#i ordered a long coat yesterday

[nauticalfools]

.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6339

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.

a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter

His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George. 

You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.

“Excuse me.” 

You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.

Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.” 

His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that. 

It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf  inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged. 

“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop. 

“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”

“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself. 

“Spencer Reid.”

There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk. 

Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day. 

Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations. 

It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.

“Oh my god, don’t!”

You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?” 

The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”

The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates. 

“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk. 

You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression. 

The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety. 

Your book is here. 

It’s Y/N, by the way. 

He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable. 

But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do. 

That day, you don’t get a message back. 

You get a call instead. 

“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too. 

“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”

Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”

The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“

“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”

For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”

This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”

“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher. 

“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”

“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call. 

By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.” 

“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”

“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.” 

“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”

In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“

“Thank you.”

At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”

“I know.” 

There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.

You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?” 

Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”

“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”

“And with bribery, I like your style.” 

His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with. 

The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?” 

You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript. 

The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on. 

Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house. 

A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky. 

“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”

How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him. 

The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding. 

“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would. 

The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore. 

“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”

That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee. 

After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.

It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.

“Y/N!” 

You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked. 

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same. 

His voice. It’s not the same.

Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you. 

When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.

That’s when you see it. 

More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you. 

Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”

“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“

“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away. 

“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“

“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you. 

“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.

The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.

“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.” 

Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section. 

“What just happened?” 

“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”

It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help. 

Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”

“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”

“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.

“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”

“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”

“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”

“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”

In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“

“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”

“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”

Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?” 

“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“

“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“

“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”

It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”

The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"

“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”

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

AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3

Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!

[sun-kissy]

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

[keyaho]

summary: nami joins a bdsm community in hopes of finding a dominator/partner. she manages to snag Terry Richmond the most sought after and picky dominant in the community of their city.

short warnings: throat fucking, praise kink, size kink, slight voyeurism, teensy objectification

Taglist: @zillasvilla @heauxvibez @harmshake @kuromiish

dividers/warning graphics by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics images found on google, template on canva

“How do you feel about me dressing you?” He asked, his eyes were bright as they sat in a bar catered to those of the BDSM lifestyle. 

The Munch had long been over, but Terry’s interest in her had stayed. When he told Nami where to meet him for the first time she was hesitant. Taking the ‘relationship’ offline was frightening and made it real. 

She sat across from him in a yellow milkmaid dress, bare of jewelry, and flats; an ode to the 2000s, because what the fuck? Her hair was up, the brown curls pulled back to show her face and neck. He requested a manicure and she opted for ballerina pink polish on her natural nails. Same with her feet. He couldn’t see them, but she was fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Everything she had on was of his choosing, delivered to her yesterday afternoon with a note. 

No panties. - T

“It’s not exactly my style, but I like the color yellow.” She admitted. 

Terry’s eyes crinkled around the corners as he laughed, full lips stretching over white teeth. 

“The point is to keep wandering eyes away from you.” He admired the way yellow made her brown skin glow. “Yellow is your color.” He stated. “Remember that.” His voice deepened suddenly, ‘come here.” 

She stood up, their little corner table sat to the right of the bar, her back to the bustling crowds coming in and out. She approached him slowly, his eyes eyeing her form and the way the dress stopped in the middle of her thighs. He leaned back in his chair, and pushed her hands to her sides. His hand slipped between her legs, rubbed up the back of her knee and thigh. His eyes stayed on hers, forcing eye contact as his palm cupped her ass, her bare cunt brushing against his wrist. 

“Have you gone without them before?” He asked. 

”No, first time,’ she admitted. 

Terry brought his hand down, discovered she was wet, and began rubbing her slowly leaking hole. “How does it feel?” 

Her face went flush, cheeks hot as she tried to find the words to speak. He had a smirk on his face and knew what he was doing was causing her to lose concentration. 

“G-go-good.” 

Terry dropped his hand and motioned for her to sit back down. 

“Through the nose,’ he instructed. “Inhale.” 

His large hand rested against her bare chest, the other guided his heavy and long dick past her tongue. He felt her chest rising and falling in rapid anticipation and still his movements. She couldn’t see them, his eyes, from her position. Back against the couch's arm rest he made her lean back over it, legs spread, and hands bound behind her back. Law & Order SVU played silently on the tv and if Olivia knew what this man was doing to her she’d call Stabler in for back up. 

For a moment he just watched how she tried to calm herself down so she could take him into her mouth this way. Deep throating was his favorite.

Nami had met him on a site called Fetlife. Her curiosity about BDSM had led her to creating an account she visited on the weekends in the privacy of her home. She explored her novice sexuality and a month ago met him there. A faceless profile she had ignored because no face to the profile was a red flag. 

He pulled from the warmth of her mouth, saliva coating her nose and eyes from an early attempt. 

“Maybe you need an incentive.” Terry hummed. “Something else to work for until my pleasure is yours.” He stepped back from the couch, disappearing from her blurry sight. 

There was some shuffling in another room. What sounded like zippers and slapping made her ears perk up. 

“Nami,’ he called. 

Her head turned at the sound of his voice. “Yes, Sir?” She croaked, her throat felt full though nothing was in it. 

She could only reply with that phrase or her safe word. Stone. Either he had permission or he didn’t. He didn’t care for that inbetween shit. Until she called for it her body was his to do what he willed. 

Naked, Terry walked over and ran a finger from her navel up between her breast, beneath her chin, and tapped at her lips. Her mouth opened and he shoved his middle and ring finger against her tongue. She tasted latex as his thick fingers stroked backwards. Her chest heaved. Terry pressed his other hand to her chest, subduing her movements. 

“You better breathe through that fucking nose!” He growled. “If you throw up on my hand I will wear that ass out and send you home.” 

Their appetizers had arrived first. He ordered for the table and Nami was pleasantly surprised it was just stuffed mushrooms and not oysters. He plated hers first, sliding it across the table with a fork on a napkin to her. Her water sat, half drunk, with the lemon slowly floating to the bottom. She was starting to feel like that lemon, drowning in Terry’s scent and demanding demeanor. He wasn’t ‘on’, but it felt like it. How could someone be so naturally dominant? 

“You eat, I will talk. I want you to take in what I’m saying before you respond, okay?” He prompted. “It would be best if you answer according to the way I requested. I don’t like wasting my breath and time and I want to know you are listening. Active recall, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Eat.” 

A few bites into the mushrooms and her stomach was starting to feel better. The nerves she had were currently battling the mushroom and Parmesan breaded coating. 

“I’m not an easy Dominant.” He breathed in deeply before letting it out. “I do this for pleasure of course, but when it becomes a chore then I have to reassess. I don’t expect perfection, but I require competence.” 

She reached for her water, needing to cool down the flames burning between her legs. She knew this much from his profile. 

“I have rules and expectations. There are also levels and lessons to be learned. With your naivety there are many things I can teach you and do to you. I will push your boundaries.” He saw she stopped eating and was actively listening to him, but there was a question in her eyes. “Ask me,’ he prompts. 

She furrowed her brows and with a voice barely above a whisper looked down at her food. “I thought it was just really intense sex?” 

“Getting fucked is a privilege. Me indulging in your kinks is a reward for doing what I say and want. You are here for me and not the other way around, understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Terry had explained that if any time she was not enjoying herself she could leave and he would end their arrangement. That she did not want. However, his posturing was intimidating. He was a man of control that wanted control. 

He pushed his fingers as far as they would go and held them there. Nami’s legs snapped shut and the sensation wetting her cunt and staining the white material with moisture caused her to moan. 

“Open those legs and be still.” 

An ungloved hand came down on her outer right thigh. Stinging she cried out almost gagging up the dinner she had before coming over. 

“Sit up.” 

Nami struggled against the fingers in her mouth. Terry cupped the back of her head and guided her, still fucking her mouth in a steady pace. Tears were spilling from her brown eyes, the sight tightening a knot in Terry’s abdomen. He pulled his hand out and rubbed the spit against her chest. His grip on the back of her head tightened and he adjusted her to sit on the couch, legs spread. 

“We’re going to try this again.” He pulled off the glove and tossed it aside. “When I push you swallow.” 

“Yes Sir.”

“When I pull out you breathe.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he smiled and the sudden change in demeanor caught Nami off guard. 

“I came on a little too strong, hm?” 

He gripped the base of his dick, stroking it against her lips as he stared down at her. 

“Open.” His fat tip bounced against her mouth. She followed his instruction and he pushed the head just past her lips. “Suck me off.” 

Her mouth was wet and nearly numb as she slurped his dick into her mouth. Heavy on her tongue she took as much of him in as she could. His hand stayed in her curls, grabbing her head tightly. Terry was thick and long. She wasn’t sure how he carried it around. Dick was all she could see when she came over. The thick behemoth between his legs had called to her all night and when he finally pulled it out for her to see he denied her permission to touch. 

“The only thing you can use tonight is your mouth.” He watched her undress, the cuffs hung off his fingers. “That’s to suck my dick, safe word, or what?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

Nami had to admit all of him was overwhelming. His attractiveness, his gait, his gaze, but it was his boundaries that scratched at an itch in her brain.  She knew her rules for the night.

His scotch permeated the air and wet his lips as he sipped it. Seconds later he tossed it back, the glass landing on the coffee table with a soft thud. 

When she had arrived the first thing he did was instruct her to bend over. He stood behind her and lifted her dress, her bare ass flashed him before his hand came down in a teasing slap. Couldn’t help myself. He had said. 

Terry interrupted her recalling with a hard shove of his dick past the back of her tongue. Her nose pushed against the dusting of pubic hair around his base and she struggled against the binds on her hands and the grip on the back of her head. 

“Breathe.” He demanded. “Calm down and breathe for me.”  

Through teary eyes she looked up at him. His face was expressionless as he looked down at her. It took her a few seconds but she began to swallow. It was hard at first. He was so hard already. She had to find the willpower to hold off her vomit. He began to move slowly, pumping his hips forward and back inch by inch until she had a rhythm to match his. 

“Look up at me," he said slowly, "let me see you suck my dick like a good girl.” 

She wanted so badly to touch him. But he left her wrists cuffed behind her back. Her shoulders were beginning to burn from the position and even bending them was a strain to hold. Her eyes were blurry and visionless at this point, but she turned them up to him. All she could hear was his heavy controlled breathing. Precum began leaking from his tip and on a slow drag out she tasted it on her tongue. He paused. She swallowed. 

“Look at that,’ he cooed, ‘opened that shit right up. You want to please me don’t you, baby, hm?” 

He pulled out just to hear her speak, though the large gasp of air and outpour of spit from her lips was a much prettier sight. It all landed on her chest, coating her chocolate colored nipples in a mixture of him and her. Filthy. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He guided her head back and she opened her mouth for another onslaught, but he took his time. Sliding across her tongue in a a mocking way. His hips would jerk back as she tried to close her mouth around him. He could see the slight agitation on her spit covered face as he played in her mouth. 

He thrust forward and though there was a little retch in her throat, she took him fully. Terry held her head still, enjoying the clenching of her throat around his dick. He could feel the air from her nose being sucked in and released against his lower abdomen.. Between her legs, the same was happening as her pussy clenched around nothing, but dripped down to the floor, dripping like a slow leaking faucet. 

Terry pumped his hips, chasing his pending orgasm. Her knees dug into the floor, trying to balance herself as he clutched her head in his hands. Her curls were tangled around his long fingers as he pistoned his hips, fucking her mouth to his pleasure. 

“Imagine the ways I could fuck that pussy,’ he said, while stroking her throat. “Such a good girl,’ he added, ‘I just might reward you tonight.” He murmured, while licking his thick lips. The praise made her gulp around his dick and it jumped in her mouth. 

Terry yanked back, balls clenched as he grit his teeth together. The sudden squeeze against his already sensitive tip made his toes curl into his carpet. A low curse on his lips. She was a visual mess and Nami used the time his dick was hanging in front of her face to breathe. 

“You trying to make me nut already?” 

Nami coughed but smiled slightly. She was sure she looked crazy. 

“Get back on the couch.”

Terry lifted her by her hair and turned her to face the couch. She moved to the couch before Terry stopped her and sat her in front of it. 

His hand smacked her cheek lightly breaking her from her delirium. 

“Talk to me, baby. How are you feeling?” 

Nami was hoarse and breathing heavy. She blinked through the blur and looked up at him, standing before her like he was some God seeking devotion. 

Her only reply? “Yes, Sir.” 

Terry smiled. “You just might earn more words.” He stroked his dick as he watched her, her saliva coating his hands as he swapped them.

Not liking the way she was positioned he moved her back to the couch, her head dangling over the side. Her blunt nails dug into the couch behind her back. Terry spread her legs, dragging two fingers through her swollen and dripping cunt. He brought them to his mouth and she watched him suck them clean with a satisfied hum. 

“The day I taste that pussy is the day I’ll know God is real.”  He came to stand behind her, dick flat on her face and his balls pressed to her forehead. “Spread your legs and open your mouth.”  

Terry pulled her back further, the arch making her hiss, and slid back into her mouth. He stilled and reached down, smacking her pussy a few times, enjoying the way her fat lips shook. Nami started to squirm and pulled against her binds. Observant, Terry began to move fucking into her throat at a slow pace. 

Ten minutes after the mushrooms, two bowls were placed in the table. Cacio e pepe. They both ate in silence for a few minutes, sharing looks across the table. He was trying to read her face and she was trying to avoid looking him in the eyes too much. In the photos he shared with her they were hazel, in the afternoon sunlight they were currently tipping the scales of blue. 

She nervously tapped her fork against the bowl, the ceramic creating a ringing sound. 

“What’s on your mind,’ he cut through the silence abruptly. 

“Do you have other submissives?” 

His lips turned downward for a millisecond and if she hadn’t been watching his lips she would have missed it. Terry placed his fork down and took a sip from his own glass, a long island. She could smell the alcoholic beverage from her side of the table. He was a drinker. An image of her sucking his dick as he drank flashed in her head and she snapped her legs closed. 

“I have done a few scenes.” 

In the local community he was a sought after dominate and tended to avoided play parties because he knew the outcome. They would clamor over their own feet for his attention, circling him like vultures on a dead carcass. 

The woman in front of him wanted more than that and he knew her question was leading. Not everyone could disconnect from their dominate after a scene. Some wanted the sporadic attention then go about their lives. What she wanted was a bit more domestic and monogamous. He knew that. Her little profile had that in bold letters at the top and bottom of her bio. Fetlife wasn’t the best place to find a dating partner and a dominate, but Terry could oblige. It had been a while since he had a partner. In more ways than one. The ex-Marine watched her finish her meal, his palms itching to touch her again. 

“You want a permanent situation.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Do you think it was smart using Fetlife?” He asked. 

“I’m hoping you aren’t going to make me look stupid for using it.” 

Terry’s lip curved upwards at her quick response. “We’ll see how your first lesson goes with me, compatibility in this area is important. It’s not a part of me that I can turn off.” 

His dick twitched in her mouth. 

Terry had one foot on the couch and the other between her legs, his hands gripped her head as his dick plunged in and out of her mouth. He was trying to edge himself, but she had learned quickly on how to breathe and it was difficult fighting against the squeeze of her throat. When she whined around him his control slipped. Terry rode her face, using one hand on the back of the couch to balance his weight. He brought her head towards his pelvis to met his thrusts, her gagging a melody as he hummed and chased his orgasm. When it was on the cusp his toes dug into the fabric of the carpet and floor. Elation spread through his long limbs, including the one choking his submissive. 

His submissive. 

His……

Terry let his body claim his submissives. There had been very few that could elicit a primal and feral response from him. He always sought his completion, wanting to cum on or in them but the woman in his clutches had to earn it and he was more than willing to teach her. However long it took. Until she was pliant and could read his body and knew what he needed so he could give her what she craved. 

She felt his balls tightening as they slapped against her chin. She wanted to badly to touch him, rub her hands up his thick thighs, grip the muscles of his ass to draw him deeper into her mouth. She wanted to swallow him whole in his entirety. Her body tingled at the thought of him chasing his heights. Used in a way she felt like a toy utilized for his pleasure. A good girl. 

“You’ve done so good,’ he grunted, yanking out of her mouth. 

She coughed, throat sore from the onslaught, but he held her head back, rapidly stroking his dick in front of her face. Thinking he was going to cum in her mouth, she opened it back up and stuck out her tongue. Terry laughed through his moans. 

“Nahhh,’ he grunted. “You have to earn that.” 

Thick, hot, ropes of his cum landed on her neck and chest. The sudden warmth made her jump but she relaxed as he covered her neck in his load. Heavy breathing between the two of them lasted long enough for his cum to cool on her skin creating that sticky feeling as it ran down her chest. Lips swollen, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, still tasting some of him. She would well until tomorrow night. 

He looked down between her legs, the floor was wet from her pussy leaking so much. Her inner thighs drenched and her clit swollen just waiting to be sucked on. He wanted to lie on his stomach in front of her as she was and lick her clean, but his restraint took him backwards to the guest bedroom. When he returned, she was still waiting for him, legs open and her body relaxed from being able to catch her breath. 

His aftercare was simple; a warm rag wiped the remnants of his cum on her body. Helping her up, he pressed their chests together while he un-cuffed her, her shoulders slumped forward and she whimpered in pain from being able to move them freely again. 

“Go get in the tub.” 

He had cleaned himself up she noticed. Black sweats and a matching shirt covered him from her would be wandering eyes. Following behind her, she noticed clothes on the bed, water, and a bottle of Tylenol. Once inside the steaming bathroom, she made her way to the tub, using the edge to get herself in. Terry helped her sit, and the hot water soothe the aches in her body. He checked in with her, asking if she was okay and what she did and didn’t like about their session. 

“Was I too rough?” He asked, thinking back to how he had spoken to her. He had gotten so lost in his element that he hadn’t been sure if she was okay with being spoken to that way. 

She shook her head, moving the water up so it splashed against her throat. Terry reached behind him for a bottle water he had brought into the bathroom. Uncapping it, he held it to her lips, needing no instruction she opened her mouth, swallowing the room temperature water with ease. 

“You did well,’ he hummed, hands dipping into the water and descending between her legs. “How close were you to cumming for me?” 

His middle finger slipped into her cunt, stroking a fire that hadn’t fizzled out yet. 

“So close,’ she sighed. 

He added his thumb, stroking her engorged clit in tandem with his strokes. “Hm.” 

Terry pulled his hand away and grabbed her throat. He pulled her in, lips dangerously close to hers. “But you knew not to?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He finally graced her with a kiss, his lips full against hers. Languidly, Terry kissed her and used his tongue to stroke his way into her mouth. Nami whimpered into his mouth, wanting so badly to grab him, but she had no permission to touch him. Not even out of scene. Everything about this arrangement was controlled. 

He pulled away with instruction. “Bathe and get to bed.”

Terry stood, leaving her in the bathroom and without the option to get herself off.

want more terry? check out : Operation Valor

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies (II)

summary: the one where jake realizes the complexity of a supposedly simple plan.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.4K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: i love this chapter. it was so much fun to write jake's first meeting with mc. the game left many unresolved questions and i will try to answer them based on the information we already have and a little imagination.

masterlist

Without any hesitation, he nodded. There was no point in lying now, not after everything they had done to get Hannah back. And, even if it bothered him a little, Barbara had won his trust.

“A penny for your thoughts.” The hacker asked, seeing the confusion in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's a long story.”

“I have time.” She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

Jake took a deep breath to calm himself. They definitely didn't have time. However, he knew he would need to do his best to make her trust him again.

“Long story short, an old alert from Nym-0s showed results yesterday saying that you bought a plane ticket to Switzerland. Since the airport was close to Duskwood, I thought I'd better investigate.”

“Have you been following me since New York?”

“Not exactly, I bought a nonstop flight from Tokyo to Zurich.”

“Why didn't you tell me who you were when we bumped into each other at the airport?”

He hated the fact that his tone was more hurt than angry. Jake opened his mouth to apologize, then closed it. Looking over her shoulder, he noticed the presence of a hooded figure standing in front of the open door of the chinese restaurant, hunching his shoulders against the pouring rain.

Barbara's cell phone immediately started ringing with a call. Frowning, she reached for the device inside her bag, and Jake didn't need to understand portuguese to know what was written on the screen.

“Unknown number?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head, meeting Jake's eyes.

“Great.” He said ironically, taking the cell phone from her hand and sliding his finger to the left to reject the call. “Come on, I'll explain everything to you on the road.”

“All right.” Barbara answered, allowing Jake to lead the way. “But if you're lying about who you are, I'll break your nose.”

“It's fair.”

The hacker kept walking , and she ran to keep up with him, dodging a puddle of water. Two minutes later, they stopped in front of a gray Mercedes-Benz crowned with a red convertible roof parked behind the Gates Hotel.

“Please tell me it’s not stolen.”

“It's not stolen!” Jake looked at her offended, opening the passenger door.

“Sorry! It's just that in my mind you were poor. Which, when you think about it, doesn't make sense, right? How would you do everything you do without money?”

“You are impossible, Barbara.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I can't be impossible, Jake, I exist.” She replied, rolling her eyes theatrically. “I think you meant that I'm unbelievable.”

“Get in the car straight away.” He ordered, but he was smiling, his eyes filled with something like pleasure.

“I have some questions.” Barbara announced when they stopped at a red light.

“Of course you have.” Jake smiled amusedly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Earlier, at the airport, was our meeting on purpose?”

“Yes. I couldn't risk my position by tracking you via cell phone so I had to be creative.”

“Something tells me you're the type to put trackers in people's favorite coat pockets.” She was surprised when he didn't deny it. “Seriously?” Barbara scoffed, rubbing her hands down her arms.

“That worked, didn't it?” He said, undoing his seat belt. “Here, you must be cold.”

Before Barbara could object, Jake took off the leather jacket he was wearing and handed it towards her.

“Thank you, Jake.” She accepted the offer, her cheeks blushing beautifully as she quickly looked away from the defined muscles that were marked by the white t-shirt.

“You're welcome.” He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

“Were you in Tokyo this whole time?” Barbara questioned, placing the jacket over her shoulders.

“Tokyo, New Delhi, Manila... I needed to keep myself busy so I didn't think about you too much.”

“I'm unforgettable, aren't I?”

“Too unforgettable for your own good.” He agreed, replacing his belt and accelerating the car to get them moving again.

She sighed loudly.

“Yeah, I guess that explains why the FBI won't leave me alone.”

“What?”

“You have no idea why I'm here, do you?”

“Considering who I saw at the chinese restaurant, I think I might have an idea.”

“They sent some messages yesterday, inviting me to that same restaurant we talked about last time. The writing was very similar to yours, but it wasn't the same.”

“You knew it wasn't me and you came anyway?”

“We had an agreement, and as a future lawyer, I couldn't let them get away with this so easily.”

“What was your plan?” He waited for an answer, but Barbara just shrugged. “What? Didn't you have one?”

“We brazilians work better under pressure.”

Jake had to stop himself from giving her an irritated look.

“Well, at least this time the FBI is innocent.”

“What do you mean?”

“Old habits never die, right? I figured something was wrong when you didn't go directly to Duskwood, so I accessed the security cameras around the hotel and watched the footage from the past two days.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing too out of the ordinary, but there was one guy who caught my attention. I think I've seen him before. Anyway, I've run his face through facial recognition software and will have confirmation by the end of the night.” He met her eyes, his expression becoming serious. “Barbara, do you understand how…”

“Stupid to come here alone without knowing what I would face? Yes, the reality is starting to knock. In my defense, I would never imagine that someone from the outside could have access to our conversations.”

“Breaking into the FBI database is complicated, but not impossible. This guy was supposed to be looking for information about me and ended up finding you along the way. I'm sorry for bringing you into this.”

She made a nonchalant gesture, dismissing his apologies.

“You're only here because I was impulsive and played my role as a decoy very well, so I think we can say we're even.”

“I will always be in your debt.” Jake declared softly, weaving through traffic with ease.

The rest of the trip flew by, and the next thing he knew, he was parking near the Aurora's curb.

“What are we doing here?” Barbara looked at him uneasily, her voice sounding louder.

“I need to drop you off somewhere safe before I go back to get my gear from the hotel I'm staying at.”

“A bar is the last place I would think of, I have to admit.”

Jake snorted.

“As much as you approve, we only came here to get Jessica's address.”

“I thought you gathered information on all of us when Hannah was kidnapped.”

“I did, but Jessica moved out a few months after Richy got arrested. And since the FBI is monitoring activity around your friends' digital data, I'm forced to do this the hard way.”

“You mean... Talking?”

“Talking to Phil.”

She stifled a laugh.

“You can wait in the car if you want.”

“I'm not leaving you alone with this guy.” He rolled his eyes, stepping out into the drizzle that was decreasing with each second.

“In that case, why not go to Lilly or Dan?” Barbara commented, carefully slamming the car door. “I'm sure it would be less unpleasant for you.”

“I don't want others to know I'm in town.” Jake said, stopping beside her under the bar's canopy. “Not yet.”

“You're avoiding your sisters, aren't you?”

“It is complicated.”

“I know it's none of my business, but they'd be happy to hear from you. Especially Lilly.”

“Since when have you been Lilly's defender?”

“Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are.” Barbara laughed, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress. “How do I look?”

Jake analyzed her from head to toe for a few moments, seeing the way Barbara's hair fell over her arm in messy locks, how her smudged mascara highlighted the beauty of her light brown eyes, and how her dress, almost completely dry, outlined each centimeter of her body.

“Beautiful.”

“I'm serious, Jake!”

“Me too.” He smiled adoringly, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Come on, I don't want to prolong this any longer than necessary.”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[islayhawkin]

Let me take care of you

Newt x f!reader (clint x jeff mentioned- if you don't ship it just ignore it lol)

2,8k

Summery: newt accidentally overhears you talking about liking him but he thinks you were talking about minho

Request: Hello can you do a newt x fem!reader when the reader is a medjack and talk about (I forget if it’s Clint or Jeff) how she is love with him but she didn’t realize he was behind her ? Please

Misunderstandings; hurt/comfort, angst

A/N: okay this escalated pretty quick into angst whoops

Can be read as a part 2 of 'let me help you'

It was a usual morning in the glade. The runners were getting ready to start their rounds. Alby started to wake everyone up and frypan made breakfest ready.

You and jeff on the other hand were already in the med-hut to check up on a slicer who almost got his arm chopped off yesterday. Jeff held his fingers to the boys neck.

"He's still alive."

You hummed in relief.

"Lost much blood?"

You collected the things to change the bandage on the young boys arm.

"Nah seems pretty good."

You handed jeff a container of warmed up water and a cloth. "Thanks" jeff muttered as he began removing the blood soaked bandage from the arm. You sat down next to the bed and gave jeff a helping hand whenever he needed.

"How are things with clint?" You gave Jeff a teasing grin. Jeff sighed.

"There are no 'things' between me and clint." But he gave up long ago to deny it convincingly in front of you.

"You looked shucking cute cuddled up yesterday evening." You grinned as you took the dirty cloth and water bowl from him.

Jeff scoffed. "Oh yeah what about you lovebirds then? I'm pretty sure you two were the ones cuddled up. Half the glade was probably jealous." He took the new bandage from your hand. A blush coated your cheeks but you smiled softly at the memory. "Yeah we were quite close yesterday."

You realised that the boy jeff was currently treating was still fast asleep. "Nothing wakes him up does it?" You pointed to him.

Jeff chuckled. "He sleeps like a rock. But don't try to distract me. I'm telling you, you need to ask him out."

"Because you're the expert in that?" You raised your brow.

Jeff rolled his eyes and sat down too after finishing the bandage. "No. Because it is so clearly obvious to everyone. Do you know why the boys don't try anything anymore with you?"

You blinked confused. "No...?" "Newt threatens them. They're afraid they'll be banished or beaten to a pulp if they try something with you."

You were speachless for a moment. "What...? No newt doesn't do that... I know he's protective. That's why they set up the rules but he never uses violence."

"Well he does when you are involved. You remember how gally was brought in with a bashed in face? That was newt. Gally, as gally is, apperently said a lot of disrespectful stuff about you which he could not tolerate."

Your heart beat a bit faster. Newt did this for you? You knew newt avoided violence and stuck to order as much as he was capable off. And that he completely neglected these believes as soon as you were involved was weirdly...sweet.

"So I'm telling you- he cares about you very deeply. Almost concerningly so. And everyone of the boys is aware how you two look at eachother."

You couldn't contain your bright smile. "I never knew that. That is very sweet." You sighed dreamily. "He's just so adorable."

Jeff laughed quietly. "I tell you he's beaten someone up and you call him adorable?"

You glare at him with a pout. "You know that's not what I mean. He's just- so handsome. Even when his hair is touseled of sweat at the end of the day. I don't know how he does it. I could listen to his voice all day too. Every time I see him I just want to squeeze him out of excitment."

"I'm sure he is." Jeff muttered with a grin.

"He always looks out for everyone and rather neglects his own needs than others. I'd rather he wouldn't but I like that about him. He also has everything in control. I mean alby is the leader but he's the leader in the background. He always notices when something is wrong and asks about it. When he laughs he has these really cute crinkles on his nose. Sorry I'm rambling."

Jeff leaned forward. "Then do something about it. Honestly in the eyes of everyone you're already-"

Newt cleared his throat as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of the med-hut. He had walked in a minute ago and heard you talking about someone. At first he thought you might actually be talking about him but his self-consciousness told him you were probably talking about minho. You two always were so close. Minho was a phisical guy. He was muscular. Had great humor. Of course newt understood why you'd fall for minho. After all it was his best friend. But it still stung. A lot.

Newt didn't mean to eavesdrop but he couldn't really find a good moment to interrupt until he couldn't stand hearing more.

His face showed a friendly expression but his eyes wouldn't meet your face.

You on the other hand were turning around to look at newt with wide eyes. You didn't know how long he stood there. How much he heard. If he even heard anything so you tried to slow your heartbeat and act normally.

Jeff glanced between you two as if he was watching a very interesting story unfold before his eyes.

"I uh. I need to get some supplies for the runners. They're about to start. But maybe you'd like to bring it yourself to minho?"His eyes were lowered to the ground.

"Yes of course. No problem." You hastily stood up and collected the small supplies for the runners. As soon as you finished speaking newt was already gone again.

You stilled as you realised this and turned to jeff with wide eyes. "Do you think he heard?"

"He heard something."

"Why did he storm off then?"

Jeff raised his shoulders. "You should probably go talk to him."

***

You did try and talk to him but after the encounter Newts behavior changed. He clearly tried to avoid you. He was a lot more in his room. Even locked up so alby couldn't get in to sleep. He almost worked aggressively hard as a track-hoe. Not stopping to work at dinner time and starting to work before the others were even up.

The others noticed too of course. Newt was the glue after all. Without Newts full help the glade got into a more chaotic state. Alby needed to scream around a lot more. He even seemed to be angry at newt for acting this way.

He didn't come to the med-hut anymore. Neither for his limp nor to pick you up for sleep.

For you and frankly everybody else it was a unreasonable change of behavior. You knew the things he overheard in the med-hut were the trigger for this but you could not fathom why he'd be so distraught because of it.

But to Newt it was perfectly reasonable. You were in love with minho and the latter obviously in love with you. The whole glade seemed to be. You were the only girl. What chance did he have.Newt saw it clearly. You always were with minho. Sometimes even disapearing with him into the woods. He didn't even want to think about what you did. You always kissed minhos cheek. Hugged him a lot. Minho always flirted with you.

And it was even worse that minho was his best friend. He loved minho dearly. They've been through everything together. And he couldn't bare the thought of losing you both when you two were so close.

This reaction to the pain he felt in his chest may have seemed overdramatic to a outsider but to newt it wasn't only about 'not getting a chance with you'. It made him realise that the love he felt for you, the hope you gave him, was all in his head. He needed your love. Desperately. And he didn't know how to cope without it again.

This worried you. A lot.The behavior reminded you of the time after his incident. How you first got to know him after waking up in the glade. He seemed broken then and he did now.It made you realise that nothing really changed about newt. He was still that small kid that you first met.

What worried you even more was his self-harming behavior. Not taking any consideration about the state of his body.

He didn't stop working even when alby told him to. Sometimes he didn't show up for dinner because of it. You always took a extra ration from frypan and brought it up to his room.

You knocked softly on the locked wooden door. "Newt?" There was no answer. "Newt I brought you dinner. You need to eat something."

Silence.

You almost layed the plate down in front of the door again when the door opened a bit.

Newt couldn't help but take that glimpse of your care.

You gave him a smile. "Hey." You held the plate out in front of you. "Here. You missed dinner."

Newt took the plate from your hands hesitantely and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Thanks."

Before he could close the door again you held the door open with your foot. "Newt what's wrong? I know I've been asking this constantly the last few days but I worry about you. The whole glade does. You're not acting like yourself." Your voice was soft.

He shrugged carelessly. "Maybe I just have my period." He tried to joke. You were glad he attempted a joke again. But you also knew it was his way of distracting of the matter at hand.

You gave him a look. "We both know that is not the reason."

Newt sighed. "There is nothing wrong. I'd like to sleep."

You scanned his face desperate for a answer. "Is all this about what you heard me talking about?"

Newt froze up. "I never heard anythin'. Good night." He closed the door and locked it. He leaned his back against the door and took deep breaths. Blinking away tears.The situation didn't stop him from defending you though. On the contrary. He got more angry. More irretable. The usual calm and collected newt was overcome with a more emotional one.

Minho and alby gave you a explicit instruction to get throught to him at breakfast table that morning.

And you were determined to do so today. This has been going on for a few days too long for your liking. When you made your way over to the gardens in search of him the sign you were met with made a stabbing pain in your heart. Newt was working in the garden as usual. Pulling vegatables out, getting new fertilizer, sowing new ones. You normally loved watching him work. But today the pain was evident on his face. His limp finally catching up with the pressure he was constantly putting on it. You saw him stumble a few times but he pushed through obviously.

Until he just...collapsed. His leg gave out under him. You could see him staying layed on the ground. His face on the earth. Exhausted. Suddenly his lanky frame you oh so loved looked a bit too skinny for your liking.

You hurriedly made your way over to him. When he noticed you he tried to scramble up fastly which only made his limp buckle under his weight again. He cursed under his breath.You kneeled down beside him and gripped his arm and a hand around his waist. "Shuck newt. What are you doing..."

"I'm fine. I'm fi-" he struggled to get up again with the few strength he had left.

You pulled him down against you by the waist again. "Stop it." There was a plea in your voice. "Stop it newt. You're hurting yourself."

He still struggled against your hold. "Let go. There is nothing...wrong" his voice cracked.

You didn't let him go. He turned his head away from you as a tear rolled down his cheek and he started to shake slightly.

Everything hurt him. His body. His mind. Only your soft touch gave him comfort.

"Shh." You turned his head to you gently. He didn't meet your eye but you could see in them the pain he was in. You wiped the tear away with your thumb.

"Come on. I'll take care of you." You stroked a dirty strand of hair out of his face and helped him stand up. A lot of his weight leaned on you as you led him into the med-hut. Clint looked up startled when he saw you carry a half limp newt in.

"Out." You ordered him but added a thankful smile.

Clint nodded with a glance at newt and scrambled out of the hut. Newt let himself fall down onto a bed. You took a blanket and tucked him into it, started to boil water on the fire and pushed another pillow under his head.

"I will be right back. Don't go anywhere." Newt watched how you gave him a sweet smile and made your way outside again.You came back with a bowl of food and a bottle of water, shut the door to the med-hut to build as much privacy as possible.

You sat yourself down on the side of his bed and showed him your loot. "What do you want?" A loving smile thrown his way.

"Carrot" he cracked out.

You put the rest of the food aside and handed him the carrot. He moved up to rest his back against the wall and hesitantely began to eat the carrot under your careful watch. The silence engulfed the room for a while only the cracks of the carrot being heard.

You made a heating pad with the boiling water meanwhile and pulled the leg of newts trousers up to gently lay the warm pad onto his throbbing knee.

You did what you always did. Care for him. Take care of him. He had missed this terribly. But he hadn't forgotten what had happened.

He looked at you a long moment. Watched your every move. He felt like he hadn't been able to look at you proberly for way too long. "Do you-" he swallowed. "Do you like my voice too?" His voice was timid. He wasn't sure why he chose that detail to ask.

"What?" You ask perplexed and looked up at his face.

"Nevermind" his voice was still raw.

"Of course I like your voice. How do you come to that question?"

Newt didn't know how to answer that question so he stayed silent.

You sighed and slid nearer to him on the bed. "Newt what's wrong? Please tell me. You are in a horrible condition. I'm worried. Everyone is worried."

"I- heard you. The other day. Talking about minho. You should give him a go if you feel that way about him."

You blinked. To you his talk was making none sense at all.

"but uh-" he swallowed. "Can I still come to you if you...?"

You frowned. "I'm not sure what you're talking about newt. Of course you can come to me. Always. You know that. But what has this to do with minho-?" The words now registered completely in your brain. "You think I was talking about Minho?"

Newt looked away painfully. "Yes I suppose it was obvious for a while..."

You shook your head in realisation. "Newt."

His eyes snapped up to yours. "I wasn't talking about minho. I was talking about you."

Newt thought he hadn't heard right. "W-what?"

"Yes. I mean minho is great. I love him too. But he's not you."

"You like all that about...me ?"

"Of course. You are...amazing." You laughed quietly.

Newt was speechless.

Your heart was beating a lot more faster than normally but you tried to ignore it. Taking a deep breath. "May I...lay with you?" You whispered.

He never wanted- needed anything more. But his brain was in freeze and he could only nod his head.

You cautiously layed down next to him and crawled your body under the blanket too. You were very clode to eachother. You could feel the presence of his body next to you. He felt himself relax in the presense of your body next to him. Your small breath tickling his cheek.

You decided to let your instincts take over and slid your hand around his waist gingerly. Newts body tensed up and he sucked in a small breath at the sudden contact.

"Thank you." He breathed out. His body relaxing again.

"For what?" You whispered.

"Loving me. Pulling me out. Caring for me. Without you I'd probably would have taken another go at that jump long ago." His self humor shone through.

You smiled but lightly squeezed him. "Don't joke about that. I'm glad you feel that way. Thank you too."

"For what?" He retorted my own question back.

"Being you. Looking out for me. I heard the boys were threatened by you?"

A blush formed on his cheeks. "Yeah they were saying disrespectful stuff and I can't let them wander around thinking they can try whatever they want with you."

You smiled. "Always holding the order up."

"It's my job." You looked at his big brown eyes.

"Please don't punish yourself like this again. Don't shut yourself off like this. I'm not sure why you're punishing yourself. You don't have to tell me. But I don't want you to do it. Please? At least talk to me."

"I'll try."

[badkitty3000]

One Fateful Day

Five x Single Mom reader, one-shot, 5k words

Warnings: None!

I received a request quite a while ago for a fluffy, sweet one-shot where Five befriends a single mom. Hope you like a super soft Five, cause that's what this is! ❤️

A/N: This image was made entirely with AI, as you can probably tell by the glaringly bad mistakes.

Five listened to the sound of happy children playing and screaming, along with the quiet hum of distant traffic and the crunch of bike tires as they rolled across the gravel pathways of his favorite city park. He found his usual bench, brushing off a few fallen leaves before easing himself onto it with the groan of someone years older than he looked. As soon as he was situated, he glanced around and waited. It never took long before they found him. Sure enough, less than 30 seconds later, the gang of ne’er-do-wells showed up out of nowhere.

Five’s bird friends consisted mostly of some mangy looking pigeons, a few brown sparrows, and one particularly ornery blue jay. They knew him by sight and would flock at his feet whenever he came to visit. As they gathered around, cooing, chirping and hopping excitedly, Five smiled down at them.

“Hi, guys,” he said quietly. “How’ve you been? Staying out of trouble?”

As usual, he received no real response, but more flitters and flapping of wings. That was ok, though. He didn’t mind the one-sided conversations.

Pulling a small bag of bird seed out of his inside coat pocket, he continued talking.

“Sorry I missed you yesterday.” He sprinkled a handful of the seed on the ground and watched as the excitement of the crew intensified. “Klaus needed a ride to the dentist. He said to say hi.”

Five watched the intricate dance of bird hierarchy unraveling before him. He already knew their order of rank and which bird was going to get the majority of the feast while the others waited their turns.

“Wren Franklin…be nice. Bernice isn’t taking your share, Jack Sparrow, so quit your squawking.”

He threw another handful on the ground. “Trucker Bob, it’s ok buddy…you get on in there, they aren’t going to hurt you.” Five suddenly stomped his foot at the blue jay, causing everyone to scatter for a brief moment before scurrying back again. “Sandra Jay O’Connor, I saw that! If I see you peck at poor Mr. Tippington again, you will be banned for a month!”

As Five cursed the blue jay while cooing soft words of encouragement to a small and plain-looking brown bird, he heard a quiet giggle nearby. Sensing it was aimed in his direction, he looked up. On the next bench over, he saw you. Your eyes sparkled as you tried to stifle your laugh. You looked abruptly away as soon as Five glanced at you.

Five smiled softly to himself. He knew he looked and sounded like a crazy person. But he sensed you weren’t making fun of him, just that you were amused.

“You laugh, but I’ve seen that bird fly right onto a man’s head and fly off with his toupee purely for spite. Granted, she was probably doing him a favor because it was god awful, but still.”

You looked at Five and laughed shyly again before shaking your head. “I had no idea bird crime was so rampant in this city.”

“Oh, yes,” Five nodded solemnly. “In fact, I advise you to stay away from the park at night. You might find yourself in the middle of a fly-by shooting. Lots of bird gang violence around here.”

“Is that so? Well, thank you for the heads up,” you said with a smile. Just then, your 5 year-old daughter ran up, out of breath. You handed her a bottle of water. “Ready to go, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded while taking a sip. “Yep.”

You got up and started to walk away, taking your daughter’s hand in yours. You stopped and looked back at Five, who was still watching you. “Have a nice afternoon with your friends there, and I hope Mr. Tippington is ok.”

Five grinned widely. “Thank you, and he’ll be just fine.”

You nodded with a smile and turned to leave. Five watched you go, ignoring the fact that his feathered friends were now clearly irritated that their benefactor had yet to give them their full ration of seed for the day.

Two days later, and Five was back on his favorite bench. As he was in the middle of another inciteful, one-way conversation with his buddies on the ground, he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“Go along and play, Cassie, I’ll watch you from here.”

When Five turned, he saw you standing there. Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight just like the first time he saw you.

“So, do these birds do anything for you in return for you feeding them? Like bringing you gifts, or doing your taxes?” you teased.

Five chuckled. “No. They just let me talk their ears off while they eat.”

“Huh. Do birds have ears?”

Five shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why they don’t care that I’m talking at them.”

You laughed and gestured to the empty side of Five’s bench. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

As Five moved over to make more room for you, you introduced yourself with a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. Five Hargreeves,” he said.

“Hargreeves? Why does that name sound familiar?” you asked, tilting your head.

Five sighed quietly. He really wondered why he hadn’t just picked another name by now. It would make things so much easier.

“Does The Umbrella Academy ring any bells?”

You were thoughtful for a second and then the lightbulb went on. “You’re kidding! You were…are…one of them?”

Five nodded. “Sure am. Good old Number Five.”

“I see,” you responded with a smile as you looked him up and down. “So, which one were you? I mean, what can you do?”

“Teleportation. Time travel.” He paused. “Pigeon summoning.”

You laughed. “Very cool. I can see your very impressive pigeon power in action now, but you’ll have to show me the others sometime.”

Five smiled. “Sure thing.”

You nodded. “Ok, Number Five. So, I’ve seen you around the park here a lot. Are you here with your kids, too?”

Five felt called out and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “Uh, no. No kids.” He was really hoping you didn’t think he was some creeper hanging out at the park for less innocent reasons. “Don’t worry, though. I just like to come here and feed these guys,” he explained, gesturing to the birds on the ground. “It’s like therapy but without the judgment and bill at the end.”

You looked dubious for just a moment, glancing over at the play structure where your daughter was swinging happily. But when you turned to face Five again, you relaxed. You glanced down at the birds. “They certainly seem to like you.”

Five shrugged. “I think they just view me as a human vending machine.” He held out the bag of seed towards you. “Want to be the hero?”

You nodded and reached into the bag, scooping up some seed and tossing it on the ground. The birds went crazy, tweeting and flapping their wings, making you laugh. Five grinned.

“See? They have no loyalty.”

“I see that. But you have names for them all?”

“Ah, well…some of them. At least the usual ones that come around. It’s rather interesting to observe their little avian society.” Five stopped, realizing that he sounded like a weirdo. “I’m sorry. I’m not a complete lunatic, I promise.”

You laughed, and once again Five could tell you weren’t making fun of him. You seemed genuinely charmed by him. You also had a very calming presence, he noticed. He didn’t feel awkward or on edge when talking with you, which was a refreshing change of pace these days.

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic. Believe me, I can spot them from a mile away and you’re not one.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket from an incoming call. You held it up to Five with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s my ex and he’s supposed to take our daughter this weekend, so I have to figure out the details.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

As you turned to walk away for more privacy, Five took a look over at the playground. He saw the little girl you had called Cassie, climbing up the ladder to the monkey bars. She was small and Five watched as she got to the top rung, hesitantly reaching out for the first bar to cross. As she swung out, Five could see she wasn’t truly comfortable with what she was doing, and the ground was pretty far below. He stood up, looking over at you, but your back was turned as you were trying to focus on the call. When he turned back to the girl, he saw it start to happen like it was in slow motion. On the second bar, one of her hands started to slip, leaving her dangling by a few fingers. She let out a scream that got your attention, but it was too late.

Just as your daughter lost her grip with her remaining hand and began to fall to the ground, Five blinked directly under her, catching her just in time. As he stood there with your daughter in his arms, both of them looking shocked, you ran over in a panic.

“Cassie! Oh my god, are you ok?”

She nodded, still looking up at the mysterious man that had appeared out of the literal blue to save her. “Yeah.”

Five set her down and she ran to you, hugging you tightly around your waist. You held her to you and looked up at Five.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching…but you were…oh my god if you weren’t here…”

“No problem. I’m just glad I got there in time.”

You choked back the tears you could feel coming on. “I’m a terrible mother, aren’t I? I just let my kid fall off the monkey bars because I wasn’t paying attention. What kind of person does that?”

Five smiled gently. “A normal one. Of course you’re not a terrible mother.”

“You don’t even know me,” you sniffed with a smile.

“True. But in the very short time we’ve been talking, I can tell that you’re a great parent. Just like you can sniff out the lunatics, I can spot a shitty parent a mile away.”

Cassie let go of you, glancing back at Five with a smile and then back at you. “It’s true, mommy, you’re not shitty at all.”

“Cassie!” you gasped in horror at your daughter’s language.

Five tried to hold it in, but he had to laugh, which made Cassie laugh, which then made you laugh.

 “Sorry, I think that’s my fault,” Five said.

“Well, I’d like to blame you, but the truth is I have a bad habit of swearing like a sailor myself. I just usually try to keep it to a minimum around her, but I’m not always successful.”

Five nodded with a smile before crouching down in front of Cassie. “Maybe next time stick with the swings, ok?”

Cassie frowned, her eyebrows scrunched together as she crossed her arms. “Swings are for babies. I can DO the monkey bars, but these were slippery. Someone made them slippery.”

Five looked back up at you with a grin, then back at Cassie, fixing his face so that he was serious again. “I bet they did. That seems like a very logical explanation; I can tell you are very smart.”

Cassie uncrossed her arms with a smile and nodded. “I am! I get in trouble at school for saying I’m smarter than the other kids, but it’s not my fault. I’m only telling the truth.”

“We’re working on being humble, aren’t we Cassie?” you said in a reproving way.

Five chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Cassie, making sure he was still loud enough that you could hear. “I completely understand. I have the same problem.”

The little girl nodded solemnly, recognizing a fellow put-upon genius in her midst. She looked back up at you. “Can I go on the slide now?”

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok.”

“Alright, then. I promise I’ll be watching.”

As she ran off to the slide, you turned to Five. “I should probably go over and stand at the bottom. Just in case.”

“Oh sure, I understand.”

“Really, I can’t thank you enough, Five. You’re amazing.”

Five put his hands in his pockets and smiled shyly. “I think amazing is a bit much, but you’re welcome.”

“So, will you be coming by to feed your buddies tomorrow?”

“Most likely, yes.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking that I might bring Cassie back here tomorrow as well. Maybe around 2pm? Do you think you’ll be here then?”

“I think I will definitely be here at 2pm.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

With a smile, you gave him a small wave and turned to go join your daughter at the slide. Five watched you walk away, unable to keep the growing grin off his face. This was the most interaction he’d had with anyone that wasn’t part of his family in a very long time and it felt surprisingly good. Really good.

The next day, Five was already waiting at his usual bench when you and Cassie found your way over to him. When he saw you, he stood up, holding out a cup of coffee for you. His own cup was on the bench next to where he had been sitting.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked it. Or, even if you drank coffee, but here you go. It’s just black.”

As you took the cup, you giggled. “Yes, I do drink coffee, and black is perfect. Thank you so much, that wasn’t necessary.”

Five shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was getting one for myself anyway, so it was no trouble.”

Cassie watched as you and Five stood there smiling at one another, but not saying anything. Her eyebrows came together and she looked up at Five, tilting her head to one side.

“My mom said your name is Five.”

Snapping out of his trance, he addressed Cassie. “Yes, it is.”

“That’s a number.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s how old I am.”

Five nodded. “You seem very mature for your age.”

She paused, eyeing him up thoughtfully. “Five’s a weird name.”

“Cassie!” you cried out, completely embarrassed at your daughter’s lack of a filter.

Biting back a laugh, Five pretended to look confused. “What do you mean it’s weird? I know at least a dozen other people named Five.”

Cassie paused, trying to determine if he was telling the truth or not. Then she shook her head with a small smile. “No, you don’t.”

Five grinned. “See? I knew you were smart.”

You laughed at their interaction, looking around. “So, where are your friends?”

“Oh, I haven’t put out the buffet yet. They’ll be here though.” He turned to Cassie. “Would you like to help feed some very ungrateful birds with me?”

The little girl’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“Ok, then, here you go,” Five took out his usual bag of birdseed and handed it to Cassie. “Just start sprinkling it on the ground. They’ll be here before you know it.”

As she took the seed and started to throw handfuls around and up in the air, laughing to herself, you and Five sat on the bench and watched. Sure enough, after about a minute, the small flock began to swoop in. Five identified all of them that had names, which made Cassie laugh even harder. As she giggled and let out little shrieks of joy while she continued to throw them more food, you turned to Five.

“I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “It’s been really hard on her since the divorce. She has to go back and forth from house to house every week. It’s stressful and I can see it taking a toll on her. Which, naturally, makes me feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Five said earnestly. “But even if it’s hard on her now, it will be better for her in the long run. Kids are resilient and she really is very smart, so I have no doubt she’ll be fine. What happened with you and your ex, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well,” you sighed, “it’s a long story. But the short version is that we got together when we were young and just outgrew one another over time. He’s not a bad guy, but we argued all the time. The love was gone and we just didn’t want to fight anymore.” You looked over at Cassie with a guilty frown. “I just wish I could protect her from all of this.”

Five was silent for a moment as he took that in. “Look, I’m not a parent and I don’t pretend to know anything about marriage, but I can tell you that it sounds like you did her a favor. Growing up in a house with constant bickering can be stressful in its own right. And not seeing any love between parents is even worse. So, she’ll be more than fine. You showed her that everyone deserves to be happy and she’ll carry that with her as she grows older.”

It had been so long since someone had said exactly what you needed to hear, that you immediately started to tear up. Hurriedly wiping your eyes, you laughed at yourself.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.” You looked up at Five with a grateful smile and patted his hand that was next to yours. “Thank you for that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Five swallowed nervously and looked down at your hand on top of his. “You’re welcome. And who knows, maybe you’ll find the right person down the road.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking in his clear green eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“Mommy look!” Cassie shrieked with a laugh, jarring you and Five out of your moment.

You quickly pulled your hand away, turning your attention back to your daughter. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear, as a small, skinny pigeon sat on her shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“It likes me!”

Five laughed, shaking his head. “I have been coming here for months and not one of those damn birds has ever sat on me like that.”

You laughed, too. “Unbelievable.”

“What’s this one’s name, Five?” Cassie giggled.

“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s…Fred.”

As Cassie continued on, feeding and talking to Fred, you looked over at Five. “What was that about?”

He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his voice. “I actually call that one Fuck Face.”

When you doubled over with laughter, Five grinned from ear to ear. He’d never made anyone laugh like that before, and it was the best he’d felt in a very long time.

Over the next few weeks, you and Five built up a close friendship. He listened to your stories about single mom life and how it could be lonely and difficult. You listened to his stories of his traumatic past and how he was attempting to live as a normal man for once in his life. The conversation came easily and you never felt awkward around one another. Soon, he had integrated himself into your life, and into Cassie’s, too.

She loved spending time with Five, and on the days when you didn’t see him, she always asked about him. He liked to tease her and she was always ready with her own zingers to sling back at him. When she told him bad knock knock jokes, he would groan and tell her how horrible they were, but he would be smiling the whole time. You would sit back, watching their banter, thinking how cute they were. 

There were more play dates at the park, more bird feedings, then lunch at a café, and eventually Sunday dinners at your house. Five had never felt this comfortable in his own skin before, and he actually thought he might have found what he had been looking for this whole time. Happiness.

Even though he had become such a big part of your life in such a short time, you and Five had not moved past the friends stage. You were still a little gun shy after the divorce, and you weren’t even sure Five was interested in you that way. Sure, there had been several times when you had caught him looking at you in that way that made your heart do a little flip in your chest. And maybe your breath hitched a little whenever his hand brushed against yours in passing. But you liked how things were between you. At least for now.

Five wasn’t sure how you felt about him, either. He knew you were coming off a bad relationship and you probably wanted nothing to do with men for the time being. He definitely liked spending time with you, though. He found he looked forward to it more and more. Seeing you smile when you saw him was the best part of his day. But he didn’t want to assume you were interested in anything more. If he made a move and you shot him down, not only would it be embarrassing, it might ruin what you already had. And that was too important to lose.

The three of you were at the park again, and you watched as Cassie dragged Five off toward her favorite twisty slide, taking his hand and pulling him along while he pretended to grumble about it. After he was forced to slide down the plastic slide, you laughed loudly when you saw him reach the bottom.

“What?” he asked, brushing the dust off of his pristinely pressed slacks.

“Your hair!” you laughed. “The static made it stick straight up!”

He patted at his crazy hair with a frown and tried to smash it down, which made you laugh even harder. After Cassie came tumbling out of the slide herself, Five pretended to be annoyed with her.

“Hey, kid, you didn’t tell me that slide would mess up my hair.”

Cassie giggled. “You look funny. Like a porcupine.”

After Five fixed himself as best he could, Cassie took his hand and tugged on it again, this time trying to get him to crouch down to her level. When he did, she rested her hand on his forehead for a second, pulling it back with a frown. Then she looked at Five with a shake of her head. “You don’t feel hot.”

“Should I? I’m not feeling sick.”

She looked over at you. “I heard you talking to Taylor’s mom at the bus stop and you said Five was hot.” She put her hand on his cheek. “He feels normal.”

If the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed you whole, you would not have been more grateful. Instead, you remained frozen, your face on fire and your mouth trying to form words that wouldn’t come.

“Uh…” was all that you stammered out.

In true kid fashion, Cassie was oblivious to the faux pas she created. As Five slowly stood up again, and Cassie skipped off to the swing set, unbothered by it all, his eyes met yours. The self-satisfied smirk on his face spoke a thousand words.

“You said I was hot?”

“I…no…I mean well yeah…kind of…” you tried to stumble your way through a cohesive sentence.

Five adopted his typical cool stance, with his hands in his pockets, as he continued to grin like an absolute asshole. “So, is Taylor’s mom cute? Did you give her my number?”

After a few more seconds of being mortified, you started to see the humor in the situation. You relaxed and laughed quietly, looking at the ground with a shake of your head. “Damn it, you’re an asshole sometimes, you know?”

“But still hot, right?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” you said with a groan.

Five shook his head slowly. “Probably not.”

As you ran a hand down your still-flushed face, you sighed. With a raised eyebrow, you jabbed a finger in his direction. “You fucking know you’re hot, too. That’s what makes it worse.” When he laughed, but didn’t deny it, you sighed again.

On your way over to the swings, Five bumped you with his elbow. “You’re pretty hot yourself, you know.”

When you looked over, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up as he swallowed hard. His eyes skirted away from yours as he looked at the ground.

“Thanks, Five,” you said, suddenly feeling very warm again.

“You’re welcome.”

It was a few days later when your little trio was walking to the park from your house. After Five had joined you for dinner, you had decided to take some of the leftover bread to his group of feathered friends. As you got close to Five’s regular bench, Cassie stopped him.

“Wait. Can you do the whooshing thing with me?”

Five chuckled. “You mean blinking? I suppose. If your mom doesn’t mind.”

“You can do my mom, too,” Cassie added.

Trying to hide a laugh, he nodded. “I would love to do your mom.”

Even though that little side comment sent a tingle down your spine, you pretended you hadn’t noticed. “It’s ok, you two go ahead.”

Five shot you a very devious grin before grabbing you both by the arms and blinking you over to the bench. Your shriek of surprise was cut short as you appeared out of his portal. Cassie was falling on the ground in a fit of giggles while you tried to catch your breath with a hand on your chest.

“Sorry,” Five said, unsuccessfully holding back his own glee.

“You are not, liar,” you laughed.

With a shrug and a grin, Five handed Cassie the bread for the birds. “Here you go, kid, they should be pretty happy with this feast.”

When Cassie opened the bag and spread the crumbs on the ground, the birds descended, recognizing their new, smaller food-bringer.

“Mr. Tippington, it’s ok,” Cassie cooed to the little brown bird that had become her favorite. “Trucker Bob, you’ll like today’s dinner, it’s bread!” She swatted the angry blue jay away, just like Five had shown her. “Sandra Jay…you be nice or no one will be your friend.”

Sitting next to Five, on the bench where you had first saw him talking to those ridiculous birds, you turned to him and studied his profile. You knew his face more intimately than anyone else’s, you thought. How many times had you stared at it while he was talking? Taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the way he swept the hair out of his eyes with an agitated hand. It made you wonder…what was stopping you from doing what you really wanted?

Out of nowhere, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but let out a short burst of laughter because the expression on his face was one of complete and utter confusion.

“Sorry,” you said, looking down at your lap. “I couldn’t resist.”

After a few seconds of Five trying to get his wits about him again, he smiled. “I’m so glad you did that first.”

“What do you mea—”

Your question was cut off by Five’s lips meeting yours, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. His kiss was soft and pure, and unlike any other kiss you’d had before. When you finally opened your eyes, meeting his gorgeous emerald ones, you felt so good you couldn’t contain your giant grin.

“I’m not sure what took me so long,” you confessed.

“Me either,” Five said with a chuckle before leaning in again, letting himself get lost in the softness of your lips and the sound of your quiet, contented sigh.

It was magical, pure and simple, and he wasn’t even sure how this was even possible. He wasn’t sure he was deserving of it, but he would take it.

“EW!!!”

You and Five jumped, pulling apart abruptly as Cassie looked on, hands on her hips.

“That’s gross,” she complained.

“Sorry, honey, uh…Five and I were just…”

“Mommy, I’m not dumb. I know you were kissing and it’s definitely yucky. You’re going to get germs.” She paused. “Are you married now?”

Five laughed, and covered your hand with his. “No, we’re not married. But we like each other, is that ok?”

Cassie thought for a moment, the birds around her seeming to stop and think with her. “Yeah, it’s ok. Just remember I want a baby sister, not a baby brother.” Then she turned back to her birds, ignoring the two shocked adults.

“Well…sorry about that,” you responded with a cringe.

“No need to apologize. These are all good things to know. Yes to a baby sister, no to a baby brother.”

“Oh my gosh,” you said, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Five gently moved your hand away. When you looked back at him, his soft smile told you everything you needed to know. And when he leaned in for another kiss, you felt like you were finally where you were supposed to be.

“I want this. Do you?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.

You nodded. “Yes. I feel like…like we’re meant to be somehow. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” Five said before kissing you once again, cradling your face in his hand.

Five had found what he had never dared to dream of. Someone he didn’t have to lie to, or pretend with, or put up a wall against. You liked him for who he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of anything when he was with you. You brought out all of the good within him, and he never felt safer than when he was with you and Cassie. You and she were his found family; the key to his happiness.

As for you, you had finally found the right person. Somehow, Five had become your best friend and confidant. And now, he was something more. Someone that understood you and knew the real you, all the way down to your bones. He was all you had been waiting for, and you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter of your life with him.

[wonzzu]

comforting - j. wonwoo

genre: fluff

warnings: none !!

word count: 1.0k

note: first fic! yaaaayy!! something very simple and fluffy as a starter on here, hope you enjoy :)

opposites may attract in many cases– not yours though. you and wonwoo may as well have been 2 peas from the same pod. two people who enjoy sitting in your own silence, simply enjoying each other's presence existing in the same space with the occasional sound of keyboard clicks or the sound of sheets shifting from you changing positions in bed on your phone, laughing at silly videos. whenever these days, where he can relax at home with you for just a moment in time, happen, being together like this is enough for you both.

today, wonwoo slides off his shoes, using one foot to hold his shoe down to slip his foot out, and sets his glasses down on the table and rubs circles into his eyes. feeling that itch in the base of his throat from recording pieces for the group’s new song, and the aching feeling in his shoulders, the soreness blooming as he shimmies off and hangs his coat onto the hanger by the front door.

padding his way across the hall, he hears small giggles from behind the bedroom door, smiling at the cute noise. while he may be exhausted, wonwoo will never be tired of you.

you wave at him when he walks in and take in just how deflated he looks– shoulders hunched, and his eyes struggling to stay open. his exhaustion is nestled deep in his bones; every step even slower than the next and his head feeling much like a bowling ball. he places a knee onto the soft duvet, and drags himself over to you, settling his head into the crook of your neck and enveloping your waist with his arms. even after a tough day, he will always find comfort in you.

he places a soft, but firm, kiss against your shoulder. wonwoo turns his neck slightly to open an eye and look up at you, “hi, baby.”

“you tired?” you hear the drowsiness in his voice, and he makes a noise of agreement– something resembling an “mmm” –and a small nod of his head against your warm skin.

“you look beat, nonu.” you giggle as you click your phone off and place your arms around him, sliding your hands up and down the large expanse of back in an attempt to soothe him. you work your fingers deftly into the taut muscles underneath his skin. his body slowly sinks deeper into your own, the tense muscles in his back relaxing and a long exhale comes through his nose.

“do you want anything.. food maybe? i could order in some takeout, or maybe even water..”

“ ‘s okay…. this is helping..” you feel as his arms tighten ever so slightly around your waist, his not-so-subtle attempt at communicating that you leaving him was the last thing he needed at the moment.

with a huff of air and a curl of your lips, you resign and stay in your spot seated against the headboard.

this was nice– his nose breathing in your scent, and your skin warming his own up from the cold winter air outside. he feels your stomach expand and deflate with every deep breath you take in and expel, and the small circles you were drawing in the space between his shoulder and neck with your thumb.

you smelled of dryer sheets and sugar, every other breath being a little longer than the last one– relishing in the scent that was you, and the exhaled air lasting a second longer. the air blows over your collarbone and tickles you a bit.

“did you do anything today, hon? i remember you telling me it was your day off.” his voice was rather muffled, with his mouth pressed against your shoulder but you understood. “not much.. i went to the specialty shop to look at the set of bowls i showed you online yesterday though, they were so cute! i bought a set and left it in the kitchen, you can see them tomorrow morning..” your love for cute dinnerware was endearing. seeing you squeal whenever you see a mug with cats on it in a store that you just had to show him before you switch aisles, or a set of plates that you think are uniquely beautiful and believe are extremely necessary for the house made his heart grow more fond of you.

“mm… i don’t remember it off the top of my head.. m’ sorry. i would get up so you could show me but i’m comfortable right now.” you feel the way his lips curl into a smile against your shoulder as he spoke. “you’re so warm…” he works his head further into your shoulder and a content sigh leaves his mouth. his behavior is almost cat-like, making you huff air through your nose and chuckle at him.

“it’s okay, you look worn out. you worked hard today nonu, you deserve the rest.” your hand made its way up his back and into his fluffy waves. toying with the strands and massaging the base of his neck, working on the kinks and knots in his shoulders.

“thank you hon.. can, can we stay like this? you feel very comfortable right now..” wonwoo knows it might be a little selfish of him, maybe his head is causing your shoulder to become uncomfortable or your leg might be falling asleep underneath his weight, but he hopes you would indulge him in his moment of self-perceived selfishness and exhaustion.

“we can, as long as you need to, baby..” you know how self-sufficient he is– not asking for help often believing he may be bothersome or imposing. or maybe it’s simply him believing he can do it all himself, but wonwoo asking you to do something so simple for him for the sake of his own comfort is a welcome gesture. he’s the type to offer himself to assist, but never one to expect the same kindness back. even if you asked him to carry the entire weight of his world on your shoulders and more, you would gladly do it and more for him. just for him to know a moment of peace in his haphazardness– and he would more than willingly do the same just for you.

[ateezthings]

Soft moments with SKZ

pairings: bf!SKZ member x genderneutral!reader genre: soft fluff warnings: sweathearts and lovebugs everywhere, reader wears a dress on Chan's, tiny hint of angst in Changbin's, blood in Jisung's word count: 2 k songs to listen to while reading: patrick watson - je te laisserai des mots hazlett - cemetery noah kahan - orange juice danandphilbeats - end screen (yes, I'm a phannie, sue me) a/n: I'm deep in my skz feels, this new comeback is doing things to me. Also, yes, we're doing reverse age order cz we love our dudes Seungmo and Innie and I feel like they usually have a disadvantage, so enjoy. Beautiful banners by @cafekitsune

Jeongin

"Honey, have you seen my wallet?"

You were reading on the couch, while Jeongin turned your whole apartment upside down.

A bookmark now in your novel, you got up. "Well, do you remember when you had it last?"

"Not sure, could've been today, could've been yesterday... I definitely had it when I went to get coffee with Hyunjin Hyung yesterday." He rummaged through the whole wardrobe, looking into every single bag he owned.

You slowly walked into your shared bedroom where you kept the laundry. "Ugh, where the hell did I leave it?" You heard from the hall.

After going through a bunch of dirty laundry, you finally found the pair of pants Jeongin had worn yesterday. You found his wallet in his left back pocket. Jackpot.

Calmly, you walked to your boyfriend who was now going through all of his coats. You waved his wallet in front of his eyes.

"Oh my god, where did you find it?" He exclaimed.

"In the pants you'd worn yesterday, genius." He took it out of your hands and pressed a short kiss on your lips.

"Thank you, honey."

"I love it, when you depend on me for everyday tasks." You looked at him with love in your eyes.

He seemed mock-offended. "I do not, I'm very capable."

"Sure, Innie. Whatever you say." This time, you got on your tippie toes to press a kiss on his forehead.

Seungmin

"You have a little... thing on your chin." Seungmin wiped some latte foam from your chin. Before he could take his hand away, your intrusive thoughts won and your mouth snapped after his fingers.

"Hey! You freak." He took his hand away quickly but smiled brightly.

"At least I'm your freak." You retorted and took his hand in yours, massaging it a bit with your fingers.

His nose scrunched up. "Ew, that was too cheesy, even for you."

"Don't act like you don't love it, Minnie." You fluttered your lashes at him, got up from your seat and kissed his cheek.

He seemed taken aback by that. His ears and cheeks turned bright red and he opened his mouth but closed it again after no words came out.

You were very pleased with yourself. "That's what I thought."

Felix

4 am and you woke up again. You'd had too much coffee yesterday but things at work were also stressing you out, making you unable too sleep through the night.

You reached your hand over to your boyfriend's side of the bed but it was empty. In the dark, you tried to look around for him, but couldn't see much. It was unlike him to leave in the middle of the night.

So, you got up to look for him. It didn't take long, there was a faint light coming from the kitchen.

You carefully opened the door. "Babe? Is everything okay?"

The bright light in the kitchen hurt your eyes at first. After a few moments you got used to it and saw Felix in front of the stove heating up some milk.

He looked at you. "Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, the third cup of coffee yesterday woke me... But when I reached over, you weren't there." You pouted.

"Aw, baby, I'm sorry." He came over to you, put his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek a few times. "I didn't mean to scare you. I simply couldn't sleep either and wanted to make a something hot to drink... Do you also want a hot chocolate?"

You nodded your head, still pouting. You lifted yourself up to sit on the counter next to the stove, so you could watch Felix.

He put some sugar, a pinch of salt and some cocoa powder into the frothed milk. Then he got two mugs and poured the chocolatey goodness inside. It was calming to watch him do the tasks one after the other.

When he was done, he gave you one mug and smiled at you. "There you go."

"Thank you, baby." The hot chocolate was smooth amd warm in your mouth, melting away some of the worries that had kept you up.

Jisung

"Oh, Ji, how did this happen?" Jisung had come to your shared bedroom, where you were reading your book. He pouted and clutched his hand, where blood came pouring out of his finger.

"I just wanted to make some dinner for you... and then the knife a personal vendetta against me."

You inspected his cut. It didn't seem to be that deep but a lot of blood came out. "Hold you hand high, babe." You turned him around and directed him into the bathroom.

This happened more often than you wanted to admit, so you'd routinely slipped into nurse mode.

You sat your boyfriend down on the toilet and got out the band-aids. First you disinfected his wound when Jisung winced in pain.

"Please, keep still, baby."

He pouted even more. "You keep still the next time I pour alcohol over an open wound of yours..." Sometimes he really was just a kid in a grown-up's body.

You gave him an amused look but continued bandaging up his finger. "There you go."

Jisung inspected your work and seemed impressed when he pressed onto the injured finger with his index finger on the other hand. "Thank you, sweetie."

"No problem, but babe, as much as I enjoy being your personal nurse, this is the third time this week you've injured yourself. Please be more careful, okay? I still need you in one piece."

"I swear I'm not doing it on purpose... even though I kind of like when you care for me like that." He smiled cheekily and pulled you towards him.

You couldn't help but bend down do kiss him.

Hyunjin

"Sweetie, I love you but you're getting the steps wrong... You're stepping on my feet a lot."

"Oh what? I only heard that you love me, Hyunie... I love you too." You playfully fluttered your lashes at him.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when you admitted to your boyfriend that you've never danced with a partner. It always seemed so romantic to you, the both of you dressed up, at a fancy event and dancing with the one you love until you were the only ones left on the damce floor. A bit old-fashioned? Yes, but definitely cute as hell.

Your boyfriend being the dancer that he is, couldn't help but offer you a waltz lesson.

He was a great dancer, he was able to lead you well. You however... had some troubles. Your feet constantly got mixed up, you couldn't lift your gaze because you were scared of tripping.

You took another step on your boyfriend's feet before he let go of you.

"Okay, babe, let's try something else." He took his index finger underneath your chin and lifted your head up so you would look at him. "Just look at me for now."

His dark brown eyes always pulled you in. The shape of his eyes, nose and lips were perfect to you so you spent some time analysing every single aspect of his face.

He took one your hands in his again and put his other hand on your waist. "Just keep looking at me and go where I lead you sweetie."

At first it wasn't easy to not look at the ground, but the longer you moved, the easier it got to dance with Hyunjin. Whenever he took a step forward, you noticed and took a step back. Whenever you felt him lift your hand, you knew it was time for a turn.

After some time you noticed how it felt completely natural to move like this. "Hyunie, I think we're doing it." You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice.

"Oh yes, we're doing it... and we're doing it well." He lifted your hand as a sign for you to do another turn under his lead.

Hyunjin made you turn quite fast and about halfway through you lost your balance, tripping over your own feet.

Luckily, your boyfriend caught you in the most cheesy way by wrapping his arms around your waist. Otherwise you would've fallen on your back. Hyunjin lifted you up again. "Did you just fall for me?"

You scrunched your nose up in disgust. "You're lucky I love you, otherwise I would've kicked you in the shin by now."

"Oh what? I only heard that you love me" Mocking you, he also fluttered his eyelashes at you.

This idiot was yours and you wouldn't have him any other way. You put your hands on his face to pull him closer for a kiss.

Changbin

You two had decided to take a walk at midnight. Since you both couldn't sleep, why not get a bit of fresh air outside?

"Jisung tripped over some trash today when we were on our way to the fan sign. It was hilarious, I almost peed myself a little."

You chuckled a bit. "That sounds funny as hell. I wish I could've been there."

There it was again: that tiny black cloud of sadness that came into your mind these days whenever you felt like you couldn't spend as much time with your boyfriend as you wanted to.

Changbin seemed to notice as he took your hand in his warm one. "Well, that's why I'm telling you this stuff." He smiled at you.

His thoughtfulness touched you. You stopped walking to wrap one arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

You looked him deep in the eyes before you kissed him slowly but deeply.

"I love you, Changbin."

His eyes half-closed as he smiled blissfully. "That's the best reaction to an almost-pee story I've ever gotten."

Minho

It was in the late evening. You were lying on the couch watching a really bad dating show on TV when Minho finally came home.

"Babe, I'm home."

"I'm on the couch."

You heard tired feet being dragged over the ground. He stopped in front of the couch closing his eyes for a second. Then, without warning, he let himself fall on top of you. It was not as gentle as it sounds. "Ow, babe, be careful."

"Sorry, I'm just so exhausted." His arms snaked around your tummy and he nuzzled his face between your neck and your shoulder.

You pat his hair. "It's okay, baby, you can relax now."

It wasn't often that Minho let his jokey, cool attitude slip away completely and just let himself be however he was feeling at the moment. But you loved those moments a lot. You enjoyed being with him whatever mood he was in.

"I love you." There was only a slight snoring in return.

Chan

On a recent thrifting trip, you'd found a beautiful A-Line dress. You were currently trying it on in front of your bedroom mirror. It had flowy sleeves that made you feel like a fairy.

"Woah... baby, look at you!" Chan stopped in the doorframe to your bedroom. He just looked at you with big eyes.

You tried to dismiss him with a wave of your hand but he wasn't done.

"You look absolutely gorgeous." He walked up behind you and put his hands around your tummy. He rested his chin on your right shoulder. His eyes were fixated on the mirror in front of you, admiring the view.

"I really like this dress too." You smiled, feeling happy about your recent find.

"No, I'm talking about you. How did I get so lucky?" He pressed a few kisses to the nape of your neck. The moment felt so gentle, you closed your eyes.

After a few moments you turned around and put your arms around Chan's neck, gazing into his eyes.

"Thank you." You stated.

He raised his eyebrows. "What for? I didn't do anything."

"For what you're doing everyday. Thank you for being the best boyfriend ever, single day." His eyes sparkled and he kissed you gently on the forehead.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

The Triceratons Experiment: part 2 (Angst) (18+)

2003!Turtles, Donatello x reader

Intro Part 1 (18+) / Part 3 (18+)

A/N: Finally! Finally I’ve been able to write part 2! I know some of you have been waiting for this for quite some time, and it’s finally here! Hope it was worth the wait💜💚

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Loooong (but we do like that), lust drug?, mildly forced?, forced injection, fingering, being watched, orale - female receiving, orgasm denial?

What Mikey had told Donatello and his brothers, had the purple clad turtle on edge. As a man of science, the unethical ways the triceratons went around their so called experiments, left a bad taste in Donnie’s mouth. He did not like what Mikey just had told him, and furthermore, Donnie had a feeling that this wasn’t the last they would see of the triceraton “professor”. But Donnie would have no idea how quickly his suspicions would come to pass.

The next day started like the day before. The turtles were woken up along with the rest of the prisoners, and told to head for the cantina for food. However, as the turtles made their way down the hallway, they were stopped by the guards, stretching their hands out and blocking their way.

“Halt here”, the nearest guard grumbled, scowling at the turtles.

“Why?”, Raph asked, already feeling agitated. He was hungry, even if it was for a plate full of horrible alien beige goop.

But the guard did not answer him. Instead they intensely stared at each other. Raph waiting for the guard to answer, and the guard expecting Raph to stand down. But neither of them did, standing strong in their silent power struggle. But finally the guard gave in with an agitated look.

“Crowd control. We can’t let all prisoners in at once”, the guard grumbled.

“Since when?”, Donnie asked, confused yet slightly annoyed. It made no sense to him. But the guard did not answer, instead he turned with his side facing the turtles, making it clear that he wasn’t interested in talking, leaving the turtles in silence for some time.

None of the turtles had any way of knowing how long they stood in that hall, waiting for the time they were allowed to go into the cantine. And as the time went on, their already present hunger had started growing, their stomach growling loudly. Raph’s anger and frustration grew as well, to the point where his brothers had to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, in order to calm him down.

Then, finally. Finally the turtles were allowed to go down the hall, making their way to the cantine. Mikey and Raph practically sprinted, not caring what kind of horrible food was left. They just wanted something. But as soon as the two of them came to the cantine, just ahead of their brothers, they were sad and horrified to learn that there was no more food.

Mikey kept pulling on the handle, hoping that a little bit of that beige goop would come out into his bowl, but nothing came. There was no more food.

“They did that on purpose!”, Raph spat, throwing his bowl and spoon on the table in distaine, before sitting down with his brothers. “Fucking triceratons! If I could get my hand on them I would-”.

“Raph!”, Leo exclaimed, cutting his brother off with a stern voice, his face matching his tone.

“What?!”, the red turtle asked, still fuming his anger.

Leo didn’t say a word, but with the same stern look, be pointed to level above them. Raph turned to look up, and found what Leo was talking about. On the floor above, professor Exzor stood with his clipboard, surrounded by guards, looking down at them, taking notes on his board.

“They’re doing it on purpose”, Donnie mumbled, not taking his eyes from the professor in his white lab coat. “It’s probably his idea. A way to force us into giving in to what he wants”.

“You’re telling me that that piece of shit doesn’t think he’s done after yesterday?!”, Raph boomed, fighting not to jump at the nearest guard.

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you”, Donnie calmly said. “Now, sit down before you give them a reason to go at us”.

With a scowl Raph finally sat down, staring angrily at the table, his knee bouncing under him.

“Aw man!”, Mikey whined, laying down on the table. “I was looking forward to food!”

Donnie and Leo exchanged looks before side eyeing the triceraton on the balcony above. Both had a feeling there soon would be an offer of food coming their way…

—

Once back in their cell, all four stomachs were growling like never before. Raph was getting angry, walking in circles, mumbling and growling. Mikey was once again sitting on the bench, talking about the human girl from yesterday. Though he had been surprised and shaken by the events, he nonetheless had found you very attractive. So attractive he would still mention you out of nowhere before rambling on. Both Leo and Donnie found themselves in deep silence, trying to figure out what was going on.

Suddenly the door slid open, once again revealing six triceraton guards with their weapons ready at hand.

“Face against the walls!”, they roared, marching into the small room. For a moment, Raph looked like he was ready to attack, but with a sharp look from Leo, he let out a small grumble before turning around to face the wall.

With every turtle turned and facing the walls with a guard behind them, professor Exzor made an entrance. For a moment, just a brief moment, Mikey hoped he came to pick him out once more. Though yesterday had been quite a shocker, he wouldn’t mind seeing you again. And if he actually would be allowed to have his time with you this time, he would have absolutely nothing against it. But Exzor didn’t go for Mikey this time around. Instead he went directly over to the guard that stood with Donnie.

“This one”.

“What makes ya think he wants to go?”, Raph suddenly perked up. “After what ya did to my brother, ya be having some nerve coming in here-!”

“Raph!”, Leo yelled out in a stern voice, causing his brother to shut his mouth instantly. “Shut it”. Raph tensened his jaw, letting out a strained sigh. He hated this so much.

Donnie didn’t really say a word as the guards escorted him out. And for some reason, he wasn’t too scared. No, he was thinking. He was too busy throwing glances towards professor Exzor to be fearful, his mind working trying to figure out what was going on.

They guided Donnie down one long hall after another, until they finally came to what Donnie assumed was professor Exzor’s laboratory. Under any other circumstances, Donnie might have been fascinated by it, wanting to get a closer look at the different machinery all around. But not today. Right now, he stood out in the middle of the room, all six guards standing by the walls, while professor Exzor went around the room, getting things ready.

“You’re probably wondering why I chose you today, aren’t you?”, Exzor asked, still not looking at Donnie.

“Because you want a different test subject than yesterday?”, Donnie asked innocently, acting as if he didn’t already knew.

This time professor Exzor finally looked up at him. He stared at him for a moment, before putting his hands behind his back, slowly wandering over to Donnie, slowly walking around him, taking a look at him, before stopping right in front of him, his horn up in the air as he did so.

“You seem like the smarter one of you four”, Exzor said, looking at Donnie down the bridge of his horn. “Am I right to assume that?”

“I like to think so”, Donnie calmly answered.

Exzor nodded a few times before stepping back, moving over to a strap table, setting things up for whatever he had planned for.

“Are you a scientist yourself?”, he asked with his back turned to Donnie, hands busy on the side table.

“I am”.

“I had a feeling you were”, Exzor said. “That’s why I picked you for today”.

“What do you have planned for today?”, Donnie asked, studying the way Exzor moved, along with what he was getting ready by the table.

Exzor stood for a moment, thinking his words through before he spoke. “Do you know a lot about humans?”

Donnie frowned his brows. “A thing or two”.

“What about human biology?"

“A few things as well”, Donnie said, feeling his hands getting clammy. “Some of my friends are human. I know enough in case they need medical attention”. Donnie wanted to ask why, but he had a feeling he would know soon. All day he had had a feeling he would learn something today.

“Have you ever gotten hands on with a human?”

This question took Donnie a little aback. He had never been asked such a question. He had never even allowed himself to think of such a thing. Him, a mutant turtle getting hands on with a human? No way.

“No, never”.

Exzor turned back towards Donnie, this time with a small self satisfied smile. He was finally going to explain. “Your brother has probably already told you about the human girl we have, right? I thought so. She’s an interesting specimen. We found her in an unknown spaceship, cruising around at the edge of the galaxy. We believed she was a spy from the Federation, but she kept saying she was from a planet named Earth. She wasn’t very convincing so we didn’t believe her. Yet she’s the only human we’ve ever had in captivity. It would be idiotic to get rid of her, when she could provide useful information about the mental and physical workings of our enemy. Yet there was only so much we could learn about with only one specimen. But then you and your brothers showed up, stating you were from planet Earth. That suddenly provided us with a whole new opportunity”, professor Exzor said, taking a hold of what he had been working with on the side table. Gloves… High tech gloves… “Though you and your brothers may not be the same species as her, you are from the same planet. That can be just as useful as well”. Exzor took a hold of Donnie’s hands, forcing the three fingered gloves on his hands. “These gloves are made to scan and read the subject. What we want you to do is touch the subject in specific areas, so that we can have our readings”.

“And why exactly do I have to do it?”, Donnie asked, somewhat fascinated by the gloves.

“Because no triceraton is so low as to touch a human in that manner. Disgusting!”, Exzor said sternly, almost offended that Donnie could even ask such a question. “Bring in the subject for testing!”

Another set of doors slides open, revealing two more guards, dragging in a woman wearing what looked like what Donnie could only describe as a hospital gown. Suddenly Donnie understood why Mikey kept talking about you - you were beautiful. A very attractive woman. You made him freeze on the spot and stare with wide eyes as they strapped you onto the table, hands and arms restrained, legs open wide in front of Donnie. He instinctively avoided his eyes, trying to be gentlemanly. But given the whole situation, it was kind of hard for him to do. That was when the two of you made eye contact, and Donnie felt a strange feeling in his stomach, remembering all the things Mikey had told him. Why did Mikey have to tell him all those things? And why did he have to remember them right now.

Professor Exzor told the guards to stand clear, before moving to a computer screen, pressing a few buttons on the keyboard before suddenly turning back towards the guards.

“Give them the shots”.

Before Donnie was able to react, he was grabbed by two guards, one holding his arm out, ready and exposed. He tried to put up a struggle, but realized it was no use. They had him in a lab. Resisting would only cause him, and maybe even you, more problems.

You and Donnie watched the guards with wide observant eyes, as they came in closer, two syringes at the ready. One for you and one for Donnie, filled with a violet substance. You immediately began struggling against your restraints when you saw it. Donnie immediately knew what it was. Whatever gas they had used on you and Mikey yesterday, it was that in liquid form.

“What is that?”, Donnie asked, keeping his voice calm, trying to sound curious, hoping it would make Exzor talk. But the triceraton didn’t budge so easily.

“You’ll figure it out”, was all he said, not looking up from his computer screen once.

Grabbing a hold of your arms, the guards injected you and Donnie with the pinkish, violet liquid, before quickly taking a few steps back from the two of you.

“Now”, professor Exzor said with a stern voice directed at Donnie. “Before the effects set in, put your hands on her angels”.

Donnie gave you an apologetic look before doing as he was told, closing his eyes for a moment when he felt your leg under his gloves. He would lie if he said he didn’t already feel the effects slowly kick in. His senses was already getting heightened, the scent of you slowly getting stronger and stronger. Along with another scent from you… oh no. It was kicking in for you as well. Donnie could understand what Mikey was talking about now. You already smelled so good. Why did you have to smell so good?

“Move your hands further up”, the professor said, still not looking up, somehow sounding even less interested than before.

Donnie already wanted to shoot him a death stare. Somehow the sound of Exzor’s voice made him feel like he was being ripped straight out of a pleasant state of peace. He did as he was told and moved his hands further up, noticing how your legs tensed up and your scent getting stronger. How easy it would be for Donnie to just slide his hands further up, lifting your hospital gown just a little…

“Don’t hold yourself back”, Exzor’s voice sounded once again, reading whatever came up on his screen. “The more you explore, the more information I get”.

Donnie looked back at your eyes, only to find you pupils blown wide already. From the sweat he was feeling forming on his own body, he was sure he looked the same. He sheared your eyes for permission, and to his surprise, you gave it to him. Giving him a small nod. Remembering what Mikey had told him from yesterday, you probably still had a lot of pent up emotions from yesterday. And with that, Donnie gave in, sliding your gown up so that he had a full view of you, the scent of your arousal smacking him in the face.

Donnie stood and stared for a moment, just the sight of your most private area making him go dizzy. Never had he seen a woman up close, nor been able to smell a woman like this. He couldn’t tell if it was because of your scent or the dose running through his veins at the moment, but it was making him feel like he was a week away from his mating season.

Donnie’s hands settled on where your thighs met your hips, pushing your legs further apart for him, his thumbs subconsciously making small circles against your skin, making small whimpers escape you. It didn’t take much to figure out that you were already feeling the effects, and that they were already hitting you strong. Just the feeling of Donnie’s hands on you making you tense with neediness under him.

You laid there before him, your eyes closed and your hands holding onto the restraints. Donnie caught the sight of your tongue wetting your lips, the stuff in his blood already creating images of what that tongue would be capable of doing to him…

“Please”, you whimpered, bringing Donnie back to reality, his abdomen tightening at the sound of your voice. The first time he had heard your voice, leaving him stunned. You sounded just as beautiful as you looked. Your legs quivered, trying to close so that you could create some friction yourself. “Please do something”.

Donnie’s brain went into reboot. He had never thought he would get to hear a woman beg for him to touch her - to do something to her. Yet here he was, with your legs spread wide open for him, though under rather dubious circumstances.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of staring, Donnie finally dared to touch your most intimate zone, letting his thumb grace over your clit. The slight touch made your hip buckle and a small sound of pleasure leaving your mouth. Donnie took a deep breath, taking in the strong scent of your arousal, totally forgetting about the triceraton guards standing around by the walls. Frozen like statues, not even looking at the two of you. It was as if your doings weren’t interesting to them at all.

Pressing this thumb a little firmer against your bundle of nerves, Donnie watched your reaction. You opened your eyes, trying to look down at his hand on you, heavy breathing and hands shaking. You needed more, your eyes silently begging him to do more. And so, Donnie started moving his glove covered thumb in small circles on your clit, causing you to cry out under him.

“Shit!”, you cursed, buckling your hips against him once more. Donnie couldn’t stop himself from churring lowly in his chest at the sound, the hand on your thigh tightening, pushing you even further open with a small increase of force, your head falling back. “Don’t stop”.

Donnie ignored the sound of the triceraton professor pressing the keys on the computer keyboard, focusing on your sounds, your smell and the expression on your face, pressing his thumb firmer against you. You slammed your foot against the table, moving your hips, forcing Donnie to use his other hand, placing it on the side of your hip and keeping you down against the table.

With his thumb still moving against you, he moved one other finger to your folds, gliding his finger through them. How he wished he could be doing this without gloves, so that he could feel your wetness against his skin…

Donnie’s finger glided through your folds until he found your entrance. He did not ask for your permission, feeling both you and his need growing with every second, instead pushing his finger into you, sliding into you with ease. You let out a loud moan that took both you and Donnie by surprise. Yet it fuelled something within him that he didn’t even know was there.

“Is that what you needed?”, Donnie asked as he started to move his finger inside of you, causing you to squirm underneath him.

“Yes”, you whimpered, your restrained hands moving to hold onto the table. Donnie could only imagine how pent up you had been yesterday, finally gaining some sort of release. “Faster, please”.

Donnie hummed at your words, doing just as you told him to, speeding up the movement of his finger, curling it up inside of you. Your reaction was better than he had expected, one moan falling from your parted lip after another. He felt that pressure against the inside of his cloaca, which he grown familiar with throughout his many mating seasons. How he just wanted to drop on the spot a slam into you, as if there was no one around the two of you. But he restrained himself, growling at the strong pressure within him, instead adding a second finger into your clenching hole, watching as your juices gathered up around his digits.

Your legs started kicking against your restraints, your muscles tensing and relaxing as he stimulated your nerves, his fingers hitting the sweet spot deep inside of you. One would not be wrong for believing that he was a master at this, that this wasn’t his first time at the rodeo. Donnie couldn’t explain it. His actions just felt natural at that moment.

You clenched around Donnie’s fingers making him groan, thoughts of how you would clench around him running through his head. You were intoxicating, every sound from you dulling the fire in his veins, yet edging him on, telling him that he needed more. That you needed more.

Donnie couldn’t help but press a kiss to your knee, making you look up at him, your eyes pleading for him. Pleading for him to continue what he was doing. To do more of it. So Donnie did, his lips going from your knee to hovering just above where his thumb was rubbing circles on you. You whimpered when you felt Donnie’s breath on you, your excitement for the feeling of his lips where you needed him the most, almost turning into anxiety of the thought of him not doing it. Flashes of what happened yesterday appeared in your head. The pain and need you felt for hours after the guards had broken you and the other guy apart. You had had no release, and the slowly growing feeling made you almost anxious. You wanted nothing more to cum, letting your juices drench this guy’s face. You still didn’t know he or his brothers names, yet in that moment you were desperate for either one of them to make you cum, just to stop the growing burning feeling inside of you.

Donnie replaced his thumb with his lips, giving your bundle a small lick before attaching his lips with small sucks. This action caused you to let out another loud moan, arching your back, once again struggling against the restraints. Donnie’s fingers speed up, so did his tongue continuing to do fast small licks on you, while the hand that had been holding you down, slowly sliding up under your gown, reaching to grab a hold of your chest. You and Donnie was so far gone in what you were doing, that you didn’t hear professor Exzor mumbling “interesting”, at what he saw on his screen.

You were so close, your mouth open wide, your eyes closed shut, and your body squirming underneath Donnie. He could feel how close you were, driven by a primal instinct to make you climax on him. You were so close. So close that Donnie could almost taste more than your sweet and salty juices. So close…

“Okay, that’s enough”, Exzor said to the guards. “I got the data I need for now. Put him in a holding cell before you bring him back to the others. Just send her straight to her cell”.

It felt sudden to you and Donnie when the guards grabbed a hold of him, pulling him away from you. You let out an almost pained scream, knowing that your possibility of release was once again being pulled from you. Donnie was like a wild animal at this point, fighting against the guards that were trying to restrain him.

“Let me go!”, he yelled, trying to pull his arm away from them with as much force as possible, only causing the guards to get more aggressive towards him. However, with eight guards around, it was only a matter of time before they were able to overpower him, and escort him out of the lab, so that they could place him in a holding cell. But just before they managed to get him out of the door, Donnie managed to get a look back at you, fighting against the restraints on the strap table. He caught your eyes, seeing how you silently pleaded for help. And suddenly Donnie understood why Mikey couldn’t stop talking about you.

—

“Log 67 on Human Studies by Professor Exzor. Date: the eighth of galamion, in the year 56 of the Triceraton Republic.

Today’s experiment once again proved a success. The turtle specimen marked purple has proved to be just as useful as theorized. With their help, I have been able to obtain more information about the human reproductive system, as well as their nerve system, along with a long theorized connection with humans' perception of pain and pleasure.

With today’s obtained data, I can now green light tomorrow's experiment, focusing further on humans’ connection between pain and pleasure, using the turtle marked red.

For the Republic”.

[vaguesxrrow]

can u plsss write one about charles with an american reader? like the inspo is the olivia rodrigo song so american lol. like maybe him making fun of her accent and her doing the and back and like the differences between the two cultures?

ACTUALLY INSANEEE bc right before seeing this i was singing that song in my head (i dont listen to olivia but i probably should tbh). alsoo i wasn't sure if you wanted a fic or hcs, so i kind of made a 2 in 1. hope you dont mind! xx

a/n: im not american nor british and ive never been to the usa or the uk... so excuse any inaccuracies pleaseee

tags: g!n reader, american!reader, alive!reader

you shivered and exhaled sharply, your breath misting out in front of you. the moment you stepped outside, you knew you should have piled on more layers, but edwin had been eager in whisking everyone out the door to carry out an investigation for your current case.

you burrowed closer to charles. obviously, he couldn't provide any real body heat, but being near him was a boost in morale to keep going despite the temperature.

"alright?" he asked, putting an arm across your shoulders.

"i should've put on more layers," you grumbled.

charles laughed as he kissed the top of your head. "you can have my jacket."

shaking your head, you declined. "it's fine, it's not that cold. and besides, i wouldn't want to strip you of your british glory and your british coat."

charles snorted. "so it's my british glory, now? who was the one making fun of my accent literally just yesterday?"

"litch-rally," you parroted, grinning. "why is it that all your t's turn into ch's?"

"hey, you're one to talk - what is it you were ordering at the restaurant yesterday? a glass of wa-der, was it?"

"bite me, charles."

he raised his jacket up and engulfed you with it in a bear hug. you shrieked with laughter and wriggled in his hold, but didn't protest when he demanded you hold your arms out so he could put the jacket on you.

"what are you, a soccer player? i thought i was your [boy/girlfriend/partner], not your competition," you teased.

"soccer?" he mocked, outraged. "soccer? it's football, mate."

"mate?" you scoffed incredulously, although you were smiling. "way to friendzone me after months of dating."

"oh, come on, you know you could never get rid of me." charles pulled you in again, this time by your hand. "and for the record, you look cute wearing my clothes."

a few beats of silence, in which you two looked at each other with similar expressions of fondness and exasperation.

"yeah, okay, now get away from me, you victorian fossil." you shoved him playfully, and sprinted away to catch up with the other three. niko waved you over, giggling at charles, who was jogging to keep up.

"victorian fossil? i grew up in the 80s!" he exclaimed. "you know this!"

⌦ ---

- you do know very well that charles grew up in the 80s - you frequently ask him what it was like back then, because naturally, you'd take an interest in your boyfriend's life

- however, charles loves how you're genuinely interested, and get how watching times change can feel a bit lonely for him sometimes

- you're a great listener when it comes to this (which you think you should be greatly accredited for; charles' good looks can be very distracting at times)

- imagine: you and charles in your room as he looks around, inspecting the decor you have on display as he rambles about life in the 80s

- he tells you about a huge movie premiere he went to:

- charles: "get this, right - a ridiculously long line outside the movie theatre. the weather is absolutely miserable, and so are the people. no one's talking at all. i think everyone was just hungry - i saw this lady have tea delivered.

- you: 'i keep forgetting you have stuff like tea times. and did everyone really have the patience to wait for that long, in silence?'

- charles, with a fake american accent: yeah, dude. in silence.

- you throw a pillow at him.

- you also like telling hilariously bad jokes relating to his accent

- you: psst. charles.

- he turns towards you, already expecting another jab at his british-ness

- you: what day do british people eat the most?

- charles, in a deadpan: what day.

- you: chewsday, innit-

- he yells 'NOPE' and walks through the wall, leaving you to wheeze-laugh on your own

[cmdrfupa]

XXXV

Satoru "I'm just a man" Gojo. Happy Birthday to our sweet loser :*

Satoru stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed, a pout creeping onto his usually smug face. His blindfold rested lazily around his neck, revealing eyes that were far too beautiful for someone sulking. He glanced at his phone again. No messages. No sly emojis. No secretive texts from neither his friends nor students.  

“I’m gonna head to the grocery store here in a bit. Did you add what you wanted to the list?” You dug through your bag fishing out your wallet before taking a glance over at Satoru. “Toru? You good?”

Satoru turned to you, huffing and dragging his feet until he laid his head on your shoulder.

“No birthday brunch, no room full of my favorite people, no Nanamin telling me I can sit on his lap. Baby, I'm 35 today and my friends don't care!”

“Honey.”

“Yes my darling wife.”

“Remember when I asked you 7 months ago what you wanted to do for your birthday?” You gently rubbed his back as he draped his large frame onto you.

“Mhm.”

“And every other time every month til yesterday even?”

Satoru turned to you, his lashes lightly brushing against your neck. “Yes.” he pouted.

“And remember when you said that the only thing you needed to celebrate was a full day of peace and some sweets with your sweet?”

“And you took me seriously! Of all the times to take me seriously baby, seriously.” He lifted himself and gently took you by the shoulders.

“So you don’t want to spend the day with me and eat homemade bon-bons and ice cream cake?”

“Any day with you is heaven my sweet goji berry,” Satoru planted a warm kiss on your temple and fished out his card to slide it into your bag.

“Tread lightly baby girl. I hear that ‘but’ coming.” you glared.

“No buts. Just how much I love yours.” He pursed his lips, almost duck lip like, for a kiss and you couldn’t help but oblige. You did the same, pursing your lips and met his before he embraced you.

“It won't take me long to get the things we need to make our bon-bons. I’m also going to stop by the mail station. I’ll be back soon.

“I can manage an hour by myself on my 35th birthday. I’m brave.”

You softly grabbed his chin. “The bravest. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kissed his cheek and left out the door.

“Not even a surprise from my boys,” he muttered, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “Unbelievable. I am maxing their Christmas list items to 15. They’ll see how it feels then.”  

As he wallowed, his eye caught something on the coffee table: a colorful flyer with bold letters.  

~~~"Citywide Scavenger Hunt! Follow the clues for an adventure to remember."~~~

A crooked smile broke across his face. “Well, well, well, what’s this?”  

Clue One was printed at the bottom:  

*"Where the storm passed and sweetness brewed, love first whispered, quiet but true."*  

Gojo tilted his head, pondering. It sounded oddly familiar. Shrugging, he grabbed his coat and headed out, intrigued despite himself.  

---------

The cafe was as quaint as ever, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It was the kind of place you could walk by a hundred times without noticing unless you were looking for it. Led by his own hunch, Gojo stopped in front of the window, his sharp gaze scanning the hand-written menus and neatly arranged pastries.  

At first, it didn’t click. He was about to walk away when the memory hit him like a stray curse punch.  “Storm, brew, whispers.”

“Ohhh, thiiiis place!” he exclaimed, startling a couple passing by. “This is where we hid from that rainstorm!”  

Satoru had put together a last minute picnic that got rained out within 5 minutes that day. He found the nearest cafe, where you’d spent 4 hours giggling and establishing the relationship you now had.

He stepped closer to the window, remembering how you’d insisted on ordering for him. You’d teased that he was “sweet enough” for a matcha latte—a line he hadn’t let you live down for weeks. And that day...  

“That’s right,” he whispered to himself. “That was the first time I wanted to say ‘I love you.’”  

On the window, taped neatly near the corner, was the next clue:  

*"Where koi dance and words lingered long, love spoke bold, with hope it belonged."*  

Gojo’s lips quirked upward. “Koi pond, huh? You’re making me work for this, aren’t you?”  

He reached for his phone to text you but stopped himself. If this was your doing, he didn’t want to ruin it by cheating. Instead, he turned on his heel and made his way to the park.  “City wide scavenger hunt my ass. My baby loves me!”

________ 

The koi pond glistened under the afternoon sun, tiny ripples reflecting light like scattered diamonds. Gojo meandered along the path, hands in his pockets, until he spotted someone sitting on a familiar park bench.  

“Nanamin!” Gojo shouted, startling a flock of pigeons nearby.  

Nanami barely flinched, his attention fixed on a book he held in one hand.  

“What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve finally realized I was right on how much sun you need? You’re welcome!” Gojo plopped down beside him, grinning ear to ear.  

Nanami sighed audibly, closing his book with deliberate slowness. “I’m going to let you talk because it’s your birthday. But please, be quieter.”

Gojo seemed surprised at  Nanami remembering the best day of everyone’s life. Though the appreciative look stopped once he recalled his own complaints from this morning.

“So you DO remember my birthday, Nanami.”

“Hard to forget the day that changed the course of history, Gojo.”

“And yet,” Gojo pulled out his phone, pulled up his call logs and shoved the phone in Nanami’s face. “I receive not even a quick call to celebrate my great entry into this world.”

Nanami closed his book as he turned to Gojo. “I have been busy this morning. And you’re 35. The fruit basket I’m sending will be enough.”

“The only thing that will be enough is if you let me sit in your lap.” Gojo batted his eyes as if he were flirting to save his life.

“No.”

“Pleeeeease. It’s just 5 seconds of lap time.”

“No.” Nanami deadpanned.

After 18 years of knowing one another, Nanami was fully aware that this wasn’t going to be the last time he’d be asked this. Mostly because this was the 56th time being asked and Gojo seemed desperate.

The blonde sighed and patted his leg. “You have eight seconds. Then immediately get up or i’m pushing you off.”

Gojo’s face lit up like a kids and jumped into Nanami’s lap. He sat still then after only 4 seconds, Gojo stood up. “Eh. That was underwhelming.  A bit of a waste.”

 Before Nanami forgot why he was there, he reached into his inside suit pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Take this before I forget my promise of being kind to you.”  

He handed Gojo the envelope, his expression as unreadable as ever.  

Gojo opened it, pulling out another neatly written clue:  

*"Where koi dance and words lingered long, love spoke bold, with hope it belonged."*  

“Wait a second.” Gojo stared at the pond. Memories flooded back—You and him sitting here late one evening, legs brushing as he rambled about some silly story. You laughed and he looked over at you, his heart unexpectedly full, and blurted it out.  

“Hey, this is the place I told them I loved them,” he said, grinning. “This time I said it and they said it back! Pretty sure they cried. Tears of joy, of course..”  

Nanami gave him a flat look. “You’re unbelievable.”  

“Thank you!” Gojo chirped, standing up. “So, is this whole thing their idea?”  

Nanami didn’t answer, simply picking up his book again.  

Gojo wagged a finger at him. “You know something, don’t you? But fine. I’ll play along.”  

As he walked away, Nanami muttered under his breath, “They deserve a medal for dealing with him.”  

-——————-

The rooftop was quiet except for the faint hum of the city below. Gojo stood by the edge, gazing out at the skyline. It wasn’t the most impressive view in Tokyo, but it was meaningful. He remembered this spot vividly: the night you both had huddled under a single blanket, sipping canned coffee as the stars struggled to shine through the city lights only a few days after his fight with Sukuna.  He smiled at the passing birds and the sound of the bustling city below.

“Hey, are you just going to stand there looking like a complete dumbass?” a voice called out.  

Gojo turned to see Utahime leaning against the rooftop door frame, arms crossed.  

“Utahime! Long time no see. Are you here to confess your love for me too?”  Gojo joked as he took a step away from the edge.

She rolled her eyes, walking over to him. “No. I’m here because I was asked to hand you this.” She held out another envelope.  

Gojo took it, but not before giving her a cheeky grin. “So, you do care about me. I knew it.”  

“Just open the damn envelope,” she snapped.  

The note inside read:  

*"Where stars met our gaze and silence spoke, love stood firm, unbroke. Now make your way to the place that holds the memories old and untold."*  

Utahime smirked at the way his expression softened. “It’s cute, honestly. How whipped you are.”  

“Excuse me,” Gojo said, straightening up, “I am not whipped. I am simply... deeply adored. By many.”  

“You look like a lovesick puppy reading that note. Whipped.”

“I don't have it in me to be whipped. I’m a little too masculine for that.”

“Whatever you say, you lovestruck idiot.” She shook her head, waving him off. “Try not to trip over yourself getting to your next destination.”  

Gojo pinched her cheek  before heading out, his heart racing now.  

---

Gojo unlocked the door to your shared apartment, and his jaw dropped.  

The living room was transformed. Balloons hung from the ceiling in shades of blue and white, streamers looped along the walls, and a table was set with delicate china, tiered trays of sandwiches, macarons, and cakes. In the center of it all stood you, holding a teapot, your face glowing with excitement as his friends and former students stood around singing happy birthday.

“Happy Birthday, my sweet Satoru,” you said warmly.  

For a moment, he didn’t move. He took it all in—the decorations, the scavenger hunt, the care and thought behind every detail. Then, with a burst of energy, he swept you into his arms, spinning you around.  

“You’re incredible!” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “All this for me?”  

You laughed, holding onto his shoulders. “Of course. I wanted to surprise you with something fun. Those places weren’t random, you know.”  

“I know.” He set you down, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he held your face gently. “Those were the places I told you had moments I fell for you all over again. Every single time.”  

Your smile widened. “I hoped you’d remember.”  

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget anything about you?”  

-—————

The tea party was everything Gojo didn’t know he needed. Nanami sat stiffly in one corner, grudgingly eating cake telling Yaga of the koi pond. Utahime sipped tea with Shoko, who had brought a bottle of sake "just in case." Even Megumi had been coerced into attending, sitting quietly as Gojo tried to shove a macaron into his mouth.  

Throughout it all, Gojo’s eyes kept drifting back to you. You, who had orchestrated this entire day. You, who had filled his life with meaning he hadn’t known he needed.  

As the guests left and the apartment quieted, he pulled you into his arms once more.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere.  

“For what?”  

“For loving me,” he said simply. “And for reminding me why I love the life I have with you.”  

You smiled, resting your head on his chest. “Happy Birthday, Satoru.”  

For once, Gojo didn’t have a witty comeback. He just held you, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.  “Happy Birthday to me.”

[moonseonghwa]

Repetition - Choi San

part two to rewind

word count: 3k

warnings: soft dom!San, sub!reader, messy friends with benefits, unprotected sex (don't please), oral (m. receiving), orgasm denial? praising (lots of it)

ateez masterlist buy me a coffee?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You waited in the cafe down the street, your fingers tapping on the dark brown wooden table subconsciously as you were listening to the bustling atmosphere. The coffee shop was just next to campus, making it a hotspot for students that were on the edge of their seats, studying for the midterms which were currently pressuring you just as much. 

You, in contrast, were waiting for your best friend to show up. Already having ordered his iced americano, with a brownie on the side, you noticed the familiar grey coat through the window, before the man entered the cafe. He spotted you, waved, before walking to your table. He was dressed in light-washed jeans, a white t-shirt, and the grey coat he likes the most. The grey coat you chose for him went you went shopping together. 

You smiled at him, closing your laptop as he sat down. “Hey” He said, giving you a high five. 

“How was the exam?” You asked, pushing your laptop into your bag before leaning your head on your hands, giving him full attention. 

“Awful, think I failed this one” He pouted, smiling after he took a sip of his coffee. “This coffee is good, how come we’ve never been here before?”

You and San usually go to another spot to drink coffee together. You live with him, but with both of your busy schedules you don’t actually see him that much, so you both agreed to do something together. He called it ‘quality time with my favourite person’ and you wondered if he really meant the words. 

San was a person that didn’t enjoy change too much, in contrast to his late-night rendezvous which did change every time. You’ve known him for a long time, but he still remains a mystery to you. A person that says A then follows his words with an action that screams B. You don’t mind though, you like figuring it all out. Figuring all of him out.

And in contrast to the man sitting in front of you, you loved change. 

“Just saw this place yesterday, I believe it opened last week” 

He hummed. “How’s the assignment?” 

“A mess, I could’ve just handed in something blank” You sighed, falling back against your chair.

“We’re both doomed then” He chuckled, making you smile at the dimples showing on his cheeks. 

You two actually hadn’t talked about what happened after that day, not knowing how to initiate another action, probably too scared to give in to the tension. You sometimes go back to that night in your head, imagining the feeling of his fingers on your skin and his lips on yours, wishing he was with you when you couldn’t get yourself to feel that amount of pleasure again. 

You did notice that San hadn’t brought another girl to your apartment, either he stopped bringing them, or you just didn’t notice when he did.

“Y/n?” You were pulled out of your thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“I asked if you want to head back to the apartment to study in there, I didn’t bring my laptop.” He said, emptying the cup after you nodded, feeling your cheeks burn at your thoughts. 

-

Back at the apartment, you made yourself tea first. 

It has been raining for the past week, and the apartment was toned dark and cozy now. San bought scented candles, and he lit them up immediately after you got back.  He loved scents, which was evident in the kinds of colognes he owned, each with its own vibe. Each matches an aspect of his personality. 

With the tea ready, you placed one glass on the coffee table for San, him thanking you before you sat down on the couch, burying yourself in blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you, typing away one of his own assignments.

You were too exhausted to study, so you spend your time watching a drama on your phone. With the number of blankets on, you still felt your body freezing, so you got up, heading towards the bathroom to take a hot shower. 

‘’Where are you going?’’ He said, already missing your presence close to him. 

‘’Shower’’ You said, closing the bathroom door behind you after you got some clothes out of your room. 

You sighed when the warm water hit your tense muscles, turning the knob a bit hotter, making steam cloud the bathroom.  It was the best feeling, a hot shower after a long cold day. 

After a good thirty minutes in the shower — which you desperately needed, in your defense— you stepped out of the shower. The bathroom mirror was fogged as a result, and you brushed your teeth after blow-drying your hair (and the mirror, too). 

With a fresh pair of clothes, you walked out of the bathroom, straight into your own room as you were ready to wind down for tonight. You and San had picked up dinner earlier on the way to the apartment, and with the clock hitting 8 p.m you started finishing up some assignments in your bed.

A few hours later, you felt yourself grow hungry though. So you peeled off the blanket, making your way to the kitchen. San wasn’t in the living room, probably asleep as he needed it for the exams tomorrow. 

You made yourself cereal, eating it while leaning on the counter as you scrolled on your phone, before hearing San’s door open. You looked at him, hair messy and pajama pants on. 

‘’We meet again’’ You chuckle at his comment, taking another bite of your cereal. You tried to hide how your mind flashed back to that one night, and what happened in particular. 

‘’Hungry too?’’ You asked, turning your body around to face him as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

‘’Just thirsty’’ He said, eyes lingering on you a bit too long for you not to notice and you saw them drop to your lips for a few seconds before he put on a smile and started walking away. 

You hummed in response, going back to your finishing your food when you heard him enter his room again. 

Back in your room, you couldn’t help but think about him again. He looked extra good tonight, and you felt yourself grow needy for his touch. 

And as if he felt your pull, you hear a knock on your door. ‘’San?’’ You asked, surprised at him entering.

‘’Can I join you?’’ He asked, making your eyes widen as you struggled to speak. You kept quiet for a bit, feeling as if minutes were going by before you uttered out the words. 

‘’Yeah, sure’’ 

He smiled at you, getting in bed as he took your form in his arm. He was warm, you wondered if he ever felt cold with his body temperature. 

You were a bit shocked, wondering where the change of feelings came from. ‘’You okay?’’ 

‘’Yeah, just needed this’’ He placed a kiss on your neck, lingering his lips on the spot a bit longer. Your breath hitched, feeling your body on fire as his hands were on your skin. You sighed, pulling him closer. You pulled the blanket over him so he was covered too, as his lips were pressed against your neck.

‘’Have you been…thinking about it?’’ Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you felt him smile in your neck. 

‘’About what?’’ He teased.

‘’You know, the other night’’ 

There was no way he didn’t, with the way he lingered around you the past days, almost not leaving your side whenever you were together with him. 

‘’I think about it more than friends should’’ He replies, towering over you as he held your chin in his palm. ‘’Late at night, when I figure you’re already asleep, or even in class when I get a text from you’’ 

His lips ghosted over yours, brushing against them but keeping enough distance so you weren’t able to kiss him. His other hand was around your waist, slowly bringing your bodies closer to each other. You could feel him growing against you, making you sigh as your eyes fluttered close. 

‘’What do you think about’’ You asked, breathing heavily. 

‘’The way your skin feels against mine’’ He started, his fingers brushing down to your lower back. ‘’The way you clench around me when you’re about to come, and what it’ll be like when I can have you shake under my touch again’’ 

‘’Do you think about it, baby? Does it get you off?’’ He added, a teasing smile on his face. 

You shook your head no. ‘’Only you can get me off’’ You said, looking in his eyes to see them darken. 

‘’Yeah? Only me?’’ He whispered against your lips, ‘’You’re mine, then, right?’’ He placed a peck on your lips, and you almost moaned because of his words. 

‘’Say it, baby’’

‘’Yes, all yours’’ You whined, not able to lean in more because of his fingers holding your chin back. ‘’Please kiss me, San-’’ 

He pressed his lips against yours, hard. The grip on your waist kept you steady as he devoured your lips as if there was no next time. You were only wearing a t-shirt and panties, so it was easy for him to open up your legs, settling between them as he slowly started grinding into you

His hand went between your legs in no time, opening them up and humming in delight when he felt how wet you were. Without a warning, he pulled down your panties, taking them off you easily. 

His finger gathered the wetness before moving to your clit, stimulating there as you moaned into his mouth, struggling to focus on kissing him as you was making you feel so good already. The pent-up sexual frustration finally seemed to settle down, making it feel so so good. 

You pulled down his sweats and underwear before your hand wrapped around his erection, jerking him off lazily as he breathed out a sigh against your mouth. You noticed how much your touch affected him, wanting to hear more of it as you slowly pushed him backward, noticing his surprised face at your sudden moves. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ He asked.

‘’Want to taste you’’ 

You got down on your knees, making him shift in position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Holding his thighs, before tracing your hand over the tattoo right above his knee your head went up to his tip, teasing slowly with kitten licks as he threw his head back. 

One of his hands went to the back of your head, the other one behind him on the bed as he moaned out at the contact.

 He was painfully hard, just looking at you on your knees for him, ready to take him as your mouth wrapped around his length.

‘’Good girl, fuck, just like that’’ He praised as you started bobbing your head up and down, taking him as far as you could without gagging. He was big, so it was hard not to. 

You twirled your tongue around the tip, igniting a low groan from him that went straight to your core, before wrapping your hand around the part your mouth couldn’t get to.

He held your head steady as he slowly bucked into your mouth, mumbling a quick apology. 

You looked up at him, and he swore he almost came on the spot when you swallowed around him while making eye contact. 

‘’Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll come’’ He grunted, trying to keep composure as you tried your best to take more little by little.

‘’Come in my mouth, need to taste you’’ You said before focusing on his tip with your mouth as your hand did its work on the rest of his length. He looked so good, all fucked out because of your mouth, his wet hair falling on his head after he ran a hand through it. 

You took him once again, tip hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gagged around him, making you moan out as he felt the vibrations. ‘’Y/n, ah, gonna come’’ 

‘’You sure I can come in your mouth?’’ The need for consent made your heart warm as you hummed around him, spurring him on even more before his breathing intensified, whimpers leaving his mouth as he shot his load down your throat, moaning in bliss. 

You swallowed all of it, making him lean down as he placed a lustful kiss on your mouth. 

‘’You did so well, hm?’’ He praised, before helping you get up. 

You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you sat on his lap. He hummed in delight, before swiftly shifting you two, sitting back with his back against the headboard as his hand fell on your ass, pulling it back as his tip teased your entrance. 

‘’You want me now, huh?’’ He said, making you whine out a yes as you pushed your hips forward. ‘’Yeah? My good little girl wants a reward?’’ He massaged your ass, grinding your folds against his length as you were even able to get off like this. 

You didn’t expect him to enter you so quickly though, feeling all of him inside you as he stretched you out. ‘’Answer me’’

‘’Yes, Sannie, please’’ You moaned, grinding against him as you felt him slowly move inside you, making your head fall back at the overwhelming pleasure. 

He pushed you deeper into him, holding your waist steady as he started thrusting up from beneath you. He was insane, it made you crazy. His hand went up to your cheek, thumb placed against your lip before pushing it inside your mouth, making you moan as you looked into his eyes, taken over by pleasure. 

He kept the pace, speeding up a bit when your moans got louder, igniting you got closer to the edge. He pulled the thumb out of your mouth, making you drop your head on his shoulder when he used it to rub slow circles on your clit. 

He ground into you slower, the pace making you feel him everywhere. He kissed you, pushing in his tongue, silencing your moans as you could feel your high approaching. 

‘’Hold it’’ He ordered, making you bite your lip as you struggled to. 

‘’I can’t’’ You whimpered, not able to stop the pleasure, and you felt the high dangerously approaching, trying to focus on holding it back but failing miserably. 

He stopped moving, feeling you clench more and more as it let him know you were almost too close, leaving you whining as he pulled out of you before turning you around, placing you on the bed and placing your lips on his. He kissed you intensely, before slipping inside again and continuing the circles on your clit. 

‘’Ah- San, please let me-‘’ You weren’t able to finish the sentence, too consumed by the pleasure. 

‘’Come’’ He simply said, snapping his hips into you faster as you let out a string of moans of his name. The pace was brutal, but delicious as it was exactly what you needed right now, to let him fuck the stress out of you. 

You let the pleasure take over, finally able to release as he stilled inside of you, grinding you through your orgasm as he kissed your throat. With a few more snaps of his hips, combined with the clenching you did around him and the beautiful moans of yours filling his ears, he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his come. 

Your breaths were heavy, coming back from the extreme high you just had. San pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your lips as he smiled against them. Your heart swelled at his soft touch, stroking your sides in an attempt to soothe your sore skin.

‘’You did so good’’ He said, placing another kiss on your cheek, making you blush as you hid your face in his neck. Skin-to-skin like this felt like you were lovers, two people who shared this kind of intimacy to another level. 

He pulled out of you a few minutes later, making you wince. He left the room, and your eyes were fighting to stay open. When he came back, you had failed, flinching at the feeling of a wet towel between your thighs. 

‘’Just cleaning you up’’ He said, before walking back to throw the towel in the laundry. 

‘’Wanna sleep in my bed? We should change these sheets tomorrow’’ He chuckled, making you nod with a smile on your face as he pulled you up in his arms, carrying you to his room before handing you one of his shirts to wear, just like you always did. 

He crawled in beside you after he put on fresh boxers, before pulling you close to his warm body. 

And you hated it, but you could feel yourself leaning into him more and more, every day you spent with him. He was your best friend and someone who knew you best, so you just hoped that this whole situationship wouldn’t affect your feelings towards him enough that it would eventually hurt you or him. 

But maybe it was already too late for that. 

@atxxzist surprise🤭

[redamancy-writes]

The Lost Boys (1987) x Fem! Reader - Blood Bag

AN: Hello! This is my first time writing for The Lost Boys, so I hope you all enjoy! Thank you @floral-and-fine​ for the support and the help working out some of the details on this ❣️

Word Count- 1383

Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987 

Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x Female! Reader

Title- Blood Bag

It wasn’t often that you saw your boys fight, where their playful banter turned serious and fangs elongated and eyes turned that golden yellow that sent chills up your spine.

“You got to feed from her yesterday, man,” Paul growled from next to you, hand on your thigh as he argued with Marko, “I’m thirsty too.”

“We’re all thirsty, Paul,” David scowled from his wheelchair, hands gripping the armrests to physically restrain himself. “It’s not your turn.”

“(Y/n) isn’t an object,” Dwayne chimed in, despite being on edge and tensed he was the only one who was thinking rationally as he took in the smell of fear from you.

The more tense they got, the more on edge you got. Like a bunny cornered by a wolf, ready to dart out the next opening it could find.

“I never said she was,” Paul’s grip on your thigh tightened, making you wince.

What made these fights the worst was that they always centered around you. You wished that they would be able to push their hungers aside and talk rationally, however, as a human you thought best to not butt in to their arguments. Until now, as Paul’s grip became bordering painful as his elongated nails dug into the meat of your thigh.

Gripping his hand in your own, you paid Marko’s new argument no mind as you carefully pried Paul’s hand off of you, frowning at the indents in your skin.

“You boys do know I’m not the only human in Santa Carla, right?” You broke their argument, even though saying the words themselves made an anxious pit form in your gut.

You just wanted them to stop fighting, to satisfy their hunger and come back to you as the playful, soft- not that David would ever admit it-, kind people that they usually were around you.

They were hungry, needing blood to fill their appetite and some nights even draining an adult person wasn’t enough for their bellies. Sharing itty bitty ounces of your blood between them wasn’t going to cut it. Not in the long-term, anyway.

“Why don’t you just go drink from someone else? Or multiples,” You anxiously began to fiddle with Paul’s fingers as the cave grew eerily quiet.

You thought the fight had now been done and over, as they all stared at you wide-eyed. You interpreted it as a look of astonishment, a ‘how could we not have seen this before’ until Marko spoke up.

“(Y/n)...” He breathed out, almost like a whimper.

“Why would you suggest that?” David asked, his own expression going neutral again but as his eyes shifted from yellow back to the lovely icy blue tone you adore, you could see the sadness behind his gaze.

You shrugged, keeping your gaze down at your hand holding onto Paul’s, “I can’t meet your needs, not even close,” It hurt to say it, your heart stinging as you admitted out loud that you can’t provide for them in an equal manner in which they provide for you. They took you in when you had no one, provided you a safe haven of warmth and security.

“I know I can’t, and it would be easier for you all to find a donor or even to just find someone to drain like how you did before,” You kept your head low, avoiding their stares.

“Besides, like you’ve said before David, I’m just a blood-bag right?” You felt the back of your eyes sting, “You can just replace me, or add in someone else to this equation.”

David stood from the wheelchair, the definitive sound of his leather trench coat signaling that he was approaching you before his boots spilled into your line of sight.

“Look at me, little one,” He softly ordered, and of course no matter how upset you were, you followed it. Looking up to him, you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to look nonchalant.

“I thought we made this clear, you are the only one we will feed from.”

Feeding.

That word again.

A blood source from them, an easy way for them to fill their bellies before running whatever errands Max had for them.

Each time that word spilled from their lips, you wanted to yell out that you weren’t just food. You thought that there was something more between you all, the soft looks and gentle caresses.

Dwayne’s gentle hold on your body as he asked permission before piercing your flesh, Marko’s thumb rubbing on your exposed flesh before his nose ran along the vein, David’s hand cupping your cheek while he asked if you felt alright after, Paul pulling you against his chest so you can nap off the fatigue- acts oh so intimate.

But maybe…Maybe you were naive. Looking too far into those small acts.

“Yeah,” You looked from his gaze towards the fountain, frowning as the word ‘feed’ and all of its variations played in your head. “You like my blood, you’ve said it before.”

Marko approached now, sitting on the other side of you.

“No, (Y/n),” Marko made you look at him as his fingers tilted your chin towards him. “Not just because your blood is delicious, because you are you.” His words made your brow furrow

“The only girl we’d ever want,” Dwayne chimed in, still giving you space but the fond look in his eyes made heat rise to your cheeks.

“I don’t understand, I don’t get what this means,” You looked between all four of them, your brow still furrowed and your lips pulled into a pout.

Paul laughed, not mocking or harsh as he interlaced his hand with yours. “Boys, we haven’t been clear enough, she needs us to spell it out.”

“Spell what out–”

“You’re our mate,” David spoke, and when you looked to face him you expected a smirk on his face, his signature cockiness and arrogance on display as the leader of the group- but no, his expression was soft.

“I’m your what–”

“Our mate,” Dwayne piped up, now approaching. “Not our buffet, not our blood bag,” Dwayne’s eyes cut over to David who turned his face away with a huff. “The one we cherish with our heart and seek out above all else.”

“Your mate…” The words felt foreign on your lips, but they made your belly feel warm and full as Marko made a sound of agreement from beside you.

“We will work out the feeding issue,” David made a pointed look to Paul and before he could say another word, Marko beat him to the punch.

“But please don’t ever question your standing with us, and why we want you around.” Marko grabbed ahold of your unoccupied hand, lacing it with his own.

“Do you understand now, little one?”

“I think I do.”

“Good,” David leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head. “Now, we’ll be back,” David stood to his full height. Would their victims taste like garbage in comparison to your sweet crimson nectar? Absolutely. However, they needed to satiate their blood thirst, and you needed alone time to deal with this information.

“When will you be back?” You couldn’t help but ask, not used to being left behind.

“Soon, we’ll bring you back some (F/Food).”

And as they each gave you their own personal farewell, you couldn’t help but fidget in place.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Dwayne said, lifting up your hand to kiss at your knuckles.

“You promise?” Fear still lingering that this whole conversation was somehow one grand prank and they’d come back with another woman, declaring her as your replacement then laughing at you for believing them.  

Dwayne paused, looking into your eyes. “I promise, we will always come back to you.”

A soft smile blossomed on your face as he swore they would return, the sincerity in his eyes melting your concerns as you nodded and reached out to grab one of Paul’s cuddle blankets.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” Your words had an underlying meaning as you snuggled into the surprisingly clean material, eager to discuss more about this mate situation when they came back.

“We wouldn’t dream of it, sweet cheeks.” Paul winked at you before Dwayne pushed him up the stairs.

- 

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[marimayscarlett]

I seem to be haunted a bit by bad luck on here - prepared an answer for an ask yesterday, but instead of posting it, Tumblr swallowed the ask and it's nowhere to be found. Since I always type my answers in a Word document, I still have it and answer it in a proper post. The ask was signed with "RZK obsessor", so if that's you, here's your answer to your ask 🔎 which was something along the lines of:

Anon: Can you confirm the existence of RZK?

Hi 👋

Now ☝ Getting to the bottom of this kind of fundamental question does require a bit of a planned approach and care. So, at the start of the research process, one should ask which approach and research path to take when tackling this question: the philosophical route, the one of scientific research, or perhaps one's own wealth of experience? I’d say, let’s just go with all three.

Philosophical thoughts on the existence of our beloved Richard

From a philosophical standpoint, one must first ask - are we dealing with Richard as a tangible, real entity, or is this a collection of idealized versions of fundamental concepts? Wishful and idealistic projections designed to show just how diverse a single individual can be? Included in this are the epitome of confident presence on stage:

the audaciously good looks in every kind of stage outfit, be it leather, dramatic coats, feathers or questionable sleeves (wet or not):

and the efortless serving of rock star attitude, no matter how tight the clothing:

as well as exuding the most cozy vibes in rather eyebrow-raise-inducing attire:

Richard embodies so many concepts in one person that it’s hard to believe such traits can coexist in a single individual - perhaps Richard is Schrödinger's guitarist? Simultaneously existing and not existing, until you see him live and promptly lose all sense of composure...

2. Scientific research and evaluation of existing data on the topic of the existence of Richard

Like any good scientist, one must disclose the sources used and where one has gained knowledge and insights in order to report on their research in a credible manner.

To get to the bottom of the question of Richard’s existence, I have spent nearly the last 10 years meticulously studying every music video and their corresponding making ofs to the point where I can recite every line by heart (even the ones that make me want to sink into the ground out of secondhand embarrassment - "so ein Gesäuge", I’m looking at you). I went to the cinema three times to analyze Richard's presence on the big screen, absorbed recordings of live performances to examine and cross-reference his alluring movements on stage, and created a seven-page long table in Word to organize his interviews by date and topic, tracking his statements and quotes - I mean, quotes like the following have to be proof that this man exist, who else could express things like that so calmly, right?:

Every fur frog tastes different. Pure question of taste. There is no judgment in the text. We’re not saying it stinks.

I believe the music itself must be the king, but I want to be the queen.

The result of this research so far: Things are looking pretty good that Richard actually exists! But I understand what you mean - sometimes it’s hard to believe that this person truly walks, no, struts among us on this earth.

That’s why I had no choice this year but to take my research to the active side of things. Which brings us to:

3. The fan experience as a way to proof his existence once and for all - with my own two eyes

Even though we have countless recordings at concerts of him, from the 90's:

to the 2000s:

all the way into the 2010's:

to today:

it’s still hard to truly grasp that he exists in flesh and blood. Even I sometimes catch myself looking at pictures of him and thinking, “Wow… he actually exists! He’s real!”, fascinated anew every single time.

This year, as part of my research, I was fortunate enough to practice my research in the Feuerzone three times, and I must say: the moment Richard stepped onto the stage, I was often left speechless. He has an incredibly majestic presence, very focused and fully immersed in his role as the serious rock star - with moments of warmth (towards his band mates) and small glimpses into his thoughts (the annoyed look he gave in Dresden when he forgot his pyro arm for DRSG was so expressive; he rolled his eyes so hard, he surely could see into his brain). I was utterly captivated and thoroughly enjoyed watching him play and use iconic gestures (like during Du hast 👆☝✋👉), and to witness his presence and mannerism live on stage really was a highlight for me. Here's some of my research footage (grainy and shaky, and please be aware of me screaming, but all in the name of science):

After this intense period of dedicated research, I can confidently say: You don't confirm Richard's existence - you witness and experience it 😌

[mrs-snape5984]

“There is no other love, it's only yours…”

“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)

Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄

In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.

When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!

So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.

I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!

Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.

Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤