#instead he gives away his position both by constantly talking and shooting to take out the shadows about to kill soap

[s0fter-sin]

god the way ghost’s voice drops when he tells soap, “you’ll need to improvise to survive”

before that, everything he says is steady but when he acknowledges that soap’ll have to do something outside his skill set, something he intimately knows to be difficult, his voice wavers. he does the same when he says, “welcome to guerrilla warfare”; it’s sombre and serious in a way he doesn’t act for the rest of the mission. if you read into it enough, he almost sounds apologetic; like he knows exactly what soap’s about to go through and wishes he didn’t have to

he keeps soap going; poking at him and making jokes, giving him tips and asking about his progress. he never lets him stop and take a second to think bc he knows the moment he does is the moment it'll all hit him; the betrayal, the pain, the fear, the deaths, all of it will drown him and if that happens, soap won't make it

he needs him to be a soldier through and through and he knows this is one of the worst kinds of battlefields you could end up on

and the only times he slips is when he acknowledges that fact

it happens again when he says, "tryin' to get you here alive and in one piece". his jovial dark humour facade drops for just a moment when he has to face the potential reality of losing soap. then he tries to pick it back up again with, "one of us has to survive to tell the tale"; completely discounting himself as a survivor to try and rally soap and make him think it’s all down to him

and soap does the same thing

when he's calling out for ghost on the radio, he's tentative, testing the frequency, then when he doesn’t get a response, he grows desperate; "ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?"

then when ghost answers, he smooths out his voice; he hides the pain, the fear, and no matter what response you give to ghost asking if he’s injured, soap brushes it off (“i’m good”, “what’s the difference?”, “i’m not a medic”). soap decides it’s in ghost’s best interest to hide the extent of his injuries

he doesn’t know where ghost is, if he’s secure, if he has any weapons; he doesn’t even know if he’s in las almas until he says, “there’s a church, i’m headed to it”. for all he knows, he could’ve run in the complete opposite direction. if ghost knows he’s hurt, then his attention would be split between his own survival and soap’s

and soap, who lets himself be poked and prodded towards the church, needs to hide his own doubts. maybe he needs ghost to believe he'll make it so he himself can believe it ("what are my odds?" "don't make me bet against you", "think i'll live that long?" "probably not")

he all but begs ghost to tell him he'll get through it and if he knows just how bad off he is, maybe he'll change his mind. maybe he'll think he won't make it to the church

maybe he'll leave him alone for good

"you injured?"

"i’m good"

"let's find out how good you are"

[oxygenbefore1775]

rotten endeavour

➼pairing: zeke x reader

➼cw: very grumpy zeke (he has his reasons), both of them are emotionally stunted idiots, tame mentions of injuries, canonverse

➼summary: worrying about zeke is a rotten endeavour sometimes but you persist anyway

➼wc: 4,3k

➼a/n: for a better understanding it's best to read this post first since this explains what boo-boo happened to zeke cuz he never explains it in the fic itself (fr, i mean it)

“You are the last person I'd come to for this.”

The first time you hear the words, they sound like a poorly veiled taunt, another reminder of the distance Zeke maintains between himself and you. Even when he chooses you, he ensures you're not honored by it.

“Usually Pieck or Porco assist me—”

But they're away on some military exercise, leaving you as the only option to him — the undesirable option. Even now, you sense it. In all the time you've been talking, never once did he turn to face you. His gaze constantly glosses over your features, fixating on anything in the room but you.

A surprisingly cold tone for someone hoping his beckonings would succeed in swaying you. His aloofness would gain him no favor, especially now, when you are the only one he could consider for help. Your favor — the word has a nice ring to it — and with it, your control over the decision. 

You cross your arms over your chest, pondering your options. 

“So you want me to walk you from the Titan research facility back to your home, that's all?” you lay it down plainly.

Rarely one for being interrupted, Zeke seems almost glad to hear you sum up his request concisely. A quick nod is all he deigns to reply with, as if his ability to answer with words has deserted him.

Surprised by his lack of rebuke, you quirk your brow at him. 

A short walk to the facility and back might exhaust an ailing elder, but certainly not the Chief of the Warrior Unit. You can’t help but to wonder what the possible explanation for this could be. Yet for the first time, you finally feel yourself in the position to demand one, instead of going along with his excuses as it often happens. 

“And what is the reason for this?” Your voice is on the verge of shedding its stoic tone. It feels almost wrong to ask something of him, not when he always keeps his answers so close to his chest, but you must persist. If he hopes for any of your help, he should give some common courtesy a try. 

It takes effort to cast your glance his way, silently demanding that he meet your eyes. To his credit, he obliges, but there isn't a sliver of the seriousness you had hoped to see.

“Should there be a reason?” he counters with a quip unbefitting his current position yet somehow so predictable, which brings your blood to a boil. 

Lacking the mood to entertain his antics, you do not relent in your inquiries. “With you, there usually is.” You don’t hide the skepticism in your blunt statement. 

At last, the finality of your reply compels a shift in his disposition. He glances at you, as if sizing you up, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he quickly looks away. As much as you’d like to brand it a silent re-consideration, you know him far too well to expect an immediate pliancy.

And it doesn’t come. 

He sighs, poorly hiding (or mimicking?) the exasperation you, apparently, have had the insolence to cause him. “Maybe I just want some company. Ever think of that?” You shoot him a look full of disbelief but before you can reply in the frankest way possible, he piles on, “Besides, aren’t you the one with the morbid fascination for my position? I thought you’d appreciate the chance to show me off.”

Even now he won’t say a thing. You wish you had enough annoyance in you to roll your eyes at his flippant tone but it all has burnt out and turned to simmering anger. Oh well, he is the only one to be poorer for it. You linger in your eloquent silence — a sign that Zeke would usually welcome, considering the plentiful history of your constant bickerings. But today it must have instilled him with something beyond the bland interest of having traded words with you. 

Before you are able to catch it, though, he turns away. The match, taken out of his pocket, hisses and burns, and the room is soon filled with the putrid scent of nicotine, the fog of smoke shielding his features from you. A cheap ploy, not to mention unpleasant for your senses. You are about to leave and free yourself from its presence when he suddenly speaks up. The next thing Zeke says is coated with a sentiment you never thought him capable of — nervousness.

“So, will you come?” Something in his voice falters, adds a yet unspoken urgency to his tone, and it urges you to hesitate, but not enough to break your silence.

You shoot him an inquisitive look in hopes to see the hint of the seriousness in his demeanor, but instead, he feels the need to ask you again, this time resorting to calling your name in his question. You can’t believe the distress you’ve caused in him with your lack of response alone. 

You purse your lips. Fuck him and his stubborness. 

“Sure.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He'd better express some sincere gratitude, and lots of it, for you sacrificing your only day off to assist him. Especially when the morning weather has left you yearning to wait it out in the warmth of your bed, not forced to endure it at the gates of the research facility as you are right now. The Marleyan soldiers haven’t allowed you in since — as if you need yet another reminder — you have no official relation to Zeke that would sanction your immediate presence.

Yet annoyance seldom takes deep roots in your heart, even if its target is as persistent as Zeke. If anything, the only thing that seems to stir the ire within you is the intensity with which he plagues your thoughts even at this hour. Stuck waiting at the gate, pondering about him is left as the only way to pass the time. 

Zeke would rather die than ask you for a favor. Barring the unlikely scenario of him developing a newfound fondness for your aid, there are only a few reasons for his shadow of an attempt to break down the walls around him and actually seek you out. One particular reason seems to lie over there, in the caverns of the facility where they could be doing who knows what to him. But what? What could instill him with more dread than being vulnerable for once?

With each of your guesses more sinister than the other, it takes you time to notice the gate screeching as it opens behind you. The sound of his steps is light but somehow his voice is even lighter when he greets you with the same loud words of his.

“Now, aren't you a welcome sight, patiently waiting for me all those hours of the morning? One might mistake this commitment for something only a spouse is capable of.” A hint of sneer finds its way into his tone but drops just as quickly. “Shame that the resemblance alone couldn’t secure your entry past the gates, where I very much needed your company.”

Before you can take in the sight of him, a retaliatory quip already leaps off your tongue. “You can tell that to the soldiers standing at the gate. While their sentiments mirrored yours, the words they chose to express to me were far from mindful.” 

Only then, you look at him. 

Zeke is pale, and awfully so. As if they have drained him of all the blood his body had to offer back in those sterile rooms. He himself, however, seemingly refuses to acknowledge his condition as well as the unprompted reaction of shock that it has elicited from you. 

Perhaps the thick fog this morning has distorted your perception of colors, you muse to yourself. If he himself doesn't display any concern for his own well-being, then you shouldn't either. However, you choose not to seek comfort in this excuse for an explanation. The faster you get to Zeke’s house, the less time you’d get to spend in his company, already pestering as it is.

Fearing that you may slip and mention his deathly complexion out loud, you decide to speak no longer, instead signaling him to take off. And he, for a change, lacks the rebuke to call you out on it. At least this one time you'd enjoy the ‘peace’ of his company, you note to yourself with distasteful glee — only to become disgusted with yourself moments after. It’s wrong to think that way — if not of Zeke Yeager, then at least of the honorary Marleyan.

His gait is neither fast nor steady. For every three steps you take, he manages only one — and even that requires a significant effort as he drags his feet and takes his sweet time before making the next move. If you weren’t there with him in the early hours of the morning, you would think that he is walking in the dark. Not devoid of basic compassion, you shoot him a tentative look. For all you know, darkness might be all he sees right now. In all the time you've been watching him, his eyes have never strayed from the invisible spot he’s fixed on.

As you walk side by side — or rather, as you slow your pace to match Zeke’s — you flinch at the sudden feel of his palm brushing against yours. It’s not just the touch, already as rare as it is for your… connection, but the coldness of it that surprises you. Somehow unaware of this, he persists in finding your palm repeatedly, unaware of the subtle withdrawals your hand makes time and again to evade the clammy grasp of his trembling fingers. He’s too close. He’s never been that close, for that matter.

Just as you are about to turn your head to him to voice your quite justified confusion with his unprompted proximity, you hear the soft rustle of his voice. 

“You wouldn’t be thrilled at the prospect of lifting my two-hundred-something-pound body off the pavement if I were to collapse right here,” he says, his blue eyes appearing haunting against his pallid face. “Better to take care of this now, while I’m still in the right frame of mind to warn you.”

The loquaciousness is of no help to him, especially now, when he looks like this. Yet his words still have a sway over you. Your gaze averted, you take hold of his arm instead of his hand. 

It’s quite difficult to walk now, with you fused together at the side and him eagerly leaning his weight onto your frame. At times, you contemplate sending daggers his way, but your intentions are swiftly repelled by the sight of his half-closed eyes. His lids twitch ever so slightly, as if his whole body is held in tension. 

You've never seen him in such a state. If it's true, if he really is in pain like you suspect — no display of nonchalance can fool you on that — it still leaves you perplexed. A rare witness to his injuries, considering all of them that you see on him quite so happen to be the ones you inflict upon him yourself in the heat of the moment, you are nonetheless keenly aware of one telltale sign betraying his hurt — a sign currently hidden from your view. 

Clouds of steam — not one visible to your eye. You want to ask but you're too apprehensive of his answer. If he will be able to answer you at all, given his state, that is. 

Just what have they done to him? 

How fortunate for you both that only a small distance lies between the research facility and Zeke's home. 

You come to a sudden halt at the sight of his front door. In a mere moment, he will disappear behind it, dismissing you to continue on your way. And afterward? You can't anticipate that someone so accustomed to enduring frequent physical hardships would possess the knowledge of proper self-care. His default course of action would likely be to wait it out — whatever ‘it’ may be. From what you can see, ‘it’ has only worsened for him.

“Now would be the absolute worst time for you to go back on your promise,” Zeke hisses through his teeth as your nails dig deeper into the flesh of your palm in hesitation. “Not just a few steps away from the house.”

“Watch me,” you shoot back momentarily, fiddling with the keys.

In a way, he is correct. It's just the level of your commitment to the promise that he is wrong about.

Standing at his doorstep, you ponder the sentiment that has driven you here. Perhaps you linger a bit too long for Zeke's liking. With the seclusion of his house so within the reach, he feels bold enough to reject your assistance and stagger past you. No, you would never feel such worry for Zeke Yeager, the thought settles in your mind. The holder of the Beast, though, is another matter entirely. There’s no strings attached to the concern a conscientious citizen would express about the well-being of the invaluable warrior, his regeneration be damned. A sense of relief washes over you as you pinpoint the exact reason for your lingering presence. You are simply here to watch over him, the honorary Marleyan, to ensure he doesn’t have the indecency to deteriorate further. That’s all there is to it.

He doesn’t object as you follow him into the house, he’s too preoccupied with making his way to the couch. Each step is unsteady, as if he's channeling all his focus into placing his feet just right. A grunt escapes his lips as he collapses onto the couch, his coat and boots still on. He buries his face in the crook of his elbow, away from the cold white light streaming in from the street.

The shallow ragged breaths he takes mirror the fluttering beats of your heart as you stand near the doorway, in an abashed contemplation of his form. 

“Why are you still here?” he murmurs, likely hearing you go deeper into the room to close the curtains rather than near the exit like he’d prefer. 

“Well, how do Finger or Galliard usually proceed when it comes to this point?” you counter, a soft rebuke finding its way into your voice. 

He takes his time to answer, spacing his labored breaths between each word. His response is laden with a finality you’re expected to pick up on. “They do precisely what they’re asked and leave,” he hisses. “Do you get a kick out of doing exactly what I told you not to?”

His voice, though quiet and almost breathless, still persists, as if his silence might jeopardize his perceived victory in the confrontation you two — apparently — are having. As much as the barbs of his words beckon your counter quip, you can’t find it in your heart to entertain it. There is no bickering to be had with the man who’s a hair’s breadth away from passing out from pain.

“And what then? What do you do after they’re gone?” you inquire further, emboldened by the lack of possible retaliation on his part.

Silence is the worst that he's capable of at this hour. And that's all you hear first, until a whisper reaches your ear. 

“This. Precisely this.”

You find no pleasure in being right, because it means that every time — and you don’t dare to venture an exact number — he’s been in the caverns of the facility, he’s been recuperating the same way he is now. On his own, with an injury apparently too grievous even for his regeneration to heal. "Zeke is no stranger to the mutilations his body has endured during his years of service to Marley, yet you’ve never heard of a single wound rendering him to the state you find him in right now.

“Oh, how viscous of me, then,” a smirk starts but fails to form on your lips as you struggle to keep your nonchalant composure, approaching the couch he is laying on. “Taking care of a man who’s too helpless to resist my nursing advances. Only a monster would be capable of such cruelty.”

Your remark doesn’t elicit any reaction from him. The serene expression of his features you’re so used to seeing is now shattered as you pry his arms away from his face to get his glasses off. Ever averse, he opens his eyes the moment he feels your touch on his skin. 

“What a rotten endeavor you’ve chosen for yourself,” he speaks with a sullen strain in his voice, “to pity me.” 

In the dim light, it’s hard to see clearly, but it appears that even his eyes have lost their usual brightness. Only the shadow of a smile that he manages to crack remains the same, ever playful. As much as he feigns annoyance, the inordinate amount of attention you give him still amuses him. 

“Not true. It’s not true,” you rush to counter him.

As if the redundancy would make your lie any less obvious.  

He doesn’t fight your advances anymore, not with words nor attitude, as he closes his eyes again and lets you slide the glasses off of him. The metal frames have left red dents on his nose and forehead, even more visible against his pale face now. His hair, a mess of damp locks clinging to his forehead.

Lying down seems to have provided some relief from the pain, whatever its nature may be. But not much. His ragged breathing and shivers ravaging his body are dead give-aways of that. He must be concealing from you the true extent of his suffering.

His voice rustles once again, but even in the deathly silence of the room, you have trouble discerning his words. Thus, he has to repeat himself, much to his chagrin. “A smoke, give me one.”

“I don’t think that—”

“I think that you are still here because of some noble notion to ‘take care’ of me,” Zeke lashes out in a whisper that somehow manages to sound brimming with frustration despite its weakness. “And the only thing that I want right now is a good smoke, so be so ‘caring’ as to give some to me.”

It’s strange to see him crippled with pain to such an extent. Maybe that’s why you pay no mind to his unusually quiet yet all-too-familiarly barbed outburst and refrain from mirroring his retorts. 

He finishes the first cigarette in under a minute, reducing it to a stump between his trembling fingers in a few deep drags. With his lungs saturated in nicotine, a semblance of calm finally settles into his breathing. Despite yourself, a sigh of relief escapes your lips at this sight. Without missing a beat, the second one is ignited. Nicotine is all he breathes. 

“I'm sure that there's something more interesting in the house to stare at other than this couch.” The puff of smoke carries his words. 

His hint falls on deaf ears. A begrudged plea is all you can recognize in the sound of his voice. 

You ponder for a minute, casting your gaze towards the very thing he'd like you not to look at. Perhaps it would be a good bet to let him endure the pain in the comfort of solitude with you keeping a close eye on him from another room. At least that way he will have to expend energy on healing, instead of employing a fruitless tactic to hold back his grunts and keep a straight face, like he is trying now. 

He doesn’t need you. He wants you gone. Even with the gravity of the situation in mind, you can’t help but to let his attitude cut deep. Broken and suffering, he wouldn’t dream of letting down his guard for you.

Fine. You’ll allow your sentiments to mirror his, then.

“Indeed,” you feign agreement. “It’s not like you’re a sight for sore eyes right now, anyway.”

You mean to hurt him, even just a little bit — a semblance of retaliation for what he’s put you through on this endeavor — but his emotionless facade doesn’t even budge. If anything, he appears glad at the mere mention of finally getting some alone time.

You infuse your voice with feigned incredulity to a painful extent, grateful that he's in no condition to pick up on it. “Well, I suppose even the shelves in your room could be a more welcome sight than this, especially with what happens to fill them.”

A flimsy excuse to leave his side, but he’s all too happy to take the bait. Your veiled ultimatum is accepted without a moment’s consideration as Zeke immediately shoots back.

“Yes, a lot of deficit stuff to read, so help yourself. Now get out.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cooped up in a room filled with the rarest books Zeke has collected from invaded cities for the past hour, you find yourself caring less for these spoils of war than you'd like to admit. All your thoughts are of the living room, of the warchief’s broken form on the couch.

You rush to the living room as soon as you hear his grunts still. For the briefest of moments you consider the possibility of him being dead, the regeneration having failed in ridding him of this invisible ailment, yet brush off the baseless assumption. Marley wouldn't do anything to cause the death of their wonder-warchief. Not for another five years at least. 

You have proven yourself right in the end. Without your persistent presence, his guard has dropped enough for him to fall asleep. A considerably better outcome to staying awake and aware of the pain. 

Entering the room filled with blue smog, your attention is immediately drawn to the ash-covered patch of flooring near the sofa. It all still smokes, fills the air with the nicotine stench from no less than half a dozen stubs, the smell so potent it stings your eyes, making them brim with tears. In the poisonous haze, it takes you a moment to make out the amber glint still nestled between his pale fingers — a lit cigarette, burning away. The ember laps at his skin, singeing and instantly steaming anew with regeneration. You ensure to take it from him and stub it out in the ashtray nearby. His body doesn’t need any more damage beyond that of the original mysterious ailment that’s led to his chain-smoking in the first place.

You have to admit there's a touch of morbid curiosity, if not concern, compelling you to contemplate his features and the impact that the shock from the last few hours has had on them. Usually his sleep is far too thin for this fit to work out in your favor. But now he barely registers your presence even as you sit down at the very edge of the couch beside him.

Even in his nicotine-fueled dream he fails to find rest. His body’s still full of pain-born tremble and tension. Yet you have to admit that he does look less deathly than a couple of hours ago. Neither pallor draining his complexion nor sweat beading his skin seem to be the case now. 

You’re glad, almost relieved even, to see him find some semblance of peace. With his body’s regenerative abilities, it's only uphill from here. At least until the next time he has to return to the facility. 

Another time that likely won’t come for you, given how your recruitment happened. And along with it, any chance for your curiosity to be sated, if it ever truly existed. No amount of pressing on your part would make him consider divulging any explanation for his compromised state to you — pressing that you are too prideful to conduct in the first place. 

In the quiet of the room, disturbed only by the sounds of his breathing and the occasional noise of the city coming from outside, you can’t keep your thoughts at bay. So you turn to him once again. The sight of his features, still heavy with sleep, brings you twisted comfort that you may sit here with him for a bit longer. You study him closely. For a moment, you’re even tempted to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead but restrain yourself. 

The redundancy of your altruistic intentions is truly laughable. A man of his gifts, known to be undeterred by the multiple loss of his limbs, would want for nothing when it comes to his health, let alone your feeble attempts to take care of him. And yet despite his regeneration, there’s a part of you that wants to help, no matter the futility of your efforts. But you know better than to expect gratitude or even acknowledgement. Zeke is not one to show vulnerability, and most certainly not one to thank you for witnessing it. 

And in the end, you’re always the one poorer for it.

The warchief’s quarters are much more quaint than yours, but there's no comfort in being here now. You recall the very reason you decided to stay instead of leaving immediately. With your intentions fulfilled and his sleep growing lighter, you desire to leave more than ever. You don’t want him to wake and his first words to you to be yet another remark at the sliver of affection you have for him. He doesn’t get to hurt you any more than he’s done today.

Only fools harbor hope — you care to remember that after the years of knowing him. But for your persistence today, you’ve been given a glimpse of the other Zeke. Even now, you can see a bit of that in him as he lies there, curled up on the couch, wincing ever so slightly at the light pouring in from the open front door. Once again, you stand at his doorstep in a moment of weakness, pondering one last thought before leaving. Maybe you're fine with being hope’s fool.

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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[parkerslatte]

Fun & Games [Chapter Three]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After getting up close and personal on a case, neither Y/N nor Spencer can get enough of one another.

Part Summary: Y/N and Spencer’s little deal they made comes into full affect - although they can't can't but tease each other a little beforehand.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut. penetrative sex. oral (male receiving). fingering. This series is an 18+ series. MINORS DNI

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***

CHAPTER THREE: DARE TO DREAM

The next morning at work was torture for both Y/N and Spencer. It was especially torture for Y/N as everytime she even stared at her desk, flashes of what had happened between them not even twenty four hours ago, crossed her mind. To make matters worse, her and Spencer had been subtly teasing each other all day. Occasionally Y/N would ‘accidently’ knock something off the edge of her desk and she bent over to pick it up, making sure to give Spencer a full view down her shirt. The look he gave her after was one of pure desire. Y/N let a smirk fall onto her face every time she was sure she had cleared all thoughts out of the genius’s head. 

However, Y/N wasn’t the only one doing a little teasing. About half-way through the day, Spencer had begun to do it back. When Y/N was in the kitchen area making herself a cup of coffee, Spencer came up to her. If it were anyone else coming over to make themselves coffee, they would have simply stood next to Y/N while claiming their mug from the cupboard above. Not Spencer however. He stood behind her, making sure to press his body against her as he reached for his mug. 

Due to the angke they were standing it didn’t look as if Spencer was pressed up against Y/N. To any onlookers it looked perfectly innocent but in reality it was far from that. Spencer’s hand snaked around Y/N to press her even closer to him as his lips brushed her ear. 

“Spencer,” Y/N muttered under her breath, “We’re in public. Anyone could see.”

“I know,” Spencer said quietly, “I’m only getting my mug just like you were picking up something you knocked over.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t exactly pushed up against you was I?” Y/N said, “Or maybe I should’ve, you would’ve liked that wouldn’t you?”

Spencer chuckled slightly before stepping to the side, “We need to make a deal.”

“Okay, what kind of deal?” Y/N questioned, taking a sip of her coffee.

“No more teasing for the rest of the day.” Spencer said.

“But I was having so much fun,” Y/N said, “But I agree. Knowing you, you’ll probably get caught.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked.

“You’re not exactly subtle Spencer Reid.” Y/N said.

“Well you’re not either,” Spencer said, “Accidently knocking something off your desk five times in an hour?”

“It was in the way and whenever I moved I knocked it.” Y/N said, obviously knowing that it wasn’t true.

“Yeah, okay…” Spencer said, obviously not believing her, “But seriously, no more teasing for the rest of the day.”

“You have yourself a deal.” Y/N said, offering her hand for Spencer to shake, a very similar action to the previous night.

“What are you two shaking on?” Derek asked, approaching the two friends.

“Oh, Spencer just asked me not to tell anyone about the person he hooked up with last night,” Y/N said as Spencer choked on his coffee, “This isn’t exactly breaking the agreement because I haven't disclosed a name.”

Derek smiled, “My man!” He said, clapping Spencer on the back.

“He has a hickey and everything.” Y/N muttered to Derek as she began walking away back to her desk.

With one glance over her shoulder she took in the scene of Derek questioning Spencer about the person he was with last night. Spencer caught her eye and sent her a small glare. Y/N only responded with a smile before sitting down at her desk to finish her work.

***

There wasn’t much paperwork left to do so that meant Y/N could go home early. Somehow she had finished before Spencer, mainly because he had spent the majority of the day being distracted and talking to Derek about the imaginary person he hooked up with. Packing away her things, Y/N headed over to Spencer’s desk, bending down to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“Come round my apartment at eight.” Y/N muttered, to anyone it just looked as if she were saying goodbye to him.

“I’ll be there.” Spencer said, turning his face slightly. 

Their lips were barely centimeters apart. Both of them wanted to give into their desire but they refrained themselves. If there was no one around, Y/N was sure that she would have pressed her lips against Spencer’s in a heartbeat. Instead she settled for a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see you later Spencer.” She said quietly before leaving the bullpen.

***

Y/N was simply relaxing on her couch with a book in hand. Although she wasn’t exactly paying any attention to it as she was too busy checking the time every few minutes. Spencer would be arriving any minute and the anticipation was killing her. Y/N wasn’t sure why she wanted to have sex with er best friend so bad. Maybe if they did it, it would make all the sexual tension they have had between them disappear. Ever since that one kiss while trying to lure the unsub, Y/N’s mind had been on Spencer almost constantly. She just hoped that the tension between them would disappear and they could just go back to being best friends again. 

At exactly eight there was a knock on Y/N’s door. Jumping up to her feet she headed over to the door although she waited a few seconds before finally opening it - not wanting to seem too eager. 

“Spence.” Y/N greeted with a smile. 

“Hey.” Spencer said stepping into her apartment. 

“So,” Y/N started, “How long did it take you to get through your work?”

“Longer than it should’ve thanks to you.” Spencer said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Y/N questioned.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Spencer mumbled stepping closer to her, “And now Derek believes that I hooked up with someone last night so that’s all he talked to me about.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer, “Well technically I wasn’t necessarily lying, just bending the truth a little,” Y/N leaned closer so her lips were right next to his ear, “But after tonight it won’t be a lie at all.”

Y/N leaned back to her original position. Her arms still wrapped around Spencer’s neck while he held her hips gently. There was a moment where both of them had no clue what to do. They were staring into each other's eyes and it was like both of them realised what was about to happen. 

Before either of them could back out, Spencer leaned forward connecting his lips with Y/N’s. She let out a small sound of surprise as she wasn’t expecting Spencer to make the first move. As she kissed him back, the grip Spencer had on her hips became more forceful. Y/N just knew that she would have light bruises there the next day - she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Y/N began to gently pull on strands of his hair causing Spencer to moan into her mouth. Smirking against his lips she tugged a strand of hair a little harder causing his moan to become louder. In response Spencer pulled her hips against his so she could begin to feel the start of his growing erection. Y/N let out a quiet moan as the arousal grew between her legs.

“You’re such a little tease.” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“Says you,” Spencer said, “Bedroom now.”

“Yes sir.” Y/N muttered as the two headed into her bedroom. 

As soon as they stepped through the threshold of the room, Y/N immediately lunged forward and kissed Spencer with a lot more passion than before. As she did so, she made quick work of the buttons of his shirt exposing his torso to her. Spencer shuddered as she began to rake her fingers down his chest until she pulled him closer by his belt loops. 

Spencer’s hands made their way under her shirt and began to pull it upwards, breaking their kiss so Y/N’s shirt could come off completely. Instead of latching her lips back onto hers, he pressed his lips on her neck as he gently sucked on the skin, making Y/N whimper out his name. 

As Spencer continued to kiss her neck, Y/N bgen to fiddle with his belt buckle, swiftly undoing it and unthreading it from his belt loops. While undoing the button, Spencer couldn’t help but lightly thrust his hips toward Y/N, the slight friction making him moan against ehr skin. 

“You like that, huh?” Y/N muttered, “What if I do this?”

Y/N pulled his trousers down to unveil his erection in his underwear. Lightly ghosting her hand over the bulge, Spencer’s hips thrust forward again, trying to gain any sort of stimulation. 

“This is exactly what you did to me last night,” Y/N said, “I’m just returning the favour.”

“Y/N…” Spencer moaned.

“Yes?” Y/N questioned.

“Please do something…” 

Y/N smiled slightly, “Only for you.”

Dropping to her knees in front of him, Y/N swiftly pulled his boxers down, letting his erection free. Looking up at him, Y/N gripped the base of his cock as she wrapped her lips around the tip. Spencer let out a loud moan as his hands came down to tangle in her hair. When Y/N began to bob her head back and forth, Spencer let out a string of curses.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t stop…” Spencer moaned out, unconsciously thrusting his hips forward into her mouth. 

Y/N moaned around him letting him continue to fuck her mouth, jerking off the base of his cock that didn’t fit. 

“Y/N- fuck- I’m close..” Spencer moaned, scrunching up his face in pleasure. 

Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic and Y/N tried to suppress her urge to gag, focusing on tipping Spencer over the edge. What tipped Spencer over the edge however was when he finally looked down and made eye contact with Y/N. As soon as their eyes met he felt his release shoot into her mouth. 

As he pulled out of her mouth, Y/N continued to look up at him as she swallowed the majority of his cum, some of it dripping on her chest. Standing up to her full height once again, she pulled Spencer in for a kiss. He could taste himself on his tongue. 

As she pulled the rest of his shirt off of his body, Spencer’s hands made their way around her back to unclasp her bra, letting her breasts free of their confindments. 

“Lie back on the bed.” Spence ordered and Y/N complied.

She flopped back as Spencer hovered over her, pressing his lips in the valley of her breasts. Spencer’s hands quickly unbuttoned her jeans before tapping Y/N on the leg to raise her hips so he could easily pull them off. Once her jeans were fully off, Spencer played with the hem of her underwear, which were currently soaking through with how turned on she was. 

“Spencer...please…” Y/N begged.

“Please what?” Spencer questioned, although he knew all too well what Y/N wanted. 

“Just do something, anything…” Y/N said, squirming around beneath him. 

Spencer chuckled as he began to pull Y/N’s underwear down her legs as slow as he possibly could to tease her even more. 

“Spencer, come on-” Y/N was cut off by Spencer’s thumb coming into contact with her clit. 

Y/N moaned out loudly as his thumb began to circle her clit, “Fuck, Spence, that’s it.”

Spencer only smirked before kissing across her chest until his mouth latched onto her nippled, erecting another moan from Y/N who had begun to let out a string of curse words under her breath as Spencer sunk two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

“Oh my god, please don’t stop.” Y/N panted as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of her.

Y/N bucked her hips up and Spencer gently pushed them down against the bed and held them there as he continued to suck on her nipple and finger her. 

“Spencer, I’m close, I’m gonna...I’m gonna come.” Y/N moaned.

Spencer released her nipple as his lips travelled up so his head hovered above hers, “Come for me.”

A loud moan fell past Y/N’s lips as she came all over Spencer’s fingers. Removing her fingers from her pussy, Spencer Spencer brought them up to his mouth before licking them clean. The sight of that alone nearly made Y/N come again. 

“Do you think you can handle another?” Spencer questioned.

“Just fuck me Spencer.” Y/N said, causing him to let out a quiet chuckle. 

“Do you have a condom?” He questioned.

“I’m on the pill, it’s fine,” Y/N said impatiently, “Please, I need you.”

Aligning himself with her entrance, Spencer pushed into her, electing a moan from both of them. Allowing her a moment to adjust, he began to thrust in and out of her gently. This didn’t cut it for Y/N.

“Spence, go faster.” Y/N moaned into his ear.

Complying with her demand, Spencer thrust in and out of her at a faster pace. Y/N moaned into his neck as she wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled him impossibly closer. As he continued to thrust in and out of her, he panted and moaned in her ear. 

“You feel so good.” Spencer moaned out, getting lost in the feeling of her clenching around him.

“Keep going Spence, don’t stop,” Y/N moaned, wrapping her legs around Spencer’s hips, allowing him to thrust deeper into her, “Feels so good…”

Y/N scratched down Spencer’s back as his thrusts became sloppier, signaling that he was close. 

“I’m close Y/N.” Spencer said, pressing his lips against hers. Her moans and whimpers only pushed him closer to the edge.

It only took a few more thrusts for Spencer to completely unravel. As he came, he moaned against her lips as he was tipped over the edge. The feeling of Spencer’s cum filling her up was enough to send Y/N over the edge as well. It was a feeling she had never experienced before. As the both of them came down from their highs, Spencer pulled out of Y/N before laying down on the bed next to her, breathless.

The two of them stared up at the ceiling before they turned their heads towards each other both letting out small chuckles. 

“Let me go and get cleaned up.” Y/N said before getting up off the bed, the feeling of Spencer’s cum running down her thighs. 

After cleaning up, she headed back into the bedroom and found Spencer shrugging on his boxers and picking up his clothes.

“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned.

“Getting changed, it’s late so I should be getting home.” Spencer said.

“So you fuck me then leave?” Y/N asked.

Spencer’s eyes widened, “No, it’s just that we have to be in work early tomorrow and it takes me at least an hour to walk to my apartment and I-”

“Relax Spence,” Y/N said, a smile forming on her lips, “I was kidding. And you can stay the night. What kind of friend would I be if I let you walk home after what we just did.”

“Thanks.” Spencer said, smiling.

“I’m pretty sure that you still have some clothes here,” Y/N said, “Unless you want to just sleep in what you're wearing.”

Spencer looked down at himself only in his boxers, “I’m sure this is fine.”

Y/N smiled before shrugging on a thin strappy top and some clean underwear and laid down in her bed, Spencer standing awkwardly to the side.

“Well are you going to join me?” Y/N questioned, “And before you even begin to argue you are not sleeping on the couch.”

Spencer got into the bed beside her and unconsciously pulled her against his chest, pressing a kiss against her neck.

“So that’s it then?” Y/N asked, “We go back to just being best friends?”

“That was the deal.” Spencer said, but he can’t help but let a feeling of disappointment wash over him.

“Okay, so friends we are Spencer Reid.” Y/N says, although her tone was slightly disappointed.

Pressing a final kiss against her shoulder, Spencer tightened his grip on her before the two drifted off to sleep, dreaming about each other.

----------

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[ttuesday]

Hello there! Thank you for writing all these amazing headcanons! <333 I get so much joy when there's a new post from ya!

I had a prompt in mind: what are the gang members like when they get reaaaaly drunk? Who gets sad & sentimental, who gets all funny and jokey, who is all sleepy, and etc etc etc?

now this is an interesting one hehe

Arthur

When Arthur's drunk, he does his absolute best to try to convince everyone he isn't that drunk. He tries to walk in a straight line to prove he’s ok but accidentally walks into Uncle.

He somehow has great hearing and joins in on every sing song within a five mile radius. Arthur could be talking to you on the outskirts of camp but if he hears someone singing by the campfire, he joins in immediately.

He gets into a very jolly mood when he's drunk and talks about anything and everything. He rambles on about so much he interrupts himself a lot.

If he's sweet on you then Arthur asks to hold your hand and he won’t stop holding your hand for the e n t i r e night. No matter where you go or what you do, Arthur will potter after you with his hand still holding yours. And whenever you look at him, Arthur has a big, proud smile on his face as he looks at your hand in his.

Charles

Who is this man? Where tf did Charles  go? He acts very differently than sober Charles. Whatever idea springs to mind, he wants to do it. If he wants to do interpretive dance in the middle of camp then that's exactly what he does or if he decides to go skinny dipping at 4am then off he goes, trying to find a lake or a river.

One second Charles could be laughing so much he's nearly crying, a second later he could start sobbing because he remembered that time he accidentally shot a lawman's horse when he was trying to aim for the guy. Please hug him.

It doesn't matter how drunk Charles is, he can still yeet anyone over Mount Hagen and he can go from fun and goofy to deathly intimidating in under 1.5 seconds.

And if you and Charles are dating then he just wants to kiss you. He kisses your temple all the way down to your jawline before kissing back up to your ear.

Dutch

Dutch gets quiet when he's drunk. He just kinda sits there and stares off in a daze for ten minutes. When someone talks to him, it's like he buffers for a few seconds before responding.

But when he starts talking, good luck trying to get Dutch to shut up. And this man needs everyone to stop what they're doing and give him all of their attention when he decides to say a speech. And if one person stops paying attention then Dutch storms off.

Dutch really does believe he's unstoppable when he's drunk. And if you don't believe him then don't worry, Dutch has no problem spending three hours explaining how all of his plans are apparently bulletproof.

If Dutch is sweet on you then he tries to flirt with you. But the more he drinks, the harder it gets for him to string a sentence together. "Your eyes..." he slurs his words but tries to stay composed "they remind me... of uh... eyes".

Micah

Micah is so goddamn laid back when he's drunk. Strangely people tend to get on with Micah when he's drunk but by the time he's sober again he's gone back to being... well, Micah.

He's nice ? Which is so bizarre but he actually makes an effort to talk to people without antagonising them and instead of taking offence to comments, he laughs them off and sees it as a joke.

As long as the conversation stays light, Micah keeps his happy demeanour and he isn't even a bad loser when it comes to poker and five finger fillet. In a way, seeing Micah so friendly unnerves some of the other gang members because of how baffling it is.

If he's sweet on you then Micah will continuously asks if you'd like to sit on his lap. Of course he flirts with you but he's a lot sweeter than normal and tells you that you could definitely do better than him so he understands if you reject him.

John

John comes out of his shell when he's drunk. Instead of keeping his mouth shut, he says whatever he thinks of. Yeah he gets into more fights cause he doesn't know when to stop talking.

He can fall asleep anywhere and at any time. You could be chatting with him by the campfire and slowly feel him lean against your shoulder as he starts to softly snore. He once fell asleep while standing up right with one of his hands on a barrel for support.

When John tries to go to sleep when he's drunk, he's like a kid trying to go to sleep at a sleepover. John loudly says the most random words and makes random noises before he bursts out laughing, thinking it's the funniest thing in the world.

If John has a crush on you and he's drunk, he tries to be so helpful. He constantly asks you if you need anything. If you ask him to get you something then he walks a few feet away before completely forgetting what you asked for.

Bill

Let's be real, Bill's already a hothead when he's sober and he's exactly the same when he's drunk. He's very fast to start a fight but if someone lands one punch then that's Bill done for the night. Usually he's a better fighter but he has terrible balance when he's been drinking.

He tries to be productive when he's drunk, thinking that now's the perfect time to do some chores and to go on guard duty. Everyone knows better than to leave Bill go out on watch when he's like this. One time he tried to shoot a squirrel cause he thought it was going to run into camp.

Bill rambles a lot too, mainly telling stories from when he was in the army or reminiscing about different robberies he's done with the gang.

Bill can get really anxious so if y'all are in a relationship, he needs your comfort. His mind starts racing and he worries about little things so for you to be there and tell him everything is alright truly means a lot to him.  

Javier

Javier gets very goofy when he's drunk. He's keeps things light hearted, joking about things but is still able to hold his tongue when needed and have proper conversations too.

Honestly, Javier is probably one of the most level headed people in comparison to the rest of the gang but because he tends to stumble and get his words mixed up, people presume he's completely wasted when he's had a few to drink.

This man LIVES for those 2am deep and meaningful conversations. He absolutely adores having them and being drunk helps him open up more about his feelings so he has no problem expressing his emotions.

Are you ready to be swept off of your feet, both metaphorically and maybe literally depending on if you'll leave Javier do that? He's such a hopeless romantic when he's drunk. If camp is near a field or woodland then he sneaks off, picks some flowers and shyly gives them to you.

Sean

Sean manages to go through every mood when he's drunk. Everything is funny to him and he tries to make jokes about whatever comes to mind. Usually he jokes about Bill and Micah which leads to one of them arguing with Sean.

That's when Sean gets angry and thinks he's able to knock out anyone with one punch. Normally he ends up accidentally walking into a table or tripping over himself cause of how focused he is at punching the air.

Then Sean gets all sad and sentimental, feeling sorry for himself cause he accidentally bruised his leg. He has no problem sitting on the ground and pouting for a while, hoping that someone will walk past and give him some attention for a while.

If y'all are dating then Sean will tell you over and over again how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. He just wants to cling on to you for the night and make sure you know how loved you are.

Hosea

I hope you're sitting comfortably cause Hosea's gonna tell you every single goddamn story he can think of. Hosea tells you funny stories, sad stories, how he first met John and how he conned rich people. He really likes to reminisce when he's drunk.

Towards the end of the night, Hosea eventually gets quiet and if there's a party at camp where everyone is celebrating, then he goes off by the outskirts for a while.

Hosea likes to sit back and watch as everyone enjoys the night. He can get very sentimental when he does this but he likes to enjoy the little moments of the night and savour it all.

If he’s sweet on you then Hosea makes sure you know how special you are and that you deserve the best. He doesn't necessarily flirt with you but instead wants you to know how great you are.

Sadie

When Sadie drinks, she gets sad. She doesn't mean to get sad but her mind wanders and she thinks a lot about everything that's happened in her life and how she's ended up where she is today.

She doesn't speak a lot and ends up getting stuck in her head with thoughts whirling around and around. It can get overwhelming which is why she isn't that keen on getting completely wasted on alcohol.

She doesn't like how crowded camp can get so instead she likes to go off and find a nice scenic area to rest. Normally that helps calm her mind but Sadie also gets sleepy by then too.

If Sadie likes you and feels comfortable around you then she leans against you as ye both sit there in a peaceful silence. And if you suggest it, then she'll hesitantly rest her head on your lap and fall asleep as you play with her hair.

Kieran

Kieran doesn't get drunk often. He hates waking up the next morning and wondering if he pissed anyone off or said something he shouldn't have.

He's very happy when he's drunk, only seeing the positives in things and always smiling. Kieran is still a little shy but he's more open to being involved with what the gang's doing, whether that be singing along to some songs or dancing with whoever to Dutch's gramophone.  

Because of how involved he can become with the gang when he's drunk, he can get involved in a few fights or arguments. But contrary to popular belief, Kieran doesn't back down and makes sure to get his points across.

Kieran gets more confident after a few drinks and flirts with you more than usual. The more accepting you are to his comments, the more he flirts with you. Though if you flirt back then he gets very flustered.

[yunoysl]

needy. (m)

Summary: You probably have the most annoying neighbor to exist. He’s always loud, making you always have to bang on his door to tell him to shut up. One question he asks is enough to have you in his bed.

Pairing: cocky neighbor + fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: slightly suggestive, blowjob, spitting in mouth (idk if there’s a name for it), unprotected sex, small size kink, breeding

feedback is greatly appreciated!

You hate your neighbor, so so much. It’s an everyday occurrence for him to be LOUD. And it’s an occurrence for you to bang at his door every day telling him to keep it down. Whether it’s plying his music loud, screaming at his computer when he’s playing overwatch, or playing with himself. That you’ve heard more times that you would think to think of. Or bringing girls over and having THEM be loud. It’s annoying.

“Haechan! Open your door!” You bang on his door, positive that you’re going to almost leave a hole.

“Hello lovely neighbor” your oh so lovely neighbor opened his door, a smirk on this painfully handsome face.

“This is the third day in a row. Can you please shut your little girlfriends up” you don’t see the judgement look that the girl he has inside his place gives you.

“Oh come on, being loud is the fun part” you know he’s teasing you

“You love to irritate me on purpose, don’t you?”

“It’s my superpower. And besides, it’s really fun seeing you all frustrated” he gives you his teasing smile that for some reason does things to you. And you hate yourself for it.

“Are you kidding me? Just please keep it down”

“But then you won’t visit me” The teasing smile leaves his face and is replaced with the cutest pout you’ve ever seen.

“You’re so annoying”

“Are you just mad because you’re horny and wanna fuck me?” That caught you so off guard. You can’t deny the fact that he’s really hot, and the way his thighs are hugged when he wears black skinny jea- no stop.

You don’t answer his question, “I’m leaving”

“Same time tomorrow?” He yells out right as you’re closing your door, ready and looking forward to not having to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“Are you just mad because you’re horny and wanna fuck me?”

Why is that question constantly in your brain. Yeah, you HAVE thought about what it would be like to be in the position of the girls that he invited over to fuck. But that’s it.

Yes, you have used your vibrator while picturing what it would be like to be fucked by your beautiful, tan skinned neighbor who looks like he was kissed by the sun.

You let out a deep, frustrated sigh, reaching over to your nightstand to use your little friend and relieve yourself.

Of course Haechan would never be quiet, as you’re currently banging on his door again.

He finally opens the door, wearing a pear of black basketball shorts this time, and hair a mess.

“If it isn’t my pretty baby” that is the grossest thing you’ve ever heard from him. But why is it making you fight the urge to smile like a school girl who just asked her crush out.

“I was waiting for you, sweet girl” you don’t know this, but Haechan’s heart was actually beating really fast saying that. He would never admit it, but at first he was loud on accident, not meaning to do it or cause anyone any annoyance, but with his cute neighbors constantly visiting him at his door, he started doing it on purpose just to see your pretty face that he pictures when he’s rearranging a random girls guts, wishing that it was you in their spot.

“H-Haechan....” curse you for stuttering. he wasn’t suppose to be aware that the nicknames he was giving you were affecting you.

“Why are you nervous, princess?” You glare at him. “What? Did you come because I was right”

“Right about what?” You’re very confused, not sure what he was talking about.

“That you want to fuck me” he leans against the door as he stares at you with a knowing glint in his eyes, almost like he knew that you have been wishing it was you he was fuckjng every day instead of someone else.

“That’s not why I’m here, Haechan” he takes a step close to you, his fingertips trailing on your arm and going up to your face, his thumb stopping at your bottom lip.

“Um-umm.....” you can’t let any words out, feeling slightly dizzy at his touch.

“Speechless baby?” His thumb pulls on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth.

“I-I.... I forgot I have to take out my trash” Haechan chucked as you scurried off, watching you almost trip on your own two feet.

“Mark, I can’t stand him! Why did you have to move in with Jeno and Renjun.” You’re currently FaceTiming with Mark, complain to him about Haechan, again.

“It was cheaper this way, and besides you know I can’t cook and Renjun is basically a chef, especially since he was bored in quarantine and got into cooking and baking”

“I hate him. I hate him, with a burning passion”

“You said that he’s hot, so might as well just fuck him” he drives his attention away from you to open a bag of chips, making you more angry.

“Are you on my side or his?!”

“Yours, but let’s be honest babe, you desperately need dick. And if he’s always bringing girls and being loud then obviously he’s good at it” you rub your face, tired because Mark is indeed, not wrong.

“Hi Y/N” Jeno’s voice takes you out of your frustration. You love Jeno, he’s a cutie and a sweetheart — always there to make you feel better when you’re feeling down. His presence just bring you happiness, like a cute little puppy.

“Hi Jeno” Jeno definitely made you forget about your frustration with Haechan.

“What are you guys talking about” Jeno asks Mark as he took some of the chips he was eating.

“Talking about how Y/N should fuck her hot neighbor”

“Oh, you definitely should”

“Not you too Jeno”

“I’m just saying. We’re rooting for you to get that good dick”

“I hate all of you. I could easily replace you both”

“We’d like to see you try to find other people as amazing as us” you would obviously never replace the annoying dorks you call friends, but it doesn’t hurt to threaten them with it a little bit.

“I’m ending this, I’ll call you again later”

“Bye whore” you hang up and sigh. you should definitely try getting new friends.

You swear this time you’re going to actually murder Haechan.

You’re barely about to lift your fist to his door when he opens it, slightly startling you, “Come inside” he doesn’t even wait for you to come inside, leaving you to close his door yourself.

He has a really nice place. It’s very brightly lit and the white furniture makes it look classy.

“You know, you’re really pretty” out of anything Haechan we’re to talk about with you, him complimenting you is not what you expected.

“Uhh.. thanks”

“I bet you would look prettier underneath me though” and there’s the Haechan you’re familiar with.

“Okay I’ll fuck you” you swear his eyes almost literally popped out of his head.

“Wait, really?” the happiness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Yeah. I would like to see if all the noises your girlfriends make is because you’re actually good or they’ve only familiar with bad dick and that’s what they like” he’s quick to carry you bridal style to what you’re positive is his bedroom. He throws you on the bed after shutting his door with his foot.

“What do you wanna do first?” He’s in the middle of making out with you, your salivas mixing together.

“Can I suck you?”

“Oh... umm... sure.” You notice that he’s slightly flustered, acting like this is his first time ever doing anything sexual. He’s quick to unbutton his jeans and slide them off his legs, along with his underwear.

Once he’s bare underneath, he tilts your chin, giving you a quick kiss before placing his tip on your bottom lip. He runs his cock in your mouth slowly. You’re quick to pick up your face, eager to have all of him in your mouth. Your jaw burns from the stretch around him.

He pulls you off his cock to bring his head down to your lips, spitting in your mouth before placing his cock in your mouth again.

“Your mouth is so good” Your head bobs up and down rapidly, his cock reaching the back of your throat after finally getting used to his side. Your head bobs up and down as Haechan’s moans escape his lips, sounding like heaven to your ears. He pulls you off his cock again, making you whine since you weren’t done yet.

He smirks at you, “another time baby. I need to be inside you right now.”

He pushes you down on the bed and climbs on top of you, rubbing his cock over your pussy before shoving it in, bottoming out inside of you. Your head spins faster as he fills you up.

“You’re so warm” he teases in your ear, your mind not caring at all and instead being focused on the please you’re receiving. The sound of skin slapping quickly fills the room. Your eyes fluttering shut as your legs shake.

“You’re so pretty, baby” Haechan hisses as you continuously clench around him. Your mind is foggy, Haechan and his cock being the only thing you’re able to focus on. His grunts spill from his mouth as he quickens his face.

He pounds into you mercilessly, fingers clenching your hips tightly. “Will you come for me?” One last thrust is what has you coming undone, your climax washing over you.

You’re whining and gasping loudly, Haechan groaning in your ear as he cums, filling you to the brim. You cry out loudly as his cum shoots inside you. He pulls out of you once he’s finished, cleaning both of you up before tucking your bodies into bed, both of you welcoming a deep slumber.

[fallinfl0wers]

love stories with some genshin boys i thought of while listening to my playlists

includes: aether (210 words), xiao (261 words), scaramouche (277 words) and albedo (307)

warnings (?): spoilers of ‘we will be reunited’, english is not my native language and uhh idk what else, idk really know what these are, headcanons ?? snippets ?? also not beta read and not edited.

it’s long so uhhh i’ll add a cut somewhere

anyway enjoy!! ...whatever this is i guess

Aether

Falling in love with Aether is like a fun adventure. He, being always the center of attention and the protagonist no matter where he goes, is a free spirited, kind and hardworking man. 

Throughout your time travelling and being in a relationship together, you’ll find that your relationship with the Honorary Knight is one of sweet kisses under the sunlight; innocent handholding while thinking up of what to make for dinner tonight; of easily talked out arguments and finding ways to compromise; of softly pushing each other to become a better version of themselves and, most of all, of supporting and having each other’s backs no matter what.

And when Aether confronts the Abyss Princess face to face for the first time and his world comes crashing down on him, this trait of your relationship shines like no other, as you hold him in your arms after everything was over during the night, Paimon sleeping soundly next to the both of you inside your improvised campsite.

“Even though I’m not sure what -or who- I should believe anymore, I... I know I want to see this journey to the end, and I want you to be there with me for it. Let’s be together until the last moment and beyond.”

Songs:

Snow Fairy - Funkist

Snowing, be honest with yourself and smile When two people are getting closer, time overlaps Fairy, where are you going I will gather all the light and shine it on your tomorrow

Still Lonely - SEVENTEEN

This cursed popularity. Why won’t it leave me? But why am I getting lonelier The early morning chill makes me feel Even lonelier today I feel completely empty, as if I’m empty

Kanpeki Gu~ no ne - Watarirouka Hashiritai

I'm at a loss for words, with this and that, I'm totally in love with you Someday, I want do the same to you: Watch you flounder, At a loss for words right back to me!

Side by Side - The8 from SEVENTEEN

I want to hold hands with you but I don't know what to do what to do oh baby I want to give all my heart to you but You still don't know what's in my heart

Hope - Namie Amuro

At the end of this blue, wide world there's a place I want to aim at with you We chose this long ago for eternity

Xiao

Falling in love with Xiao is like living a bittersweet dream. The Vigilant Yaksha is far from human, or so he says, and thus is out of touch with the way we mortals experience feelings, both the negative and positive ones.

Your relationship with him is one of compassion, mutual understanding, appreciation and patience. So, so much patience. Of intertwined pinkies and soft stolen glances, of shy smiles and comfortable silence sometimes filled with your voice chatting time away and his short responses to your talks.

I mentioned patience. He knows you’re making an enormous effort to try and understand him and be patient with him and his slow learning process of how relationships work, so it’s only fair that he makes a true effort to understand you and your feelings.

Xiao is well aware that he could hurt you without wanting to, be it with his blunt phrasing of his thoughts or his Karmic Debt, as much as he is aware that you will eventually pass away and leave him behind to go somewhere he can’t follow, and that undeniable truth haunts him every second of every day he gets to spend with you. And still, he wishes and wants and does cherish each and every warm, kind feeling he gets every single second you’re together nonetheless.

“I might not know what to make of these new feelings you gave me. But I’ll learn. I promise I’ll learn, so please... don’t go, not yet. Let me treasure you and carve you into my memory for as long as I can.”

Songs:

Euphoria - BTS

I don't know what this emotion is Perhaps this is also the inside of a dream A dream is the blue mirage of the desert Deep inside of me, a priori I become happy to the point of being unable to breathe The surroundings, bit by bit, become clearer

Fallin’ Flower - SEVENTEEN

While flower blooms and falls, scars cure and buds shoot We are living our first and last moment So I won’t take you for granted Because you loved me as I am

Fear - SEVENTEEN

Get out my mind I can't handle it, I'm afraid of myself The truth has me tied up My heart is tainted I'm afraid it'll eventually change you too

The Truth Untold - BTS, Steve Aoki

It’s my fate Don’t smile to me Light on me Because I can’t get closer to you There’s no name you can call me

You know that I can’t Show you me Give you me I can’t show you a ruined part of myself Once again I put a mask on and go to see you But I still want you

Tiny Light - Akari Kitō

Because you colored my unchanging monochromatic days Even the blurred darkness gained meaning

Still, hidden in this heart, these feelings of preciousness so strong that they hurt I just want to convey these feelings to only you before they disappear someday

Scaramouche

Falling in love with Scaramouche is like constantly playing a game. He’s strict, demanding, disagreeable, and widely disliked by enemies and allies alike. Still, he has a heart too; and he holds desires and hopes deep inside of it, although most of them are fueled by the unchanging curiosity he has towards the world around him, curiosity to know what he can get out of whatever the world wants to throw at him.

You were no exception to that rule, at first.

When he met you he wanted to get something from you. And you knew it from the start, just as he knew that you knew. And that didn’t change anything, at first.

Your relationship with him is one of dangerously playful, yet still light-hearted games of seduction, teasing and deceit; of secret kisses exchanged in expensive private rooms in restaurants or the cozy warmth of your home, of an unspoken shared respect and, most of all, complete, mutual devotion.

You know Scaramouche is not a good man. He has done many, many unspeakable things in his life as one of the Eleven, and he knows he’s far from being the perfect charming prince you could aim for, but he will never let you go. Because behind those hardened walls of egocentrism and pride, you saw what no one else bothered to see. You saw him, not the role he was playing, you saw him and fell in love with him.

“To be honest, I don’t think I could find anyone else who understands me as much as you do. And no, I’m not saying this because I want something, give me some more credit, geez...”

Songs:

soldier game -  µ’s

You'll come with me, yes? You've grown curious about my touch, yes? Then it's already love Since you're someone I must meet in battle someday, That might just be your reason It's soldier game Though we've met again, I'm soldier heart

Kowareyasuki - Guilty Kiss

Just stop it already and show your heart only to me I love your eyes that are about to cry And your defenseless, clumsy way of living too (...) The hesitation you convey makes my chest hurt Some people just don't know what such kindness is But then I discover the truth When we got together, you don't have to endure anymore Right now, show your grief only to me I like that you think too much The complete opposite of me

Shhh - SEVENTEEN

Don't think of all these as your mere illusion They're not lies that follow the moment No one can underestimate it, my feelings are an ignition 'Cause I'm always the same Me and you, we got hurt by the lies that we won't ever work But it's fate

(...)

So I can cover you from danger A consented dedication

(...)

It's as natural as breathing An everlasting dedication

Good to me - SEVENTEEN

Yeah, when you were making that sign in my heart It was a long time since my firewall broke down Pass with the password What in the world do you know about me? Are my deep feelings seen by you?

Hiraishin - Keyakizaka46

(To trust is to be betrayed, to open one’s heart is to get hurt So to avoid being struck by lightning-like sorrow…)

Which side am I picking? Ah, these values are hard to handle That’s why I won’t stop watching over you Positive positive positive You should just be yourself… I can forgive whatever absurdities you pull off I’ll support you without being noticed Even when you get nitpicked I’ll be your companion Let us now promise to live an unremarkable life hereafter What we have here is the lightning rod of love

Albedo

Falling in love with Albedo is a fairy tale-like experience for both of you. His attention had always been focused on his research, everything else fading into the background save for a few exceptions, until you came around. You, who stole all his attention by just existing. 

As an alchemist, he’s naturally the curious type. He wanted to know what about it had caught his attention, what was so special about you that had him clinging to your every word and movement every time you interacted with him. Still, human relationships are hard for him, and he figured you might go away the second he started to feel burnt out from your interactions. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed. You stayed and took interest on what he did, asked questions, gave your insight, and dragged him to sleep when he needed a break. In exchange, he did the same for you.

Your relationship with Albedo is like one of those awkwardly sweet first time crushes. Of carefully calculated movements, dates and compliments, of soft kisses on lips, hands and cheeks, of mutual support, understanding and mature compromising and commitment.

The Kreideprinz, like everyone else, has his own fears and insecurities, especially regarding his... nature, but he does his best not to let them affect the relationship he has with you. Each moment spent by your side, even when he’s not actively doing any research, is considered perfectly spent, meaningful time.

“A long time ago, I was tasked with finding out the meaning of this world. Though I have directed my efforts and resources to looking for the answer through alchemy, ever since we met I... think, I’ve found an unexpected conclusion to said issue. While it’s likely that this is not the answer expected from me, I’m positive that, at least personally, I finally have the answer.”

Songs:

Futari Saison - Keyakizaka46

In the wind blowing through the city’s streets, even though I caught whiff of something’s scent, I had no interest in looking back

In a 1m radius around me, I formed an invisible barrier to another world And yet, you took someone like me out of it

What made you do that?

Home - SEVENTEEN

What can I do? Without you I’m just an old robot, my heart stops and it’s always cold What can we do? Without me You’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?

Baby, I want to cherish our warmth So no one can come between us

Flower - SEVENTEEN

You taught me, you showed me You’re my only reason If you can forever remember me I can get hurt, I can get hurt

My heart that’s engraved with your light Makes me stronger Give me your sharp thorns Cause you’re my flower

Oh my! - SEVENTEEN

Sorry for repeating the same thing But this is all I can try using hard words But my true feeling is this, every everything

(...)

How about you? Is it hard for you to sleep because of me too? If you keep making my heart flutter What do I do?

Naze koi wo shite konakattan darou? - Sakurazaka46

Why hadn't I fallen in love? I've been making fun of it all this time I mean everyone keeps saying 'I love you' just like cats in heat But after falling in love I realized what people live for To meet, to love, to the point of nothing but... I'm not myself, I want to find my true self.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 9 - Intimate (1)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Teasing, Sex with Gojo Satoru (is that a good enough explanation lol?), squirting

Summary: Gojo uses you to relieve some of his stress after his little argument with your best friend, and poses a question that catches you off guard.

A/N: ~ a little bit of possessive/jealous Gojo ~ this is smut, and there will be a part two that follows up with this chapter! I hope you enjoy it x

- - - 

His tall figure nailed you against the frame of your front door, your body growing hot as Gojo pressed his abdomen into you. You squeezed your ankles, drawing his movements closer as he deepened his kiss. Letting go of his hair that was curled between your fingers, your hand released the back of his head and gently trailed down his neck. His muscles were tense, his skin taut as you moved across his collarbone and onto his other shoulder, desperately trying to counter his energy with your soft touches. You gripped onto his shirt, fighting against his insistent mouth that had you colliding into the hard wood behind you.

A part of you knew that something was off about his behavior but the other half was blinded by complete lust. You wanted to catch your breath, figure out exactly what set him off but instead chose to entertain his insatiable desires. There was a growing ache radiating from your core and spreading down between your legs. Right now, the only person who can help with it is the man before you.

You felt his hand lightly slip away from underneath your thigh while the other traded your breast for the curve of your spine as he shifted to support you on your back. You could feel the pads of fingers touch the skin of your leg, shooting up your nerves as he snaked his way underneath the fabric of your loose, fleece shorts to rub your already soaked underwear. He finally pulled away from your lips, pressing them into your neck instead as his thumb playfully circled against you.

“ Fuck…” he whispered hoarsely, his breath sending goosebumps across your skin.

He managed to slip two fingers easily inside you, inserting himself all the way in before scissoring his digits.

“ Ohh, ‘toru…” you moaned, barely able to say his name as his fingers pleasured you while his tongue tasted your skin.

Your body was getting hotter by the second, your legs shaking trying to hold yourself around him. Gojo’s hand was drenched in your arousal as he quickened his pace. You were so used to him drawing out your orgasms, taking his time as if he was mapping out each second before reaching the final destination.

He was moving at a quick pace, not stopping once to tease or torment you. His actions had you whining in desperation as he drew you closer to your release, moving rapidly until your first orgasm ripped right through you. He supported you as your body clenched around him, pushing himself away from you to watch you come undone before him. You didn’t care that your back was sore from the friction against the door, or that your muscles ached from the position you were in. The minute you felt that build up release from within you, a desperate cry escaped your lips. You knew that if any of your neighbors were outside, they probably heard the entire thing.

Gojo repositioned himself to face you, bringing his slender fingers to your lips. His silence was deafening because the man absolutely adored dirty talk, which was always an added plus when he praised you for your efforts. The quiet, stoic reaction you were getting had you flustered for a whole other reason. His middle finger tapped your cupid’s bow, indicating you to open your mouth. His command made your cheeks bloom with warmth but you parted your lips anyway to suck his fingers clean.

You hated that you sometimes associated Gojo with your ex-boyfriend, but you didn’t have any other partners to compare notes with.

When you were with your ex, sex was something that the two of you explored together as a couple. You were both young and naive, trying to learn each other’s bodies and over time you both grew into one another’s touch. However, sex still only played a small  role in your entire relationship, uncomparable to the emotional intimacy you shared.

With Gojo, things were so different. You didn’t think it was possible to be as attracted to somebody as you were to him, the way your body immediately responded to him was magnetic. You would never admit how easily he preoccupied your mind but the longer you two kept exploring this avenue of your friendship, the harder it was for you to ignore your infatuation. Yes, he took the time he needed to study every part of you, like a musician playing an instrument, but he was a fast learner and quick to pick up on the things that made you sing beautifully for him.

Gojo carefully let go of you, allowing your feet to land on the floor as you stood on shaky knees. He stepped away from you, his fingers hooking onto your t-shirt as he tugged you in the direction towards your bedroom not lifting his gaze from you even once.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded as he shut the door.

After you got undressed, you found your position on the mattress, laying flat on your back as you watched Gojo strip down to his boxers. You squeezed your slick coated thighs together, biting your bottom lip and admiring his gorgeous figure until he finally removed the last article of clothing he was wearing, your mouth growing dry at the sight of his erection.

He crawled his way over the bed before hovering himself above you, his hand reached for the back of his head, and your eyes widened slightly as you watched him undo the knot to allow his blindfold to loosen from around his temple. White hair framed those eyes, a mesmerising blue that knocked the wind out of you.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, “I thought-”

Before you could finish your statement, Gojo had taken away your sight, wrapping the material around your eyes and shrouding you in darkness. You swallowed hard, wondering how Gojo could even see through the thick fabric that constantly concealed him. You felt his fingers working, a tightness circling the back of your head as he fastened the knot.

“Is this okay?” he asked kindly in a low voice, waiting for you to give him an answer before he carried on.

You nodded your head and he responded with a kiss.

“Good.”

He forcefully spread your legs open, his tongue stroking upward along your slit. His arms wrapped underneath your thighs, hands latching onto your hips as he buried himself between your legs. Your head fell back onto the sheets, a pleasured sensation filtering along your body. Something about not being able to see made this entire experience more thrilling, because you couldn’t focus on anything else except Gojo’s mouth. It wasn’t long before you had your second orgasm, your back arching off the mat as you held his head closer to you. Gojo, however, didn’t stop. He felt you wiggle your hips away from him, and pulled you back in with a grunt. His mouth found you sensitive pearl, enclosing around it as he began to suck before freeing up one of his hands to dive into your cunt.

“ Satoru…wait… ” you begged, too sensitive to have him keep working on you anymore. “ w-wai…ohhhh… ”

But he didn’t heed your plea, instead he curled his fingers even further inside you, fucking you again with his hand. Your body shivered, panting heavily as you tried to raise your hips away but the man refused to stop and instead your movements only caused you to dance with his own, leaving a pressure to start building again from within you. You couldn’t even think straight, seeing little sparks before your eyes within the darkness until you mewled when you felt his teeth nibble on your clit.

His other hand was rough on your skin, pressing into your hips and you knew for a fact he was going to leave a few marks. You always gave him a hard time about it but secretly you loved it. He had such an easy claim on your body, and you willingly gave into him without question.

When his tongue was inside you is when you came a third time, and then a fourth time. And then…

“ I-I can’t…fuck! ‘toru..it’s too much…it’s too much… ”

Your hands reached for his head, pushing him away. He lifted up his gaze, and you were unable to see the smirk that spread across his glistened lips. His fingers found his place back inside you, “ you can and you will, angel. ”

By the time Gojo drove you to your fifth orgasm, you could barely breathe, the mattress soaked with your arousal. Your body was weak, pulsing along with your racing heart and you were wetter than you’ve ever been before. You swallowed hard, trying to fully grasp what just happened.

“How amusing,” Gojo complimented, his words steeping with sheer satisfaction.

You could hear him fumble around, your trembling hands reaching for the blindfold that you tugged off.

Once Gojo slipped on the condom, he returned his attention back to you. Your eyes met, your heart nearly stopping from the way he was looking at you. Passion swirled through his irises, a fiery blue that singed if you stared for too long. His gaze is intense, making you blush when you realize that this is how he’s always been looking at you.

You look at the mess that you created, your insecurities twisting your insides.

“I…”

Gojo could see the slight panic in your eyes, bringing that devilish mouth of his onto your lips to kiss you.

“ Mmm, you were fucking perfect. Let’s see if we can try that again. ”  

His hands held your waist, turning you around until you were face down and you naturally lifted yourself up from behind to assume the position. The tip of his cock spread your lips open, and he thrusted himself hard into you from behind. The muscles in your legs clenched, a satisfied sigh escaping you feeling the length of his member. Your walls were pulsing around him, the fullness sending goosebumps across your abdomen. Gojo didn’t move, he just held himself there for a minute, feeling your warmth around his stiff cock.

He brought his lips down to your neck, lazily trailing kisses on your skin and moving his hand to meet your clit once again. Still buried inside you, his finger began working the most sensitive part of you.

“You weren’t supposed to take off the blindfold, ” he murmured against your ear. “You broke one of our rules… ”

“You broke one first,” you whispered in response, making him chuckle against your skin.

Satoru didn’t move, leaving you pinned underneath him in anguish. He slowed down his pace with his fingers and you whimpered as you clutched your bedsheets.

“You’re too good to me, angel,” he whispered in your ear, his words almost sad as he slowly pulled his hips away.

“ Always so wet and eager for me …” he continued, driving himself back inside you and earning another whimper in response.

“ Tell me, angel. Has any man ever fucked you like this before ?”  

You gasped as he began alternating his words with his movements, leaving you melting underneath him.

“Has he ever made you come like that before?”

Now that question caught you off guard.

Your face grew hot; Gojo knew what he was asking - he wanted to know if your ex made you feel even half as good as he did in bed. Did he ever drive you to the point where you were so unraveled by what was happening, you painted his sheets from sheer pleasure.

You parted your lips to speak but no words came out, slightly shocked that Gojo would even pry into your personal memories like that. Your pause made him stop his movements, his free hand finding yours and intertwining his fingers in your own as he pressed your fist into the mattress.

You swallowed hard, “ he-um...we’ve never… ”

“ Yes or no? ”

“ N-no… ” you replied truthfully. “ Just you.”  

You wondered if it was jealousy or passion feeding into his sexual ego. Gojo returned to his movements, his body enveloping on top of you as he fucked you. He quickened his pace, the sound of your bodies writhing surrounding you both. You were aching from your releases already, knowing full well that you won’t be able to last long underneath him.

“Tell me you’re mine…”

“ Satoru…” you replied, dizzy with the heightened emotions you were feeling. Your words were caught in your throat, replaced with another moan feeling his dick slipping in and out of you.

“ Say it, angel. ” he repeated, his hand increasing the pressure on your clit and forcing tears to prick your eyes.

Your breath hitched as you tried to speak, “ yours . I’m yours- ”  

He fucked you with intensity, the tension only fueling every thrust that he drove into you. As you felt him inside you, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the moment completely drunk on pure lust. You didn’t even realise in your haze you were still whispering those words, reminding him over and over again that in this moment your body belonged to him alone. White noise rang in your ear when you finally came, you were going limp underneath him as your muscles finally relaxed against the mattress as you rested.

“ Mine,” you heard him groan in return, holding you close into his chest as he finally found his own release.  

The two of you were intertwined, limbs tangled and sharing slow breaths while trying to acclimate from your post-sex high. After Gojo caught himself, he finally decided to release you from his grip, rolling onto his back as he held you against his rising and falling chest. His eyes were closed, his head heavy and he could tell he had exhausted himself. He pinched his eyelids together with one hand, all that pent up irritation filtering away.

He felt your hand in his, which you haven’t let go since he held yours. You stroked the inside of his palm with your thumb, the first to break the silence as you turned to look up at him.

“Uhm...if you plan on sticking around, I can make us some dinner after we freshen up…”

“Sure,” he replied, keeping his eyes closed before asking, “you wouldn’t happen to have a black scarf lying around by any chance?”

- CHAPTER 10: INTIMATE (2) - 

[wizkiddx]

Not sure if you are taking request at all but if you do, do you mind writing something about Harry agreeing to be the birth photographer at the birth of his niece (tom and reader’s daughter) 🥺🤍

this was so interesting!! personally I am way too self conscious to have a photographer when I *eventually* have a kid aha, but I hope this is what u were looking for x x p.s. coming at my brand w the white hearts :)

tomholland x reader

summary: harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over

Having just had a round of golf with Harry, Tom invited him back to yours for a cuppa and a catch up too. After all the years of living and travelling with Harry by his side, Harry in particular was massively important to TOm. Especially since he’d moved in with you, Tom constantly made a super special effort to spend as much time with him as possible. Harry had a key and had no quam with letting himself in uninvited. Though since he had walked in at *the wrong time* a bit too frequently, and then the announcement of your pregnancy - he had cut down the unexpected visits.

“So, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“This does not sound good” Harry furrowed his eyebrows together, looking suspiciously at his brother as he poured the kettle into the two matching ‘Brothers Trust’ mugs.

“Since when? I only ever ask you to do good things?”

“We both absolutely know that is not true.” Harry deadpanned, pointing to the palm of his right hand which carried a large scar. Scar in question had been sustained during one of Tom’s incredibly ‘good’ aka stupid ideas.

“Right fair… I’ll allow that.” He receeded, placing the two mugs onto the counter in front of Harry. All it took was one look at the pale brown colour for Harry to turn his nose up, shooting Tom a look as though he’d just murdered a puppy. The elder of the two sighed, knowing exactly what his brothers snobbiness was about.

“Seriously?”

“It’s not your fault your awful at this, some people just aren’t born with it.” With a sarky pat on the back Harry rounded the counter, pouring the freshly brewed but slightly too milky tea down the drain - before flicking the kettle on to make his own brew… properly this time.

Tom knew his brother well enough to know not to argue or protest, instead perching on the counter as he watched Harry work his ‘magic’.

“But seriously me and Y/n have been talking about the birth cos you know, it’s not too far away now.” This was true, you were now only 3 weeks from your due date - but going by the size of you, you were ready to pop. Quite literally, you didn't know how much longer you could last.

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t mate.”

“Well yeh and I basically um …  had the idea to get a photographer for the birth right? It’s quite an American thing but I don’t want to forget anything and I’m sure it’s gonna be magical.” In response, Harry slowly turned around, empty mug in hand and eyes fierce.

“Are you fucking stupid?!”

To be fair to Harry, that had pretty much been your reaction when Tom first suggested it - word for word. He’d got the idea from one of the crew he’d filmed his most recent projects with, the guy had been raving about how beautiful it was and once he’d shown the pictures to Tom - he had to agree. Eventually Tom had worn you down to it and actually the idea of being able to save the moment you met your kid for the first time didn’t sound too bad. You had firmly set the boundaries of no photos of your ‘labour face’ and absolutely nothing from the ‘other end of the bed.’

The worry for both of you, as it always was given Tom’s reputation, was privacy. Especially the birth of your child, having a stranger there had you straight refusing, even a friend seemed still a little invasive. It was only when Tom had remembered he had a brother (who you were also incredibly close to) who was handy with a camera. Even if he had no experience with this particular type of photography, Harry was a pretty safe pair of hands for a camera in any situation. God knows he’s had enough practice at it.

“No hear me out, Y/n agreed too-“

“Of course this was your idea! So she’s totally fine with me staring at her fanny through a camera lens?”

“Harry” That was a warning tone, which the frizzy haired boy chose to completely ignore.

“No I-I mean, you want me to stare at your finances bits? Isn’t that some sort of weird incsest?”

“Shut the fuck up about Y/n’s body. You OBVIOUSLY wouldn’t be taking photos of that end, more like when the baby gets handed to us you know?”

“When its covered in gunk that came out of Y/n?”

“I’m pretty sure they clean it-“

“Not properly!”

Thankfully perhaps, the conversation was interrupted by the kettle clicking off, the water coming to a boil. With a huff Harry turned round, pouring and then stirring the tea as Tom watched his back from a distance. Neither spoke till after Harry finished, returning the milk to the fridge and then leaning against the counter top.

“Look I get it if you dont want to but your the only one Y/n trusts to do it and it means a lot to me.”

“Y/n wants me to stare at her fanny?!”

“No calm down you div. But you are the only one she trusts to be in the room when our first child is born. Will you just think about it?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, probably protest, but before he could the front door opened and you called through the house.

“Tom? I’m home!” And becasue the boy was whipped he instantly trotted to the front door giving you a peck on your lips. He murmured to you that Harry was there, his lips moving against yours and you nodded with a small smile. You knew, instantly, that Tom in all his idiocy hadn’t handled it well.

“Would you mind getting all the shopping from car? Pregnant and all, so I’m not allowed to lift a finger.” You cocked your head, laughing as he rolled his eyes with a nod.

“I’m excited for when you can't play that card.”

“But then I’ll be the women who pushed a baby out for you… the mother of your child.”  Winking, you then quickly moved through the house before he could protest, just knowing he was pulling a pouty face as he watched you sway away.

Once in the kitchen you saw Harry nursing his mug like it was the last drink on earth, hunched over it from where he was sitting on a stool on the breakfast bar.

“ You lose at golf?” Opening the conversation, Harry instantly shot his head up, looking slightly terrified to see you.

“Wha- no, no I didn’t actually.”

“Tom asked you huh?” He nodded, seemingly not wanting to commit with words. “I had exactly the same face when he first told me. It’s weird right?”

“Yeh no shit.”

“He’s really keen on it though, I mean he’s like an excited puppy about the whole birth.”

“But you want it too?”

“Sort of. What I do want is for him to be happy though. And I’m fairly certain he’s gonna be terrified throughout the whole birth while I won’t be in a position to help himl.”

“You’ll probably have other stuff on your mind to be fair.” You laughed, at that, nodding in agreement with him.

“Just a little. I did think though, who is a person who I can trust to look after him too during that... and even I draw a line at your dad… Look if you don't want to, I totally get it and I can’t promise that I won’t be screaming at you during if you do. But it would comfort me to know you were there, with or without the bloody camera.”

“Seriously?” Rather than exclaiming it, Harry whispered in shock, not expecting this sort of a revelation.

“Course H! You're my little brother too.”

“I might pass out.”

“So will your brother, at least he won’t be on his own then.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Thnakyouthankyouthankyou!” You squealed, running over to hug him from the back, arms round his shoulders as he squirmed on the stool.

It was at this point Tom walked back in after unloading the ridiculous amount of baby clothes shopping you had done. Big strong Tom had to take 2 trips up and down the stairs to the nursery. Of course, all it took was a few words from you and Harry was falling at your feat. He was hardly surprised. Annoyingly you seemed to have this power over all the Hollands. They never stood a chance.

It wasn’t till later than evening, long since Harry had left and the dishwasher had been put on after Tom had made a mess cooking you dinner. Only then did your phone ping with a text message from Sam.

Sam H

‘I dont know what you’ve done to Harry but I’m scared, he’s binge watching one born every minute.’

Immediately you cracked up, knowing that it was his nervous energy and need to ‘be prepared’. Tom, who was lying behind you on the sofa whilst his hands caressing your stomach, jerked his head up intrigued as the what the ‘ding’ was. You showed him and he snorted in laughter too, whilst nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“How did you bring him round by the way?”

“Oh you know, I’ve got all of you wrapped round my little finger when I want.”

“That you do… do you think I should be worried?”

“Nah your just all softies.” Laughing softly, you pulled his arms tighter around you, wiggling back into him a bit more.”

“You didn’t tell him about the godparent thing though?”

“Course not… we can give him a separate heart attack about that.”

[rivalry-trope-enjoyer]

Autumn Troupe: When they have nightmares

(PSA: this one’s a little self indulgent since I can’t sleep tonight so apologies if the headcanon’s inaccurate to the character ^^’)

Juza

Juza’s one to hide whatever gets him down because he doesn’t want to burden those around him.

He wants to be a good influence for Muku and Kumon and he tries not to rope them into anything negative that he has going on.

He tried to have a positive impact on you, too, so most times he doesn’t know how to express or want to express his vulnerabilities to you.

It was inevitable the night he had a nightmare, unfortunately it was you turning your back on him and was suddenly scared of him and thought of him as a monster.

Juza woke up in a cold sweat next to you, and he had no time to panic as he quickly rose up, reaching the air in front of him in a frenzy.

It would be best to hold him and/or reassure him. He needs to know that he isn’t alone and that it’s safe to open up to you, he will melt and quickly try to forget what happened in his dream.

He won’t tell you much about the dream, he won’t resist your efforts of getting close to him. In fact, it’s all Juza would have ever wanted. The love and care of someone that would accept him for who he is.

He’ll silently accept the love you give him, holding onto you tightly to steady his shaking and reassure his head.

Banri

Banri didn’t care much about nightmares, it never really bothered him and he kind of blew it off as some meaningless sign to ignore.

He never read much into things and didn’t see the need to start now. He was just rolling through life without a care in the world.

That was, until you came into his life.

He cared for you greatly and the feeling of putting in time and effort into someone that wasn’t his own self was almost foreign.

You had genuinely supported Banri throughout acting and everything he did, and he returned the favor which he had never thought he ever would.

Every bit of affection, every compliment he’d shrug off from literally anyone else meant more to him than anything.

To the point where waking up from a nightmare felt different when you were involved.

He was terrified that this meaning that he found in his life was gone, he woke up trying to laugh it off but saw his hands shake from the after math.

Just a simple “I’m here, I’m here” would ground him and bring him back to reality. Your voice was like a song to Banri, one that he would never get tired of.

He’d laugh still, but in a more genuine manner, tease you and asked if you actually worried about him.

Inside, he was grateful that you affirmed you were there with him, but it’ll take a while for him to admit it.

Omi

This boy has a lot to unpack.

He’s riddled with nightmares ever since his best friend had died. Despite all the changes in his life it still comes back in his sleep to bite him in the back.

He convinces himself that he’s gotten used to the nightmares and accepted it all as what he has to live with, but it deeply bothered him.

Despite this Omi tends to put a strong face for everyone; his brothers and father, the Mankai company, and for you, too.

Initially, he saw his weak points as being a burden to you, so Omi likes to perform acts of service to you like making you food before he goes to work or to rehearsal, get groceries with you, and of course also make sure you get a good night sleep before he would have to leave to run errands of his own.

He rarely takes rests and keeps himself busy a lot, he loves to help the people he cares about, but at the same time he will over work to avoid the nightmares that come late at night.

It was bound to happen that he would knock out fast asleep next to you. He had a whole day of errands, photo shoots, a lengthy practice and cooking for both you and the troupe. Omi deserved a rest.

However he started twisting and turning in his sleep frantically and you woke him up in fear of what was going on.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” he immediately goes, rubbing his eyes to hide the clear discomfort, stretching to get up and make himself some tea.

Refuse his offer to do anything, right now it’s best for him to recover, and even without any cooking skill, offer some calming tea and some snacks or comfort food from the fridge or pantry.

He’ll be endlessly grateful, laughing as he constantly reassures you that he would have been perfectly fine getting it himself, but still thank you in the process.

“I know you’d do the same for me, it’s time I help you, too”

Those words hit him in realizing how much he has already done the whole day, and how acts of service doesn’t need to be a one-way path. Showing how much you cared for him gave him a sense of trust and security with you almost instantly.

Taichi

He admired you so much, and he would desperately try to hide anything that made him seem uncool.

He still fears being alone more than anything, despite wanting to stand out, he hated the feeling of isolation.

Often times it comes in his nightmares ever since he left the God Troupe, he had been scared of being singled out as a traitor and left neglected.

He woke up in tears that he sobbed out, carelessly forgetting that you were sleeping right next to him, but were awoken by his cries and immediately got up to go to him.

“Taichi, are you okay?” “Yeah! Yeah I’m perfectly fine-“ “Taichi.”

You sounded stern but he was still stubborn and tried to convince you that he was in top shape.

“See? I got all my fingers and everything! Still the same-“

You didn’t believe him but instead pulled him into your arms and his tears bursted out even more, taken by surprise of the overwhelming affection and support that he loved from you so much.

He shamelessly cried in your arms and soaked your shoulder, apologizing for his uncool he looked, but you not caring made him cry even harder.

After that nightmare he was truly happy to show this side of himself, even if Taichi had thought of it to be shameful in the beginning. He felt that you would stay at his side even with his true colors, he was open to accepting his own self as much as you accepted him with open arms.

Sakyo

In comparison, Sakyo handles nightmares as if they were nuisances like a fever. He still has difficulty sleeping after them so he lies awake just staring at the ceiling for a while to let it fade away.

In his past he was not able to have a lot, and often times because of his past affiliations he did not have much room for error.

As much as possible he did not want to mess up anything with you as well. Upon meeting him, he did come off as cold, and it took a while for him to warm up to you and was careful when talking to you about his previous encounters with the yakuza, as much as what didn’t scare you off.

When realizing you had done more than stay, but instead support him with being the actor who Sakyo was trying to be today, he was thrilled.

As much as he’d lecture you about running water and spending on groceries, it was his own way of trying to be helpful and caring.

In a way it showed that he knew what he was doing, but when it came to seeing him in shambles after waking up after a nightmare of his ugly past, he froze.

You were lying right next to him and he didn’t know how to cover up his own tracks of vulnerability. The ice he encased himself in melted away when you crawled up to him and asked him what was wrong.

He never wanted to involve you in the dangers of what his line of worm was before, realizing how much he wanted you in his life, but you still being there after learning all about it was reassurance to him.

With that he was able to go to bed easier, knowing that act of his life was over, and he was able to start fresh with a life with you, in an arc that he hopes to never call the curtain on.

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[aellynera]

Goddess (Orestes x Reader)

GODDESS

(Hi. I wrote an Orestes story - it started as a joke about the way Apocalypse says “my goddess”, and then I was like “oh man I want Orestes to call me his goddess” and then as usual, I don’t know how, but this happened. It’s rather different than most things I write, but I quite enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

Word Count: ~4400

Summary: Orestes is a constant in your life and has a particular way of constantly reminding you.

Warnings: Mentions of character death (briefly described but not graphically.) Implied female reader. Definite probable historical inaccuracies taken for poetic license and dramatic effect. ANGST (I made myself cry while I was writing this.) Christians doing morally void but historically accurate things. Fictional timelines.

When you are four years old, your parents leave everything they’ve built in Rome - their jobs in the palace, their lives in the city, your father’s position on the council -upon the orders of the Emperor and move to Alexandria. Your father’s new role is to assist in turning that city into a bastion of the Empire, to help strengthen the government and support the supremacy of Rome. Your mother is to be a gentle guide to the women, in hearth and home and higher society. And because you are theirs, you go with them.

They meet with the prefect upon your arrival and he welcomes your family. He is bright and cheerful, yet loud and pompous and booming, stern but wise, and while he is a kind man, his volume frightens you. You cower behind your mother’s skirts, steadfastly clinging to her and  refusing to join in any pleasantries.

Another woman suddenly appears, a small boy with curly hair and bright dark eyes holding her hand. The boy regards you curiously and asks why you won’t come out and say hello. His mother tells him you’re shy, while your mother encourages you to release your death grip on her gown. Finally, after much coaxing, you relent and she pushes you gently towards the little boy.

His mother says you should go play in the garden while the grown-ups talk, and he reaches a tiny hand out to you, wide-eyed and smiling. His name is Orestes, and he is six.

And when you take his hand with a shy little smile, his voice comes out as a whisper and tells you he thinks you’re a goddess, and he drags you towards the garden to show you the little blue flowers that dot the grass, and you believe him.

***

When you are eight years old, one day you finish your chores early and decide to spend your extra time in the yard, weaving some wildflowers together into a chain while the mid-afternoon sun warms your shoulders.

You are quite happy to be alone and not around the grown-ups for now; they’re so loud, sometimes too loud. You crave the quiet, seek it out often, and you bask in it.

Until a rush of dark curls and bright eyes tears past your house, into your yard, and grabs you by the hand, knocking your flower chain carelessly to the ground. He insists you come play with him on the hill nearby and with a squeal of indignation, you let yourself be dragged along behind him.

Your ire over the discarded flower chain is soon forgotten as your squeals become laughter as you roll and roll down the hill together, grass and dirt sticking to your robes and tufts sticking to his unruly curls. 

When you tell him he looks silly, he tells you he doesn’t, and you insist that he does and he protests that he doesn’t. And so it goes back and forth and back again, until you push him or he pushes you or someone pushes the other and you both go tumbling down that hill, end over head over feet, your descent only stopped by a patch of mud at the bottom.

He might be the son of the prefect, and he might be your best friend, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an enormous brat sometimes.

For a minute you’re both panting and red-faced and near tears, until he starts to giggle and you can’t help but join in, and only laugh harder at his outraged gasp when you hit him square in the chest with a chunk of mud.

And on the way back to your house, when you’re worrying your bottom lip thinking on how to explain to your mother why you’re covered in dead grass and damp bits of dirt, your robes most likely ruined, he tells you with the kind of confidence only possessed by a boy of ten years that everything will be fine, because you are a goddess and brave and strong, and you believe him.

***

When you are twelve years old, you hear of the school that Hypatia is running, because Orestes tells you about it when he starts going. You don’t like that he’s doing something without you. You don’t like being left behind and left out and you want to go to this school too. 

Your mother would easily say yes, but your father is reluctant, and it’s not that he thinks a woman shouldn’t learn philosophy and how to read and do arithmetic; it’s  more that enough other people in the city do think like this and he is convinced it will not be safe for you.

You care little for your safety. All you want, all you desire, is to be part of this group of scholars and to go to this school and learn. And what danger can possibly be there, when a woman is the one in charge?

So you beg and plead and bargain with your father, until a boy - now a young man - with curls like nighttime and eyes nearly as dark and twinkling with stars, steps in and says he’ll watch over you during your classes, and your father gives his permission. And so you start attending Hypatia’s school.

And when the older boys, boys who were nearly men and should know better, start to bully and deride you for desiring knowledge, when they taunt you and steal your scrolls and yank the ribbons from your hair, he steps in and tells them in no uncertain terms to leave you alone. Neither of your fathers, especially his, are particularly thrilled with the tussles he gets in on your behalf, or the black eye that one petulant snipe Cyrus gives him when he connects a punch when Orestes isn’t properly paying attention.

You frown at him as he sits in a chair next to the washbasin, a clean wet cloth clutched in your hand. He winces as you clean the blood from his cheek and gingerly probe the bruise swelling around his eye.

And when you softly ask why he’d do such a stupid thing, he tells you that even a goddess needs a hero to protect them sometimes, and even though you think him entirely ridiculous and heat comes unbidden to your cheeks, it makes you giddy to believe him.

***

When you are sixteen years old, you watch the boy with the wild ebony curls and liquid chocolate eyes fall in love with a girl. Only it isn’t a girl, it’s a woman, and you realize he’s been doing it for years.

Ever since your first day in the new city, he has always been by your side and you by his, an inseparable duo. You thought that would never change, but here you are, finding yourself forced to watch your best friend slowly but surely let his heart be ensnared by your very own teacher.

All he can talk about now, it seems, is Hypatia and her philosophies; Hypatia and her scrolls and the amazing things she is currently reading; Hypatia and her outlandish theories on the universe and the stars. Always Hypatia, all things Hypatia.

You never knew you could hate someone as amazing and wonderful as Hypatia.

It doesn’t seem to matter that his attentions are not equally returned, that she never fully indulges his lovesick whims and overreaching attempts to gain her attention. She continues to treat him as a student, and outside of class possibly even as a dear friend, and he continues to pine.

One afternoon you’re among the stacks of scrolls at the library, trying to find the parchment necessary to complete an assignment Hypatia has given you. You honestly would rather not find it and not even bother finishing your assigned work right now, and you must have some kind of look on your face because he takes the scroll you’re clutching from your hand and leads you to a mostly hidden nook in the room. And he stops talking about Hypatia for a moment to ask you what is wrong.

You want to tell him you miss him, that you want him back, that he’s making a mistake, but you can’t, you don’t. It takes a bit more coaxing, but you finally tell him you’re lonely and you wish there was someone you could find, someone you had to love as much as he had his person, he smiles and tells you that one day you will, because you’re a goddess and the right person will be pulled to the love and light you always emit. You smile back weakly and blink and look away and you want nothing more than to believe him.

***

When you are twenty years old, the library at Alexandria is destroyed.

It happens on a sunny afternoon not unlike so many others that have passed before, when suddenly the doors are broken down and the Christians rush in and the chaos ensues.

You’re sitting at a table with a quill in your hand, carefully writing your thoughts on a piece of parchment, when you hear the shouting in the entryway. And before you know what’s going on, shelves are being knocked over, papers tossed into the air like so much confetti, scrolls being thrown left and right. The air is beginning to smell acrid; you can see a few people setting small fires in some of the stacks.

The windows above you shatter as others throw rocks and even a chair, and you look around wildly for a way out. You don’t know which way is the right way to go, or even if there is a right way to go.

Everything is madness.

A pair of arms suddenly shoot out and grab you around the waist and your scream pierces the air like the horn on the top of the lighthouse trying to guide a ship to shore. Instead you realize you’re trying to drive this ship to its ruin, to free yourself from its depths with wildly swinging elbows and kicks, until you hear a familiar voice shouting your name over the ruckus.

You take in your assailant, all frantic curls and impossibly wide, dark eyes, and collapse into him in relief. Orestes tells you that you need to go, you need to get out, and to find both your fathers in the nearby council chambers and they’ll know where to go, where it’s safe. You ask him to come with you, but he shakes his head.

He tells you he needs to help save as many of the books and scrolls as he can, and you tell him to give you all you can carry and when you run, you’ll take them with you. So he loads your arms full to bursting, and when a rock flies by inches from your face and you drop the items at the top of the pile, he ignores that and pushes you roughly in the direction of the side exit. He says you must leave now, and he’ll be behind you before you know it.

He presses his lips to your temple ever so briefly, spares you a pained smile, and says you’re a goddess for the small bit of assistance you are giving.

As you run for safety, or what might be further peril, you spare a glance over your shoulder and see him helping Hypatia grab as much of the library’s contents as they can, and you don’t have another second to spare on deciding whether or not to believe him.

***

When you are twenty four, it’s your wedding day and everyone tells you this will be the most joyous day of your life so far. Your mother helps you dress in the softest, most expensively beautiful gown you’ve ever owned, and one of your sisters weaves a crown of laurels for your hair. Another sister makes a chain of wildflowers to wind around your wrist. You have never felt as beautiful as you do on this day.

Your father comes to the door of the chamber where your preparations are taking place, to let you know that the guests have all arrived and the groom is nearly ready, and it is almost time. He gives you a kiss on both cheeks, a gesture not common from him, and tells you he will be waiting out by the garden gate when you are ready. Your mother and sisters each kiss your cheek and leave as well, giving you a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts and emotionally prepare for the ceremony.

The door opens again a few minutes later and you turn to face the person behind it, Your eyes go wide, confused, as you take in the man before you. His dark curls are smoothed back and elegantly styled, his robes are regal and dashing, and his eyes are bright and nervous.

You tell him he shouldn’t be here.

He tells you that he knows, but he can’t help it, he has to see you. That he has been thinking of you all morning, wondering how beautiful you look, how happy you must be, and he just had to see you before you walk down the aisle to take your vows.

You bite your lip and tell him, again, that he shouldn’t be here and you can’t stop your voice from shaking. You turn your head away and look anywhere but at him.

And he repeats that he knows this, and he knows it’s wrong, it goes against all protocols, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop thinking that this is the last time he’s going to see you, see your smile and maybe hear your laugh, might be the last time your eyes can gaze upon each other and the last time he can hold you in his arms as his best friend.

You can’t think of a single thing to say to him, and even if you could, you’re certain your body will not cooperate.

Because he is not the one you are marrying. No, this marriage was arranged by your father and the Emperor, and there is the overwhelming chance that you must go back to Rome, and if you and your new husband leave Alexandria it is not likely you will ever return.

This might be the last time he can tell you that you shine with a light brighter than all the heavens, that you are beautiful and he hopes you will be happy, and you truly are a goddess among mortals.

And so Orestes does. He kisses you softly on your forehead, staying there a bit longer than propriety suggests, and quietly slips from the room. And you can’t see for the tears swimming in your eyes, and you want with all your heart to believe him, but you can’t help but find his words hollow and realize this will be far from the greatest day of your life.

***

When you are barely turned twenty-five, there is a knock on your door in the middle of the night. Perhaps knock is not the correct word, it’s more of an insistent pounding, and you swear under your breath at what could possibly be so important to rouse you out of bed at this unacceptable hour.

You pull a robe over your nightdress and open the door, and all the air leaves your lungs.

Four centurions are standing on your stoop, with a man who looks vaguely familiar; is he a general, maybe, or a captain? You can’t remember where you’ve seen him before, but it doesn’t matter, when he greets you solemnly and begins to speak, and tells you that your husband will not be returning from the front.

You did not return to Rome, as had originally been decreed. You stayed in Alexandria after your marriage because skirmishes had broken out along a few of the empire’s borders, and your new husband was called to action to fight for his ruler and the kingdom. Deep down, you could not have been more glad of it, for though you were born there, Rome had not been your home for over twenty years, and starting a new life there with a new husband would not have made it any more so. 

Your knees give out from under you and you consider for a moment that you should be crying, but you aren’t really sad and it strikes you as odd, but you can’t force the tears to come. You love your husband, in a way, but you’re not sad that he won’t be coming home. You’re relieved, and the instant that thought hits you and sends a jolt through your body, you start to laugh. The general, or captain, or whoever he is and his guards look at each other, then at you, and back to each other in utter confusion as you continue to giggle.

It all happens in mere seconds, and you’re sinking to the stone floor beneath, and a very familiar voice, one you have not heard since the day you were wed, tells the guards to stand aside and strong arms catch you before you can tumble completely.

His hair is wild and curly like he was just pulled out of bed himself, and his dark eyes shine with worry and compassion, and he asks you if you’re alright, and this is what finally breaks you from your laughter and brings wetness to your eyes.

Orestes holds you as you cry into his chest and you don’t see the pointed look he gives to the captain and the guards, nor do you see them pull back enough to close the door and wait outside.

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor in the front hall, or how you’ve possibly gotten his robes that soggy, but eventually you calm and the thoughts roll through your brain again. You are crying because someone has died, you realize this is true even if you’re not so very sad it was your husband. You’re crying because it was your husband and now there will be the mourning period you must dutifully attend as a grieving widow. And now that you’re a widow, eventually you will be expected to take another husband, if one even dares to want you.

And you’re crying because the one reason you were glad to stay in this forsaken city - in the Alexandria which had become your home - the one reason you hoped every day to lay eyes on again and every night resigned that you never would, was suddenly here, his arms wrapped around you and his voice whispering words of comfort into your hair.

You’re not sure when he picks you up and carries you back to your bed, carefully laying you on your pillows and pulling the sheet up to cover your shoulders. You’re not sure how long he stays, holding your hand and brushing stray tendrils of hair from your face. And you’re not sure how long you drift in and out, emotional exhaustion finally catching up and pulling you into nothingness, but before you fade out completely, you feel his thumb gently brush the remaining tears from your cheek, and feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead as he calls you a goddess and tells you to rest.

And as you finally give yourself to the twilight, you aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you choose to believe him, and you cling to it.

***

You’re not sure when it happens, to be honest. Time starts to blend together after that, you just know that you’re older and that it happens, and it isn’t right and it isn’t moral and it isn’t fair. Not to anyone involved, not to the city, not at all.

Hypatia has died, been murdered in the temple at the hands of those who profess themselves to be righteous saviors, brutally stoned and ripped apart as she stood there, proud and defiant to the end. How anyone could do such a thing to another human, especially one such as her, is beyond your comprehension.

It only gets worse when they burn her corpse on a pyre in effigy in the middle of the agora.

Word comes to you of the horrible events, and your first instinct is to find him, the way he found you, came to you when word of your husband’s death made its way back to the city. You set down the parchment you’re scribbling on the desk in your room and grab a dark cloak, partly to conceal yourself and party to ward off the slight chill from the wind.

You make your way to the prefect’s palace but you’re turned away at the gate by pair of surly-looking guards, and giving your name, and then your father’s name, and then the fact that your father reports directly to Rome makes no difference to them. They have  been told to let no one in, and let no one out.

No one except the person you’re looking for, apparently, because somewhere in the aftermath you discover that Orestes is nowhere to be found.

No one knows where he’s gone, and no one knows when he left, just that it was sometime between Hypatia being murdered and the fake funeral pyre. He had words with Cyril, someone told you, and then after that, no one knows.

And the Christians take over the city, much like the library so many years ago, and more people are burned at the stake, more people are murdered, more progress is halted, all in the name of what is right and what is true.

They will kill you, too, if they find you, or find out you’re looking for Orestes. It’s been years since you’ve really been in his presence in anything but the smallest of ways, especially in public, but you know there are still enough people who know how close you were. And if they know you used to be close, you know they won’t hesitate to come after you the same way they came for the philosopher. 

So you make inquiries as discreetly as possible, ask the gossips that litter the merchants’ stalls in the most innocent way possible, like you’re just a curious citizen asking what’s happened to the rule of order in the city. You even ask your father, once, but he doesn’t reply and his stony gaze makes you certain to never ask again.

And you bury yourself in scrolls and reading, in star charts and theories; in anything, really, that will take your mind off everything that is happening and your lost prefect. Your lost friend, your best friend.

The man you truly love, even if it’s taken you years of self-doubt and missed chances to fully realize and admit it, and now, perhaps do something about it.

One day as you’re sitting at your desk, quill in hand and head in the clouds, you think of something. Something that may be nothing, but it comes to you in a flash and you have an idea of where to go, where to find him, somewhere that few others might know.

You carefully pack a bag with some clothes and supplies, and a crudely drawn map that you sketch from memory and hope you’ve gotten right. It’s been so long since you were there but you’re fairly sure you remember the way. You know that Orestes would remember.

A long day’s journey and a fitful night’s sleep take you into the next day, and the afternoon turns into dusk when the hillside comes into view. It is not the same hill you tumbled down more than once when the two of you got into a scrum, but it’s the one that you would go when you could both sneak away and no one would notice for a few days, and you’d stare at clouds by day and the stars by night.

There is an outcropping set back from the hill, in the base of the mountains nearby, that a person wouldn’t see if they didn’t know where to look. You’d found it one day during a particularly vicious thunderstorm and taken refuge in the cave there, and you’d both commented on how someone had clearly found it once before you, for it was somewhat set up as a living space, with some mats and blankets and  a few rations left on makeshift shelves. Anytime you were on these excursions and it would rain, or you simply wanted to be out of the sun, that was where you would go.

And you hope against hope that this is where your answer lies.

You crest the hill and make your way to the foot of the mountain and you can’t help but smile, just a little, thinking this is where he would have gone, should have gone, as his name means of the mountains. In his abandonment, his escape from the city, could he have taken it literally? You’ve known him so long and it feels like the kind of thing Orestes would do.

The hovel comes into view, and you drop your pack, because he does too. Tending to a fire at the mouth of the cave, his back turned slightly to you, his curls a glorious disaster, and he’s grown a beard since last you’d seen him. It’s a look you’ve not seen on him before, but you quite like it, although you consider for just a moment you’d like any look on him at this moment, because he is real and he is standing right in front of you.

The sound of the pack hitting the ground makes him turn, and his dark eyes shine in the firelight, and he looks at you for long moments but doesn’t say anything. Orestes just stares at you, disbelieving, like you might be some kind of mirage or a trick of the light or even some kind of wicked spirit sent to torment him, and so he just stares.

Until you breathe his name.

He blinks once, and his face is suddenly full of hope and relief, all the tension and disbelief of the previous moments falling away, and your heart soars to the heavens and thumps ever so boldly in your chest, and your smile threatens to crack your lips, and the tears fall freely as words finally leave his mouth.

“My goddess.”

~end~

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[taetaespeaches]

“I knew you had a smart mouth but that was unreal.”

jungkook x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.5K

a/n: Hi lovelies!!! This is literally just Jungkook and Holly hanging out in his room at the dorm and one thing leads to another and they get a little intimate for the first time. Includes hand and oral stuff... that’s all lol. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :)) 

WIPING your palms on your leggings, you inspected your attire, wishing you would have ignored Jungkook’s suggested “casual and comfy” dress code and at least wore some jeans.

You took a deep breath as you raised your hand, knocking on the dorm door.

Jungkook has just arrived home from a trip to the United States where he was doing superstar shit like going to the Grammys and whatnot, no biggie. And as if you weren’t already nervous to see him, now you had to deal with an impromptu meeting with his best friend.

Jungkook initially told you that you two would have the dorm to yourselves, hence why you were standing in front of the dorm door right now instead of sitting on your couch with Jungkook in your very private apartment.

However, not even a full minute ago when you alerted him of your arrival, you received a reply that stated, “Taehyung is here, just a heads up.”

You considered yourself to be a pretty confident person, but things with Jungkook were still new and his members were the most important people in his life. And here you were, meeting one of them in your damn leggings and your black t-shirt that read in big white letters, “Be polite you fucker.”

Your internal panic over your clothing choice was suddenly halted when the door opened, an attractive man with light green hair standing there were a straight-faced expression.

His presence was almost intimidating until a wide smile spread across his face, stepping back and holding his arm out in a welcoming gesture. “Jungkookie,” Taehyung called out in a teasing tone, making you smile in amusement. You couldn’t help it.

As you entered the dorm, Taehyung read over your shirt for a moment, a low chuckle leaving his lips as Jungkook quickly rounded the corner from the hallway. His eyes were wide when they met yours and you both smiled in excitement of seeing each other.

“I told you I’d answer the door,” Jungkook cutely complained to Taehyung as he made his way toward you.

“I thought it was Peaches,” Taehyung responded innocently. He seemed pure.

Jungkook’s gaze left you for a moment as he neared, his eyebrows raised. “Is she coming over?” He asked Taehyung just as he appeared in front of you, a boy-like grin on his face as he grabbed your hand, easily intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you quietly but happily, your smile growing.

“Hi,” you responded, squeezing his hand. God you wanted to grab his face and kiss him. Turns out two weeks is a long time away from someone when that someone is Jeon Jungkook.

“Why? Would you like the dorm to yourself?” Taehyung asked playfully, both you and Jungkook looking to him to see him raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ok that’s enough,” Jungkook stated, you smiling at how his skin flush in embarrassment. He started toward his bedroom, pulling you away from Taehyung and evading any further teasing from his friend.

“I’m Taehyung, by the way,” the man called out after you, you turning to wave at him. Before you could respond with your own name he told you, “I know who you are, Jungkook doesn’t stop talking about you,” he smiled impishly, Jungkook groaning as you giggled.

“Thanks for the info,” you told Taehyung, you both sharing a nod before Taehyung walked out of the room into what you assumed was the kitchen, doing cute little head movements as he hummed to himself.

Turning back toward Jungkook, you ran right into his back, hard, as he halted, his hand on the doorknob. Snapping his head to look at you, he gave you an apologetic smile. “You ok?” He asked with sparkling eyes, you nodding with a giggle. “I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t have any expectations,” he told you sweetly, you smiling fondly at him. “I’ll even sit on the floor if you want.”

“Jungkook,” you giggled. Leaning toward him, you whispered, “Relax and show me your room,” your lips grazing the shell of his ear. Jungkook’s tongue pushed to the inside of his cheek as he let out a light scoff.

Opening the door, he led you inside, allowing you to walk into the room before he shut the door. You hesitantly dropped each other’s hands as you scanned the room, taking in the surroundings and noting how tidy everything was. As you eyed the bed, noting it was small, just a twin-size, his eyes were on you. You smirked to yourself before looking around more.

“What movie do you want to watch?” He asked you, you slowly peeling your eyes from the desk full of camera equipment to look at him with a smirk.

“I have no preference,” you told him, Jungkook immediately groaning, you giggling at his annoyance. “Show me one of your favorites,” you told him.

He hummed in thought, looking up to the ceiling. “What if you’ve seen it before?”

“Then I’ll see it again,” you said, Jungkook smiling with a nod. Making his way to his desk, he grabbed his laptop before turning to look at you.

“You can sit on the bed, make yourself at home,” he told you, you nodding as he turned back to his computer, searching for a movie. Feigning confidence, your heart pounding in your chest, you sat down on the bed, crossing your legs underneath you as you watched Jungkook click away on his laptop.

He turned to look at you with a little grin, making you give him one back, both of you obviously nervous but trying to conceal it. He placed the laptop toward the bottom of the bed before taking the spot next to you. His thigh bumped against your knee as he settled himself against the headboard.

The movie started with a blue screen, an image of Totoro and Mini Totoro featured with the “Studio Ghibli” lettering, making you gasp.

“Yeah?” Jungkook asked, you smiling widely as you waited to see which film would show up. At the mountain-scape, your eyes widened, shooting to Jungkook in excitement.

“Princess Mononoke?”

Jungkook smiled widely, his eyes sparkling as they crinkled in the corners. “You like it?”

“I love it,” you told him, looking back to the film. “It might be my favorite Ghibli film, tied with Spirited Away.” His eyes widened as he nodded, looking quite excited at your reveal. “What? Did I just pass some sort of Jungkook test?”

“A Jungkook test?” He chuckled, now intrigued by what you meant.

“Yeah, like everyone has their interests and we tend to quiz people we like on them, just to gage how they react. Kind of like a compatibility test,” you explained shyly, your face heating up the more you spoke.

“Ah,” he said in realization, wearing a boy-like smile. “Maybe you did just pass a Jungkook test then.”

Looking at him, you suddenly felt much more comfortable, giving you the confidence to stretch your legs out in front of you and scoot back so you were shoulder to shoulder with the man. He pretended not to notice your proximity, watching the laptop screen as you grinned to yourself, smitten with his nerves.

Resting your head against his shoulder, he instinctively leaned into a bit as you turned your face to leave a small kiss to his upper arm. “I missed you, you know,” you admitted in a soft whisper, your breath on Jungkook’s neck.

Turning to look at you, his eyes took on an expression of both sincere gratitude as well as desire. Stretching his arm to rest behind your head, you nuzzled into his hold, Jungkook’s other arm wrapping around your waist.

“Fuck, I missed you too,” he breathed out, as if he was relieved to finally have you in his arms. Looking up at his face, your eyes lingered on his lips, observing the way they quirked in the corners, yours mimicking the motion. “Taehyung wasn’t lying,” he added, your eyes widening just the slightest bit in question. “I talk about you constantly.”

“Oh, I know,” you teased. “You’re obsessed with me.” Jungkook giggled at the comment, his hand sneaking under your t-shirt to draw patterns on your bare hips. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. “What about you?” You bit your lip at the question. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Undetermined,” you said simply, Jungkook scoffing at the comment as his eyes traveled from your own down to your lips. Moving your hand to rest on the side of his face, you craned your neck toward him. Jungkook met you somewhere around halfway, attaching his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

It was a quick and natural progression into a more heated one, your lips working with one another’s, mouths open as you let out small moans. Jungkook’s hand grabbed the flesh of your hip as he rolled you both over, his hip positioned on the mattress, his opposite leg slotted between yours.

The movie was long forgotten, the dialogue providing nothing but background noise as your hand slid to the back of Jungkook’s neck, gripping the hair at his nape. You tugged on the strands, Jungkook letting out a small groan at the feeling before smirking against your lips.

His own hand grazed your side as he moved it toward your chest, his fingertips toying with the bottom edge of your bra. It was just a flimsy lace garment, no real structure, allowing you to feel the drag of his finger along your breast with little obstruction from the clothing.

The moan you released against his lips encouraged him to take it further as he squeezed your breast in his palm, positioning a finger inside the top of the cup. You reached your hand underneath his shirt on his back, pushing the material up to hint that you wanted it off. He took your cue easily, sitting up on his knees to remove his shirt, you tugging your own off as he did so.

When his shirt was pulled off of his head, his eyes raked in the sight of your upper body adorned in nothing but your delicate black bra, the sight eliciting a groan from him.

You and Jungkook had found yourselves in a few heavy make out sessions before, but clothes were never removed. This was new and exciting territory and you were unsure of how far you’d both take it.

His hands grabbed your waist, pulling you up as you moved with him, gracefully changing positions so he was seated against the headboard and you were sat on top of his lap. Straddling him, you rocked your hips teasingly atop him, feeling his hardened length underneath you, making the man let out a breathy chuckle mixed with a moan. It was by far the sexiest sound you’d ever heard to date.

Jungkook’s hands roamed your sides and rib cage as he appreciated your body for the first time. “You’re so beautiful,” he told you, his eyes dark as they lifted from your chest to meet your gaze.

Without a word, you reached behind yourself, unlatching your bra, Jungkook’s eyes darting to the strap that slid down your bicep. You held the clothing to your body, giving him a teasing smirk as Jungkook pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

“What do you want, Kookie?” You asked, Jungkook letting out a single breathy laugh as he ticked his head to the side.

Running his hands up your arms, he felt the material of the bra straps between his fingers. “May I?” He asked, tugging on them lightly.

Lowering your arms, you allowed the bra to slip off your frame, Jungkook pulling it from your arms as he tossed it to floor. He wasted no time in moving his hands to your chest, feeling the flesh appreciatively as he mumbled, “so pretty.”

You leaned down to kiss him passionately, Jungkook’s arms wrapping around your waist, tugging you closer to him. He moved his mouth from yours, trailing his lips down your neck and overtop your collarbones. You arched your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he wasted no time in moving his mouth to your breasts. Kissing you, he then switched to sucking and nibbling, causing you to let out a moan as you bit your lip.

The sound had Jungkook quickly flipping you onto your back as he hovered over you. His mouth was on yours in an instant, his hand feeling your chest just a bit longer before moving it lower down your body.

Dragging his finger along the waist band of your leggings, he paused just above your navel, flattening his palm against your abdomen. He paid close attention to the way your stomach contracted in anticipation, and he pulled his face from yours, separating the kiss to inspect your features.

“Is this ok?” He asked with a small smile, you letting out a breathy laugh against his lips as he lowered them to yours again, leaving a sweet peck.

“Yes,” you breathed out, kissing him harder as his hand slipped inside your leggings.  

His fingers made contact with your clit quickly, not having the self-control to tease you. You moaned lightly at the feeling, grabbing onto his shoulders as you continued kissing him, the action getting messier as he focused more on your pleasure.

When he slid a finger inside, you breathed out, “Oh, fuck,” against his lips, the man smirking as he pumped the digit. He rested his forehead against yours, your eyes locking on each other’s, both hooded and dark.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, you whining at the compliment as he added another finger. Your hands slid down his chest and his toned abdomen.  

“These are nice,” you complimented his abs, Jungkook giggling boyishly at the comment, the adorable sound a complete contrast to way he’s fingers worked your center as he used his thumb on your clit.

He kissed you again, you running your tongue over his bottom lip before biting it gently, Jungkook groaning at the feeling.

You used one hand to pull the waistband of his sweatpants away from his body, sliding your other hand inside, underneath his briefs. Wrapping your hand around him, Jungkook jolted above you, smiling shyly. You nearly cooed at the sight.

With his bangs hanging in his eyeline, his breaths becoming sharper as he began moving his hips, you swore you’d never seen anyone look sexier or more stunning.

“God, do you know how gorgeous you are?” You asked him breathlessly, Jungkook’s doe-eyes widening slightly as he stared at you, his gaze sparkling, a smile spreading on his face. He looked so sweet and shy but his fingers were sinful.

The pureness in his features vanished when he moved his mouth to your chest once again. Through a blissful huff, you moved the hand that wasn’t in his joggers to his wrist.

“I’m close, baby,” you breathed out, Jungkook looking up at you with excited shimmering eyes.

“Not yet,” he grinned mischievously just before he began kissing down your stomach. Reaching your leggings, he pulled his fingers from you to tear down your pants all the way to your ankles, pulling one foot out of them as he slotted himself between your legs.

As he pulled the garment off your leg, he knocked his fist against his laptop, almost sending it off the bed, but luckily his reflexes were fast enough, catching it at the last minute. Shooting you a shocked look, you laughed loudly, undeniably amused by the guy. He leaned over off the mattress to put the laptop on the floor before popping back up, his hair sideswept from his quick movement.

“Ok, where was I?” he asked, grabbing your ankles and tugging you closer to him, you squealing with a laugh as he slotted himself between your thighs.

He left a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up at you with those bambi eyes, but this time, they were dark and hungry. He kissed the other thigh, you letting out a short whine, Jungkook giggling against your leg.

“Is this what you want, baby?” He asked, kissing your center once before looking up at you. You bit your lip as you stared down at you. “Yeah?” He smiled before licking a strip, the sensation causing you to press your head back against the pillows as you bucked your hips up.

His tongue was magic, and though you were expecting some sort of intimacy with him that night, his enthusiasm for your pleasure took you by surprise. It didn’t take long for your high to approach with his face between your legs. Just like with all things Jungkook did, he was golden.

You placed your hands in his hair, lightly tugging the locks as your climax got closer and closer and when the pleasure peaked, you lifted your hips up, Jungkook having to use his arms to hold them down onto the bed as he worked you through your orgasm.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you groaned out once you caught your breath, Jungkook giggling as he crawled slightly up your body, crossing his arms over your abdomen and resting his chin on his wrist, watching you in utter fondness.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked, seeking praise, though he already knew he just fucking wrecked you.

“So good, oh my god, get up here,” you told him, the man staying stubbornly in place as he admired you and your nude form. “Guk, I wanna make you feel good too,” you pouted, Jungkook smiling adorably.

“I do feel good,” he told you, moving his face for a moment to leave a sweet kiss to your hip. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Jungkook,” you warned, the man simply laughing.

“No, tonight’s about you,” he told you. “You can thank me next time.” You raised your eyebrows at him and he smirked.

“Baby, you’ve been an amazing host tonight, but if you don’t let me get you off I’m gonna get really grumpy,” you told him, Jungkook giggling even more as he finally crawled up your body, hovering over top of you.

“Well,” he mulled it over, “I would hate for you to get grumpy.”

“Exactly,” you smirked. “So just sit back,” you reached for his hips, directing him to lie down with his back to the mattress, “and let me treat you.”

“You really don’t have to,” he told you genuinely as you got onto your knees, making your way down the bed.

“I want to,” you told him, grabbing his waistband and pulling his pants and underwear down his muscular thighs, dragging them down to remove them completely. Taking his length in your hand, you moved it up and down him a few times before lowering your face to him, licking up from the base to the tip, a choked moan leaving Jungkook’s lips.

You repeated the action a few times before swirling your tongue over the tip, then taking him into your mouth. As you put your mouth to work, your hand holding onto the base, Jungkook had one hand on your head, simply leaving it there as he gently massaged your roots, his other hand holding your unoccupied one. The gesture was sweet, and you couldn’t quite believe how gentle and courteous he was. Every squeeze of his hand, light scratch of his fingertips, and gorgeous moan that left his lips felt like a sincere expression of gratitude that you would be doing this for him.

Neither of you were sure how long you’d been down there, but suddenly he was telling you between groans, “I’m so close,” the sound of his voice making your center ache in desire.

You began pumping him with your hand, looking up at him, biting your lip as you fully took in his fucked-out state. His fringe was hanging in his eyes, his abdomen contracting as he took sharp breaths, his jaw slack as he looked down at you, his eyes shining in their hooded state.

He was by far the most exquisite human to exist.

When he came, he immediately looked bashful, noticing the evidence of his pleasure coating your hand and his abdomen. His cheeks were flushed and you found him to be both unbelievably hot while also being utterly adorable. How that was possible, you weren’t sure.

When his doe-eyes met yours, you grinned, Jungkook smiling back.

“Now,” you started, his eyebrows raising just the slightest bit. “The question is, do you feel good, baby?” You asked.

Jungkook let out a mixture of a scoff and a breathy laugh as you stood up on your knees, coming closer to him. Sitting next to him, you leaned down, kissing him sweetly on the lips, the meeting simple but full of appreciation and an intense fondness.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips as they curved into a smile. “I knew you had a smart mouth but that was unreal,” he teased, you cackling in his face, Jungkook giggling as he kissed your face repeatedly, placing them across your cheek and jaw.

“Get used to it,” you joked back, Jungkook smiling as he stared into your eyes before allowing his gaze to travel your face.

“I don’t think I ever will,” he admitted, nudging your nose with his, and kissing you once more.

[chenziee]

Here's a fun prompt for you..

Au where’s Law's a marine admrial purposely misinterpret the orders of taking care of Strawhats, and especially take out Strawhat Luffy...much tothe dismay of the world government and the enjoyment the Strawhats...

Thank you so so much for this prompt! It was so fun to work with and I really hope to explore it more than what I’ve got so far :D Seriously, thank you, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writng <33

Also sorry for being so slow;;

—————

Take out as in on a date, right?

[read on AO3 or below the cut]

Being called into the Fleet Admiral’s office first thing in the morning wasn’t Law’s favourite way to start a day. He supposed it wasn’t the poor messenger’s fault but he also couldn’t have been bothered to play nice when he got woken up after a grand two hours of sleep—sleep that he damn well deserved after an entire night out on a mission—and so he only glowered at the marine standing by the door to his room, hoping his stare would convey the displeasure he was feeling and make the man go the hell away.

Sadly, even though the pink haired Captain cowered under Law’s sharp glare, he stood his ground. “I’m sorry, Admiral, but the Fleet Admiral said it’s urgent,” he rattled off, speaking fast and unnecessarily loud, even waving his hands in front of himself as if he could deflect Law’s wrath if he tried hard enough.

“He always says that,” Law muttered, letting go of a frustrated groan. “Fine, I’ll be right there. There better be enough coffee to wake up an entire battleship by the time I get to his office.”

“Yessir!” The Captain, Cobie or something, Law was pretty sure, saluted before high tailing it out of Law’s room. Probably off to make the coffee himself.

Law only shook his head before letting himself fall face-first back into his pillow.

Five more minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

—————

“I called you in here three hours ago,” Sengoku said tiredly, tapping his fingers against his desk as he leaned back in his chair, regarding Law with a displeased stare.

Law thought to himself that if anyone had the right to sound tired, it was him, but he knew better than to provoke his grandfather when he was already this agitated. Law may have had zero respect for authority but he also didn’t have a death wish.

So instead, he only blinked slowly and sipped on his coffee. “Well, I’m here now. What did you want?”

Sengoku took a deep breath, looking like he was ready to chew Law out for his lack of enthusiasm but after meeting Law's blank gaze, he deflated. Instead, he simply rubbed the bridge of his nose and Law felt like he was having a flashback to when he was 13 and Cora-san first brought him to headquarters. Back then, Sengoku was also constantly getting angry at Law's jaded, nihilistic attitude before catching himself.

And Law was grateful to him for that. After Cora-san had explained who Law was, what had happened to him in Flevance and then later with Doflamingo, Sengoku always took great care not to lose patience with Law, showing him just as much respect and love as Cora-san did, no matter how badly Law acted.

And even though Law did give him as much cheek as he did to everyone else in a position of authority—or anyone under the World Government in general—he still loved his grandfather regardless.

Right now, however, it looked like Sengoku was closer to snapping at Law than he ever was in the past. Which was funny, because Law didn’t recall doing anything to incur his boss’ wrath. Not in the past 24 hours at least.

“Care to explain this report of yours?” Sengoku finally hissed.

Law frowned, picking up the papers that were pushed in his general direction. It was the report he had submitted late last night, a recount of the mission Sengoku himself had sent him on. And for once, he had followed his orders to a T so he had to wonder what exactly the issue was.

He turned to the side to look at Cora-san, who was sitting on the couch while Sengoku’s pet goat chewed on his coat. His dad only shrugged, accidentally spilling his own coffee all over his lap, and offering Law no explanation. So, the Admiral turned back at Sengoku. “I don’t understand,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he tossed the report back at the Fleet Admiral’s desk.

Sengoku let go of a sharp breath. He pulled the papers towards himself, flipping through them until he found the part he wanted and started reading out loud. “He was surprised at first but agreed immediately. His crew wasn’t too happy about me stealing their captain but he told them not to follow us. So, we went alone, thank fuck. I really wasn’t looking forward to eating while having to babysit all the other idiots as well.

“We ended up going to this cute place at the port since he wanted to be close to the ocean. Made them give us their best table with a view—the stupid Admiral thing is good for something at least. We ate (bill attached, thanks) and talked for a long while. I can’t be bothered to recount all that, but I want it to be known he waves his hands around a lot when excited and it’s really cute.

“After the place ran out of food, he took my hand to drag me off and we took a walk around the beach. I told him to just call me Law again but he keeps insisting on calling me Torao. Said he likes it because it “makes him feel warm” and I couldn’t say no to that face. I kissed him. And I think I’m really in love.”

Sengoku stopped reading then. He slammed his hand down at the report, anger radiating off of him as he glared at Law with his jaw clenched. “Are you going to keep playing dumb with me?” he growled when Law didn’t say anything.

Law simply returned his gaze impassively. “I don’t see the issue. I was on a mission and this is the mission report.”

“This is not a report, it’s a goddamned love letter!” Sengoku finally snapped and Law had to bite his cheek to stop himself from snorting at the way the Fleet Admiral's eye twitched in irritation. “Your orders were clear. Either arrest or kill Straw Hat Luffy before he causes even more trouble!”

Making sure his face was perfectly straight, Law looked Sengoku in the eyes and slowly replied, “You said, and I quote, ‘Take Straw Hat out before the Five Elders drive me insane.’”

Heavy silence settled over the room. Law watched calmly as Sengoku’s expression went from confused to surprised to completely blank before his entire face twisted in anger. It took the old man a while to form a coherent sentence but when he finally spoke up, his tone of voice was ice cold and obviously forced to stay level. “You know damn well what I meant.”

“Maybe,” Law couldn’t help but say, quickly hiding his smirk behind his coffee cup.

Sengoku took a deep breath, seemingly puffing up and Law thought he would finally explode but then he looked at Cora-san instead. “Roci, you try and tell him something!”

Law tilted his head back, looking at Cora-san expectantly. He paused from where he was now trying to get Baarbara the goat to let go of his pack of cigarettes and looked up. First at Sengoku, then his eyes slid to his son. “Good job, Law, I told you you could do it,” he said seriously and Law’s smirk only widened at his words.

“ROCI!” Sengoku shouted for the first time, making Cora-san jump, his cigarettes flying out of his hands and out the window.

At least he wouldn’t be setting himself on fire anytime soon, Law thought to himself as he shook his head at the man’s fumbling.

“What, dad? I’m just happy he’s happy,” Cora-san said, sitting back in the couch as if nothing happened.

“Normally I would agree but not in this case. You’re his father, do something about this before anyone hears about it!” Sengoku ordered, gesturing between Law and his report.

Cora-san exchanged a look with Law before tilting his head at Sengoku. “You want me to scold him for breaking the rules? Me, who burned down like five hospitals for him when he was little?”

A few beats of heavy silence passed before—

“You did what?!”

—————

It was only an hour later, after Sengoku thoroughly chewed both his son and grandson out, that Law and Cora-san were finally able to leave the Fleet Admiral’s office, and even though Law stopped paying attention five minutes in, he was still glad that was over. He could only listen to an old man go on and on about law and marines and pirates and hospitals for so long before wanting to go drown himself.

“So it’s been two years,” Cora-san noted as they set off together in search of more coffee for Law. “Can I meet your boyfriend now that you finally had a proper date?”

Law chuckled at how eager Cora-san sounded. He had been bothering Law over this since he and Straw Hat started dating and Law would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to cave. “I don’t know if I can deal with the both you and his crew of idiots at the same time.”

“Why?” Cora-san whined.

“Because,” Law started slowly, shooting Cora-san a look, ”I feel like someone would end up drowning by the end of it and I’m not sure I would be willing to save either of you. You’d probably end up pulling out some baby pictures or something else stupid.” And Law really really wasn’t up for dealing with that.

“I wasn’t going to! But thank you for the idea.” He smiled brightly, and Law wanted to be mad at him but he couldn’t—not when he looked at him like that.

One more reason to keep the two of them away from each other. Embarrassing sharing of childhood and love confession stories aside, Law’s heart probably wouldn’t be able to handle two of these blinding grins at once. He would just end up agreeing to anything these two idiots came up with.

[soulangel]

Mating with the Alpha-Chan

Summary: Finding out you’re basically the soulmate of your “boss at work” you never expected the feeling you had for him to rise so quickly, and so strongly. If only there was a way to show him just how much you wanted to be with him. Oh wait....there is a way...and you never expected the pain that came with it.

Group: Stray Kids; Werewolf Alpha!Chan x Human fem!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, suggestive

Warnings: mild degradation, choking, marking, biting, dry humping, praising, talk of mating, thigh riding, reader against a wall, heavy makeout

Word Count: 4.6k

Masterlist     Stray Kids Masterlist

    ‘Is this the right place?’ You thought to yourself while glancing down at the sheet of paper in your hand.

    650 Gongman St. You look up at the address on the side of the building. 650 Gongman St. Well, this was where you needed to be. And this is where your new life starts from here on out. You were to be Bang Chan’s new stylist, for some reason he’d specifically asked for YOU instead of any of the other candidates who asked to be his stylist. “Why me?” You’d asked your best friend who shrugged her shoulders in response.

    “Maybe he finds your shyness attractive? Who cares. Go get you some Bang! Everyone knows he’s the best idol out there to his stylists. He pampers the shit out of them. You’d get such nice things!” She replied with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, “maybe you could give him something in return.” She snickered. “Like your vir-” “AND WE’RE DONE WITH THAT!”

    If only you knew just how true her words would be after your first day working for him.

    “Chan, this is Y/N. You met briefly during the interview, but now she’ll be your new stylist. Have fun you two, I gotta get the set ready.” Your boss commented lightly before disappearing through the dressing room door.

    Chan stared at you with a slightly tilted head, then gave you a bright smile. “Well hello there! As she said, I’m Chan. It’s nice to officially meet you Y/N.” He said, giving you the smallest of bows before offering to shake your hand.

    You gave him the same courtesy and only managed a small grimace of a smile in response. “N-Nice to meet you too.” You mumbled softly, your right hand gripping your left arm in your worry of making a decent first impression; or second impression in this case.

    While you glanced down to the ground in your tiny embarrassment, you missed the look Chan gave as he watched you. His eyes darkened while his gaze seemed to take on a predatorial look, his canine sinking into his bottom lip at the innocent and naïve impression you were giving him. Oh how much he enjoyed seeing you looking so….so…..pure in that moment. How he wanted so badly to change that. “S-So then. I know this is your first day, but what were you planning on doing first? Makeup, or wardrobe?” He asked you, hoping you didn’t hear the stutter in the beginning of his sentence.

    With that question though, your demeanor changed immediately to a stylist, and you got straight to work. “Sit down in the chair for me please. We’ll do your makeup first and then move on to the clothes.” You told him seriously, moving into your work mode to the point Chan wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same person who was shyly greeting him not even a minute ago.

    He did as told, mainly because he was in shock at how your personality did a complete 180. He shouldn’t have been surprised. His personality did that a lot too; especially when he was onstage or, ahem, in his bedroom. But the sight was definitely a minor turn on for him as you stood in front of him, right in front of his knees where he could easily pull you in and trap you if he really wanted to. But he wouldn’t….no….he’d wait just a little and reel you in slowly. He was going to have a lot of fun corrupting you.

    He gave you the smallest of smirks as you focused so hard on getting his makeup and hair just right, not even paying attention to him staring at you. You’d then spent the next hour preparing him for his first part of the set going on outside his dressing room, trying your hardest to focus on getting as much of the concept correct as you could. “Hmmm, that should do it.” You finally muttered, stepping away from your masterpiece of a man, trying your hardest not to blush at the smile he gave you as he stood up off the chair to look in the mirror properly.

    He nodded his head in satisfaction before turning to you and opening his arms up, making you assume he wanted to give you a hug. You stared at him in confusion for a moment before he chuckled. “Isn’t it time to pick out my attire for the shoot? I don’t think I can walk out in this clothing and call it alright.” He mentioned, causing your cheeks to flush crimson.

    “R-Right! Oh, I’m so sorry.” You squeaked, rushing to grab the clothes for him to change into.

    Honestly, he didn’t even mind all that much that you made such a minor mistake. It was your first day, you were trying to do everything perfect, and his presence could be a little intimidating-he’d been told that a lot. Maybe it was the alpha in him roaring to come out around others, or maybe it was just you found him that attractive. Either way, the sulky expression on your face definitely made his pants get a tiny bit tighter. “Actually, before I get changed, do you mind if I slip out to the bathroom real quick?” He asked, pointing to the door sheepishly.

    You stared at him in surprise, cloth grasped in your hands. “U-Uhhh no? You can go, do you need to ask me?” You wondered, tilting your head in confusion as his frame all but ran out of the room and down the hallway.

    You went back to looking at the cloth in your hands as your brain went over the concept again and again. “This concept is going to kill me.” You whispered softly, a crimson flush to your cheeks once more at the thought of your bias and the man you’re currently working with being dressed up in the pieces you picked out.

    While you were whispering to yourself these things, Chan had managed to put air back in his lungs, and calm his raging hormones enough to soften the semi hard on in his pants. He was still close enough he could hear you talking to yourself, and hear the blood pumping through your veins at an elevated rate. Oh? Just what exactly were you thinking about to get you so worked up? You’ve been a little excitable since he first met you in the morning...or at least until you got in your work headspace. “What are you thinking about Angel?” He asked himself, his alpha purring in his chest as he thought about you.

    He realized the moment he met you in the interview...that you were his mate. It was just instinctual that he would hire you to be closer to you. And the fact you seemed so innocent and pure just stirred his inner wolf something fierce to the point he wanted you constantly. Ergo, the issue he was currently dealing with of calming his hormones on his way back to you. He could hear your mumblings still as he made his way into the dressing room, quietly watching you in surprise and fascination at the fact you were bouncing around the room looking at all the clothes and makeup you didn’t get a chance to see at first. “Oh my gosh this stuff is so good! But so expensive, what?! Oh my gosh-OH!” You were twirling around so much, you stopped in the middle of the room in shock when Chan’s figure leaning in the doorway caught your attention.

    You immediately bowed in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! How long were you standing there?! L-Let’s get you into these clothes!” You gushed quickly, rushing over to the garments you carefully laid on his chair for him to change into.

    He could only smirk and give you a small nod of the head while you both prepared him for his shoot.

    And that was how it would normally go for the first few months you worked for him. The way he so patiently waited for you to do your work, and even waited after the shooting was done to walk you to your car. He treated you so carefully and gently, you were positive his actions were slowly making you fall for him. And that terrified you greatly. 

    “Y/N! You okay Doll?” His familiar voice caught your attention and earned a surprised squeak from you.

    You quickly nodded your head and then shook it a little to break out of your thoughts. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, just got lost in thought I guess.” You replied, scrunching your nose a little in confusion.

    He could hear your heartbeat quicken, and glanced over at you with a small frown, wondering what could be going through your pretty little head to get you so worked up. “You sure? You seem a little flushed.” He commented, standing up off the seat to step closer to you.

    He didn’t like knowing something was bothering you enough to send your heat in a panic, and god did he wish he could read your mind to see what it was. Anything at all he wished for so he could help you calm down and relax. Without much thought, he gently leaned down and kissed the crown of your head, his large and warm hands cupping your cheeks affectionately. He could feel your face heating up and pulled away from you, looking at you in concern. “Do I need to take you home? I can cancel the shoot today.” He offered quickly, pushing small strands of hair away from your reddening face as you ducked your head in embarrassment.

    He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, you know what I am now...you know I can hear your heartbeat and feel the heat of your face. What’s wrong?” He muttered softly, fighting his wolf’s urge to make you answer him.

    You bit your lip and hid your face in your hands. “I-I’m just trying to….I don’t know...I-do you mind if I go home? I’m not feeling too well.” You whimpered out finally, one hand resting against your temple to ease the headache forming in your brain. 

    Before you could even look up at him, Chan had disappeared to go speak with the director and managers, telling them he wasn’t feeling all that good today and to just postpone the shoot until next Monday. Something everyone was not happy about, but still understood nonetheless. It was rare for him to call off such a large shoot, and the fact he played the part of “not feeling well” so well, they thought he might need to go to the hospital. He just shook off their concerns and told them he just needed a bit of rest.

    The moment he reappeared behind the door-about to walk in, you were slowly packing your tools up and putting everything away while mumbling to yourself how ridiculous this whole thing was. “So what if the guy who hired you is a werewolf. You can have feelings for a werewolf….right?” You asked out loud, halting your movements once the thought was out in the air.

    Chan felt his heart stop at the words you uttered, and a large grin broke out onto his face before he quickly opened the door. “Alright Doll, time to go.” He told you with that huge smile.

    You jumped at his sudden appearance and squeaked loudly, dropping the brushes in your hands. “Ch-Chan! Wh-you can’t just yell like that. We don’t all have your hearing.” You chuckled awkwardly while bending down to pick up the brushes scattered along the floor.

    He grabbed the couple that managed to make it to his feet and gave you a sheepish grin in response. “Sorry I just got excited. Sometimes the wolf likes to take over.” He replied quickly, handing you the brushes in one hand while the other scratched his neck awkwardly.

    You slowly took the objects from him, and gave him a tiny smile in response, tilting your head. “So the wolf likes to act like a puppy?” You asked back, hiding a snicker at his surprised look.

    The whining from his wolf made it hard for him to disagree with you in that moment, knowing you were the only one able to bring this side out of both him and his inner alpha. So he could only sigh and shrug his shoulders weakly at your giggle, finding more joy in your laughter than trying to prove you wrong. “Okay okay, stop laughing at my pain. You can do that over lunch.” He suggested, holding his hand out for you once he saw you finished packing up your makeup.

    It was your turn to smile at him as you immediately took his hand and let him pull you out of the whole building….and to his red motorcycle parked on the top of the parking garage. “Oh my god. This is YOURS?!” You squealed, rushing over to it in excitement. 

    He grinned and nodded his head, straddling the vehicle quickly before handing you a helmet. “Ready for the ride of your life?” He asked you, to which you nodded and jumped on behind him, reminding him to stop by your car to drop your makeup off first. It was way too expensive for you to just LEAVE OUT in the open.

    Cue a few months later with you now DATING the alpha wolf sat in your chair. Yes the company knew, along with most of the people who worked with you. They all tried doing something about it, by either sabotaging your station, starting rumors, or even taking it straight to the boss; who laughed in their face. Because Chan was their pride and joy of the company. He was the best, and always brought in excellent revenue for everyone. Why would they want to take away something from him if you were the thing making him happy at work now? A mad Chan equaled terrible things happening, and a weird growly sound always behind the humans who seemed to piss him off. It just made more sense to keep you around for him. Plus, according to him, you were pretty to look at which made him happier than ever.

    He wasn’t really surprised when you’d finally put in your two week notice and explained to him that you were ready to move on, and find another job with the new experience you’d gained from working with him. And the newfound confidence his alpha instilled in you just by being in his embrace made him purr in satisfaction. He’d explained everything to you, from the imprinting to the fact that you were his mate. The only concern was that you weren’t sure you were ready to give him the one thing still keeping you part of the human world. Because once you mated to him, you’d be unable to be away from him again, and that terrified you more than liking him in the first place. You’d tried bringing it up with him, but he’d always change the subject to keep you from going into a panic about the whole situation. How could he ask you to uproot yourself entirely just for him? He thought you would want to stay in your own little world for as long as possible, maybe a few years at least.

    So he was quite surprised when you caught him after he came home late one night in the hallway and practically attacked him with a kiss, your arms and legs attaching to his frame as your tongue tried poking through his lips to play with his own. “Well hello to you too Angel.” He grunted, smiling into the kiss when you nibbled on his lips.

    You huffed and hid your face in his neck, nipping his skin while trying your hardest to pull yourself against him. You didn't want any space in between you two anymore. “Channie. I missed you.” You whined out with a pout, licking your lips when he stared at you in complete adoration.

    He gently set you on the ground and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the crown of your head. “I missed you too Doll.” He chuckled.

    You shook your head and leaned up to kiss his jaw, about ready to suck a welt into the skin before thinking better of that and nipping his skin instead. As much as you wanted to leave a mark on him, you had a feeling his new makeup artist wouldn’t appreciate the dark spots all along his face and neck. “I-I…” You started, biting your lip as you thought about how to get the sentence out properly.

    He stopped immediately and stared at you in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Did you try breaking up one of the boys’ fights again?” He jumbled out, pulling away from you to look at you from an arm’s length and spin you around for any injuries.

   He sniffed the air around you for any unfamiliar scents and heard his inner alpha howl the moment he scented the issue in your pants. He smirked and trapped you against the wall, leaning down a little to look into your eyes. “Ahhhh. I see what’s going on now.” He practically purred out finally.

    You whimpered and reached for him, biting your lip awkwardly. “I-I just…..It started this morning and all I could think of was...y-you...and….p-please…” You shuddered as his hand trailed along your body while you tried explaining yourself.

    He hummed in response to let you know he was listening, and slowly rested his body against yours, allowing his right leg to slip between yours and gently press against your core. You hissed and opened your mouth to say something when his mouth caught yours and swallowed your sounds. His tongue immediately found yours and gently started wrestling in playfulness, wanting to see just how needy you were. Your soft mewls gave him his answer quickly after and he rested his large hands on your hips, guiding you to start grinding down on his leg. You wasted no time following the rhythm of his hands, nipping at his lip and gently tugging on his shirt to pull him even closer to you. “That’s right Angel, keep going. You’ll feel so good.” He praised, letting his left hand run through your hair as his lips trailed down your jaw and neck as light as a feather.

    You shivered at the feel and felt your hips stutter in their rhythm of grinding. You tilted your head back and bit down on your lip, gripping the cloth of his shirt in your hands. “Ch-Channie I-mmmm!” You tensed at the feeling of his thigh muscles tightening against your core, and felt him smirking against your skin.

    He chuckled faintly and nipped at your neck, just barely letting a canine brush your skin. “You feel so good Doll. So good for me.” He mumbled lowly, almost purring in satisfaction at the whimper bubbling on your tongue.

    Your hips started moving quicker on their own accord until you were a mewling, whining mess about ready to come undone on his thigh alone. “I-I’m gonna….Channie….” You repeated over and over, breathing a little heavier the more you tried talking.

    The hand in your hair slowly moved along your head and down to your neck, right where he’d just nipped the skin. “So close Doll, so close.” He whispered in your ear, softly nibbling the lobe as you feverishly continued grinding against him.

    You leaned into his neck and bit him a little bit, earning a grunt of surprise. “O-Ohhhh….Alpha please.” You mewled while burying your head in his chest.

    Without a second thought, Chan pressed you back against the wall with his hand gently grasping at your neck, his eyes flashing a shade of gold you’d never seen before. “What did you just say?” He growled out, giving you a narrowed eyed look. 

    Being too far gone in pleasure to understand what you’d said, you could only whimper and weakly move your hips against him. “A-Alpha...p-please.”

    He pulled you into his chest and wrapped your legs around his waist, quickly walking you both into the bedroom where he laid you down and crawled on top of you. Before you could say anything to him, he captured you in the most heated and lustful kiss the both of you had shared yet. You were so lost in the desire and feeling of it all, you thought for sure you would pass out. He growled lowly and slowly pressed himself against you, his hips slowly started to rut against you as you ran your fingers through his hair. “That’s it Doll. S-So good.” He groaned, attacking your neck in open mouthed kisses and soft nibbles.

    You gasped softly and felt yourself press up against him, a knot starting to form in your stomach from the buildup of pleasure coursing through you. “I-I’m close Chan. I-....please.” You whispered breathlessly, letting your head fall back against the bedsheets.

    He continued to grind against you, a little bit harder this time while sniffing at your neck, his hand quickly moving towards his face to gently wrap around where he was sniffing. “Can I make you my little bitch, Doll? I’ll make you feel so good forever.” He groaned against your skin, opening his mouth to let out the most beautiful moan you’d ever heard.

    In that moment you knew you wanted to hear it again, and again. Of course when you were about to answer him, the slight squeezing around your neck brought you back to the present and caused you to moan loudly to the best of your abilities. “Alpha I-I…!” Before you even knew what had happened, your back had arched off the bed as the most delicious feeling ripped through your body tremors shaking you as you mewled and whimpered uncontrollably.

    Chan’s hand disappeared from around your throat then and instead his lips were kissing along the sides of your neck, praises being whispered into the air as he slowly and gently continued grinding against your core. Once you calmed down from your high and were able to stare at him through your tired eyes, you smiled a little and tried your best to sit up. “Channie.” You whispered out, getting pulled into a sitting position and pressed against his chest immediately.

    He stroked a hand through your hair and along your side soothingly, humming quietly so you know he heard you. You sighed and kissed his neck, leaning heavily against him. “W-Will you...um...will you bite me?” You hesitantly asked, biting your lip afterward in wait for his response.

    He pulled away from you in surprise and cradled your head in his hand. “You know what that means Angel. Are you sure?” He asked you, staring at you in wait as you tiredly tried coming to a decision.

    You just nodded your head and kissed his wrist. “I’m positive now. Please.” You sighed out, trailing your kisses up his arm and across his chest. 

    He grunted in surprise at your boldness and hummed a little. “Alright then.” He whispered, pulling your head up gently to kiss him.

    You sighed and tilted your head a little to kiss him easier, your hands moving up his chest and into his hair. “Channie please.” You whispered across his lips.

    He kissed you one more time before going for your neck, quickly latching onto the skin and leaving a large purple mark along the junction of your neck and shoulder. You could only whimper at the feeling as he took his time marking your neck with small and large hickies in random areas. “That’s right Doll, let me hear you. Tell me how good I made you feel.” He mumbled over a large mark, licking it gently and making you squirm in his grasp.

    You whined and moved to straddle his lap, quickly starting to grind yourself against him for friction. “Oh Channie. My Alpha.” You purred. 

    He growled at the tone in your voice and accidentally bucked his hips into yours roughly, earning a yelp in surprise from you. He didn’t think much of it as his mouth latched onto a particular spot on your neck that had you seeing stars, your small cry giving him just the spur he needed to hold you against him. His hips began rutting against yours quicker and harder than before and you were only able to weakly latch onto his shoulders. “That’s it Doll, call me like that again.” He grunted, his arms encasing you while his hand gently moved to the nape of your neck to guide it to the side.

    He kept his hips grinding against yours to bring you that much closer to your high, waiting for you to tilt over the edge again before he could give you what you wanted most today. And if what he was smelling was anything to go by, with your wonderfully sweet arousal in his nose, you were close again. He could feel your hips stuttering against his as you opened your mouth to say something, only letting out a small cry in bliss. “M-my Alpha!”

    The feeling of your orgasm hit stronger than before the moment you felt his teeth at your neck. With your core throbbing and contracting around air and your breathing coming shallowly, you could see spots behind your eyelids as he bit into you, the endorphins from his saliva mixing into your bloodstream to give you such a high, you were positive you wouldn’t want anything else with anyone else as long as you had him with you. You mewled your happiness and smiled blissfully as he allowed himself a moment to bask in the feel of your skin in his mouth. But after a few seconds he gripped you tighter and clenched his eyes shut, knowing it wasn’t going to last much longer before you were begging him to release you.

    It was a good thing he did too, because a couple seconds later you were whimpering for a different reason; the burning sensation in your neck proving to you just what it meant to give yourself over to him. “Ch-Chan...Channie please….it….it hurts.” You cried, clawing at his shirt for relief.

    He pressed your head into his chest and bit his lip at hearing your cries. “I know Angel. I know. It’ll be over soon. I love you. I love you so much.” He whispered, stroking your hair softly as you continued to thrash around in his grip.

    As a last ditch effort, you went as far as to bite him in the chest, just above his heart. Something his inner wolf was entirely enjoying if the howling was anything to go by. He groaned softly and held you closer to him-if that were possible-until you were calmed down from your fit. He could feel your body slump against his chest and sighed softly when he heard your heart rate return to normal. “Angel?” He whispered gently, looking down at your face to check on you.

    You tiredly hummed in response and nuzzling your face up into his neck, giving him the perfect view of the bruised mark he left on you. A perfect, beautiful little mark he knew was going to be on your skin forever. He sighed a little at feeling your body curling up against his that little bit, and picked you up to rearrange you in his lap until he was able to lay back on the bed with you cradled perfectly to his chest. “You did so well for me. So well Doll.” He mumbled fondly, kissing the top of your head.

    You could only hum in response and unconsciously nibble his skin; something he found you both really enjoyed.

~~~

Taglist: @channiewoo , @kpop-in-new-albion , @solacenebula , @sailing-goddess-of-ateez , @strawb-lix​ , @you-did-well-moon​

[fiveisnumber1]

Blast to the Past - A Timeless Side Piece

Here’s like a somewhat short little piece, my brain just decided to come up with this concept after a conversation with @oceanspray5 so I wrote it down. If you read it, let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Thanks ❤️

August 6th, 2043

Like most mornings, you sat around the kitchen table having breakfast with your family. Typically all of the Hargreeves siblings would be present but they had gone out for their own breakfast this morning to celebrate Vanya’s promotion as conductor of the local orchestra, leaving you, Five and your children to have breakfast without them. Your darling husband, Five, sat to your right and held your hand as he drank his morning coffee. And across the table sat your two beautiful children. You smiled as you listened to your daughter Lia detail how she and some of her cousins were going to go shopping for first day of school outfits this coming weekend. On the other hand your son, Penn, was quiet. He pushed around the meal on his plate as he looked between his food and his father. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in his head but you knew that it had to deal with Five. Giving Five’s hand a squeeze he looked towards you. With a slight tilt of your head you gestured towards your son just at the right time for Five to catch his eye.

“Is something wrong buddy? You’ve barely touched your breakfast.” Five questioned

Penn stayed silent as he looked at his dad. Something was wrong and it had been weighing on his mind for a while. Straightening his posture he put down his fork as he took a deep breath. The rest of the family looked on quietly as Penn turned to Five and asked,

“Hey dad, you think I can try traveling back in time a few minutes?”

Five knew this topic would come up at some point when he started trying to teach him to time travel. He was his son, so of course he’d want to do more than what were in his capabilities. It just wasn’t feasible to move up to minutes given that he barely had control of traveling for seconds. Regretfully, Five looked at his son as he answered,

“Not yet, we’ve only hit going back in time 30 seconds.”

Penn’s face dropped as disappointment spread across his face. Seeing the change in demeanor Five tried to brighten things up by adding,

 “Y’know what though, I’ll let us shoot for 45 seconds today. How about that?”

“Dad, I’ve been practicing seconds for the past 6 months, I want to do more.” Penn complained

Five looked at you and saw the concerned look on your face. Five was trying to be reasonable in terms of his son’s feelings. He knew that getting to start learning to time travel was exciting to him given that he was only able to start learning those six months ago, but excitement did not equal experience.

“Penn, I appreciate your enthusiasm but your mom and I have explained on multiple occasions how dangerous time travel can be.” Five elaborates

“It’s taken your dad years to get to the level of control he has now.”  You added

Penn could feel frustration build up inside him. He wanted to time travel in the same way his dad could. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t move up to minutes. He definitely had mastered seconds so what was the hesitation with bringing up the amount of time? Standing up from his seat he gave a pointed look as he exclaimed,

“I’m ready to make that jump! I’m not asking for years just a few minutes!”

Five was shocked at his son’s outburst. He had never seen his son this upset and even in times where it came close he still had never shown this much. He knew it would upset him, but Five was doing this for his own son’s good. Sitting up straighter, Five looked at his son.

“Penn, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Five firmly replied “We need to start small so there are no large consequences.”

The beginnings of sparks started to fly off of Penn as a blue glow whirred around his hands. You and Lia winced at the minor disturbance Penn was causing due to his anger. Instead of saying anything more though, he jumped away from the kitchen and with a flash of blue he was gone. Wanting to help her obviously distraught brother Lia quickly stated,

“I uh...need to make a phone call...”

“Who do you need to call at 10 am?” You questioned

“Oh y’know...uh...Spiderman?” Lia replied confused before quickly adding “Anyway bye.”

And just like that your daughter had also flashed away to follow her brother. With both your children gone from the table you and Five sat in a silence. Pulling his hand from yours, Five dropped his head into his hands.

“Ugh, I feel like my father right now.” He lamented

Your heart broke at his statement. You knew that Five was nothing like his father and constantly loved and cherished your children. He would give the entire world to them if he could. Having him compare himself to that shitty excuse of a man was so saddening because you knew he was only trying to keep Penn safe. Placing a hand on his back you leaned in closer as you tried to comfort him,

“Hey, you know you’re not your father. You didn’t say no to him, just not yet.”

Five looked up from his hands and over at you, the pain in his eyes was on full display.

“I know but it’s like staring myself in the face. I got mad I couldn’t time travel like I wanted during a meal with my family and here he is doing the same.” Five elaborates

“Darling, he has wanted to time travel just like you ever since he could comprehend the subject. He wants to be just like his dad.” You try to affirm

“I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes as his dad.” Five commented looking away from you

He knew the decision was the right one but nevertheless he felt so awful not being able to make his son happy. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek you bring his gaze back to yours. Giving him a slight smile you reply,

“I know. Maybe if we just give him a few minutes to cool off everything will be okay.”

“I hope so. I hate saying no to our kids.” Five stated

Your smile widened as you brought your face closer to your husband’s. Taking on a less serious tone you commented,

“You hate saying no to anyone in this family,”

You could see a smile start to reappear on his face. Oh how he loved you so dearly. Closing the space between you two, he placed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back he smiled as he responded,

“Especially you, ma chérie,”

Quietly, the two of you sat back in your chairs sipping you coffee as you patiently waited for your children to come back to the table. Upstairs though Penn flashed into the living room as he paced back and forth talking to himself,

“Ugh, it’s no fair. I wan’t to time travel more than just seconds. I’m ready for minutes!”

Flashing in a second later, Lia leaned against the living room door frame as she listened to her brothers rant. Crossing her arms over her chest she commented to him,

“You know you’re lucky you even get seconds. I can’t learn time travel for another two years.”

“Thats’s because you’re 13. you’re too young.” Penn retorts “Me on the other hand, I’m 15 which means I’m old enough to learn,”

Flashing away from the door frame Lia reappears closer to her brother floating upside down in the air.

“Just because you’re old enough to learn doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to do it.” Lia remarks before sticking her tongue out

“This is none of your business you car floor french fry.” Penn replies pushing her face back

Walking away from her, Penn makes his way towards the side of the room the piano was one. Transporting herself from her molecules from her position in the air Lia appears sitting criss-cross on top of the piano. 

“It totally is my business,” Lia explains catching her brother’s attention, “You had this conversation in front of me dumbass,”

Penn rolled his eyes at his younger sister before using his powers to knock her off the piano top.

“Hey! You can’t just do that!” Lia complains 

Standing up from the floor, Lia looks towards her brother who hard turned away from her again. Watching him she had noticed that Penn had taken up a position as if he was about to take off running.

“What are you doing?” She asked

“Just leave me alone, so I can jump back in time a minute.” Penn huffed

“But dad said no.” Lia reminds

“Lia, I can do a minute. It’s just 30 seconds more, I can’t fuck up 30 extra seconds.” Penn states still not looking back

“But dad-” Lia tries to say again

Penn was done with this. Whipping around he narrowed his eyes on her as he exclaimed,

“Forget what dad said alright! I’m doing it!”

Quickly he whipped back around as he took off on a running start, blue energy starting to form around him. Trying to stop her brother, Lia flashed to him attempting to tackle him to the ground. The two of them felt as the whirring of energy stopped. Both children stood up from the ground as they brushed themselves off. Annoyed that Lia had ruined his time travel practice he angrily scolded,

“Why did you do that? Something could’ve gone wrong.”

Lia didn’t reply. All she could manage to do was stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at something behind him.

“What’s with the stupid expression?” Penn questioned

Instead of saying any words she slowly raised her hand as she just pointed to whatever she was looking at behind him. Turning around, he looked in the direction of what his sister was seeing and was met with a sight he never expected to see. A depressing portrait of a younger version of his father staring down at him from over a fireplace. With the sudden realization of what had happened slipping in all Penn could manage to say was,

“Oh fuck.”