#like I realize we’re both old and have actual lives now

[namedforvalor]

.

[cherrysnax]

trying not to post too much during the strike to keep focus on Everything but I need to get out of my head a lil

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[panic-at-the-fiction]

A problem to work with

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a problem to work with. He’s annoying, snarky, hot headed and you don’t get along. And this has absolutely nothing to do with your thoughts about how big his arms are, or how hot he is when he’s mad. No this is only about how difficultly annoying he is.

Warning: Tension, banter, eventual smut.

A/N: don’t we all still enjoy pretending it’s 2012 and all the avengers are happily alive and working and living together in the tower. Like I miss that! Let’s put Clint back in the vent and go back to the good old days.

There was a lot of things you loved about your job, ok well maybe there was a few things, but certainly, Bucky Barnes was not one of them.

“Wow, that’s a good look on your doll.” He smiled as you walked down the stairs of the hotel into the Lobby where he stood waiting for you.

“Well I have got to say Barnes, you clean up surprisingly well for a man of your age.”

He scoffed, “It’s called having some class, they don’t teach it anymore.”

Now one might assume with banter so playful the two of you might have something going on, but you don’t. This was just a mission, you were just playing the part, not to be mistaken for anything real between the two of you.

In fact, just a week ago the two of you couldn’t stand each other, it was Tony’s idea to set you two up in such a long close quarters mission.

“You have to be kidding me Tony, you know how annoying Barnes is. We’ll tear each other's heads off before we even make it to the gala.”

Steve shook his head. “Yeah even I have to protest this Tony, I mean (y/n) and Buck in the field, no backup? Couldn’t we partner them with someone else?”

“We can’t rearrange all of our mission plans so that these two don’t have to interact with each other. You both are grown ass adults, suck it up and play nice.” He said with finality before leaving the room. Steve sighed and joined him out in the hallway.

You crossed your arms and looked over at Bucky as he reclined in his seat. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Thought I was annoying.”

“You are that's why I thought you would have something to say on the subject.”

He shook his head and clenched his jaw, and you felt your heart drop, damn him. “Tony’s right, we’re adults. You just gotta stop acting like a brat so we can work together.”

“Oh please, if this is anyone's problem to solve it’s yours. You’re the one who’s going to actually have to trust me on this mission if we’re to get anything done.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, I’ll trust you, you play nice, I'll do the same. One week, let’s play professionals.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

And you both had played nice ever since. He greeted you with a smile when he picked you up the next morning, carried your bag into the hotel, he even started the mission by letting you run point. Of course, it felt like a trick at first but once you realized he was being serious you returned the favor, bought coffee for the two of you as you staked out the location of the gala, let him do all the talking with the host you gathered information from, and made the two of your dinner the night before the big event. That night felt the most real, things shifted.

You set down a plate of food and a cheap bear in front of Bucky as he poured over the blueprints on the table in your shared hotel room. “So the two guards will be posted by each door in uniform, but two guards in disguise as waiters will be standing by these two entrances.”

“Barnes, I know, we’ve gone over the plan three times tonight, we know the layout backwards and forwards. You can take a break.”

He sighed heavily as he rubbed at the tightness in his shoulders. You stared, watching his arms flex with the movement, the expression on his face altering the chemicals of your brain.

“Thanks (y/n),” he said, taking the plate you had set in front of him.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, reminding yourself what was important here. “Anytime Barnes.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me Barnes, what are you, my sergeant?” He laughed playfully. You hadn’t ever heard him laugh like that, his usual attitude toward you didn’t allow for that type of light heartiness.

“Oh, because you just love when I bark orders at you.” You laughed while taking a sip of your drink.

“Who says I don't?” He gave you that 1940s smile you just know won so many girls over back in the day.

You tried not to choke as you looked away from him, hiding the heat that crawled up your neck. “Well, I guess I just figured Bucky was reserved for your friends, like Steve and Sam.”

“Are we not friends?”

You studied him, you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “Are we?”

He leaned back in his chair, “do you want to be?”

“Do you?”

The room filled with silence as you both settled without an answer. Neither of you had an answer.

No, you would rather not be his friend, you didn’t think you could handle any more nice things coming from him. His smile made your stomach flip, and his proximity made your hair stand up, it was killing you the amount of alone time you were getting with him. But even worse the idea of it all being gone in 24 hrs and things going back to how they were made your chest hurt.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now, big day tomorrow.” You said excusing yourself from the table.

“Yeah” He sighed, taking a sip of his drink.

You paused at the door to your room before turning back for just a second. “Goodnight Bucky, get some sleep.” You smiled softly as you left him.

You didn’t run into Bucky much the next morning. He left a note saying he needed to double-check some things before getting ready for the gala tonight, but he promised to meet you in the lobby on time.

That leads you to now, standing in front of the mirror looking at the damn dress. Your heart pounded in your chest, you had forgotten about the dress. Originally intended for one of Tony’s galas that was canceled, you had never had a chance to wear this one. You had been excited to bring it along for the gala, but now it taunted you. It taunted you with its silkiness, its low cut, its backlessness.

All you could think was, would Bucky like it? It made you sick with nerves. This was not relevant. There was a high-profile target at tonight's gala, there were a weeks worth of snooping, and stake outs, and gathering information, months of research and tracking at stake here, but you were thinking of his hands on your back in that stupid dress if you were lucky enough to find an excuse to dance tonight.

You shut the thoughts out of your head and did your best to cool yourself down with some water to get your mind out of the gutter. This was just the two of you playing nice, being professional, this man despised you outside the walls of this hotel, outside of this mission.

You mentally slapped yourself as you got in the elevator heading down to the lobby, preparing yourself as you walked down the hotel's grand staircase.

You met Bucky's gaze from where he stood waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase. Damn he looked good. You could feel his eyes on you, every warning thought about the consequences of getting carried away leaving your brain. Was it getting hotter in here?

“Wow, that’s a good look on you doll.” He smiled playfully.

DAMN.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Well I have got to say Barnes, you clean up surprisingly well for a man of your age.”

He scoffed, “It’s called having some class, they don’t teach it anymore.” He offered you his arm as he walked you out to the car. “And besides what did I say about calling me Barnes. We’re not here for you to bark orders at me anymore, we’re here to play civil.”

You smirked as he opened your door for you. “Is that what you said? All I heard was that you like it when I boss you around.” You could hear him choke a little bit as he shut the passenger door before getting in on the drivers side.

“Now remember, we’re Mr. & Mrs. Laker, the rich real estate investors who just moved here from LA. We’ve been married 8 years now.” He said switching focus on getting to the gala.

“Kids?” You asked teasingly.

He smiled, “No, we're just waiting until things settle down with our work.”

“Aw I was hoping for a James jr.” He just shook his head. Your gaze shifted to his grip on the steering wheel where you almost lost yourself in THE thoughts again.

Damn get it together.

“Now you remember the layouts right.”

“Yes, I reviewed them this morning.”

“Good.”

He stopped as he pulled up in front of the venue you had scoped out just a few days prior. He put the car in park before walking around to your side opening the door for you and extending his hand for you to take. “Mrs. Laker.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laker.” You instinctively played your part and locked your arm in his.

“Here,” He tossed the car keys to the valley. “Not a scratch on it.” He added before leading you inside

As you entered the gorgeous high-class event waiters swarmed around you offering different champagnes, wines and finger foods, the room alive with rich people's conversations and music.

You smiled with your best rich lady smile as you let Bucky lead you around the party, choosing a table where you had a clear view of the event you set down grabbing a drink as you did so. You could feel your death grip on the glass as you forced yourself to keep your eyes on the dance floor where a few couples swayed and not on the very handsome man beside you.

Bucky placed his hand gently on your thigh as he took the glass out of your hand. He leaned in his face close to your ear in a way that made your brain short circuit. “We’ll have a better chance of bumping into Lestrade if we don’t stay in one place.”

You swallowed hard, “What do you suggest?”

He pulled away so he could look in your eyes, and you have to stop yourself from staring at his lips. “How about a dance,” He paused, offering you his hand and making sure the surrounding others could hear him. “Sweetheart.”

“Of course dear.” You smiled, kicking yourself for forgetting it all for the image of playing a married couple.

As you reached the dance floor his arm slipped around your waist, his hand on the small of your back causing you to stiffen. His metal hand gently held your right hand while your left hand rested on his bicep.

His steps were smooth with years of practice, his subtle pushes and pressure on your back letting you know where to step next.

“Now where did the soldier learn to dance?” You smiled as he shook his head.

“Like I said doll.” He licked his lips looking down at you with an ease in his eyes, you hadn’t seen before. “It's called class, they don’t teach it anymore.” He leaned in, pulling you to his chest so that he could whisper in your ear. “Trust me you won’t find anyone else who can do it like I do.” You could feel his smirk, “dancing that is.”

“Yeah, is that so Barnes? Show me your moves then.”

He didn't hesitate to spin you out and turn you around so that you swayed with your back to his chest. The heat pulling in your stomach where he now rests his metal hand over top of yours. You felt his lips on your ear. “Oh I’ve got plenty of moves.” You held in a sigh as you let yourself get swept up in the closeness.

“Lestrade, 10 o'clock, mingling at the drink table.” Your brain turned back on as your focused turned back to the mission, the song you had been dancing to fading out as it ended.

You pulled away from him, trailing off the dance floor. “You know sweetie, I think that dancing made me fairly thirsty. I need another drink.”

“Anything you want sweetheart.” He called as he followed suit.

It was going to be a long evening.

Part 2

[corroded-hellfire]

I’m sorry for getting distracted like ten times before sending this but tbh it’s kinda your fault <3

Imagine you’re sitting in the backyard with Eddie while watching the kids run around and Eddie starts talking about how happy and thankful he is for the life he has now. He gets emotional with you and even starts to cry and I just wanna see him cry happy tears. LET MY BOY BE HAPPY.

Your wish is my and @munson-blurbs’s command our darling wife 💚

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Autumn in Hawkins is…well, like any other time in Hawkins, but with a crisp bite in the air. The leaves that budded in the spring and held a lively green in the summer are now beginning to turn brown, curling in on themselves as they fall off of the trees. The sun dips behind the clouds earlier and earlier, bringing many of the town’s residents inside their homes for the night. 

But not your family. 

You and Eddie sit side by side on the porch swing, watching your kids run around the backyard. All three of them—four, if you count Luke’s dog—are playing a rousing game of tag. Ryan and Luke have teamed up against Eliza and Patch. It isn’t much of a fair fight, considering your daughter is only three years old and the dog doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening, but no one is complaining. 

Eddie’s hand finds your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is pure chaos,” he whispers in your ear. 

“Insanity,” you agree. Eliza shrieks giddily as Ryan picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. There was a time where you could carry Ryan; now, he’s sixteen-years-old and turning into a young man. It was as though the years had slipped through your fingers without you realizing. “What were we thinking, adding another one into this mix?”

Instinctively, Eddie splays his palm over your stomach. You’re only a month along and aren’t close to showing yet, but he still feels that protectiveness over you. 

“Four kids and a dog,” he muses, shaking his head. “This is your fault, y’know?”

“My fault?”

Eddie nods, a serious look on his face. “Oh, yes. It was two against two when we just had the boys. But then you had to be so damn perfect, and so I had to give you a baby.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“And what about this one?” You glance at where his hand rests. “Is that my fault, too?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie grins. “I mean, you looked so beautiful pregnant with Eliza. How could I possibly let that be a one-time thing?”

You’re about to protest that it was actually a nine-month thing, but you’re interrupted by Patch barking excitedly. 

The brown and white puppy runs as fast as his little legs will take him, doing laps around the three kids. He seems content when Eliza is put back down on the ground, and he can go over and check on her.

“I’m okay!” Eliza comforts with a breathless laugh. 

She pets Patch on the head as he sniffs all over her small legs and feet. Luke snatches his little sister, and though he doesn’t pick her up off the ground, he holds her prisoner against his chest.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Patch?” he teases. “Remember, I’m the one who feeds you!”

Eliza squeals and wriggles against the fourteen-year-old’s chest. Ryan decides to take the attention off both of his siblings and plop down on the grass right next to Patch.

The plan works perfectly as the Australian Shepherd and Labrador mix abandons both younger Munsons and climbs onto Ryan’s chest.

Eddie chuckles from next to you. When you turn to look at him, an infectious grin has you joining in his laughter.

“We’re raising some great kids, huh?” he muses, still watching them.

“Let’s hope this next one turns out just as amazing,” you say, squeezing your hand over Eddie’s where it’s perched on your stomach. 

He turns his hand around to lace his fingers with yours before bringing your hand up to his mouth. His soft, yet slightly chapped lips press kisses from your knuckles all the way to the inside of your wrist. The two of you may have been together for over six years now, but the display of affection still makes you dizzy with giddiness. 

“I keep wondering about how they’re going to react,” Eddie says, nodding towards your children out on the lawn. “I think I’ve imagined them responding in every possible way.”

“Can I be the one to say it to them?” you ask. It feels a little silly, but the idea of getting to say the words “you’re going to have a baby brother or sister” to them fills you with glee.

“Of course, princess.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two of you watch Eliza demonstrate to Patch how to roll over. Luke pretends to give his little sister a treat from his pocket and the girl playfully growls at him.

“Do you think Luke will wanna name this new baby?” you ask Eddie as his thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand.

“God, I hope not,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. “He’s been obsessed with WWE lately. We’ll have to name it John Cena.”

You giggle and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Man, this pregnancy was already hitting you with the exhaustion. 

“Well, Eliza would probably pick Hercules or Megara,” you point out. “Not much better.”

Eddie leans in and kisses your forehead. “Maybe we have to institute a ‘no wrestlers and no cartoon characters’ rule this time.”

“But then Eliza wouldn’t be Eliza,” you point out. It was Ryan who had chosen the name while watching The Wild Thornberries. “So, we might have to make an exception if needed.”

“Fair enough.” 

Before you can set any more ground rules, Luke calls out from the grass:

“Attention, lady and gentledad! The Amazing Eliza and her fearless pup, Patch, would like to perform their death-defying spectacular!”

You sit up a bit, watching as Eliza crouches on her hands and knees. Luke fishes a slice of bologna out of his pants pocket—you’re not sure how long it’s been in there, and you’re not sure you want to—and stands on one side of his sister. 

On her other side, Ryan holds Patch in his arms, the Aussiedor wriggling in anticipation of his snack. 

“And now,” Luke bellows, “we will release the beast!”

With that, your oldest son places Patch on the grass. Before all paws even touch down, the dog bolts towards Luke, leaping over Eliza with surprising grace. 

Eliza jumps up, excitement written all over her cherubic face. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see that? Did you see me and Patch?”

“We sure did, sweet pea.” You look over at Eddie to gauge his reaction, only to see that his eyes are glassy. The kids are already plotting Patch’s next trick when you ask your husband what’s wrong. 

Eddie shakes his head, swiping at a tear that managed to escape. “I was just thinking about how much they smile,” he says softly. “Especially the boys. It wasn’t always this way.”

You lace your fingers with his. “I know.” You remember the early days of babysitting Ryan and Luke. They walked on eggshells around Brittany, always prepared to be dismissed or outright rejected. Each “I’m too busy to play with you,” extinguished a little more light in their eyes. 

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I love you for so many reasons, but I love you most of all for bringing joy back into our lives again. For reminding us how a family should be.”

Another tear rolls down his cheek as he takes in the unconditional love that surrounds him. You reach over with your free hand and wipe the tear away with your thumb. 

“Every smile and little giggle from those boys has brought me so much joy ever since I met them. Seeing their general happiness grow over these last ten years has been a highlight of my life.”

You bring Eddie’s hand up and press a few soft kisses against the back of it. 

“And now there’s another infectious laughter added to the mix,” Eddie says with a teary chuckle as Eliza’s wild giggle floats over to you on a crisp breeze. 

“And another one soon, I’m sure,” you say, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “I can’t picture this kid having less than an enchanting laugh.”

Eddie sniffles and nods his head. “We’re all so lucky to have you here. The best mom and the best wife.”

“Not to mention that loving and attentive father our lucky babies have. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how happy you make all of us,” you tell him. 

He tries to shrug it off, but you’re persistent. 

“It’s true! Every laugh and smile I saw from the boys in the early days was because of you. You’re the reason they had light in their lives those grade school years. And you’re the reason Eliza is as stubborn as a mule, but still the greatest kid who is full of love and laughter. And then there’s me.” You rest your chin on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “I’ve never felt so safe before. So safe and loved. And I get to goof off and laugh everyday with my best friend. Cause I’m lucky enough that I got to marry my best friend.”

Eddie’s tears are coming in harder now. It brings a smile to your face, though, to know he realizes just how loved every single person in this family is. That the love only grows stronger every day and soon there will be a new little person to give and receive even more love in the Munson house. 

Your husband clears his throat and rubs over his eyes with the sleeve of his black zip-up hoodie. 

“Dad?” you hear Luke say, approaching closer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie assures him as he tries to make sure any trace of tears is gone. “I’m okay.”

“Then why were you crying?” Eliza gasps out as she runs over to the two of you. 

“Just happy,” Eddie responds, picking the three-year-old up and setting her in his lap. “I’ve got the greatest wife and kids in the world.”

“And dog,” Luke adds as Patch trots his way over. “Patch is the best.”

“And Patch,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 

The puppy puts his front two paws on the porch swing next to you and you take the hint. You bend over and pick up the precocious canine, who happily makes himself comfortable in your lap. 

Ryan comes over and sprawls out on the grass at the edge of the stone patio. He stares up at the rest of you and lets out a content sigh. 

“Dad’s a big old softy,” the sixteen-year-old quips. 

Eliza climbs up on the porch swing and Eddie has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from falling as the seat bucks from her movements. 

“Daddy is not soft,” Eliza states as she pokes her father’s bony shoulder. She then rubs her hand over his stubble as if to further prove her point. “Hard and scratchy.”

“What about big and old?” Luke asks, doing his best to keep a smile at bay. 

“Everyone is big compared to Liza Bean!” you butt in, reaching over with one hand to poke her belly. “She’s so teeny tiny!”

Eliza nods once in agreement. 

“Right, Mama! And, yeah, Daddy is old.”

You, Luke, and Ryan can’t help but laugh at her casual words. Eddie’s jaw drops open, and he looks at all of his family members with an affronted face. 

“I am only 41!” Your husband defends. 

“Old,” Eliza reiterates. 

Eddie grabs Eliza and clutches him close to her chest.

“Listen here, little missy!” His fingers dig into Eliza’s sides, making her squeal out in laughter. “I’m young enough to beat you up!”

“I don’t know if anyone can win against Eliza…” Ryan mutters.

“No!” Eliza shouts through her laughter. “I younger! I stronger!”

Eddie ceases his tickling and holds the three-year-old tight against his chest. 

“You can never escape.”

“Bite him!” Luke suggests.

“I’ll bite back,” Eddie says. “And my teeth are bigger.”

“Don’t want to damage your dentures,” Ryan says, a smirk dancing on his face.

You and Luke can’t help but laugh, but Eddie only narrows his eyes as his oldest son and leans into whisper something in Eliza’s ear. Your daughter’s face breaks out into a grin, and she nods her head enthusiastically. 

Eddie lets her down and takes a wide berth walking around her brothers. Neither of them takes their eyes off her small figure as Patch jumps down from your lap and follows the girl. While Eliza distracts them with the direction she’s walking, Eddie silently slips off the swing and is able to pounce on Ryan.

“Hey!” Ryan calls through laughter.

Despite how hard your eldest son tries to get free, Eddie is able to hold Ryan’s arms behind his back. With him subdued, Eliza launches herself at him, quickly glomming onto her biggest brother’s torso. 

“We got you!” Eliza calls. 

Ryan manages to get all three of them laying down on the grass, all squirming around like exposed worms looking for shelter. 

Luke simply shakes his head as he sits next to you on the porch swing. 

“Such children,” Luke admonishes. 

He uses his heels against the patio to gently push the swing back and forth as the two of you watch the other three squabble. 

“Us mature ones would never act this way,” Luke says to you.

“Never,” you agree with a chuckle.

You have no doubt something diabolical is spurning in the fourteen-year-old’s head, but you know that nothing you do or say will be able to stop it. Instead, you just lay your head down on top of Luke’s as you watch Eddie and Eliza try to keep Ryan down on the grass. 

“Mature,” you repeat to yourself. “That’s definitely us.”

[ghouldump]

hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!

i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld

Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL

“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.

“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?

“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.

“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.

“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.

“Ma chèrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.

“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.

“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.

“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.

“Sex doesn't fix everything”

“It is a start”

“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.

Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.

Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.

As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.

“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.

“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.

“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”

“Lestat is…well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.

“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.

“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”

“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.

Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.

He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.

“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.

“I think…I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.

“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.

“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.

“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.

The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.

“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.

“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.

“I could try it if you want,” you offered.

“The radiation will be damaging-

“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.

“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.

“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.

“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”

Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.

“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.

Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.

“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.

Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.

George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.

“What did you do?”

“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.

“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.

“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.

“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.

“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.

“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-

Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.

“Leave him alone,” you argued.

“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.

“Don't parent me, Louis”

“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.

“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.

“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.

“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.

“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.

“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.

“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.

“I don't even know how far it has brought her”

“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.

“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.

“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.

“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”

“For us?” Louis asked.

“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.

“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.

“Maybe one of us could go in and-

“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.

“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.

“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.

As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.

Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.

“Hey, what are you doing-

“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.

Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.

Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.

Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.

“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.

Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.

“Ma chérie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.

“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.

“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.

“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.

“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.

“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.

“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.

“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.

“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.

While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.

“Claudia, you've been reckless-

“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.

“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.

“Are you okay, mama?”

“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.

“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.

“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.

Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.

“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.

Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.

Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.

“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.

“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.

“Are you sure you are okay, ma chérie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.

“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.

“Why would we never be the same?”

“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.

“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”

“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-

“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.

“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.

“Why though?”

“Holding onto the past”

“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.

Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.

“I need to make a quick run-

“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.

“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.

As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.

“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.

“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”

“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.

“Anything?”

“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.

Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.

“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.

“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.

“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.

“What was she doing?” he asked.

“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.

“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.

“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.

“Of course I did,” he smirked.

“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.

“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.

“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.

Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.

“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.

“Okay”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.

“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.

“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.

“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.

You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Smitten

I had this idea for a JayTim that I want to share. 

Obviously there is no canon here, for the record. 

In addition we have a version of Jack and Janet Drake that do love their son, they just have a really bad grasp on age appropriate supervision and activities. They honestly believe that a nine year old can be left alone with only a periodic check from a housekeeper (Also they are aware that Tim leaves the premises almost every night with a camera, they also believe this is a reasonable activity).  Like the very embodiment ‘they’re confused, but they got spirit’. Believe me when I say this will be relevant later.

We are also bringing Jason and Tim’s ages just a hair closer together. This starts with Jason being 14 and Tim being 13, at the annual holiday Wanye Gala. This particular time Jack, Janet, and Tim are in attendance. 

It starts with some boorish rich asshole, a little too drunk and being stupid about it, making an insulting comment about Janet Drake, heard by Tim. Now Tim loves his mother, and does not appreciate this man who insulted her. 

Thirteen year old Tim verbally eviscerates this man, his voice an icy even tone that everyone around recognized from Tim’s mother Janet. Tim’s diatribe of insults and threats leverages this man's secrets, his fears, and insecurities that he didn't even realize he had.  Ten minutes in, this man begins to cry. Just the complete, public, destruction of a middle aged rich drunk by a tiny thirteen year old.  The Drake family proceeds to exit after Tim winds down, never looking back (it was later in the evening anyway).

Jason, standing off to one side next to Dick, falls immediately and completely in love. Smitten through and through.  The first words out of his mouth, after the Drakes leave, is ‘We’re going to get married on that boy’s 18th birthday’.  This was heard by just about everyone present. Jason did not even know Tim’s name yet.

By the next morning Jason has used the BatComputer to discover that his future spouse is named Timothy Drake, he lives next door, and that he is 14 months younger than Jason.  At breakfast Jason very seriously, though a touch maniacally, tells Bruce that he would be marrying Tim when Tim turned 18, and that before that point they would be telling Tim about their ‘nightlife’ on the grounds that “we should not start our marriage off with secrets”. Jason magnanimously told Bruce that he had until Tim was 17 to get his feelings under control about the reveal (to give a full year before the wedding, in case Tim needed an adjustment period or Jason needed to win him back).  

Bruce is already very tired. 

Jason finds any occasion to seek out Tim Drake, to get to know his future spouse (the entire time Jason Mantra-having gotten some good advice from Alfred about becoming friends with and maybe dating Tim before anything else-is ‘Don’t start talking about the wedding, don’t start talking about the wedding’). Also every piece of romantic knowledge/flirting knowledge that Jason has comes from the regency era/Victorian era romances he reads. 

Tim, for his part, believes that Jason (Tim’s Robin and crush) has figured out that Tim knows Robin’s identity and is trying to subtly figure out how much Tim knows and what he is going to do about it; but for some reason Jason is not asking directly and Tim is enjoying getting closer to the other boy, so he does not admit to what he knows. 

This leads to some painfully stilted conversations and weird interactions, but every so often both will forget to be awkward and it becomes clear, whenever they actually act naturally, that they are very well matched. 

To the Gotham Elites, this is the best entertainment in years. Between Bruce Wayne’s ‘Brucie’ act and Dick’s feral behavior growing up, Jason’s bookish politeness makes him the ‘best behaved’ Wayne and honestly the most well liked one. Combined that with how sweet he is acting with Tim and  that this all started with Tim defending his mother, well this is the love story of the ages, happening right in front of them. 

Bruce and the Drakes are already fielding requests for invitations to the wedding. On a slightly more creepy note they are also receiving offers to be a surrogate for the boy’s to ‘continue the bloodline’ when the time comes. 

Bruce is honestly wondering if everyone forgot that Jason is adopted. Dick comes to Gotham more often, because he is also finding this immensely entertaining. 

A few months in, this leads to Batman, Nightwing, and Robin finding Tim taking pictures on a rooftop in the Bowery.  In Tim’s rush to apologize (he is starting to feel a bit guilty about his picture taking pictures of the Bats now that he has an actual relationship-where he believes that they know he knows who they are-instead of a parasocial relationship) it becomes clear that Tim knows their civilian identities and that they did not know that Tim knew their civilian identities. 

Tim gives his explanation (a quadruple flip that only a few people in the world can do and connecting the dots from there). Jason immediately blurts out ‘Go on a date with me?’ and is quite proud that he kept the ‘Marry me?’ behind his teeth (The earliest they could get married in New Jersey is 17, and only with parental consent. Jason had 4 years to convince the Drakes to let him marry their son, 5 if they don’t like him). Tim turns bright red and squeaks out a ‘Yes’. 

The next gala they enter holding hands.  Dick is quickly sought after by the Elite for gossip. Dick confirms that Tim and Jason are now dating, and that Jason insisted on a chaperone for their dates (Jason is still working off the regency/victorian era romantic relationships) so that nothing would ‘besmirch Tim’s honor’.  There is an entire crowd of cooing Gothamites around Dick as they discuss how these two got even more adorable, all the while watching Jason and Tim surreptitiously. 

At some point Bruce has to have a very surreal conversation with Jack and Janet Drake about when it is appropriate to leave one's children alone and for how long and at what ages. Jack and Janet, upon being convinced that they should not leave their 13 year old alone for weeks or months at a time, rearrange their future plans so that one of them is almost always home (and on the few occasions that they would have to Tim by himself, Tim would stay with the Waynes).

By the way, Jack and Janet love Jason, they can see how much he makes their son happy and are glad to support the relationship.  

Now I see this continuing one of two ways. 

The first way is that this derails Ethiopia. Jason still fights with Batman, but runs to Janet Drake (who is home) and Tim.  He does not discover that Catherine is not his mother until later, but is not missing parental influences and does some digging but does not go to meet Sheila. Tim becomes Oracle’s apprentice.

Alternately, it does not derail Ethiopia. Janet and Jack, on one of the few business trips that required both of them, is woken up by a call from an inconsolable Tim who tells them Jason has been killed by the Joker (both Jack and Janet having been let in on the secret at some point). Janet immediately hires Deathstroke and Talia Al Ghul to kill the Joker (Janet contemplated having them bring the Joker to her, so she could do it and make sure he understood why-he killed her future son in law and made her son cry- but realized that the why would never actually matter to Joker) and paid extra to make it look like natural causes (to lessen the attention on the bastard).  Two weeks after Jason Todd’s funeral, the Joker dropped dead of an apparent heart attack, there was not even enough time to get him back in Arkham. 

The Gotham Elite treat Tim like a bereaved widow, despite Jason never getting to have the ‘let’s get married when we are old enough’ talk with him. Jack Drake gets to have his own surreal talk with Bruce Wayne about accepting help, and therapy, after Jason’s death.  Tim picks up the Robin mantle to feel closer to Jason, and to distract himself from grief. 

Jason (Now 17) is brought back and Talia does find him. In this she does have good intentions (She knows that Damian is going to need to be sent to his father eventually, and hopes that helping Jason will endear Talia to Bruce enough that she can still see her son), plus a connection to Janet Drake and the knowledge that Janet had the Joker killed for Jason. So as soon as Jason’s madness ebbs enough to travel she brings him straight to Janet Drake's door. By then enough time has passed that it is three days before Tim’s 17th birthday.   

Jante takes one look at Jason and goes ‘Hmm, I was wondering what we were getting Tim for his birthday this year’.

[lordprettyflackotara]

forgot about jack || eyeless jack & jeff the killer

tw: smut, 18+, minors dni threesome, double penetration, knife play, freaky demon top, unrealistic sex but what else are you here for be fr

a/n: this may be the silliest plot to a smut i’ve ever written LMAO

“Oh cmon what the fuck is this?!”

Jeff’s voice boomed through out the living room. Jack sat unfazed on the couch, channel surfing on the television. “Something wrong Jeff?” He asked flatly. Jeff was always on one, always mad or triggered about something. It didn’t take a genius to get accustomed to his dramatic antics. Jeff stormed around the couch, blocking Jacks view of the television. He held out a newspaper in his hand.

“New women killers on the rise?! Look at this!” He ordered. His pale finger pointed to an article, Jack quickly gazing over it. He leaned to his right, trying to see the TV past Jeff. “Yes Jeff it is 2024, women can slaughter people just like we do,” Jack replied. He scanned the newspaper again, rolling his non existent eyes. You would’ve thought after him creating Jane and Nina he would’ve gotten a clue. “Nuh uh! They’re not just slaughtering folks EJ. They’re stealing credit for our hard work. Look again!” Jeff exclaimed. He flipped the page, pointing at the headline.

Eyeless Jill is at it again! Farmers lungs stolen!

Jack ripped the newspaper from his hands, rising to his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he read the article. “What?! Who the actual fuck is Eyeless Jill?” Jack hissed He gripped the newspaper, examining the victims photo. “I took that fuckers kidneys! KIDNEYS! Who the fuck likes lungs? They’re so sour,” He rambled. Jeff crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. “Oh so you only care when it’s your work being stolen. I invented going to sleep,” Jeff grumbled. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“We have to do something about this! What kinda sick fuck would spin the narrative? Have they really forgotten about me?” Jack asked, sitting back down on the couch. He felt defeated, forgotten about. Jeff grinned devilishly as he pointed at the author.

“I say we should pay Y/n Y/l/n a little visit, don’t you think so Jacky?”

Both Jack and Jeff stood ominously in the shadows, admiring your house. “This house will look better burned to the ground,” Jeff muttered. He was salty about his article, or in better words, lack of one. Jane had stolen the front cover. “I want to see the bitch first,” Jack grumbled. He led the way, sliding into your living room window. Unlocked. Typical. Your house was further away from town. Jack thought humans were smarter than this. As he walked into your living room he concluded he was wrong.

Your small television played an old sitcom, the laugh track playing in the background as Jeff followed him. Jack signaled for him to check the kitchen, gesturing his head. Jeff stood still. “EJ I don’t think now is the time for a snack,” He whispered. Jack had to restrain himself from face palming. “Check the kitchen you dumbass,” He ordered. Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do I take orders from you? We-” He began, the blinding light of a flashlight diminishing their debate.

There you stood, a short satin baby blue nightgown barely covering your chest and thighs. Your innocent appearance almost made Jack falter, until he remembered the newspaper article. You didn’t seem to be armed and even if you were, Jack easily towered over you. “Holy shit you guys are real?” You gasped. You were clutching your cross necklace for dear life, the men exchanging looks. “Obviously we’re real! You’re obsessed with replacing us with women!” Jeff said. Jack sighed, yanking the newspaper out of his hoodie. He shoved it in front of you, your eyes bewildered with terror as he towered over you.

“See this? What the fuck is an Eyeless Jill?” He hissed. You skimmed the article, recognizing your own writing. “You do realize you guys are urban legends right? Not celebrities?! I didn’t even think you guys existed,” You argued. Somehow the pale killer without eyelids and eyeless demon didn’t seem to faze you, your temperament hot. “Well we do, we’re right here,” Jeff huffed. He crossed his arms, glaring at you. “So Eyeless Jill and Jane don’t exist then but you guys do?” You asked. Jack glanced at Jeff, who was not so subtly trying to signal him to not reveal Jane’s existence. “Well Jane does exist but that was Jeff’s kill,” Jack said. He smirked under his mask, paying Jeff back for his stupidity.

“Is she with you guys or?” You asked, glancing behind them. Jeff could have ripped a chunk of his hair out from irritation. “No she’s not with us! You should be honored to be in our presence you stupid slut!” Jeff spat. Jack noticed the subtle rubbing of your thighs, but pretended not to. “See right here it says go to sleep on the wall, Jane’s catch phrase is don’t go to sleep you won’t wake up,” Jack explained, pointing to the picture. You murmured an ‘oh’, studying the photograph. “Hello?! EJ stop simping and let’s get on with torching the place,” Jeff bellowed. You looked at Jeff, the pale killer losing his temper. “You guys want to burn down my house?” You questioned.

Jack shrugged, Jeff’s hand flying to his forehead. “It’s not my problem Jane does headlining kills and you don’t,” You argued. Aggressively you went to launch yourself at Jeff, the eyeless demon grabbing you and restraining you. “Oh and by the way i’m not simping. If I was her panties would be on the floor by now,” Jack told him. You thrashed under his grasp, desperate slap Jeff. “Oh please. If she’s going to drop her panties for either of us it would be me,” Jeff argued. Jack set you aside, stepping up to his partner in crime. “You’re always so cocky and i’ll never understand why. You think that pasty dick of yours could ever even compete with mine?” Jack snarled. Jeff gave him a cold smile, “I know it could.”

“Thats not what Jane said,” Jack debated. Jeff’s cockiness fell. “YOU FUCKED JANE?” He questioned. Quietly you slid on top of your kitchen table, your feet dangling as you watched the argument continue. “I did and i’ll go ahead and let you know she told me i’m better than you,” Jack informed him, mockingly patting his shoulder. Jeff let out a dramatic gasp. “We fucked when I was like fifteen that absolutely does not count,” Jeff hissed. Jack crossed his arms. “Oh really? Is there another girl we’ve both fucked that you’d like to ask?” Jack questioned. It was then the boys gaze landed on you, your perky nipples showing through your thin nightgown.

You gulped nervously, watching the two tall killers stride towards you. “You know she is a pretty one,” Jack murmured. He reached his hand out, stroking your jaw with his fingertips. You were practically shaking with fear and arousal. “No reason why we can’t share her, then have her tell us who’s better,” Jeff purred. Jack inhaled deeply, the smell of your arousal flooding his nostrils. He grinned mischievously under his mask. “I think she likes it when we talk about her like she isn’t here,” Jack informed Jeff. You rubbed your thighs together anxiously, looking up at the two men.

The demon brought his thumb to your lower lip, dragging it down slowly. Instinctively you opened your mouth, sucking on his thumb. Jack smirked as Jeff rounded the table, climbing onto it and placing himself behind you. Jack lowered himself to his knees, spreading your thighs. Removing his thumb from your mouth, you shared a look of lust. “Such a tiny little thing,” Jeff snickered. His pale hands explored your chest, sliding the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders and arms. Your breast were exposed to the cool night air, Jeff’s fingertips on them in a flash.

His touch was cold, Jack’s warm. “Why don’t you remove your mask Jacky, let the whore see what she’s letting fuck her?” Jeff asked. Jack slid off his royal blue mask, the demon staring up at him. Oozing black tar dripped from his eye sockets, coating his lower eyes. You shuddered at the sight, Jeff pinching your nipples. You gasped, a smile creeping across Jacks lips. Rows of razor sharp teeth revealed themselves behind his curled lips. “Scared yet?” Jeff taunted, his breath hot against your ear. Jack placed sloppy open mouth kisses to your thighs, his large hands keeping your thighs pried apart.

“Not in the slightest,” You lied boldly. Jeff snickered, sliding his knife out of his pocket. Jack nuzzled himself to your cunt, one of his tongues licking a stripe through the skimpy silk that was your panties. The pale killer brought the blade to your throat, the metal cool against your skin. You swallowed, fear and lust washing over you. “You’re fucking pathetic, letting us play with you. You’re scared now, aren’t you whore?” Jeff huffed. You could feel his boner poke you from behind, the sight of Jacks three black tongues making you shudder in fear. He pulled your panties to the side, watching you intently. He slowly slid one of them into your drenched cunt, another one toying with your clit.

You moaned, one of your hands flying to Jacks hair. The blade of the knife pressed against your throat harder, causing you to squeal. “Answer me bitch, you’re scared aren’t you?” Jeff hissed. You wanted to nod, the knife restricting you. Your hips desperately moved on their own, grinding against Jacks tongues. It was then you felt another one slide inside of you, curling upwards. “Fuck yes, i’m scared, but it feels so good,” You groaned. Jeff brought his knife down to your nipples, using the sharp tip to play with your nipples. Jacks tongues were curling upwards to hit your g spot, a knot forming inside of your stomach.

“Awe really? Does Jacky make you feel good?” Jeff asked tauntingly. He dragged the blade to your other nipple, poking at your sensitive buds. “Y-yes, so fucking good,” You moaned. Your fingers were yanking at his brown curls, your eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure. You were pathetically grinding against his face, your orgasm getting closer and closer. “Awe is someone gonna cum? For two killers? How filthy,” Jeff purred. He nibbled at your earlobe, your sinful noises bouncing off of the walls.

“C-c-cumming!” You stuttered, Jacks one last flick at your clit sending you over the edge. You could feel the thinnest line of blood forming across your neck, your thighs squeezing around Jacks head as you came down from your high. Jack slowly emerged from your cunt, a devious grin spread across his lips. “You taste so fucking good,” He panted. He rose to his feet, admiring your exposed figure. “You’re lucky I want to fuck you, otherwise i’d eat those pretty organs,” Jack purred. The boys rearranged you, Jack laying flat on the kitchen table. Jeff guided you to crawl on top of him, your ass in the air as you positioned yourself on all fours. Jack grinned as you met his gaze.

“With how big I am it’s better that I take your cunt,” Jack explained. You whimpered as you heard the clinking of both the boys belts. “I-I’ve never-” You stuttered, shaking with nerves. Jeff’s large hands grasped your ass, massaging the skin harshly. “We know doll, we’re making you our personal slut,” Jeff chuckled darkly. Jack guided his cock to your cunt, collecting your slick on his tip. He gave you a small smile. “This may hurt a little bit,” He warned. You grabbed onto his hoodie, your core throbbing in desire as Jack began to push himself into you. A mixture of moans and whines escaped your lips, your eyes screwed shut.

“There you go, you can take it,” Jack purred. He could hear your heartbeat speed up, the sound pleasurable to his ears. You felt Jeff spit on your other puckered hole, your knuckles turning pale from gripping Jack so hard. Once Jack bottomed out you felt Jeff’s finger teasing your other hole. You felt like you were being split in half by Jacks cock alone, the idea of taking Jeff’s unimaginable. “You’re so fucking tight,” Jack growled, his noises sounding animalistic. Jeff shoved a finger inside of your unexplored hole, a gasp being ripped out of your throat. “I’d start fucking her Jacky, she’s gonna be in the world of pain,” Jeff suggested.

Jack began to slowly move, his cock slowly exiting your dripping cunt. “Such a breedable cunt,” Jack muttered. His large hands grabbed the sides of your stomach, his cock returning to your cunt and brushing against your g spot. “Fuck, please go faster fucking please,” You pleaded. Who was Jack to deny you of that? Jack began to fuck you quickly, his hips snapping into yours. Jeff curled his finger inside of your other hole, the pain subsiding as Jack abused your cunt. “Thats a good fucktoy. Just be a babbling begging slut for us,” Jeff snickered. A sharp slap landed on your ass, causing an electric shock to shoot down your spine. Jeff inserted another finger, his patience thinning.

Watching Jack fuck you in front of him was too erotic, his cock twitching with urgency. The pale killer removed his fingers, spitting on your puckered hole again. “This may hurt, a lot,” He warned, smirking to himself as you whimpered. Jeff began pushing himself inside of you, your vision seeing stars. Your vision became spotty, strings of whimpers and moans escaping your lips. Your eyes were screwed shut, Jeff focused on bottoming out. You felt dizzy, a large hand cupping your face. Jacks touch was warm, the demon bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unexpected, your body beginning to relax as he tenderly kissed you.

“Yeah that’s right, kiss her before I turn her mouth into my personal cum dump,” Jeff grunted. Your walls were spasming around the both of them, your body being pushed to its limits. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still hazy as you groaned into Jacks mouth. Both of them began moving in unison, opposing the other’s pace. “Holy shit,” You cried. You felt so full, the killers having the time of their lives abusing your holes. “Fuck, you’re coming home with us. I need to breed you. Every fucking day,” Jack grunted. An animalistic growl was boiling in the bottom of his throat, his thrust becoming more intense.

His filthy words only made you clench around him tighter. Your sounds were uncontrollable, your body beginning to shake as they fucked you senseless. “Fuck fuck fuck, feels so- mmph!” You whined. You could feel the cord inside of you tightening again, the boys large hands holding your body up. “Such a pathetic whore. You gonna cum on our dicks?” Jeff taunted. You nuzzled your face into Jacks neck, your thighs violently shaking as you came around his cock. Your walls milking Jack sent him over the edge, his seed painting your inner walls with one final thrust. Jeff reached over, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you towards him. He relished in the whimpers of pain that escaped your lips, the killer tugging at the roots of your scalp as he came inside of your other hole.Jeff released your scalp, the three of you panting in unison as you came down from your highs.

\/

You stood in between Jack and Jeff, arms crossed. “Was this absolutely necessary?” You questioned. Jeff was practically bouncing with joy, your beloved farm house now engulfed in flames. You all watched as the flames spread further and further across the building. “I told you it would look better burnt down. I was right,” Jeff gleamed. You frowned, your baby blue nightgown barely covering your exposed skin as a night breeze blew past. “So where exactly am I supposed to go now?” You asked. Jeff carelessly tossed his handful of matches aside, throwing them into the fire. Jack followed suit, tossing his can of gasoline into the large flames.

“Didn’t you hear me? You’re coming home with us. You’ll never forget our names again.”

[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

��yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

[reidsexual]

Reach

“Earth to Dick?” You wave your hand in front of his faraway expression, helping him get off his knees.

The movement helps snap Dick back to reality, his eyebrows raising and his mouth agape almost as if he’s realized something. He looks up into your direction and laughs awkwardly, accepting your hand whilst pushing himself off the floor.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, puzzled by his change in mood. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He assures you, flashing a smile that could fool most. “Besides, we got the job done.” He looks around, taking in the ruins of the building.

You had been assigned with Dick, Wonder Girl, and Beast Boy on a mission to stop a supervillain with psychic abilities. Made you wonder why they didn’t bring Miss Martian along.

“Sure…” You say, letting him off the hook for a moment. Just until you and your teammates get back to the base, that is.

“That was totally awesome! Did you see when she was trying to manipulate me into lasso-ing myself and I was like ‘No way, Jose!’ and threw her against the wall!” Cassie enthusiastically plays out the entire fight, with extra hand movements to boot.

“Totally badass.” Gar agrees, smiling ear to ear. “And I bet Dick thought so too.” He turns his head towards Dick’s direction, without a doubt seeking approval from the leader.

But Dick stays silent. His mind seems distant - closed off. He’s been like this since Wally’s death, and it wasn’t a secret to you that these missions he went on were merely distractions to cope with his own grief. Once those missions were over, he was alone again in his own mind.

Gar’s shoulders slump, and his smile slowly fades away. You put a hand on his shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “You all did well. I’m proud of you both.”

Hopefully that gets their spirits up.

Truth be told, you’d had quite a crush on Dick since the team’s been formed. When it was just you 6: Dick, Wally, Kaldur, Artemis, M’gann, and Conner. But it never lead to anything - and you were a fool to think so.

Besides, everyone’s moved on from their lives - why shouldn’t you?

You make it to the headquarters, but before Dick can make his first footsteps on the floor, you place a hand on his shoulder.

Dick turns around to meet your eye, an amused glint in his smile. “Didn’t know we were getting handsy now.”

“Funny.” You give him a quick and sarcastic smile, taking your hand off of him and crossing your arms against your chest. “But I’m not in the mood for jokes, Dick.”

“What are you in the mood for? Chinese takeout?” Dick suggests.

“No. A spar would actually be quite nice.” You can feel a flicker of a smile touch upon your features at the thought. “Like old times?” You add, trying not to sound like you crave the nostalgia.

For the first time this mission, you notice Dick’s teasing expression falter, his face falling. His eyes can’t seem to look anywhere but the ground. “Sure. Like old times.” He says, turning around and stepping foot in headquarters.

By the time you’ve showered and cleaned yourself up, Dick’s already at the training room - waiting for you.

The sight makes you panic by just a little bit. How long have you kept him waiting?

Dick stifles a laugh, almost as if reading your thoughts. “Relax, I just got here.” He says in a good-natured manner.

Rolling your eyes playfully, “Just wondering what’s got you so enthusiastic.” You banter back, stepping into the ring.

“What can I say? Nothing cheers me up like some good ‘ol’ training session.” He shrugs, tossing you a wooden stick that you catch without missing a beat.

“Mind if we share a chat while we’re at it?” You test the waters, positioning yourself into a fighting stance across from him.

“If you can focus.” Dick answers confidently, before you charge at him, striking your stick to the side of his neck before he effectively blocks it, repositions your weapon, nearly making you lose balance.

You do a cartwheel to land on your feet. Both arms stretched out as you crouch on the floor, sticks on each side.

“What was it you wanted to talk about again?” Dick asks in the middle of you launching a kick at him, which he catches with his free hand. While he’s distracted, you deliver a blow to his side with your elbow.

“How are you?” Seems to be the most appropriate way to start the conversation to you right now.

“Fighting an extremely athletic lady. You, on the other hand?” He jokes, and you can almost see a glimpse of the boyish Dick you used to know.

“Repeat that - but replace ‘lady’ with ‘gentleman.’”

“Flattered.”

Dick lands a devastating blow to your jaw, and you have to take a step back and wipe the blood off your lip.

His face morphs from playful and teasing to concerned and worried in less than a millisecond, instantly dropping his sticks and rushing forward to you.

“Are you okay? God, I didn’t think-” You sweep your leg under his, Dick falling back-first with a thump.

“Careful. Might change my mind about you being a gentleman. Might change it to little rascal instead.” You say, reaching your hand out to help Dick as he sits up and rubs his hand behind his neck.

“Never-”

“Lose focus when attacking your opponent. Taught you that our first training session alone.” Dick finishes your sentence for you. His delivery, so lighthearted and playful - can’t even mask the bittersweet undertone in his words.

“Do you ever miss those days?” You ask without thinking.

“My days as Robin?”

“I mean those days of fresh experience. Back when being a superhero felt like playing a video game instead of a world of hurt on your shoulders.” You explain hesitantly, taking a seat on the ground next to him.

Dick’s eyebrows furrow and you can feel him stare at you intently as you are the one now struggling to look into his eyes. “Hey, hey.” He cups your face in both his hands, softly guiding your face to meet his gaze.

“Where’s this coming from?” He asks quietly. You’re only now realizing how intimate this all looks - your faces just inches apart, you could count all of his eyelashes if you wanted to.

Dick Grayson. Why always be there for others when you can’t even be there for yourself?

You grab both his wrists and set his hands on his lap, immediately regretting the action at the loss of his warmth. “This isn’t about me.” You can hear the annoyance seeping in your voice, you hate it. But how can he be so oblivious?

“This is about you.” You point a finger at his chest, before dropping it and sighing. “I mean, what’s going on with you?”

“What’s going on with me?“ He repeats, sounding equal amounts offended and confused.

“Yes! You’ve been acting so differently as of late and-”

“And it’s nothing you have to worry about.” Dick interrupts, his gaze cold as opposed to his warmth of his touch.

“Will you stop interrupting me?” You huff, annoyed. Standing up from the ground, you dust off imaginary dirt on your clothes.

Combing a hand through your hair, you try to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that you shouldn’t lose patience with someone grieving. But it’s so hard when you are too.

“And will you stop worrying?” Dick stands up to the ground, his height towering over you.

“You’ve noticed?” You scoff, sounding childish even in your own ears.

“Oh, I’ve noticed! I notice everything about you, come on!” He’s almost shouting now - you’re not used to Dick losing his temper, especially not with you.

“Why are you so pissed about a friend caring for you?” Your voice cracks at the word ‘friend’ because you’re not even sure if he considers you one with the way he’s talking to you right now.

Sweat drips down the side of his forearm, and you’re not sure if it’s from the heat of your argument or the intense sparring session earlier. But either way, you can feel yourself start to get heat up over the whole ordeal too.

“I’m not mad that you care.” He says pleadingly, his voice calmer now, but the anger still appears. “I’m upset that you treat me like glass. That I’m fragile. That I have to prove myself all over again to show you that I can handle things on my own.”

The way he looks at you, you can tell he’s at battle with his own thoughts. Between desperately trying to convince you he’s fine, and wanting to give into your help and tell you he’s not.

“Nobody’s invulnerable, Dick.” You take a step closer, your frustration simmering down. “And you’re one of the most capable people I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t notice when you need support by your side.” You take his hand in yours, reassuring him, as a friend. As a friend.

Dick looks at you at loss for words. It’s like he’s asking you what’s the right thing to say, the right thing to feel.

“It’s been tough, I can admit that.” He says somberly, taking his hand out of yours in a way that makes you pretend it didn’t hurt. “But that’s what comes with saving the world. That’s the price there is to pay for.”

You’ve always known that Dick’s life revolved around bettering others. It’s been his life since he was a kid - from performing for others entertainment, to fighting crime for others safety. It’s all he’s known.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t reach out.” You whisper, trying one more time. For someone who doesn’t want to be Batman, he sure is good at avoiding others from seeing his true emotions.

Dick turns his back on you and grabs the sticks on the ground. “I came here because I thought I could shut my mind off. Focus on things that made me forget about work.”

“I guess we’re both disappointed then.” You say in a soft voice, careful not to let it crack.

And with that, Dick’s shadow disappears in the corridors. Leaving you alone in the training room with nothing but wooden sticks for you to reach for.

(hey guys!!! this is my first time writing anything, like, EVER. so if I made any mistakes, please lmk and I do apologize if the portrayal of dick isn’t accurate or if some of the dialogue feels cringy and unnatural)

[novaawayne]

Reuniting with Katsuki after 20 years had been... strange.

You were no longer that little girl with pigtails that Katsuki loved to pull. Nor did you have those big cheeks that Katsuki always made fun of.

No. Things were no longer the same. You were no longer five years old, and neither was Katsuki.

You had returned to your parents' house for Christmas. However, it seemed Katsuki had the same idea, as both of you were surprised to see each other in the middle of the sidewalk. Your houses were next to each other; you had always been neighbors until you went to university and moved to central Tokyo to study.

However, seeing Katsuki again was strange. He was there, wearing one of those ugly black shirts with skulls that he always liked. And although he was no longer that annoying five-year-old, many things about him were still the same.

His hair was still spiky and messy. His brow was still furrowed. There was a scowl on his face. But there were also many scars... some were visible, others not.

You had seen him on television. You knew what had happened years ago when he was just a teenager and had practically died. Probably, many things had changed since then.

He looked at you. He knew it was you. He had teased you for fifteen straight years, and your face was tattooed in his brain. You had changed a lot, but somehow you still looked the same as he remembered.

He brought a hand to the back of his neck and quickly looked away when you approached.

"Back for Christmas?" you asked cautiously.

The blond looked at you. He thought you would yell at him or slap him. He wouldn’t blame you, really. In his childhood, he had been horrible to many people, especially to you and Deku.

In the end, he nodded.

"You too?"

It was your turn to nod.

"Yes... actually..."

Someone else ran up, shouting your name. Katsuki quickly realized it was Izuku. He wasn’t too surprised; after all, his mother still lived in the neighborhood too.

When Izuku reached you, he was the one surprised to see the blond. Both had become professional heroes but didn’t see each other often, except on some occasions when their agencies worked together.

"Oh, hi Kacchan," Izuku greeted with a bright smile.

Katsuki didn't miss the way Izuku’s hand went almost automatically to the small of your back. He frowned even more.

"What are you doing here?"

Izuku looked between the two of you, realizing a bit late that he had interrupted something.

"Oh... well... it's..."

"Izuku and I are dating," you finally said. "Actually, at the end of the month, we’re moving in together."

Katsuki hid his surprise well and just nodded indifferently. Yes. He remembered it quite clearly. He teased you because he hated the way you always protected Izuku. He hated that you preferred that loser over him. He hated it because he was in love with you. He didn't realize it until he entered UA and saw you with Izuku in a café, talking like the old friends you were. However, there was something more. He knew it by the way Izuku looked at you and how you paid attention to every one of his silly words.

"Oh..." was all he could say.

He had no idea you had kept in touch after that. And he certainly never imagined you could end up dating. He hated it even now, seeing you again, and all those feelings came rushing back like an avalanche.

"I'm going in before the old lady comes out to yell at me," was the last thing he said.

"Sure," you murmured with a smile. "I hope someday the three of us can get together."

Katsuki gave you one last look before continuing on his way to his parents' house. You looked at him one last time before taking Izuku's hand and entering your own house with your boyfriend.

[iitsarss]

╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 old friend　᠀

ꔛ word count: 834 or smth⠀╱⠀established friendship (?) 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note ⠀╱⠀kms yall ive been soo unmotivated + school be kicking my ass,, plus not been on my best recently. request for anon hope u dislike it!!/J no but actually sorry this is shit,, I like making griefer a nervous mess that’s cute..anyways byee

When his dad had said, “We’re going to visit an old friend,” Griefer thought they’d end up at some elderly guy’s house, maybe some high school buddy his dad hadn’t seen in years. What he didn’t expect was to walk in and see… you.

He stood there, staring at you, frozen for a couple of seconds. And then he realized you were staring right back, which somehow made it worse. Awkward. But he couldn’t look away. Those eyes… you’d changed a lot since he’d last seen you. The quiet kid he remembered was gone, and in their place was someone he barely recognized but felt he’d known forever.

Your mom was still as sweet as ever, just like he remembered, chatting away with his dad like they’d never stopped. Even when you all sat down in the living room, they kept on, talking and laughing like they had endless stories to catch up on. Occasionally, your mom would ask Griefer a question or two, and he’d stammer out a reply, nerves on edge. And when his dad and your mom got up to make some tea, leaving the two of you alone in the room, the silence grew thick. It felt impossible to start a conversation—it was never this hard before.

Memories flooded back. You two had met when you were just six years old. He’d liked you right from the start; you were a good friend, someone he could count on to sit with at school, to meet up with after class. He remembered the way you’d climb trees together, daring each other to go higher. He remembered how you’d get quiet and a little shy whenever he brought his friends around. He remembered you almost getting expelled together on the first day of high school.

But what he remembered most was not wanting to let you go the day you left. You’d both cried, clinging to each other as you got in the car to leave town, and he could still feel the ache from that day, the hollow feeling that settled in his chest. You hadn’t told him why you were leaving, but he knew you were going to miss him just as much as he was going to miss you.

It had taken him a long time to get used to you being gone. And now here you were, right in front of him again. Taking a deep breath, he finally blurted out, “S0? H0W’VE Y0U BEEN..?”

The words tumbled out awkwardly, and he immediately cursed himself. Was that too casual? Should he have said something else? Something deeper? But his internal ranting stopped the moment you answered with a simple, “Fine.”

"Fine?" he thought. Was that a “fine!” with excitement, or just a flat “fine”? Damn, he was overthinking every little thing, and he hated it. But then the conversation found its rhythm, and soon, he was laughing with you again like no time had passed at all. He forgot how easy it was to talk to you, how natural it felt. He told you about his life—maybe not the whole Venomshank thing, and he left out the endless hours gaming—but he filled you in on enough to say he was “doing fine.” And he listened to your stories, dropping little jokes here and there just to make you laugh. God, he’d missed that laugh, the way it lifted at the edges, the way your smile always seemed to reach your eyes, making them light up.

Before he knew it, hours had passed. Time flew by with you, and he barely realized he had to leave until your mom was gently ushering everyone out the door. But, luck was on his side: she’d arranged to meet again next week.

Later, as he sat on the stairs that led to your house, you sat beside him, still smiling from the day. “IT’S B33N- UH, G00D T4LKING TO Y0U, Y’KN0W? W3 SH0ULD S33 EACH 0TH3R MOR3 0FT3N.”

You chuckled, giving him a playful look. “You missed me, huh? I missed you, too.” He felt his throat go dry at that, coughing to hide his embarrassment as he looked away.

“Y34H… 1 DID. M1SS3D MY FR13ND.”

...

When Griefer finally got back home after the long drive, he went straight to his room, kicked off his shoes, jacket, and shirt, and crashed onto his bed. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the day in his mind. He’d had so much fun, laughed more than he had in months. He’d missed that—missed you. Maybe he’d forgotten just how much he’d liked you back then.

As his thoughts drifted into more dangerous, cheesy territory, he rolled over, burying his face in his pillow, kicking his feet a little like an embarrassed kid. The feeling was undeniable, and it made his heart beat a little faster. He missed you—he really missed you.

And he knew it, especially from the way his heart skipped a beat every time he pictured your smile.

[fawnnpaws]

gawd…… ur brain. i love u.

patrick and the self-loathing… art being so insecure so sad… they’re both extra clingy to you that night, need you to make it all better.

and patrick the next day….. you’ve never seen him like that. neither has art. it’s so eerie. especially if like. you also grew up w them. idk. i looove a girl best friend trope. ANYWAYS!!! everything just feels so #off. poor sweetie patrick hates himself kinda, doesn’t know what to do

and if i said this all actually takes a huge emotional toll on you but you don’t say anything bc the two of them are worse off and you need to fix it………. if i said you fix everything for them and are their emotional comfort but end up breaking down yourself in a week because you didn’t talk about how you felt because that’s what you’ve always done with art and patrick……… its not entirely their fault, you just want to take care of them, but it’s been years in the making. years of mediating their spats, comforting them through break ups despite your pining for them, giving so much of yourself to make sure they’re okay and never voicing that you might need something in return. and now you’re navigating this new dynamic where suddenly you have the two people you’ve wanted most since you were fucking 12 years old.

you thought you knew what they needed, you thought you were equipped to handle anything they threw at you. you’d known them for the majority of your lives at this point, so seeing something completely new from patrick is terrifying. it takes days to figure out the root of the problem, days of walking on eggshells trying to get patrick to open up again. art is particularly needy because he’s just as scared as you are when patrick stops responding to your texts and spends more time out doing who knows what. you know he’s punishing himself, but you don’t know how to get him to stop. it takes locking him in a room with you and art to get him to talk, then it takes hours for the three of you to lay it all out. you address patrick’s self blaming and art’s insecurities, but you don’t say anything about how it’s affecting you. you don’t even think it’s affecting you at all - you just feel relieved that your boys have worked their feelings out in the open.

so, when things return to an improved normal, why don’t you feel better? why does it feel like there’s something gnawing in your chest? and— why are they looking at you like that?

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” they both speak at the same time, so you’re not even sure who says what, but suddenly, the two of them are on either side of you on the floor of your room with worry written all over their faces.

“what?” you hear yourself ask the question, but the words feel distant from you. like you’re watching yourself through backward binoculars. it’s then that you feel how wet your face is. you’re crying. you hadn’t even realized. come to think of it, you’re not sure how or when you ended up on the floor either. your tongue feels numb and you can’t stop the tears. you know they’re talking to you but you can’t hear them anymore. it’s like you’re being swallowed whole by a dark cloud.

the next thing you remember is an overwhelming sense of comfort. you’re laying down, pressed between two bodies. you know these bodies. art and patrick. your boys. you blink your eyes open, taking a moment to adjust to the light coming through your window. it hasn’t been that long, then. above you, art and patrick are sitting propped against your headboard and talking in hushed voices. yours cuts through them, though it’s still soft with sleep, “what happened?”

they look down at you and it’s clear how relieved that are that you’re awake. that you’re somewhat okay.

“we’re not sure, baby, but we think you might have had a panic attack.” patrick says, instinctively reaching out to touch you but hesitating, like you’re made of glass he’s afraid he’ll break. you gently take his wrist and bring his hand to your face so you can nuzzle into it. art wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you up so you’re curled up in his lap, patrick closes the gap where your body was between them and pulls your legs over his lap, so you all stay touching.

“this week was really hard on you, wasn’t it?” art asks quietly.

you think for a moment and your lip wobbles, “i just wanted to help you both. i didn’t think i needed anything else.”

“you did help us. so perfectly.” patrick says, his hand still on your face. “we should have seen it was taking a toll on you.”

“no, i should have been able to handle it. i always handle it.” you insist, tears threatening to fall again. you feel art’s arms tighten around your waist.

“you’re right, you always handle it - handle us - but we need to take care of you, too.” art says. “i mean, jesus, we put so much on you this week alone. we should have checked on you. we should have been checking on you for the last ten years.”

“you’re our girl.” patrick smiles, leaning closer to look you in the eye. “just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to do everything by yourself. we’re here for you, too, sweetheart.”

you nod, letting out a choked little sob, and the two of them are on you again, cuddling you, holding you as close as they can. you can hear the steady rhythm of their heartbeats, feel the soft rise and fall of their chests. you remember what art always asks when he’s being held like this and decide to test it for yourself, “i was good?”

the answer is immediate from both of them.

“the fucking best,” from patrick.

“so so good - perfect, baby,” from art.

warmth and love radiate from them through you, so much so that it makes you dizzy. you understand why art asks that question now.

[number1mingyustan]

Just in Case ☾

bestfriend!seungkwan x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, explicit smut, marking, mentions of cheating, protected sex, riding, mentions of oral (f.)

Summary: It was always gonna be you

Word Count: 2.9k

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(a/n: i really meant it when i said I was planning to be more active. school is still kicking my ass and I've been so unmotived to write I'm sorry. i still have a bunch of unfinished drafts but there's no telling when I'll actually finish them)

You first met Seungkwan in December 2019.

You’d gone out to the club and accidentally spilled your drink on him. In a drunken panic you tried to help, but only ended up making the situation worse and staining his clothes.

However, he didn’t get upset. He just chuckled and told you it was fine and joked about how it wasn’t his best shirt anyway.

You offered to buy him another drink to make up for it, but he politely declined and made another joke about how you’d only end up spilling it on him again.

You apologized again and went your separate ways thinking it would be the last time you saw each other. But of course, fate has a weird way of bringing people together.

Less than 4 hours later he would find you, sneaking out of his roommate's room in his apartment with your dress on backwards.

It wasn’t unusual for Jeonghan to bring a girl home, but he never could have expected it to be the clumsy girl who spilled a drink on him just a few hours prior.

Jeonghan was the first to leave the club with you and Seungkwan went back home later that night with Seokmin.

He got up to get a glass of water before going to sleep and you were there, tiptoeing around his apartment and trying to go unnoticed.

You were doing a horrible job at being quiet, but luckily Jeonghan was a heavy sleeper. Such a heavy sleepover that he didn’t realize you and Seungkwan spent the entire night talking.

Conversation came naturally to you. He was shocked initially, to say the least. But he said one thing to you and the conversation ended up lasting for hours leading into the morning.

There was something so familiar about you. It felt like you’d known each other your entire lives and you could talk so easily. You talked about any and everything together like old friends catching up.

When Jeonghan finally woke up and saw you in the kitchen chatting it up with one of his housemates, he’d assumed you’d woken up just before him. Even now it remains a secret between the two of you that you never slept that night.

Since that day, Boo Seungkwan has been your best friend.

After that night, he invited you to roller skating after finding out it was something you both enjoyed. The two of you hung out more and more over time and you were eventually adopted into the friend group.

You got comfortable with all of them, Joshua, Jihoon, Seokmin, Seungkwan, and even Jeonghan. Despite the very one time hookup, you still consider Jeonghan to now be one of your best friends.

But you’ve always been closest with Seungkwan.

————

“We’re gonna get so fucked up!” You scream to Seungkwan over the loud music in the club.

He shouts back at you in agreement before taking your hand in his. He drags you through the crowd, navigating like an expert and ensuring that you stay close to him.

You make your way to the bar and order your drinks. The bartender is nice, but a little flirty. You can admit he's cute, but he's a little touchy and you're not really feeling him all that much.

Seungkwan can sense your discomfort and nearly startles you when he touches your waist. As soon as you realize it's your best friend, you melt into his touch and all your discomfort has dissolved.

"Sorry," he says. "Didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted him to get the message."

You nod. "I understand, thank you." You smile.

You both down your drinks easily and continue with your night out. You spend the new few hours dancing and singing along to the generic club music. Your best friend stays close to you and he looks out for you like he always does.

"You don't have to stay attached to me all night you know, it's your first night out as a single man in a while." You bump your shoulder against his playfully. "I don't wanna scare off any opportunities for you to meet someone."

"You know I didn't come here looking for anything," He gives you a soft smile.

"That doesn't mean you can't find something," You muse, raising an eyebrow.

He takes a sip from his drink. "Thanks, but no thanks. Let's just have fun tonight."

You shrug, bumping your glass against his before downing the rest of your drink.

The next few hours were spent dancing, laughing and drinking. It was nice to see your best friend let loose again, but the night eventually came to an end and he ordered an uber.

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The two of you sat leaned against one another in the backseat. The ambiance was comforting, set by the music playing quietly from the radio and the lights from the city surrounding you.

You two enter his apartment together and you immediately throw yourself onto the couch with a sigh of satisfaction. Your eyes fall shut and a smile appears on your face. "My feet were killing me."

Seungkwan crouches down in front of you wordlessly and helps you take off your shoes. You thank him quietly and he disappears into his bedroom.

When your eyes flutter open, he's re-entering the living room with something in hand.

"Here," He hands you a t-shirt of his. "So you don't have to stay in that dress either."

You mouth a 'thank you' before stumbling into the bathroom to change out of your clothes.

"You know," You plop down on the couch next to him. "You still haven't told me why you guys ended things.

Seungkwan sighs. "I know. It's nothing though, don't worry about it. Things just weren't working out, you know?"

"Yeah, it's a shame."

"You didn't even like her," Seungkwan chuckles.

"That's only because she didn't like me first!" You defend. "Never even understood that."

"She was just... nevermind. Doesn't matter now."

"No," You sit up and frown. "Tell me."

He sighs. "She was just kind of jealous of you. Ended up driving the whole relationship into the ground."

A beat.

"You guys broke up because of..me?"

Seungkwan leans his back against the couch. "Like not really... but yeah."

You frown. "Why would you do that?"

"You already knew she didn't like you Y/n."

"Yeah, but you ended a two-year-long relationship. What the hell?"

"Things just weren't working out."

"Yeah... because of me!" You sigh.

"You didn't do anything. She was just jealous and insecure. You ended up being the topic of conversation way more than needed and it was so frustrating. It was a constant argument for those two years and I got exhausted."

"I knew she didn't like me, but I didn't know it was that serious. I feel guilty as hell now, like I ruined your entire relationship."

"You didn't."

"But I did," You frown.

"Do you know how exhausting it was? For two years I had to put up with her turning everything into an argument about you. I was constantly being accused of something and then I'd have to be reassuring her and coddling her like a baby. It was like a never-ending cycle about the same thing Y/n. I could only do that so much before I lose my mind."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you didn't do anything wrong." He pats your head softly. "Seriously."

"I know I just... feel bad. I feel like I compromised your happiness" You pout.

"You could never. You're my best friend." He gives you a reassuring smile.

He rises to his feet.

"I'm getting tired, are you ready for bed?"

You remain silent, giving him a small nod. About 10 minutes later you find yourself laying in bed next to him. The lights are dim, but you can still make out the features of his face clearly.

You don't know why your heart is suddenly beating so fast. It's so quiet in the room that he just might be able to hear it.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Huh?" You mumble. "Nothing."

"You know you can't lie to me," he grins.

"I don't know," You sigh. "You just feel so like... close right now. I don't know."

"Oh," He breathes out. "Do you want me to take the couch? It's never been an issue before."

"No!" You say a little louder than intended. "No," Your voice softens. "I just... what you told me earlier about Hayeon. Like, what if she's right?"

"That there's something romantic between us? I'm not sure I understand you Y/n."

"I mean, you just said it yourself. It's never been a problem for us to sleep in the same bed, but isn't that kind of weird? Like you and I have always been close... but maybe this is too close?"

"I think you're drunk and still hung up on my stuff with Hayeon.

"You're drunk too," You frown.

"Yeah, but I'm not speaking a bunch of nonsense right now." He pushes your hair out of your face softly. "Go to sleep Y/n."

"No," You protest.

"Y/n–"

You weren't really thinking when you kissed him. It just sort of... happened. Granted, he wasn't really thinking when he kissed you back either.

It felt so natural, like you were kissing a lover of 10 years. it was easy to melt into his touch, everything was just so easy with him. Your hands are in his hair, tugging lightly at the blue-tinted strands atop his head.

You let out a soft moan against his lips, pressing your body against his.

You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. Floating on a cloud of bliss while simultaneously drowning deeper and deeper in him.

He pulls away, breathless with swollen lips. You both lay on your side, staring at one another. Neither of you really know what to say. Your heart is still beating out of your chest as you lick your lips slowly, relishing in the lingering taste of him.

"What the hell Y/n?"

"I'm sorry! I don't know," You panic, covering your face in embarrassment.

He sighs, falling onto his back. "Why did you do that?"

"It's not like we've never kissed before."

"Yeah, but not like that. The worst I've ever done with you was barely a peck. That was different."

"You felt it too?"

"What?"

You fall silent. There's a million things running through your head and they're all circling back to him.

"I don't know!"

"That's not a good enough answer.

"That's not fair to me," he frowns.

"Of course I have," he huffs out. "From the very first moment I met you, you made me feel something. It's been what, 5 years? When you left the bar that night, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was convinced I'd never see you again. And then I did! Yeah you had just fucked my roommate and it was somewhat heart breaking, but from the moment I met you I knew I wanted you in my life. You were just... I don't know. You were shining a little brighter than anyone else in that club. You've got an aura about you that's hard to ignore."

You sit there, completely speechless.

"I know that I felt something for you since that night. I don't know if it really ever went away. I know I loved Hayeon when I was with her, I'm not saying I didn't. I don't know if I've been ignoring what I've felt for you, or if I really did get over it. But you suddenly deciding this now is confusing for me." He frowns.

For the second time that night, you act before thinking yet again. Your lips are on his and you find yourself melting into his touch. He kisses you back, pulling your body on top of his.

You don't know what you're doing or why you're really doing it, but it feels good. It feels right, like it's something you know you won't regret even though it may be confusing.

You straddle his lap and his hands rest comfortable on your lower back. His kisses are addictive, leaving you breathless with a fuzzy head.

You pull away to catch your breath, staring down at him with lust in your eyes. Wordlessly, you feel his shirt off your body and toss it onto the ground.

His eyes go wide and his breath gets caught in his throat. "Are you sure?"

"Never been so sure in my life. I want this... if you do too," you breathe out.

"Course I want this," He responds.

He pulls you back down and reconnects your lips with fervent passion. You grind yourself against him slowly, body moving on its own accord with his.

You tug at his shirt lightly and he breaks the kiss again to pull it off of his body.

"Shit," You breathe out. "Do you have any condoms?"

He nods. "In the drawer."

You reach over to his nightstand and open the drawer. You fish out the small gold package and tear it open with your teeth.

"You know, it's not safe to do that." he muses. "Could poke a hole or something."

"Oh well," You smirk, disposing of the gold packaging. "Maybe you'll just have to knock me up."

He raises an eyebrow at your statement. "Knock you up? But you're my best friend."

You let out a scoff and lean back, rolling the latex on his length. "Don't think.." You lift your hips, slowly sinking down onto him. You wince at the initial feeling. "Don't think I'd be on top of you like this if I was just your best friend."

He breathes out, tilting his head back into the pillow. His nails dig into your hips as he feels himself stretching you out.

You both let out a gasp as you start grinding down on him slowly. He holds you steady by your hips as you start to pick up your pace. you tilt your head back, gripping onto the sheets for support.

"Shit," he breathes out.

Your breathing grows heavier and you find yourself getting lost in the pleasure. It feels so good, so right. It's not fully processing in your head that you're riding your best friend right now.

"Should've done this sooner," You mumble to yourself.

Seungkwan can only nod in agreement. He's in awe watching as you bounce on his cock. The room is still dimly lit, but there's just enough moonlight seeping between the blinds for him to see how gorgeous you are.

He wants this image of you forever etched in his brain. He slides one of his hands from your hip to your inner thigh. Your pace is disrupted when you feel his thumb pressed against your clit.

"Oh fuck," You curse out.

He smirks to himself as he picks but the pace with his finger. You match his movements, falling back into your rhythm as ride him. He leans back deeper into the bed and pushes his hips up to meet you halfway.

His cock now brushes deep inside of you, hitting the same spot that has you struggling to stay quiet. Your nails are digging deeper into his bedsheets and you're whining out loud.

His thumb draws quick circles on your clit and his eyes never leave your frame. He watches you bounce on his cock, filling yourself up and cry out his name.

Fuck. He really regrets not doing this sooner.

He knows he won't last much longer. The intimacy and pleasure of it all is too intense. He applies more pressure on your sensitive bud, causing you to moan louder.

"Close," You warn him breathlessly.

He sits up on the bed, pulling your frame closer against his. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He sucks on your skin, nibbling softly and ensuring he marks you. He knows he might regret this in the morning, but he can't help himself. He has you now and he can't help but want a little reminder.

Moments later you're falling apart in his lap. You gasp your air pathetically as your hips lose rhythm and you tighten around his cock. He's losing his fucking mind.

You squeeze around him, driving him into his own orgasm and milking him for everything he's got. He groans into your skin as he spills his load into the condom.

Both your chests rise and fall against one another as you tap back into your senses. He places one last kiss on your cheek before he lifts you off his lap and lays you on the bed. He disposes of the condom and lays down next to you.

The room falls silent and neither of you is really sure what you should say.

You break the silence. "Now what?"

He shrugs.

"I feel like, like we need to talk about this."

"We should."

"Okay.... so.." You start.

He shushes you lightly, placing a finger on your lips. "Later."

You blink at him slowly. “What?”

He ignores you, pulling you in by the legs. “Later.”

“Is now a bad time?” Your voice is filled with confusion.

"No, it’s just you know…," he strokes your arm softly. "If we wake up tomorrow and decide this isn't for the better, I want to have at least had a taste."

You eyes go wide.

He smirks at you, pulling your body closer to his. "Just in case, y'know?"

You bite your lower lip, meeting his suggestive gaze.

"Yeah," You lean into his touch, allowing him to pin you down on the bed. "Just in case."

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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[koolades-world]

One bed troupe w/ Belphie

According to Belphie, this was the perfect day. It could even be called the best day ever in his eyes.

But to you, not so much.

Your day together started with the two of you enjoying a late breakfast together. Neither of you made it, actually. Asmo had made dinner last night, so you were eating leftover at the same time. Belphie thought it was rather romantic. You were half asleep and almost microwaved your fork by accident. After that, you were productive together. You both tried to get some homework done, in which Belphie ended up lounging across your lap while you did some mindless D.D.D. scrolling because your excuse was that you could no longer reach your school supplies.

Later that day, you almost went out with Mammon and Asmo to shop, but eventually opted to stay in with Belphie, because he said he would get lonely if you left him, which was probably untrue because Beel would gladly spend time with him if he wanted. He wanted to spent time in the attic with you. To you, it didn’t matter that much because all eight of you were supposed to head out for dinner that night with Diavolo. Knowing him, he’d convince you all to spend the night at his place somehow, because Lucifer can’t say no to him. You’d get to spent more than enough time with them later.

So, to indulge him, you let him drag you up the stairs to the attic to cuddle. The door shut behind you with a gentle click, but in the moment, you could only think about each other. He dragged you into the bed in the center on the attic and clung onto you like a koala. The two of you did a couple things that you deemed fun, such as a tickle fight and a short game of chase.

By the time you realized you were locked in, it was far too late. They’re probably already left for dinner, assuming you were just busy, since sometimes that would happen. Whenever you had group affairs, one person was always late because they forgot and remembered after the fact, leaving then to rush to where ever the rest of the group was. This time, they probably thought it was you and Belphie.

However, what they didn’t know was that you wouldn’t be meeting up with them because when you’d entered the attic, the door had closed behind you and trapped you in. When Belphie had unceremoniously dragged you away, you’d left your D.D.D. downstairs somewhere, probably on the dining table. Belphie’s was dead, which wasn’t unusual, but unfortunate. Once you realized, you began to freak out, but Belphie was much more relaxed.

“What if they’re worried they’re about to get a ransom video for our lives?” You paced the length of the attic, running your hand along your forehead. You knew how quickly his brothers escalated things when confronted with a minor problem, no less having two family members missing.

“Let them worry, for all I care. I have you all to myself now, don’t I? Besides, it’s not like we’re in danger or anything.” Belphie was tossing a stray tennis ball up and down in the air, while lounging on the bed. You weren’t really sure how much time had passed while you were messing around, but you assumed they were at least halfway through dinner.

“While that’s sweet and all, if that’s how that was intended, aren’t you worried? Even a little?” You sighed and propped yourself against one of the window sills.

“It’s not like we got stuck here on purpose, although anything beats dinner with Lucifer.” Belphie chuckled as you began to chide him for poking fun at his brother. You began to relax more as time went on, and you eventually decided to start cleaning while you were there. As you swept the floor with a spare broom, Belphie chatted with you. He was oddly awake.

You also hoped to find some extra blankets while sorting through some old looking boxes in hopes of staying warm. You couldn’t deny how chilly it was getting up in the attic. Belphie seemed unbothered, but you knew how cold Devildom nights got, and you weren’t dressed appropriately for the night.

“Mc, I’m tired. Come nap with me.” Belphie was still on the bed, arms outstretched to you. A draft swept over the room, causing you to shiver. “See, you’re cold. I’ll keep you warm.” His directness was something you admired about him, and it worked for you in this situation, so you obliged him.

“Is it really a nap at this point? It’s getting late.” You quickly tucked yourself under the covers and let him cling to you. He was very warm. You leaned into the embrace, welcoming the waves of heat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He buried his face in your hair. “Is this my shampoo?” He didn’t move.

“Maybe? It’s whatever bottle I grabbed first this morning so maybe you got the luck of the draw.” You fully well knew you grabbed his shampoo that morning. While you hadn’t picked it out on purpose, you knew the smell well.

“You’re cute. Now, good night. If we’re lucky, maybe my brothers will walk in on us cuddling and get jealous.” His words made you internally smile. If you actually smiled, he’d feel it and stay awake longer. You didn’t fall asleep as immediately as he did, as you heard him lightly snore once or twice, but you were able to revel in the body warmth and fuzzy feelings you got from being around him.

You just hoped his brothers wouldn’t be too freaked out when they couldn’t find you. (You knew they would for sure act like the world was ending and not let you out of their sight for a while)