize (I'm delusional plz)

note: pls seunghan comeback. i miss rii7e

masterlist

You and Seunghan had known each other since high school, where you became very close. Both of you shared the dream of becoming idols someday, as you both loved dancing. For years, you attended dance academies until you each managed to join agencies, training hard for years. You debuted in a group a few months before him, but eventually, you both achieved the dream you had been chasing for so long.

You couldn’t be prouder of each other. It was also so much fun running into each other in the hallways during promotions and recording challenges together. But this happiness quickly faded when Seunghan was put on hiatus, and eventually, his image was erased from the group entirely.

You couldn’t understand it. Why were they doing this to him? Seunghan, who was kind and friendly to everyone. Who always had a smile on his face no matter the situation. You couldn’t stop thinking about everything he was going through, and even though you were busy with your group’s rehearsals and promotions, you always found time to visit Seunghan at his apartment, checking in on him and talking to distract him a bit.

The day you read the news that Seunghan had decided to leave the group, you ran to his apartment after practice, knocking on his door to talk to him. A few seconds later, he opened the door. You both sat on his couch, him with his head down, fully aware of what you were going to say.

"Is this really what you want, Seunghan? Is this what you want? Wasn’t this your dream?"

"I don’t want to keep hurting them..."

"You’re not hurting them, Seunghan. They’re your friends—you’ve told me that yourself. These past months you’ve worked so hard for them, and they’ve been there for you."

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices..."

"No, Seunghan, sometimes you have to be selfish. This is your dream. It’s been your dream for years, I’ve been by your side and seen how excited you always were... Why would you throw that away? You know there are so many people who support you, you know that..."

Seunghan listened in silence. He knew your words were true, but the situation was too complicated. Even though it had been his decision, he wasn’t sure if he had made the right one. It was true that this was his dream, but deep down, he was afraid of impacting his group, even though he knew they would support and protect him.

That night, you decided to stay with Seunghan because he needed you by his side. He had always been there for you during your worst moments, and you wouldn’t do any less for him. You tried to change the subject and distract him with other things, like watching videos together. From that day on, Seunghan promised you that he would think about what to do.

The following months were very tough for him, and for you too. Even though he seemed to be doing better with each passing day, you knew deep down that it was still affecting him and that he was still contemplating speaking up, sharing his feelings, and saying that he wanted to return to the group.

You couldn’t have been happier when one morning, one of your groupmates showed you the news: Seunghan was back in RIIZE.

Seunghan had decided to follow his dream, no matter what people said. He wanted to continue being an artist with RIIZE, and that decision was something incredibly important—something that made you so proud.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi @kukkurookkoo

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 5

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, zoomies and howls <3, humiliation, thoughts about escaping, murder, showing of female genitals, failed escape, attempt, manhandling, chocking (not the hot kind), slight identity crises, OC has shit parents, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 2.7K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

a/n 2: alright, listen, I’m really disappointed with auction myself. I thought I could tell short stories, but honestly, it all feels so rushed, unfinished, and shallow. I would’ve much rather fleshed it all out and made it flow better, but then the chs would’ve gotten way too long, which I didn’t want either, and now it’s all 💩 anywho, I hope you all still enjoy it lol

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

Today’s a day when you’re more bored than usual, not in a way that makes you moody, but in a way that, unfortunately, gives you the zoomies. You’ve been running around the penthouse for a straight hour now, using every elevated surface to jump on and off, hiding behind the curtains, and, shame on you, seeing how far you can nudge Jungkook’s sculptures before they topple off their stands.

You’re in your element, free, despite being still trapped here, when a tiny, beautiful red dot appears on the wall to your right. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes locking on it as your pupils dilate until there’s only black left. Wiggling your hips, you get ready to pounce on this lovely dot.

You charge at it, but it quickly darts from the wall to the floor and down the corridor, and you can’t help but zoom after it, desperately trying to catch it but always missing by just a hair’s breadth. The chase lasts a good few minutes—up and down the walls, over Jungkook’s couch, and back again—until it finally stops, and you think you’ve caught it, only to realise the dot’s not under your hands but on them.

“Huh?”

You move your hands away, only to quickly snatch at the dot again, only for it to still be on your hands, not under them.

Jungkook’s snicker snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you see him standing in the study, which you hadn’t even noticed you’d run into, holding a laser pointer in his tattooed hand.

You’re absolutely mortified, utterly humiliated and so, you straighten up immediately and storm out, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Jungkook definitely caught you having fun.

Later that day, you’re rather surprised that Jungkook doesn’t mention it, acting like nothing unusual happened as he enters his bedroom, just like every evening. But this time, instead of shamelessly stripping off his clothes, he stares you down with a thoughtful gaze.

You just stare back, not the least bit bothered or scared, knowing he’ll, like always, be the one to break and talk first.

“Get dolled up, I’m taking you with me tonight.”

“Ugh, but I don’t wanna,” you groan, flopping down onto the bed, arms stretched out like the whole thing belongs to you. Images of your heat still flash through your mind sometimes, especially in moments like this when Jungkook stands all dominant at the foot of the bed.

He never touched you, even though you fucked yourself on him more in those few days than you ever did during past heats. Not that you haven’t had a partner before, but Jungkook’s body hits different, like his physique was made just for you.

“Don’t care. I’m not going to clubs without you anymore.”

That makes you sit up, a little confused, wondering why he wouldn’t want to go without you, like he’s your loyal boyfriend or something. Maybe you could use this as a chance to slip through his fingers. Play unwilling for a bit longer, and he might not suspect anything.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Ugh, you’re not my dad.”

His face hardens at that, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just a sadness you can’t quite place.

“Please get up and get changed, okay?”

Wow, Jungkook asking nicely? That’s a first.

“Fine,” you huff, getting up and pretending to be all sass and pouty as you disappear into the bathroom. But as soon as the door closes behind you, a bright smile spreads across your face.

It’s loud in here. So utterly, overwhelmingly loud, you think your eardrums might burst at any minute. Jungkook’s currently guiding you through the crowd, not dragging you by the wrist like usual, but with his fingers intertwined with yours, carefully making sure you can follow as the crowd parts for him.

You’re relieved when you finally make it to a private room. The noise is still there, but bearable now. You’re not the least bit anxious to see his usual group of friends, ones you’ve met a few times after the poker night. 

Jungkook sits down on a couch where Yoongi’s already perched, and there’s enough space for you to sit beside him, but, like always, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap, his big hands cradling your middle as if it’s necessary to show everyone that you’re his, which you reckon is not. 

Then again, you might take that back, because while everyone greets you warmly, Jungkook being ignored, which makes you giggle and him growl under his breath.

You didn’t expect clubbing with Jungkook to look like this–sitting in a private room with his friends, drinking quietly. There are no strippers or other women around, which makes you wonder why he even wanted you here in the first place.

The conversation between them is lively, but you don’t join in, not because it isn’t interesting, but because you don’t fully understand it. Jungkook’s fingers drawing soothing circles on your stomach and thighs don’t help either, as you sink deeper into his embrace, a light purr escaping you, you can’t seem to hold back due to the liquor coursing through your bloodstream. 

It’s when Namjoon calls your name for the second time that you snap back to attention.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if there’s anything in this conversation that interests you.”

That’s your chance to mess with Jungkook, play on his instincts the way he played on yours earlier.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, dragging it out. “Well, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”

The men around you seem intrigued, leaning forward like they can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Even Jungkook shifts slightly under you, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I’ve always wondered if this really is triggering or not,” you say with a wicked grin. Taking a deep breath, you tip your head back for dramatic effect and let out a howl.

It’s nowhere near a real wolf’s howl–too high-pitched, too low–but you feel Jungkook tense underneath you, his fingers digging into your thighs, while the others barely hold back their laughter.

And then, it happens. Jungkook, unable to hold back any longer, throws his head back and howls with you. The room erupts in chaos, everyone laughing while you clutch your stomach, trying not to explode with laughter, as Jungkook howls uncontrollably.

You’re sure you hear other wolf hybrids answering his call from the dance floor, which only makes the laughter in the room louder.

When Jungkook finally finishes, he slumps back into the cushions, his eyes closed as if he regrets ever bringing you here.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Why? We’re having so much fun. Aren’t you having fun, love?” you tease.

His eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and suddenly, you fall silent. 

He never looked at you like that, like you were someone else, no longer having the privileges you once took for granted.

You don’t waste time standing up, Jungkook following suit. You can’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s gaze, don’t  even dare to say goodbye as you’re led out of the room by your wrist, the noise of the club grating on your ears.

Halfway through the crowd, some spider hybrid yells over the music, “Yo Jungkook, nice bitch you got there!” Jungkook releases your wrist for a moment, just long enough to pull out his glock and shoot the hybrid dead with a clean headshot.

Screams erupt and bodies start shifting in panic, but Jungkook’s hand is back around your wrist in seconds, dragging you out of the club in silence.

Once in his car, with him buckling you up and settling into the driver’s seat, you don’t need to look at him to know how furious he is. He drives like a maniac, halving the time it took to get there.

Soon you’re back at the penthouse and still unsure how to handle the situation. Apologising seems pointless.

“Bedroom,” Jungkook growls, and though you only gave him a taste of his own medicine, you know you’ve crossed a line you now wish you hadn’t.

But your own anger begins to boil again. Not just because of your own humiliation, but because he won’t let you leave.

You follow a seething Jungkook, your footsteps quick and angry, and when you enter the bedroom right behind him, you slam the door shut with a loud bang.

Jungkook turns, hands on his hips. “How dare you humiliate me in public?”

“Oh, fuck off, Jungkook. You humiliated me first.”

“We were alone! And we both had fun!” He barks, raising his hands as if that somehow makes his argument stronger.

“And those were just your friends!”

“Friends?! I trusted you!”

“It wasn’t that bad! Stop exaggerating.” You roll your eyes and move to head into the bathroom, but Jungkook’s having none of it. He strides towards you and tosses you onto the bed.

Still bouncing from the force, you mock him. “What’re you gonna do now, hm?”

“I’d like to fucking teach you a lesson.”

Fine, let him. You push your legs up, pull off your underwear, and spread your legs, showing your cunt to him as if ready to just get over with it. But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look down—just stares straight into your eyes. His gaze as hurt and defeated as yours.

“Come on, fuck me! What are you waiting for?!”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes drop briefly to the floor as he shakes his head. When he looks back at you, all the fight’s gone.

“I’m never going to fuck you like some bitch, kitten.” He sighs, then turns towards the door. “I’m taking the couch tonight.”

Today’s the day, you can feel it. You’ve been preparing for this for so long, playing the perfect little kitten Jungkook sees you as since your fight, that you’re sure he won’t suspect a thing. He’s been gone for two days now, leaving you alone at his penthouse with all his goons, but you don’t mind.

Honestly, it’s the best thing he could have done for you, so it’s now or never.

It’s just past midnight when you know that his guards and maids have gone to sleep, always leaving just Oliver behind. An ant hybrid, a rookie, who’s more incompetent in this world than you are, and that says a lot.

You reckon he’s fallen asleep in front of the CCTV screens, leaving you with an open door to freedom. Literally. 

Taking the elevator to the bottom floor isn’t an option, but the garage is the perfect place to start. You’ve scanned the cameras down there and covered the outside multiple times when Jungkook would often bring you with him, knowing where the possible blind spots might be.

And true to your assumptions, there’s no one you encounter—not a soul but your hurried footsteps echoing in the cold, wide parking lot.

You don’t really know how you’ll get hundreds of miles back home, but for now, you just need to get away. Ducking into the bushes right in front of the building, you try to make out how many goons are stationed by the entrance.

Spotting just two owl hybrids—which isn’t ideal but could be worse—you try to move silently through the bush, getting as close to the pavement as possible. Taking one more glance at the owls, you brace yourself to run, counting down in your head until you yank the leaves aside and sprint as fast as your feet can carry you across the street, into an alley you’d never normally go near.

At first, you’re not sure if you’re being followed, knowing that owl hybrids are far too quiet to hear, especially with your alarmingly fast heartbeat and panting drowning out all other noises. Still, you strain your cat ears, willing them to swivel backward, but again, there’s only silence.

You try to look behind you, but there’s no one—no one chasing after you—and it’s this distraction that makes you miss the rock in your path, your foot hitting it with a sharp thud as you roll over. You manage to stop the motion quickly, landing on one foot and your hands as you regain your balance and clarity.

It’s so odd that no one’s after you, especially when Jungkook’s such a possessive, obsessive freak. It doesn’t add up. It was just too easy.

Straightening up, you glance back down the alleyway where you came from. Still seeing no movement, you turn around—only to bump into a hard chest.

“Miss me?”

You try to turn and run again, but it’s no use. Jungkook is so much faster and stronger than you, reaching you in barely three steps.

“Let go of me!”

You thrash against his hold as if it would make any difference, but it doesn’t. He throws you over his shoulder like a doll and starts walking leisurely back to the building, as if it’s just another day.

“No can do, kitten.”

“Jungkook, I swear to god, put me the fuck down!”

You try to kick him in the stomach, but he just restrains your feet with his free hand. So hitting his back it is—but who are you kidding? It’s more of a massage for him than a beating.

“Or what?” Jungkook snickers, and you see red.

“Or I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

That makes him belt out a laugh you’ve never heard from him before—high-pitched and so beautiful that you’d fall in love with him in any other situation but this. His laughter is so intense that you bob uncontrollably on his shoulder, and there’s really nothing you can do but pout angrily, accepting defeat.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fucking loathe you.”

Jungkook just keeps snickering, snickering as he enters the building with everyone watching, snickering as he enters the elevator, nearly hitting your head on the closing doors, and snickering when he finally reaches his bedroom and gently sets you down.

However, his snickering stops when he sees your thunderous face, rage dripping from your eyes as your claws protrude over your crossed arms.

“I want to go home.”

“There’s no other home now but this one. Accept it.”

“Why don’t you just mark me and control me?! Huh?!”

“Because I know I don’t need to.”

But you see it differently and so you scream with all your might “Fucking let me leave, Jungkook!”

“No.”

At that, you charge at him, grabbing his throat and shoving him against the wall. You can’t keep living like this. You just can’t, not when your family and friends are desperately waiting for you to come back.

Jungkook doesn’t fight back, doesn’t defend himself. He just lets you strangle him, his arms hanging limp at his sides, eyes reddening from the pressure but still pleading for you to stop. It throws you for a loop because, frankly, his eyes—always soft, always showing every emotion he feels—have never betrayed his true intentions.

“Please don’t poison your soul by killing someone,” he croaks out, and that’s all it takes for you to push yourself away from him as if burnt.

Jungkook bends over, violent coughs escaping his reddened throat. You feel guilty, disgusted at what you’ve become, and you fear he’s changed you forever.

You collapse to your knees, utterly helpless as you try not to hyperventilate from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook, by now recovered but with a hoarse voice, kneels in front of you, taking your trembling hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. “I truly am.”

“For what?”

You turn your head upwards to look at him, to see if he’s telling the truth. You’re sure he is, because the hurt in his eyes mirrors your own.

“Because even if I gave you the world, I couldn’t let you go back to that joke of a family.”

“What?” The word leaves your lips in a breath, confusion growing with every second as Jungkook’s eyes turn more livid.

“You got kidnapped because your parents sold you off, kitten.”

“No…” You pull your hands from his, crawling backwards as if to escape the truth—the truth written all over his face. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I were, kitten.”

You wish he were too. 

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: taglist is sadly closed

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7

[chimimon]

Keeping Record

Medical AU - Higuruma x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive material! I genuinely cannot think of another tag so I apologize if my air headed-ness missed something major… (-｡-;

& what I have to say is… “Are you writing a fic about that man with that whole beak-” YEAH AND? THAT BEAK PRETTY! If he’s a bird, I’m a bird!? RAH-AH RAH-AH

You have reached the voicemail box of Hiromi Higuruma. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Beep

You hung up the call and stared at your screen. Legal firms of any kind were a pain to deal with, but this one was pushing all the right buttons.

You have reached-

“Okay...” Disappointed? Sure, you were. But never surprised. “No this is great, I’m sure they don’t even want these records.”

A medical assistant slid behind, looking at the medical record request alongside you, scanning it for a date of birth and the dates of service.

“I’m not blind, am I?” The copies were at your nose. Then you examined them at your keyboard, holding it as far down as you could to get another look.

“Hmm. Are they asking if they can release their records to us…?”

“Right?”

They laughed on the way out of your office, visiting your printer to make a colored copy of something. It was small and dim, but you liked to think of it as cozy. Some days it felt more like a closet and even more so now that one of two flat panel light fixtures began to flicker. At this point you were waiting for it to die before asking to have it replaced, because that was the only way they would replace it.

The medical world was fun... sometimes. The workday for medical assistants and nurses heavily depended on the doctors’ attitude, followed by the patient's attitude. But being on the back end of things made it so more people could make or break your shift. Seniority and an excellent work reputation meant you got to train new hires if their leads weren’t in, double check most of the outgoing paperwork, and do all the “fun” insurance things. With that, it wasn’t long before one of the receptionists walked back to grab you.

“Sorry,” they knocked on your open door. “I have someone here asking to speak with medical records?” They were new, and visibly stressed.

“Hey,” you cordially smiled. “You’re good, did they give you a name?”

They made a face and shook their head, “I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask.”

“No, no you’re good.” You reassured them.

When training or speaking to new hires, you did so with empathy. Going to school only meant so much, nothing really prepared you for how differently each clinic ran. You tried so hard to give them the patience and understanding that you never got.

“Just let him know I’ll call them back in second and get their name before you have him sit down.”

They looked relieved with your laxed attitude before running back to the front. After a few minutes you joined them again and were handed a sticky note with a name.

“Higuruma?” You called out to the waiting room.

A dark-haired man, with a slight tan and a brief case stood up. He nodded on his way over. You introduced yourself before leading him back to your office. As you walked pass the nurses station, you nodded, and watched their eyes dart to the man following behind you. It wasn’t often that anyone followed you back anywhere. If it wasn’t a nurse or doctor at your door, it was a patient accompanied by a nurse.

The legal request for records was neatly placed beside your keyboard. You pulled up a chair beside yours, and motioned him to sit.

Higuruma looked as serious as you pictured most lawyers did. It was like playing bingo when you looked at him. Black suit and tie? Check. Briefcase? Check. Polished and shiny dress shoes? Check. The tired look in his eyes and slick back hairdo, which was escaping whatever gel product he used, was like the free space in the middle of the card.

“How can I help you today, Mr. Higuruma?”

“I was asked to visit your clinic to inquire about the subpoena.” Polite and straight to the point, you thought.

“Yes, I apologize in advance, but I have been trying to get ahold of your firm. Can I confirm some contact information with you?”

With the call history on your computer, and the request beside it, Higuruma could immediately see why you were trying to contact them, and just how often you tried to. He apologized for the discrepancy and asked if there was anything else you needed.

“Ah, yeah. So, the doctor your client saw, they’re not comfortable signing anything unless they can speak with someone.”

Higuruma smiled with his brows raised. “I can speak with the doctor today if they have the time.”

You made a face that let him know they weren’t in clinic. “Can we schedule a time they can call? Well, actually it might be best if you come back.”

When it came to legal things or insurances, you mentally prepared for attitude when you couldn’t immediately give the representative what they wanted.

“That’s fine. When will they back in?”

What a relief.

Higuruma offered to provide lunch and set the date for that following Thursday an hour before noon.

“Oh, and before I go,” He paused to unlock his phone “I’m going to give you my personal number. I don’t want to ignorantly disregard your clinic’s needs. But I’m going to ask that my number does not go to anyone else, and that it only stays with you.”

With a nod, you exchanged phones and contact information.

“Hiromi Higuruma,” you read aloud to yourself upon the trade back.

He smiled again as you looked up.

“Oh, sorry.” You cut out his first name on his contact, reading aloud “Mr. Higu-ru-ma…” in a softer voice.

“Hiromi is fine,” the lawyer tone dropped. “The whole ‘Mister’ thing makes me feel old.” He chuckled.

“Oh- okay, Hiromi.” You smiled, scanning him again before offering to guide him out.

With the door leading to the waiting room propped open, he promised to speak with whoever faxed the original form and to bring a new, corrected one on Thursday. When the automatic sliding entry doors closed, the second desk girl looked to you before giggling.

“What?”

“Do you think he’s cute?”

You looked up thoughtfully and then shrugged.

“He looked a lot happier then when he came in.” she sang sweetly.

The newbie that originally grabbed you spoke up. “Yeah. He was smiling just now, and I was kinda worried about how he was gonna treat you back there.”

“And you gave me no warning?” You teased.

The two sheepishly smiled before someone approached their desk. You took it as your sign to leave and return to your desk.

—

The morning before the meeting, Higurumi texted asking what he’ll be picking up for lunch.

You – “Sandwiches are safe.”

Himori – “Allergies?”

You – “Peanuts for the doctor in question.”

Hiromi – “Noted. Anything they or you prefer?”

You really thought about the doctor, and then your manager who would be present, and shook your head.

You – “I’m not even going to guess. I’ll send you their orders in a second.”

Twenty minutes later he received their orders and reconfirmed the dates. You wondered if he was wearing the same black suit, or if his hair was getting loose again.

—

The lunch was embarrassing. Higuruma kept having to repeat himself to the doctor, who in turn kept interrupting him before he could finish saying anything, and your manager didn’t do anything to help. They were just blankly staring and smiling, alternating the combo between the doctor, the lawyer, and yourself. Right before you could thank Higuruma on behalf of the small four-person luncheon, both your team mates had something to say.

“You know as much as I appreciate Mr. Higuruma being here today, I just have no idea why I’m here. Why you didn’t have Legal come in?” Your manager stared at you, and then at Higuruma. “And the request is a few weeks old, which I apologize for, but I mean what have you been doing back there?”

You froze without any idea why this couldn’t wait until the lawyer left. “Well, when I asked Legal, they said this was something you could look over and-”

“When?”

You blinked slowly. “When I set the date with Mr. Higuruma.”

“I mean it’s a silly record request.” The doctor chimed in. “It seems to me if you just read the forms, and worded things better, maybe I would’ve understood and been more than happy to sign sooner.”

All you could do was stare, as they blamed their stupidity on you.

Higuruma seemed taken aback and annoyed. What was worse was you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or them. But the ordeal wouldn’t end if you tried to fight them on this, so you surrendered like most people do and apologized to the room. “I don’t mean to waste yours, or my own teams time.” You bowed to Higuruma from across the table, ignoring the theatrically loud sigh that just left your manager.

When you looked up, Higuruma seemed confused as he bowed back. “No, the mistake started on my end. Really this whole ordeal is on my firm.” He stood up now to shake your manager’s and doctor's hand. “I apologize for inadvertently dragging this simple request out for your clinic, staff and my own client.” He bowed again.

“This isn’t on you pal,” the doctor patted his shoulder as he left the break room.

You felt too sick to finish your food and got up to put whatever you couldn’t stomach in the fridge. “Oh, and uh,” your manager peeped their head back into the breakroom. “Make sure the man gets his records before he leaves, m’kay?” You nodded with the most professionally pissed off smile before grabbing a water bottle and leading Higuruma back to your office.

The clacking of keys seemed louder than normal, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything until you hit print. “There are quite a few pages, so it might be a while. I can bring it to your office since your firm is fairly close.”

“Today?”

“Yes...”

“On your own? Are they going to make you drive yourself?”

“Yeah?” You didn’t know where he was going with this.

“They reimburse for gas, right?”

You looked at the clock, it was 12:30, but you knew your manager was going to find a way to make sure you don’t get paid for what they believe is your screw up. They might even try to say you got a long lunch so it was only fair.

“They should.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

Higuruma thought about it, then got comfortable beside you with his briefcase on the table and his legs widely crossed. “I’m okay to wait.” He pulled out a laptop. “If that’s okay with you.”

You nodded before going back to your computer.

Page 045/462 is printing…

Higuruma kept his distance but you could see his forearms from the corner of your eye.

When did he take off his suit jacket?

Then your gaze fell to his lap, another pair of black suit pants, but you could see the feint lines that made them corduroy.

“You’re only ten minutes from our clinic. Are you sure?”

Higuruma nodded with his chin on his fist. He hadn’t looked at you but you were now tracing his profile with your gaze. He still looked tired and laxed. Something about his demeanor and suit was doing messing to your line of thought. You tilted your head and thought to make small talk while you had him. Then you stopped after remembering he looked tired, and might only want to respond to yes or no questions.

Page 176/462 is printing…

The printer was warming the cramped space and your cardigan had to come off. After placing it on your chair you made it to the window. “May I?” You looked over your shoulder. He nodded again but did not turn away when you had to open the window. The way you stood on your tippy toes, without the cardigan, made it so your scrub top hugged your waist with a little drama. He consciously turned away before you caught him.

Page 176/462 is printing…

At your desk, you recalled that he hadn’t ate while you four talked, so you opened a drawer and grabbed out one of those too-sweet-to-be-healthy granola bars. “Sorry, this is all I got.”

The bar slid over to him and Higuruma thanked you before immediately tearing into it. His apparent hunger made you feel guilty for not trying to harder convince him to leave. “I can grab you some lunch, you know, for keeping you here.”

He laughed before turning to face you. “Everything was on me, so don’t worry about it. Besides, I think there are a couple more things I can apologize for. You know, after that.”

“Pardon?”

“Doctors and higher ups in medical can get a little jaded, so I’ve noticed.” He folded his arms and you were immediately staring at them.

“They mean well.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of it.

“Oh, I’m sure they do.” He shook his head. “I’m sure that’s why I have to defend them most the time.”

You smiled at his understanding. You felt less embarrassed about luncheon and lifted your brows. “My offer on lunch still stands.”

He looked up at the ceiling and noticed the flickering light. “That’s nice, but all I’d want from you is to join me. I’d like to pay.” He grinned.

“Can you just do that?” You thought he meant with a company card.

“With my card and on my lunch, yeah I can.”

“Oh, you don’t have to make time in between work for me.”

“Well…” he uncrossed his legs and leaned in. “I guess lunch can be kinda hard for me, so how about we do dinner instead?” It wasn’t clear when he started flirting but that made your stomach drop.

Page 387/462 is printing…

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Not while I’m on business. But can I properly ask when I’m off the clock.” He cheekily smiled.

Your print job is completed

You handed Higuruma a fresh stack of warm paper, and again walked him out. “I’ll message you around 6,” he said too close to front desk.

You didn’t notice those two were grinning past your own anxious excitement.

—

The following Thursday rolled around, and just as you were headed to the bathroom to get changed, a doctor dropped a stack of papers on your desk.

“What’s this?”

“Prior authorizations. I need these done before Friday morning.”

“This Friday or next?”

“This Friday. Please.”

“Where did your assistant go?” You leaned back looking past the doctor and out your door. No one at the nurse's station.

“It’s just you, but even then, he’s been looking forward to some date he’s got tonight, so...”

Nice. Super nice.

“Got it.” You said flatly, unwilling to hide the tinge of annoyance in your tone.

You called Higuruma to cancel. He insisted on bringing something over and lied about making a big reservation after you offered to cover any fees for it.

“Just name your favorite spot, or better yet I can wait for you to finish.”

“Higuruma this is going to take a second, you don’t have to do that.” The stack of papers looked daunting, but after flipping through it was just three procedures with a lot of notes to fax.

“I want to.” He hummed

“Well, I can open the door for you if you come through the back.”

“Can you do that for me?”

“Strangely enough, yes I can.”

“Okay,” He sighed with relief. “I’ll see you in 20.”

As soon as he hung up you locked your office door to get changed. It felt a little silly but if you were going to have a date in your office, you were going to be dressed up for it.

Five minutes passed and it felt like an hour. The hold music was nothing short of goofy, and you were looking forward to seeing him. You wondered what he was wearing, if he was going to be in a suit or if suits felt like a work uniform to him and would dress down when getting dressed up. Then you wondered what dressing down meant, if it was another button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, grey slacks or if he would wear a more relaxed pleated pair of pants. What kind of belt would he wear? Would his shirt button be undone? If so, how many?

An insurance agent cut through your train of thought, and the first prior auth was complete. You checked your phone and saw that Higuruma was on his way but that text was sent twenty minutes ago and now you were feeling nervous. In the middle of being on hold for the second company, Higuruma called saying that he was there.

You ran back, opened the door, walked him back, and forgot the hold music was on speaker.

“Interesting song choice.” He teased.

“I- no wait.” You took the phone off speaker and nervously chuckled before the second agent answered. With one more left you dialed the last insurance line and began to press all the options. While on hold you pushed out your hand with a pinky extended. “You’ve gotta promise me something.” You felt self-conscious of the blatant disregard to health privacy laws switch your date in the room.

“Pinky promises?” He raised a brow.

“You have to promise to pretend this is work related if anyone from the clinic calls to ask why you were here, and that you don’t repeat anything I say to the agent.”

Higuruma snorted and nodded. He kissed his thumb, extended his pinky, and locked it with yours. “Seal it with a kiss.” he toyed. Although it felt silly, you did as he said and it filled your stomach with butterflies.

This last Insurance company was taking their sweet time answering. You put the hold music back on speaker and reached out for your plate of food. You slid closer to him, thanking him for dinner before the first bite.

“So,” You immediately caught his attention. “Is our pinky promise legally binding then?”

“Well, it’s technically me giving you my word, so yes.” Smiling at his fork he said “It is for me.”

His sleeves were rolled up again, but he was wearing a form fitted black mock neck, with a pair of olive-green pleated pants. As he ate, you eyed his wrist watch, and thought it had to be white gold. But even more eye catching than his watch were subtle but protruding veins that lined from his wrist to his pushed sleeve. Higuruma noticed your gaze.

“You like what you see?” He murmured.

“Do I like what-? Oh!” The music stopped and you quickly grabbed the phone to finish the last prior auth.

Higuruma took this opportunity to get an eyeful of his date. You were wearing a black satin dress that had been showing off your legs since you sat down. Before you took the call, when you had faced each other, Higuruma’s attention had been caught by the cowl neck of the dress but he only allowed himself to look for a second. You just looked too tempting to just be taking a call. To be in an office alone with him. As you were finishing up, Higuruma snuck up behind you, with his hand landed on yours as your cursor hovering over the end call button.

“No that’s all. You too. No, no thank you.” Before the agent could wish you a good night, Higuruma hung up the call. You turned around in your chair stunned that he was also towered over you. “What if I wasn’t finished?”

“Were you not?”

“Mr. Higuruma, are all lawyers as cocky as you are? Or as flirty?” If you could call what you were feeling butterflies, there were a roost and they were moving up your chest. Your eyes moved from his down to the arms that trapped you in. As you stood up, he moved back. “Hiromi?”

He folded his arms again and leaned against a shelf behind him. “Not that I know of.” Higuruma hid his mouth behind his palm, closed his eyes and sighed. “I apologize, but-” A dress shouldn’t be able to do that much, he thought. No, it was a scrub top, or maybe it was just you? “I promise I’m usually more composed.”

If it wasn’t for you playing with the slit on the thigh of your dress, he would’ve never noticed that little detail. “You are?”

Higuruma dropped his arms and approached you. “May I?”

You nodded.

As he began to slowly and softly entangled you in a kiss you kept pulling back, forcing him to follow you against the edge of your desk. You kept leaning back, sensing him trapping you between his arms as he leaned on the table.

“Sweetheart,” hot breath tickled your lower lip. “Let me close, please?” His dilated eyes pleaded alongside his voice. But his hands seemed to be a little less polite as they grabbed you by your hips, lifting you onto your desk while holding you still. When he felt like you were trying to move back again his hand quickly switched positions.

Composed was a funny thing to be with one hand on your bare thigh, the other keeping you still while he licked your bottom lip.

Higuruma’a neck guided every kiss and if his hair had been intact when he came in, it for certain was not now. The smooth pomade coated your fingers as you combed through. Occasionally you would tug forward, pushing him back in an attempt to catch your breath. The lack of air in his all-consuming kiss made you dizzy, and overly aware of your heart racing, pounding in your head as his tongue tasted yours.

The crease in between your thigh and hip felt the dull office air as Higuruma’s hand ran further up completely exposing your leg. That same hand trailed down your thigh to push you open at the knee, while his other hand snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him. After you wrapped your legs around his waist, you finally pulled away from his kiss to dive into his neck. You kissed up to his cheek, quickly pecked him, and then dipped back down to suck the skin near his collar bone. The pressure made him groan.

“Hiromi,” you sang against his neck.

Higuruma looked too dazed to realize he had lifted you off the table in the heat of the moment and was holding you in his arms. “Where’s your composure Hiromi?”

Visible warmth spread across his face as he came back from reality. Higuruma let you down. But he let his hand slide up your side and back down your arm to hold your hand. He kissed your knuckle and laughed. “And yours?”

At some point one of the panel lights went out within his indulgence, and you had not clocked out, so you quickly clicked around, logged out, and grabbed your bag.

“Let me take you home.” Higurumi was fixing his hair and lifting his collar. He also shamelessly watched as you fixed your dress, grinning.

© 2024 chimimon

[styx142]

Okay so like, I've been thinking about an Adventure Time teacher AU and why does it work weirdly well???

Here's the current staff list

Finn: Gym coach who's currently also working as a math teacher due to a shortage of staff and the previous one (Billy maybe?) quitting. He's absolute shit at math but he's super excited about it all the time so the students love him anyway.

Jake: At first I was thinking gym coach too, but I feel like he'd be a great counselor honestly. He's constantly advising his brother and I think he'd work well

BMO: The computer teacher! Kinda obvious but yeah

Neptr: Robotics/engineering teacher. Due to the nature of their jobs, BMO and Neptr work pretty closely together. Neptr loves this, BMO not as much.

Princess Bubblegum: The science teacher who is kind of running the place at times, because the principal won't do anything so she's decided to do what she can to keep this place running smoothly.

Marceline: The band director. She is 100% playing pranks on her students all the time. Also whenever the band is practicing she is standing on her band tower with a little umbrella or something for sun protection.

LSP: Drama teacher. Kinda obvious, she's already directed a play in the show so she works well as a drama teacher.

Simon/Ice King: History teacher! I got the idea from my AP world history teacher whose classroom is packed full of artifacts and replicas from different cultures throughout the world. Figured it'd be fitting for Simon

Flame Princess: English teacher. My whole thought proccess was "freestyle rap. Creative. Poetry. English?" and I think it works well. Her dad was the previous English teacher who left to open a chipmunk sanctuary.

Lady Rainicorn: I was thinking either art or Korean, leaning more towards Korean simply because I have another idea for the art teacher.

Jermaine: Art teacher!

Lemongrab: Psychology. This man has such a weird brain that I think it'd be fun to have him teach this. I can imagine him writing office referrals that just say "UNACCEPTABLE" on them

Fern: The new math teacher who shows up halfway through the year and has to deal with all the students complaining about missing Mr. Mertens.

Betty: Another character who shows up sometime later during the year. She'll be our principal, taking over for the previous principal who quit mysteriously.

Prismo: Vice principal, kinda bad at it and doesn't know how he got the job

Scarab: an admin who was hoping for vice principal and was really pissed when Prismo got the job instead of him

Golb: The principal

The lich: Previous vice principal who was fired for unknown reasons. Fired at the same time Billy quit.

Peppermint butler: I can't decide whether I want him as a student or as a secretary or just as someone who works in the office

I think I'll have all the candy citizens as students, as well as probably some minor characters who get a few appearances or only one episode.

This is partially why I originally wanted PB as the principal, but I found it funnier to have her as the teacher who is going insane because Golb will not do shit for the school.

I'm considering turning this whole thing into a fic, possibly focusing on PB? Possibly a bubbline fic? Not sure quite yet, this AU is still very much in development

[forthegothicheroine]

@batmanisagatewaydrug set up a fun Book Bingo for 2025, and want to try and do it!

This planned list of books for me to read is extremely subject to change, especially since I always get a lot of books as holiday presents, but here's the plan as of this moment.

Literary Fiction: The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. My mother got me a bunch of Steinbeck for my birthday, since I liked Cannery Row, so let's see if I can do now what I couldn't in high school!

Short Story Collection: The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. Another author I don't know super well but who has written at least some things I like.

A Sequel: Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck. Like I said, my mom got me a bunch of Steinbeck and I like Cannery Row, so I'll try the sequel.

Childhood Favorite: A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. I read and loved three quarters of this as a kid- but I had to stop before what I knew would be the grim finish, where Twain's depression took hold. It's time I see it through.

20th Century Speculative Fiction: Anno Dracula by Kim Newman. I've come around on Newman, so I should finally try his Bad End Dracula AU.

Fantasy: Fool by Christopher Moore. I keep seeing this when I shelve things at the library and thinking 'I should get that out sometime' so let's make it sometime!

Published before 1950: Beowulf, translated by Burton Raffel. I loved the children's book Bea Wolf, and it gave me the urge I needed to find a good translation of the original.

Independent Publisher: Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng. Gothic? Fairies? Dark historical fiction? Amazing cover? Sounds great.

Graphic Novel: Be Very Afraid of Kanako Inuki by Kanako Inuki. Another great cover that's already making me very afraid!

Animal on the Cover: Earthlings by Sayaka Murata. I loved Convenience Store Woman and this has a cute hedgehog on the cover, and that's all I need to know.

Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist. One of the books that's been on my tbr for the longest time, and I loved both film adaptations.

Science Fiction: Finna by Nino Cipri. I'm always down to read about genre-shifting trips through alternate dimensions.

2025 Debut Author: You are Fatally Invited by Ande Pliego. I have a weakness for riffs on And Then There Were None, plus this seems like the kind of book my library will order.

Memoir: The Complete Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. I started this at someone's house and never finished it, so now is the time.

Read and Make a Zine: Archive.org has a bunch of issues of a Twin Peaks fanzine called Wrapped in Plastic, which I'm looking forward to browsing through! I hope it will give me ideas for what to create!

Essay Collection: The Collected Schizophrenias by Esmé Weijun Wang. Not much to say about this except that it sounds really fascinating.

2024 Award Winner: Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. This won the Alex Award (for adult books with good YA crossover appeal) and I've been curious about it since I worked at a bookstore and put in the order.

Nonfiction: The Madman's Library: The Strangest Books, Manuscripts and Other Literary Curiosities from History by Edward Brooke-Hitching. I would indeed like to learn about those books! Because I missed the "learn something new" part, I will read The Feud: the Hatfields & McCoys by Dean King.

Social Justice & Activism: Beyond Survival: Strategies and Stories from the Transformative Justice Movement by Ejeris Dixon and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. This has been recommended to me as a good starting point to learn about transformative and restorative justice, something I would like to understand better.

Romance Novel: Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt. Duke of Desire was great, so I'm eager for some more of that!

Read and Make a Recipe: I'm hoping to find something good from the Moosewood Cookbook, I need to learn more good vegetarian meals.

Horror: Diavola by Jennifer Marie Thorne. More gothics, and as always, I'm late to a book everyone else always loves!

Published in the Aughts: Great Granny Webster by Caroline Blackwood. Another book I always see on the shelves and always mean to get out next time when I'm not in the middle of something!

Historical Fiction: The Keep by F. Paul Wilson. Historical horror (with Jewish characters) is one of my favorite genres.

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: Poison Widows: A True Story of Witchcraft, Arsenic, and Murder by George Cooper. This was on the library website of recommended Philadelphia-set books, so I'll happily give it a try.

[disgruntledkittenface]

Hi Maggie! I have a question (or few lol) on your personal opinion/experience, if you're willing to share. I have been reading fic for...a very long time lol but I have never read any abo. Based on some self-reflection I think it's that I just don't know how it works so I think I won't understand the fic or will miss important nuances. But I just read the description of your accidental courting fic and it sounds super cute! And I'm reminded of all the times I've read a fic description and was interested, then realized it was abo so I didn't read it (which feels so embarrassing to say!). I know my apprehension is likely keeping me from experiencing something I might really enjoy. And so my question is, what about abo fics do you think you cannot find in other fics? Or put another way, what do you like about abo fics in general? Also how did you get into writing them?

hiii anon! First, thank you for saying that the accidental courting au sounds cute! (I think it is, but I wrote it lol) And it's fun to get an opportunity to talk about this trope, which I'm going to refer to as omegaverse, I'm glad you asked <3

I'm going to link a primer that @allwaswell16 wrote because it covers the basics really well and includes links for further reading. That said, the trope can get very subjective and there are still things I don't understand fully. Like it gets a little hazy when I think about scenting glands, and I hope @crinkle-eyed-boo won't mind me saying so, but neither of can actually visually a nest. So I get your apprehension, but I don't think you need to know all the details to enjoy the trope.

The thing about omegaverse is that sometimes it can feel like a way to make a gay couple straight. When I get that vibe from a fic, I just close the tab. But I was talking about this with @lululawrence years ago, and she was explaining that there are writers who use omegaverse to explore dynamics similar to men/women because that lets them do it at a little bit of a distance. And I understand that – as a writer, sometimes I want to explore something with a female character because I identify as female, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I want that distance.

I think what appeals to me about omegaverse is that it's kind of primal. Sometimes I'm in the mood for instincts to just take over! It's kind of like a soulmate au in that way, almost like an external force guiding two characters if that makes sense.

I hope this isn't obnoxious but since we're talking, I decided to just go through each omegaverse fic I've written (only 6!)

For a long time, I didn't plan on writing omegaverse. But then I saw a few prompts for a fest that were clearly submitted by the same person, and it was just so sweet because they all ended with "please." The one I picked said "A soft Narry where Harry is alpha and Niall is omega, please." so I got to anything I wanted with it. I thought about doing something with Niall modeling Omega watches because I thought that was hilarious, but there was something at the back of my head telling me this Harry would be ace. So I decided to explore that a bit and I centered it around touch deprivation because sometimes I feel a little touch deprived. a little tenderness

Then for some reason, I got really into the idea of an alpha building a nest for their omega. And I had this little snippet of a scene in my head with one partner saying "you've been so sad lately" and the other one not wanting to admit why, but they already know. So those two ideas kind of morphed, and then I wrote a couple of other scenes that just like INTRIGUED me so I could get them out of my head. with love on the line

I saw a prompt about accidental courting, and then decided to actually try writing it after a friend encouraged me. I struggled to get going because originally I wanted Harry not to realize he even had a crush on Louis, and the characters simply would not cooperate. So he could only be oblivious about the courting rituals, not the crush. I want to say this is the most, like, stereotypical omegaverse that I've written? But it still starts with alpha Harry baking. baby, you're the end of june

I do not remember why, but at some point I got really interested in how girl direction omegaverse would work. I went looking on tumblr and online, and found a couple of references. So originally I wanted to explore the mechanics. But it became really, really personal while I was writing! I did not mean for that to happen! But I love how this one turned out. enough to make a girl blush

THEN I was like... but what about two female alphas? I don't know if the scents in this one quite work, they did in my head. But after this one, I felt like I kind of got f/f omegaverse out of my head because I had figured it out. when we're finished saying nothing

Although then I decided to do a cute followup on a side pairing from enough to make a girl blush for a fest. count me in

WAIT OKAY I'M SEEING A PATTERN. TWO PATTERNS.

CARETAKING – I think that I like seeing one partner taking care of the other in omegaverse (although I probably like that in all tropes)

And honestly, I just like trying new things.

So for me, I do like the unique aspect of the instincts and primal nature in omegaverse, but it's also just kind of a fun playground because you can do so many things.

I hope this wasn't too long! And listen, I know people who love omegaverse and people who won't read or write it, so there's no wrong way to fandom <3

[recurring-polynya]

Hi! I want to start off with saying I love your blog and it was this blog that introduced me to a new side of the Bleach fandom, so I owe you a huge thanks for that. My question pretains to when you mentioned that you read a lot of fics where Byakuya was there when his father died in the lines of duty, and I was wondering if you could recommend those fics and any other byakuya centric ones.

You're very welcome! I am always excited see new people in the fandom, especially here on Tumblr.

I want to preface this with saying that I have kind of a complicated relationship with Byakuya. He is an interesting, complex character and I like to read fanfic about him, but I hesitate to call myself a fan. I'm mostly interested in his character as it stands in relation to Rukia and Renji. I like stories where he is shitty and causes problems. I like reading about the long, horrible history of the Kuchiki clan, and how much it screws a person up to be raised in that mess. I also just like stories that make fun of him a bit. He's a deeply strange person, and I love his weird, dry sense of humor. Byakuya-shipping usually falls flat for me: I think he's mostly ace, except for the time he fell in love with his wife, and even then, I only really like Byahisa stories where the author has done something creative with who she is and I also need her to drag his ass a little. I would swipe left on him. So, anyway, take these recommendations (and the absence of ones I have missed) with that grain of salt.

The fanfic I was specifically referring to regarding Soujun dying after a mission he and Byakuya were on together was the Rise & Ruin series by @afinepiece, specifically part 2, An Education. It's a...little-bit-AUish precanon fic where Hisana is a thief who ends up getting tangled up in the Kuchiki family after she attempts to steal a painting from them. If you're looking for Byakuya fanfic, AFP is always going to be my first recommendation, especially her Thin Red Line series. Her works are always sprawling and genre-defying, but beautifully crafted. They've got noble/family drama, intricate world-building detail, and great character writing. The Kuchiki family deserves epics, and that is what AFP is out here doing.

Funnily enough, my other favorite ByaHisa writer is all the way at the other end of the writing spectrum. @thegreenfaery. She works in the AU space, and if you enjoy Byakuya Going Thru It but also being in love with his beautiful wife. I'm biased, because she wrote it for me, but The Wedding Party is my fave of her works (80's/everyone's human AU where Hisana has to rent out part of Byakuya's house for her little sister's dirtbag wedding).

If you like Byakuya in his gothic horror era, please read dogviolet by @renjirukia. It's a closer examination of some canon between-scenes during Byakuya and Rukia's Bad Times period.

I think @lucymonster is one of the best Byakuya character writers out there, and Metaesthesia is one of the best fanfics I've ever read. It's a Byakuya - Renji bodyswap, but not in a fun way. You should really only read it if you're in the mood to have your heart kicked down the stairs. I also really like Sticks and Stones and Building Bridges. Note: Most of her works are ByaRen (these are not, at least not explicitly). That's not a ship I am normally fond of, but I get, like 3 weird days a year where I can read it.

Speaking of ByaRen, if you are into it, the other ByaRen writer I like a lot is @grizmelder, who is also a very nice person. I particularly enjoyed Heart Tangled, which is a historical AU set at the end of the samurai era, where Renji is Byakuya's bodyguard.

I was just talking about Lull the other day, but it's a lovely little fanfic by Branch about the relationship between Byakuya and Rukia and sometimes Renji. It's an older fanfic and breaks off from canon after the Soul Society arc, so you can think of it as sort of an alternate idea for how Soul Society rebuilds after Aizen's betrayal.

The Journal of Kuchiki Byakuya by @saranel is a great little fic in the form of young Byakuya writing diary entries about his life, in particular, his dealings with Yoruichi and Urahara. It's really cute in general, but in particular, I love the way it portrays Byakuya's interest in photography.

I also have a soft spot for Breaking to Bridle by Vivienne Grainger, which is about how Byakuya sees Renji, both as lieutenant and eventually as suitor for his sister.

I guess I would be remiss if I didn't mention my favorite crack Byakuya fic, which is Become a Ghost by @hardlyfatal. Orihime dies and goes to Soul Society and becomes a therapist and falls in love with Byakuya. It's pretty silly but also a lot of fun, and it's chock full of Byakuya being Byakuya.

I hope you find something you like in there! Like I said, I am not the world's best Byakuya fan (probably in the top ten worst Byakuya fans tbh) but these are some that I have enjoyed and have stuck with me!

[iridescentxstars]

｡˚ ꕥ 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐱𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬' 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒

Kinky season is coming and I thought I'd get a head start. From today until the end of September, I'll be taking kinktober requests while also working on some other fics that I hope to have done and ready soon (yes, the wolf fic is at the top of the list) This event is split into two different types: typical NSFW and dark, spooky NSFW because as someone kept making a point of, it's kinkTOBER and lines up with spooky season and I should have fun with that.

Idols allowed: Jongin, Bangchan, Minho, San, Seonghwa, Juyeon, Sangyeon and Irene

RULES:

Must have all qualifying factors to the prompt otherwise it will be deleted.

Drabbles made that are on the darker side will be tagged and properly trigger warned. Do not read them if you are uncomfortable. Every post will state everything used.

Always take care of yourself and be aware of what you read. This is all for fun and is not designed to upset anyone. Nothing written is believed to be how someone may behave and is all fictional.

Try to be original and fun. If a kink/prompt has been picked too many times, I will not do it

If you don't like a particular prompt/kink, feel free to ignore it, do not send snarky remarks to belittle what someone may enjoy

Some will very clearly work well together, some will not, while I do like a challenge, please be mindful about how it would work as I only have around 500 words to make it make sense

Please do not make the prompt too restrictive. These are meant to be drabbles and there needs to be creative freedom

Format: Must contain the following: Idol, AU, trope/dialogue/prompt, kink

You can have a trope OR a dialogue OR a prompt OR all of it. Mix and match. Requests that spark inspiration might get a longer piece written. You can choose up to 3 kinks but only 1-2 AU, tropes and prompts/dialogue to keep it easy!

All these prompts have been either thought about or found on other accounts because sometimes it's hard to remember or think about different ideas. The darker/spooky choices are coloured red to separate them from the safer choices.

Note: They can be interchangeable in the right circumstances. Mafia can be considered dark or maybe having a werewolf boyfriend is softer than we think.

AU: (some found here)

Roommates!AU

Mafia!AU

Werewolf!AU

Vampire!AU

College!AU

Angel!AU

Demon!AU

Hunter!AU

Co-Workers!AU

Friends With Benefits!AU

Superhero/Villain!AU

Yandere!AU

Monster!AU (specify what kind)

Killer!AU

Circus!AU

Stalker!AU

Mythology!AU (specify what kind/who)

Hybrid!AU

CEO!AU

Alien!AU

You Choose (will allow 3 max of this)

Tropes: (found here)

Enemies to lovers

Fake Dating/Marriage

Only one bed

Love potion

Kissing as a distraction

Jealousy

Blind Date

Taking care of them

Forbidden Love

Confessions

You Choose (will allow 3 max of this)

Dialogue/Prompt: (some found here)

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Come on, you have to work for it.”

“We won’t be missed for a couple hours, we should take advantage of that.”

“Hmm, is that a threat or a promise?”

“Let’s commit some sins.”

“Jealousy is not a word I’m familiar with.

“This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time.”

“This seems like such a bad decision, but I just can’t help it.”

"You'll scream? Oh, baby, I really hope you do~."

You've been hearing noises for a while now, shuffling under your bed in the wee hours of the night. Most people would be scared to check whether it's their cat or not but you? You decide to lure the monster out by having a little fun.

There are no such things as monsters in your closet, that's what's always been told to you but how do they explain the eyes that watch you as you touch yourself? Or why you can't seem to stop doing it?

Everyone has a pet, a cute kitty cat or a puppy dog but you? Well, you have something that can't be found in a pet store... or... on this earth, actually.

A new haunted house has opened up and everyone is dying to go! You are scared, you won't deny that but what do you find scarier? The house and all its horror or the fact that being chased turns you on?

They told you that they would kill for you but you didn't think that they were serious... or did you?

You always joked with your extremely hot best friend that you would flirt and fuck your kidnapper because you read a lot of dark romance. So, they decided to make that dream a reality. Oh no, whatever will you do to gain your freedom?

Two words: Masked Men

You go to a party with your friends on Halloween and spot a handsome guy, walking around, shirtless, covered in fake blood with a mask on. Little did you know that it isn't quite a costume...

The dare was to enter the creepy, abandoned, possibly haunted asylum... not make out in it.

You Choose (will allow 3 max of this)

Kinks:

Oral

Toys

Knotting

Primal Play/Predator/Prey

Bondage

Praise/Worship

Degradation

Orgasm Control/Edging

Roleplay

Breeding/Creampie

Knife play

Blood play

Fear play

Dom/Sub

Impact Play

Overstimulation

Public

Dacryphilia

Free use (established/consensual)

Breath Play/Choking

Somnophilia

Owner/Pet

Voyeurism/Exbitionism

Photo/Video

Sensory Deprivation

Size Difference

Age Gap

You Choose (will allow 3 max of this)

I won't be putting the pressure on myself to do one a day as I do also work and everything else BUT I will try to do them every few days so there is no limit on what can be sent in as I'll go through and post like 1-5 at a time when I'm online and writing!

[oblivionsdream]

Hey @oblivionsdream !

I have 2 questions - bear with me…

As you know, I love your work, but have only just recently started actively engaging with it.

I actually first came across you and your Jester x knight OC’s at least a year or two ago, when a fellow DinLuke shipper tagged it with #dinluke, so it showed up on my feed. If you aren’t into Star Wars and are unfamiliar with it - that’s the romantic pairing between Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) and Luke Skywalker.

For a while, I actually thought that it was a medieval DinLuke au because there are quite a few fanarts exploring that ship in different universes (including ours) and different timelines, etc.

One of the things that lent credence to this idea was the fact that the king looks so much like the Jedi, Quinlan Vos.

The characters do also closely match the personalities that a lot of the fandom have collectively given Din and Luke on tumblr - like Luke actually being a feral mischievous gremlin underneath his serene Jedi facade, and Din actually being the more composed (and often lovingly exasperated) of the two.

It was a surprise when I looked more into it and realised that they are original characters, completely unrelated to DinLuke and Star Wars as a whole.

So I guess I’m just curious what was the inspiration behind the Jingly Menace and his steadfast, taciturn knight? Was it a song or a meme or just watching a medieval show and during a scene with a jester, you had a sudden burst of creative juices like “Eureka! Pretty jester x hot knight!”

Sorry if you’ve already answered this and I’ve just missed it while scrolling through your page.

My other question (this I know has been queried to JM himself but he nervously evaded the question) when JM is shown crying in one of the first pictures you posted of him, what was the actual reason that you had in mind behind it? Was it just simply because his attempts to get the hot mysterious knights attention had thus far been unsuccessful (from his perspective anyway) and he succumbed to a private moment of vulnerability?

Every time I look at it, I’m dying to know!

Anyway, love you! Hope the JM comic is still on the horizon at some point - coz I would buy and read the crap out of it!

Hey there!

I honestly had no idea what DinLuke is though I've seen the tags. My knowledge of Star Wars comes from whatever I have absorbed against my will being online and when my best friend made me watch the prequels a few years ago 😂

So Jester solely came to be because I've loved jesters for many years at this point. I just find them fun but there's never enough content for them out there so I just wanted to make my own oc. I also just love trickster characters- anything fae like or I always adored Loki in Norse mythology so he's very based into those kind of mischievous vibes and humor.

Augustine was purely accidental. I saw some Tumblr post about a knight or maybe it was about a jester and a knight (I no longer remember) so I thought it would be funny to doodle Jester with a random knight being a menace asking him about his big sword. Augustine was never supposed to be a character. But then I just kept coming up with other ideas for Jester and this random knight whose face he never saw and whelp here we are.

Soooo the crying. It was definitely a private moment no one else was supposed to witness. Part of something I find interesting with playing with Jester's character is the idea that sometimes the seemingly happiest and funniest people are also the saddest but they just cover it up with a smile. His backstory before coming to the castle is still something that affects him but also he feels lonely at court. He constantly craves the validation of attention he didnt really get as a kid and is constantly surrounded by people but also he feels very lonely in court. He is in a strange place of being neither noble but also not quite a commoner/servant. Nobility will look down on him and not take him serious because he's just a silly guy but the servants are wary to get too close because of his close relationship with the king and the fact that he technically has a higher status as Court Jester. He is one of Monty's closest confidantes but his own secrets keep him from being fully honest with his king. It's a strange place of feeling alone in the middle of a crowded court where everyone sees his silly jester persona and make up but no one sees beneath it.

I still hope to make a comic! Just trying to find the time to get all my ideas in order. Thanks for liking my silly guys!

[widowswineapologist]

a/n: random assortment of hcs for the primis boys! slightly suggestive at times so proceed with caution. i left it kind of ambiguous as to whether this was canon au or modern au so have fun imagining whatever :33

primis richtofen:

♡ - he's the type to spend hours initially researching a very vague question he has and then it spirals into him researching something completely unrelated to said question. don't ask him how he got from reading about greek mythology to how bed bugs mate, he doesn't know.

♡ - (also don't ask him how bed bugs mate.)

♡ - for some strange reason, for as long as he could remember, he just gets the most random and inconvenient of nosebleeds. it has happened so often that he's grown to just be mildly annoyed by it at best and he usually has tissues on hand just in case. for him, this is entirely normal, but one time he got a nosebleed while he was talking to you and you freaked out and he had to reassure you he wasn't dying.

♡ - richtofen always wants to be the smartest guy in the room, but he kind of goes feral whenever you correct him. intelligence is already an extremely attractive trait to him, and passion compliments it greatly. the slight humiliation he feels for being wrong is quickly forgotten when he sees that fire in your eyes as you lecture him.

♡ - if you're not able to read or speak german, he is... not exactly going to teach you. what he is going to do, however, is randomly hand you a slip of paper with what seems to be utter gibberish scribbled on it, and he'll simply ask you to say the word with a completely serious expression. and then he is going to cackle like a witch when you say it wrong. he enjoys the little things.

primis dempsey:

♡ - he's really bothered by how much he can't remember about himself, so as a substitute, he tries to remember everything he can about you. it's incredibly sweet and thoughtful sometimes, but occasionally it creeps you out that he can recall some extremely niche and easily forgettable detail you revealed about yourself in passing several months ago.

♡ - throughout his life, he's had a habit of just... randomly falling off his bed in the middle of the night. he has no idea why it happens, he's just grown accustomed to waking up on the floor with his blankets trying their best to keep him tethered to the mattress. it truly is a sight to behold.

♡ - what dempsey lacks in book smarts, he makes up for in street smarts. he knows a bunch of strange life hacks, random bits of information about generally niche topics, weird remedies for certain illnesses, the works. (if any of you have seen breaking bad, he's kinda got jesse vibes in that regard LMAO)

♡ - he doesn't do it anymore, but during the earlier stages of your relationship, he really liked pushing your buttons. once, in the midst of an argument, you slapped him, and after the initial shock wore off, you frantically tried to apologize, only to be met with the marine giving you a lazy smirk. he wore the red handprint on his face like a badge of honor.

♡ - (you've asked him multiple times if he's a masochist or something and he never gives you a straight answer.)

primis nikolai:

♡ - that one guy that just always has random resources on him for virtually no discernable reason. you need batteries? he's already reaching into his pockets. you need a toothpick? it's your lucky day, he's got a pack of them right here. hell, you need matches? he's fishing an entire box out of his bag.

♡ - nikolai has a strange habit of taking in stray animals. he literally can't help it, he sees a cute, fuzzy little creature in need and he's dropping everything to assist the little guy. it's a little sweet watching him take care of animals like puppies or kittens, but he brought home a bear cub once and that's when it became a problem. you do kind of miss mishka though.

♡ - his upper body strength is INSANE. it's not news to anyone, not even you, but it was a little shocking when nikolai asked you to sit on his back while he was doing push-ups. and he did a good amount of them!! if he noticed your shocked expression when he was done, he didn't mention it, but he does subtly flex in front of you every once in a while. what? he's just proud of his physique.

♡ - it might just be because of where he grew up, but he's always checking if you're cold or not, especially during the night. the second you say yes, he's dropping everything to find you a better coat, or blanket, or he even gives you his gloves. he doesn't want you to be cold :( you're always welcome to leech off his body heat too.

primis takeo:

♡ - the proud owner of a very impressive and vast collection of bladed weapons. he prefers swords by a long shot, but even he can't turn away from a well-forged knife. it would probably be concerning if it was literally anyone else, but it's takeo so it's cool.

♡ - a relationship with takeo is an extremely slow burn, but once you've finally crossed that threshold, takeo is in it for life. he takes the term "ride or die" very seriously, and he's willing to do nearly anything for you. takeo would even kill for you if asked. anything to make you happy. anything to keep blood off your hands.

♡ - takeo is very graceful and collected in all aspects of life, except for the first few minutes after he wakes up. his brain tends to lag behind during those moments and sleep still has a tight hold on him, so it results in him looking completely and utterly bewildered as he takes in his surroundings. sometimes he mutters incomprehensible things in japanese during this, and it's hard to keep yourself from laughing. he's kind of embarrassed by it once he fully wakes up.

♡ - he will NEVER admit it, but he has entertained the thought of being a house husband before. what he found even more embarrassing, however, was that he realized he would be very good at it. he's a good cook, he's a god at keeping things neat and tidy, and he would enjoy having time to himself for a while. takeo will never bring this up, but if you do, he's down for it.

[dei2dei]

CageBlade Recs List

While I write a bunch of CageBlade myself, I also like reading it. And in these low-Sonya times, there’s… not been a lot of it, so I want to shine a light on some of the fics that I enjoy, both old and new. There are lots of great fics with Sonya and Johnny out there, and everyone will have their faves: this is just a handful of ones I like!

CRITERIA: 

must be CageBlade-centric, not them appearing as side characters or a past relationship in another ship-centric fic.

must be a complete story, not one chapter as part of a large collection.

CONVERSATIONS IN THE DARK by CosmicTapestries (@cosmictapestries) : https://archiveofourown.org/works/33033778/chapters/81995701 , M. This is a great spin on a softer version of Johnny and Sonya and picking up where MKX leaves off. I love her turns of phrase, I love the progression in here, it’s just… *chef’s kiss* Everything she writes is great, and this particular piece is the beginning in a series of so many good stories.

A SMILE LIKE YOURS by Ceose: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595579 , G. This wrecks me every time I read it. A Teen Wolf fusion/AU using Linden Ashby as Johnny & also Sheriff Stilinski; what happens to Stiles’ mother in the show happens to Sonya here, and it’s beautiful and heartbreaking and I love it.

RUN TIME by GoogamooGirloftheWeek: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124123, T. Post-MKX, Sonya concerned Johnny hasn’t been taking his meds and responding to her texts. When she goes to check on him, she finds something unexpected. It’s really deftly handled and the language play with the title and symbolism is fantastic.

EXHIBITION MATCH by jayiin (@thenotebookwizard): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50402827, G. I just love Sonya’s pride in Johnny in this, her confidence, the way she compliments him and is happy for him. It’s absolutely the kind of thing I can see her doing when she knows he’s not paying attention. It’s a fun glimpse into what could be. I MISS YOU by theladyspades: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161892, M. I love the bit of vulnerability from Sonya in here. It’s sweet and simple and a fun series of moments.

LIGHT ME UP by RedInkat: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51820240, E. Sometimes you just need some straightforward shenanigans and smut and this fic provides. There are some great turns of phrase in here and it's a very playful fic! If you have a favorite CageBlade fic, share (replies/comments/tags/something!)??