#snap your fingers like that again and I’ll drop to my knees and howl like a dog

[do-it-jakey-baby]

If anyone wants to know where I’m at right now 🙃

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

School Nurse

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby led me to yet another 2D man that I want to get wrecked by

How would a school nurse react to Hwajin’s presence? Dabauchery will ensue.

AN: this started out as a short little drabble, turned into a long smutty mess that I finally rangled in with romance because… after care. As a nurse I was getting to into the logistics of the pencil stab

TW: smut, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, power exchange, mild wound description (pencil stab), sex in a nurses office, oral sex

NO MINORS

Hwajin knew you would look good on your knees. You had a bratty, stubborn nature that he wanted to overpower. He thought you were too gentle with trouble makers. When he told you this, you argued that it was your job as a school nurse to take care of all the students.

How was it that you were so hostile with him but when it came to even the worst students you were so gentle. It irritated him. You actively avoided him. Maybe he wouldn't care if he didn't find you so damn adorable. Thoughts of you kept him company late at night.

Even when he forced you to take a baton after he saw a student get in your face yelling. The only person you used it against was him. Apparently you wouldn't allow him to pull students out of your office regardless of their offense.

He was shocked to learn that few students ever bothered you. The worst offenders would constantly make advances at you and since you would have his head, he disciplined them only once you were out of range.

And you were equally irate. He treated you like a child when you tried to present him with research that aggression towards children under the age of 18 was just as detrimental as ignoring their bad behavior. You weren't against addressing the students inappropriate behavior, but the number of visits to your office had tripled upon his arrival.

It become rare that schools had a nurse on campus, barely coming back in to practice following the hands off policy. And at the most part you were mainly treating the faculty and the more unlucky students. If the Ministry of Education wanted to bring in people like Na, would you even have a job much longer?

/

"What are you doing here? I'm not harboring any students," You hissed as the warden entered your office.

"If I remember correctly, I'm here to oversee the whole school. That includes you. Besides I actually need medical help."

Hwajin turned the lock on the door before unbuttoning his shirt. He turned around to show you a shallow hole between his shoulder blades. You tried to keep the blush from creeping on to your face as you scanned his muscular body.

Apparently a student surprised him by sinking a pencil into his skin.

"Violence breeds violence," You chided when the realization hit. "Oh god, did you kill the student?"

You were truly alarmed. He took slight offense to that question. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't going to kill someone on the job.

"Just give me something to bandage this up," he rolled his eyes.

You motioned for him to sit on the medical table but of course he had to make things difficult, choosing to straddle a chair instead. In spite of his protests that he could take care of things himself you pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Don't be such a pain, Mr. Na. There's no way you can properly clean what's on your back."

You probed around the wound that was already angry and red. The blood has begun to dry. Trying not to cause unnecessary pain you attempted to visually assess the bed of the wound for any debris that may lead to infection.

Instinctively he howled in pain as you began to clean.

"Will you just put a bandaid over it so I can get back to my job?"

You had to admit you were getting some sick satisfaction from this. The wound was clean and you applied an anti bacterial ointment but it was in a location where the skin tended to pull and stretch so you were sure it would bleed throughout the day-

"Are you smoking in my office?"

Hwajin gave you a cheeky grin before blowing smoke toward your face.

The nerve. In retaliation you flicked the inflamed skin while avoiding the actual wound.

"Ouch, you're cute when you get angry," Na laughed.

Your cheeks were scorching, "Okay Mr Na, you're all wrapped up. Stop by at the end of the day so I can change the bandage."

He winked while buttoning up shirt, "I knew you liked seeing me."

"Out." You hissed.

As he walked down the halls he chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait for you to submit to him.

/

Through out the day your mind wandered to Hwajin. Him sitting in front of you, shirtless and rippled with muscle. The parts of his skin left unscarred were so soft compared to his attitude. You wondered if his palms were as soft or were they were rough and calloused.

As if on cue the man walked into your office, catching you during one of your fantasies. Was it already the end of the day? Sure enough, the clock showed school let out half an hour ago.

Just like before he secured the door and stripped off his shirt. The bandage wasn't soaked, but it did need to be changed. The day warped your work and some of the tape was lifted away from his skin.

This time politely in the chair, he hummed as you removed and replaced the soiled bandage.

"Starting tomorrow you should just leave it open to air. This is really just to keep you getting your blood on your shirt. If you start thinking you have an infection go to the hospital." You turned around to discard your gloves.

As you turned back, you bumped into Hwajin Na. He smiled down at you and ruffled your hair, "Thanks, nurse, you took such good care of me. You'll have to let me thank you."

He lowered his mouth to your whisper in your ear, "what should I do for you?"

Your were in a losing position, you didn't want to make eye contact but you couldn't stare straight ahead, he still wasn't dressed and it was too overwhelming. You settled on looking down toward his feet.

You quickly snapped your eyes back up when you notice a bulge trying to push past his pants.

"Uh, no need to thank me. It's my job." You stepped back against the wall, at least giving you a bit more space.

Hwajin placed his arms against the wall so he could close the space between you.

"What's wrong? You're flushed. Let's see if you have a fever." He pressed forehead against your. "You feel a bit warm, but not worrisome."

You stammered, "Uh, Mr Na, it's late so we should probably wrap up."

"Mr Na," he mocked you. "Why do you do that? We're both adults, you can call me Hwajin."

Your eyes darted around the room. Maybe you were being punked. Was he testing you?

"It's respectful, it would be rude to call you by your first name."

He brushed a stand of hair behind your shoulder, pleased with your response.

"Well I can think of other titles you could call me that I would enjoy much more."

You were struggling between your desire and your fear of losing your job. Surely he knew what he was doing to you.

Of course he knew, the gleam in his eyes made that clear.

"Well, it's pretty late and I don't know about you but I'm tired after today so I'll see you tomorrow."

He dropped his hands and you took that as the end of his teasing. But instead he hoisted you against him, grasping the back of your thighs.

"My poor little nurse, I've kept you so busy. How about you lay down and let me help you relax."

"Hwajin, put me down," You smacked his shoulder. Listening, he sat you down the cot you constantly sanitized. In spite of what you were saying you allowed him to crawl on top of you.

"Hmm, now you use my first name, little nurse? And here I thought you were respectful," he nipped at your ears.

You shivered.

"Well pick one," You groaned. "First, no last name, then no first name. What's left."

His tongue darted across your neck while began tearing at your clothes, "how about you just be a good girl and call me 'Sir'."

At this point the primal part of your brain took over as you pathetically began to rub against his thigh. Your Irrational brain didn't need a job, it just needed this man to fuck her.

Nearly all your clothes were discarded to the floor as his mouth began to tease your breasts. Your hand tangled in his hair when sink his teeth into your tender flesh.

"Talk to me baby," he sighed. "Use your words, ask for what you want."

You lay out a whimper and tugged at belt loops, "fuck me."

He pinched your in thigh, "Now that's not using your manners. Am I going to need to teach you to behave?"

You mumbled a response that he could barely hear, eliciting another pinch to your thigh.

You huffed, "fine, please fuck me, Sir"

Pleased with your response he tugged your panties to the side, stroking your soaked pussy with his middle knuckle.

"Atta girl. You're so fucking wet for me. How long have you been waiting to be my little slut?"

He slid one finger inside of you with ease, arching you back as moved inside you. You were trying to fumble at his the button of his pants but he pushed your hands off him.

With a growl he removed his hands and your underwear from your body, "Not yet, although I'm flattered how desperate you are for me. Turn over, ass in the air, show me what's mine."

You were happy to obey, sliding into one of your favorite positions.

"You're not be very nice, sir," You teased. "You could at least remove your pants."

His hands came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Watch what you say, unless you like being disciplined. You already know I don't tolerate disobedience. And as much as enjoy your screams, don't forget that just because school is over doesn't mean everyone is gone."

You bite your tongue as he spanked you again. He certainly wasn't holding back. But he was right, there were after school clubs and some teachers stayed as late as 8. His fingers found their way inside your warmth again, fluid dripping from your aching cunt. You had adjust to his rhythm of spanking when his fingers were at their deepest. You felt so close to release. When he withdrew from you yet again.

You let out a frustrated groan until his hand made firm contact with your pussy. Once, twice, three times produce a wet spanking sound. You couldn't hold in your tears, thankful you were a glutton for pain.

"You still with me, princess?" He cooed, getting off the bed. You nodded. "Good girl, hold that position for me just a bit longer."

You nodded again, words evading your mind. You appreciated the coolness produced by the cot. Hwajin repositioned the pillow that had fallen on the floor and removed his belt.

Standing next to you on the bed he finally directed you into another position. He helped you stand, barefoot on the linoleum floor. You were held against his chest as you gathered your bearings.

He nuzzled against your hair, "I'm not a gentle man, if you need to stop at any time you say so okay. And that's an order. Can you do that for me princess?"

You told him you would as he helped you sink your knees to the pillow. He ruffled your hair again, telling you how good you looked. Finally he unzipped his pants, his erect dick right in front of you.

"Look at me."

You complied, tearing your ways away from his cock.

"If you want my dick then prove it. Open up that pretty mouth of yours."

He grabbed you by the hair, guiding your lips his shiny tip. Your tongue circled around him, admiring his taste. You weren't usually self conscious but you couldn't help but be nervous you'd disappoint him. As you began wrap your lips around him, Hwajin inhaled sharply. He gave your hair a gentle tug.

"Eyes on me. Good. You're doing so well. All the way to the base, baby."

You were almost there when there was a knock at your door. Hwajin kept his grip firm on you, instead of allowing you to pull back he shoved his throbbing dick down your throat and began fucking your mouth while putting a finger to his lips. He was smirking like the devil. Your throat constricting in protest.

"Excuse me, nurse," one of the school kids called. Knocking again.

"Fuck," Na muttered as he released into your mouth. Tears spilled over your eyes as you struggled to swallow.

The nock persisted, "hellooo? Come on I need to pick up a physical form."

"She's busy, fuck off."

As the footsteps faded down the hall Na released you from his grasp. He couldn't help but laugh at you when you pouted up at him, your were glistening and your cheeks were rosy and puffy. God, next time he swore he would take a photo of you on your knees after sucking his dick.

"Really, you had to open up your loud mouth," You whined. "You could've just pretended no one was here."

He shrugged in response, helping you off the floor.

This time on the cot you were both undressed. Hwajin sucked and bite on your neck. You nudged him off telling him he was gonna leave a mark.

"You're telling me I can't mark up my little whore?"

"Just not where students can see."

That was fair enough, there were other places he'd rather leave bruises. Between your thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Proof that he had made you his.

He wouldn't bite too rough, not want to scare you off. He planned on making more of these moments with you. You were better in person. Exceeding his late night fantasies.

Finally he began to slide his cock inside you, your pussy searing with pleasure at his size. It was a struggle to control the volume of your moans.

"Does my little slut like that? You want me to stuff you?"

"Please," You cried, needing more or his touch. "Please don't stop, Sir. Please let me cum on your dick."

Hwajin began to pound harder into your tight pussy, admiring how your body reacted to the sheer force of him. Each time he snapped his hips against you, your lush breasts, along with the rest of your body, followed with an intoxicating jiggle.

You were exactly what he needed and he wished to consume you. His mind flashed to images of you tied up and exposed for him, placing all of your trust in him. Or he could snap a pretty collar around your neck and tie you to the bed with a leash, you would be begging him to fuck you like a bitch.

"Tell me need me," he growled. "That no one else can fuck you into submission and make you dumb with pleasure. Your mine and I don't share."

Tears rushed down your face as a mixture of pain and desire burst the pressure in your core. You clenched around him, babbling what he instructed you to and meaning every word.

The tightness of your orgasm shocked both you and Hwajin. Paired along with your heat pushed the man past his limit, releasing his thick cum inside of you. Even through the near blinding pleasure of his own release Hwajin felt a moment of worry, he hadn't meant to pour himself inside of you, he was fully aware he wasn't wearing protect and had gotten your consent.

Between your gasps and moans you were were repeating a breathy thank you. Unless he had died and gone to Heaven You were actually begging him for more of his seed. Crying out that you needed him to stuff you full. The man nearly confessed his love for you on the spot.

However he maintained his composure. Pressing closer to you and guiding you through the high of your orgasm.

He combed his fingers through your hair, whispering praises and reassurance. Telling you to relax into him, he wasn't going anywhere. Finally your grip on him relaxed as a gluttonous smile graced your lips.

Na propped himself up next to you with his elbow. His other hand cupping your face.

You looked at Hwajin, "This doesn't mean I'm going to ignore your behavior towards the students."

"You know, seeing you protective over a bunch of snot nosed punks makes me want to fuck you until your nine months pregnant. It would keep you out of my hair while you were stuck waddling around home safe and sound. Win-win."

You gawked at him. Joking that you had yet to see any paternal instincts from him.

"I am actually great with children so long as their raised right. Like hell I'd let my kids turn out like these delinquents."

The two of you bantered back and forth while re-dressing. It was dark by the time you exited the school. Na was lighting a cigarette the minute he was past the schools threshold. You began to tell him goodnight where the two of you should naturally part ways but Hwajin caught you by the wrist, a confused expression thrown your way.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were about to respond when he cut you off. "Round two will be so much better in my bed. You'll be lucky if You leave my place in time for work tomorrow. But we should probably feed you first. I gotta take care of my little nurse."

[theunquenchablethirst]

Joyride (Jerome X Reader)

Smut, NSFW, 18+, porn without plot, honestly just hot, nasty filth 

Do not read unless you are a deviant!

Reader is walking home down a street she knows just like the back of her hand, but today there's an unfamiliar car parked up. Paying it no mind she continues past it, but soon discovers today is not going to be any regular day when a sinister voice calls to her from the mysterious car behind her.

Vaginal fingering, blowjobs, rough sex, semi-public sex, car sex, bondage, chocking, spanking, dom/sub undertones, dub-con, strong language, murder, kidnap

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Masterlist

I walked that street nearly every day, to and from Gotham High. I had for years. This would be my last year as I was 18 and about to graduate.

Everything seemed as normal as ever. The pretzel cart, the lady that walked her little dog, the kids playing jump rope. A fairly quiet street. I didn't know it then, but that day would be anything, but normal.

I was approaching the end of the street where I would cross the road. There was a car parked up I hadn't seen before. Big, black with tinted windows. I didn't pay it much attention and wasn't hesitant to carry on my walk past it. I reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the traffic to quiet so I could cross over, then behind me I heard the familiar sound of a car window winding down.

"Hey, princess." A sinister voice called.

I turned to look and peering out of the black car window was him. The most dangerous, most wanted man in Gotham city. Jerome Valeska.

I'd only seen him on the news and in papers before, but even then, he had scared me. He'd brought the city to its knees and left a trail of bodies and madness wherever he went. And now he was right in front of me.  

"Can I give you a ride?" He asked with his signature smile plastered on his scarred face, voice dripping with menace.

I froze still. I wanted to run as fast as I could, but his stare glued me to my spot.

"Come on, doll. I'll be nice."

I took a step back, weighing the risk of making a run for it. He sucked his teeth and looked down for something.

"I'd offer you candy, but uh..." He pulled a gun up to the window and pointed it at me.

"... Something tells me I won't need to." His smile somehow grew bigger as he locked his eyes on mine.

My heart was beating so loud I thought the whole city would be able to hear it. I had no choice. Knees weak, I nervously walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. I sat in the seat next to him, but pressed myself as close to the window as I could. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even if it was only by a few inches.  

"Ah, safety first. Seatbelt." He said dropping his smile and cocking his head.

Not caring weather or not he was joking, I pulled down the belt and buckled myself in. I did not want to make him angry. He grinned eerily and panic rose in my chest as his eyes burned holes in me.  

He reached a gloved hand out to my face. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stroked his knuckles down my jaw line and neck. His hand moved lower still down my arm, only stopping when he got to my shaking hand. I was grasping my bag so tightly my knuckles had turned white. He tugged at it a few times wanting me to let go. I released the bag and he pulled it off my lap and into his.

"Let's see what we got here."

He started to rummage through my possessions pulling each one out, mostly dubbing them boring and dumping them out of the window.

"Pain killers, boring. Pencil case, extra boring. Ooh, Jolly Ranchers! Don't mind if I do!"

He popped a sweet in his mouth, threw the rest over his shoulder into the back seat and got back to snooping.

"Keys, boring. Oh! A diary! I'll save that for later! A can of mace...."

He paused then let out a loud cackle as he held the mace.

"Oh, princess! Bet you wish you'd switched this out for a gun right about now!" He continued to giggle as he dived a hand back in.

"Aha! Phone!" He dropped my bag back in my lap and opened up my flip phone.

"You won't be needing this." He smirked and snapped it, letting the two halves fall and disappear under the driver's seat. Dread began to settle in as it dawned upon me that I now had no way to call for help and my mace was lying in the street. Not that it would've been much use against him anyway.

"Ok! Let's get this party started!" His giggled as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned towards me and revved the engine.

"Vroom, vroom." He mocked.

I sat there clutching my bag, waiting for the car to start moving. He fiddled with the gear stick and then slammed his foot down on the pedal as if there was a deadly bug that needed to be squashed. The tyres screeched like they were taking a layer of tarmac with them and he took off like a boy racer.  

I let out a scream as the sudden, fast pace sent a shockwave right through me. I sent my hands searching for something, anything to hold on to. There was a turn coming up, but I noticed it too late and I was flung into the side of the door like a ragdoll. All the time the loudest noise in my ear was maniacal laughter coming from Jerome in driver's seat. He was driving like he stole it, but then again, it was entirely possible he did.

"More?" He looked at me with a mischievously.

I shook my head, breathlessly, praying to any god that was listening that he actually cared about my answer.

"I think more." He sharply turned into an empty car park and spun around and around and around. I was pressed right up against him as I clung to the bottom of my seat. He laughed and banged his hand on the wheel, continuing to spin us around.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed forgetting myself.  

"Oh, I love 'em with fire!" He laughed again.  

Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I jolted forwards like a crash dummy so hard I thought I would hit the windshield. He'd been right about the seatbelt. I stared straight ahead and tried to catch my breath, when I heard angry shouting. An employee of the restaurant that owned the car park was making his way over to us with a red face.

Jerome stuck his head out of the window.

"What's that, pal?"  

I heard more shouting.

"Ok." Jerome reached for the gun and shot the employee straight in the head. I gasped at the sound and he fell down like a sack of bricks.

"Problem solved." Jerome grinned and pocketed the gun.

I felt my stomach turn. I'd just seen a murder right in front of me. That poor man. Jerome started the car again and left the car park, where he'd left a dead body and certainly tyre tracks.

"Some fun, eh kid?" He smiled at me. I couldn't find any words to reply. He sighed.

"I hate awkward silences." He reached down and turned on the radio. He flicked through a few channels until he found one playing music he seemed to like. An old rock station.

"Now this is better!" He looked at me with a satisfied smile, but dropped it when I still didn't reply.

"How do I get you to talk? Do I gotta drop a quarter in ya?" He turned another corner onto a straight, quiet road.

"I know." He smirked with a menacing look in his eyes.  

He pushed the pedal down, once again picking up speed. He was driving like there was money on it, but I'd at least managed to brace myself this time. He slowed a little as he got in place to drive side by side with the only other car on the road. He chuckled darkly to himself and then I realized why. Fear took my senses when I saw in the not too far distance, heading straight at us was a giant truck. The driver in the car next to us began to honk the horn and flash obscene hand gestures as the truck grew closer, but Jerome simply turned the radio up and began singing along with the words.

"Jerome..." I said tugging at his arm.

Nothing. And the truck was now honking at us to move.  

"Jerome!"  

The truck was too close for comfort. The sense that I was about to be flattened because of the idiot at the wheel filled my body.

"Jerome, move the damn car!" I shook his arm fiercely and slammed my fists in my chair.

He finally burst out cackling maniacally with an outrageous smile.

He slammed down the pedal and pulled forward in front of the car beside us, missing the truck by a hair. He laughed and howled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, whilst I sighed the biggest sigh of my life and slid low down my seat. He pulled over and parked.

"Nothing like a little near-death experience to get the blood flowing, eh doll?"  

I had melted into my seat and wasn't really paying attention.

"So, how'd you like me so far?"

"Is that a serious question?" I replied breathlessly. I didn't know where I got the confidence for it, but the words were coming out.

He just giggled.

"Ok, how about I behave... For a while."

"How about you let me go?"

He lifted a long finger at me.

"Tut tut, doll face. Don't make me wiggle my finger at you."

I shuffled backwards in my seat, propping myself upright again.

"So, you know my name? Are you stalking me?" He put his hand on his chest in mock fear.

"Everyone in Gotham knows your name. You're Jerome Valeska. You've terrorised the city and murdered dozens of people. The Gotham Gazette makes sure we don't miss these things."  

"The Gotham Gazette, huh? Note to self, send a gift basket their way." He chuckled to himself then looked at me.

“So, what’s yours?”

I told him my name. I was reluctant, but I was already here in the car with him.

“Hm, cute.” He replied.

I didn’t know why, but him calling me cute made me blush a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.

“You look fun.” He smiled.

“What do you mean?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer.

He pulled my diary out of the door pocket.

“Let’s get to know you, shall we?”  

“That’s private.” I said sheepishly. I really didn’t want him reading what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t stop him.

“Not anymore.” Jerome flicked through the pages, skimming them for interesting thoughts and secrets. It didn’t look like he was finding anything juicy, until he stopped at one page and read it in its entirety.

“I got asked out by a guy in my maths class. He’s nice, but really boring. Just like everyone else in my life. Even if I wanted to go out with him, my dad wouldn’t allow it. He says men are the devil and the only one I can trust is him. Yeah right, Mr it’s 5’oclock somewhere. Even if I took that seriously, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. The only guys in my life are complete clichés. So very predictable, so very dull. I’m so bored of this same old-same old. I want something exciting, an adventure. I need some thrills in this beige goddamn existence!”

He repeated back to me the words I had written just a week prior. He turned to me with a predatory look in his eyes. He let the diary fall from his hands carelessly and I knew then that I would be his prey. He took his gloves off and reached a hand towards my knee. He stroked and squeezed my leg and then journeyed up higher, fingers crawling underneath the hem of my skirt.

“Be careful what you wish for, doll face.” He smirked, darkly.

My breath caught in my chest and I felt a warmth in my core.

"I thought you said you were gonna behave." I peeped.

"I did, didn't I? I guess I lied."  

He pulled my skirt up and ran a finger along my panty covered slit. He was turning me on. I wanted him. He was everything I had been looking for, but it was wrong. I couldn’t give in to this.

"Please... Stop..." I pleaded pathetically.

"Mmm, I don't think I will."  

He softly rubbed my folds through the white cotton. My breath got heavier and I felt the heath build.

"It would be so easy for me to push these little things out of the way and slide my fingers inside you, right now. Wouldn't it?"

"Please... Don't..."

He giggled darkly.

"Oh, princess. You're just too cute."  

He smiled as he moved the material to the side exposing my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down my slit, my juices covering the tips. I squirmed at his touch and tried to scooch back in my seat.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, doll, but you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't really want me inside you." He cooed. His words crashed into me like rocks. He could read my body just as well as my diary. I couldn't hide my desire from him and I didn’t want too.  

He continued to rub for a few more seconds before plunging a finger deep inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion and he smirked, seemingly satisfied with my response. He worked me with his finger, pulling out before sliding it back in and deciding to add another. He slowly pulsed his fingers inside me, palming over my clit as he slid in and out, again and again. The swell of warmth in me grew as I rocked my hips.

He pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving me disappointed and empty. I looked at him as he examined the juices coating him. He smiled at me and raised them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Mmm. You're so sweet." He said as he lowered them, his voice now deeper and slightly raspy.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, then did mine. He pushed the bag off my lap down to where my feet were and reached his arm around my waist, pulling me backwards, closer to him. He leaned me against him as one hand travelled up from my waist and wrapped around my throat. His other came down, pulled up my skirt and parted my thighs. He pushed my panties to the side once again and introduced his other hand to my wetness. His two fingers sliding in and out, but this time a little faster and much deeper. I let a yelp escape my mouth and his hand squeezed harder around my throat. His hot breath in the crook of my neck gave me goosebumps and sent chills down my spine.  

He explored my walls entirely, hitting all the right spots, hot pleasure pulsing through my muscles as they clenched around his talented digits. He palmed my clit applying a gentle amount of pressure and rubbing in circles. I bit my lip in an attempt muffle my moans.

"Nuh uh. Let me hear you, baby girl." He taunted in my ear.

Two fingers from the hand around my throat pulled my mouth open and played with my tongue.  

"You got something to say, princess?" He pushed his fingers deeper into me until his knuckles stopped him from going any further and pumped them, his thumb circling my clit in sweet slow motions. A loud moan escaped my throat and he smiled evilly.

"That's better." He snarled as he put his full hand back around my throat.  

My legs started to stiffen and I felt my climax build as I tightened around his fingers.

"You wanna cum, baby?"  

He worked his fingers inside my walls and his thumb on my clit, slightly increasing the pressure. His breath came closer to my ear and I felt him take it gently in his teeth. I yelped at the shock of his bite.  

"Mm. So cute."

I rocked my hips against his hand. My release was close, it just needed a little push.

"Cum for me, princess. Cum on my fingers."

As if on his command, the dam burst and my climax washed over me. My legs shook and I moaned as I rode it out. He pulled his fingers out of me slid them in my mouth so I could taste my own juices.

“See, gorgeous. I can play nice.” He buried his face in my hair and took in my scent. He hummed to himself and I felt his grip on my throat tighten. He pulled me forwards and pushed me towards the back seat.

“My turn.” He grinned as he sat up.

I climbed into the back, closely followed by Jerome. I sat down and he straddled me, towering over me with his red hair brushing against the car ceiling. I saw the outline of his hard member pushing against the inside of his trousers. It was right in front of my face and my mouth watered for it. I suppose he caught me looking because he started to palm himself and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.

“Do you have something sweet for me?” He leaned down closer to me, his grip on my face tightening.

I swallowed and felt the lump in my throat. He crashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was hard and forceful, just like he was. His tongue pushed into my mouth and fought for dominance over mine. It was an easy win for him. He tasted sweet, like the Jolly Ranchers. I assumed that wasn’t the first candy he’d eaten that day. He pulled away from me and smiled, studying my face with hooded eyes.

“Yummy.” He whispered.  

He rose back up and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from out of its loops, held it in front of him and snapped it quickly. I flinched at the loud sound of the leather.

“Hands.” He ordered in a serious, intimidating tone that aroused me all the more.

I held my hands up to him and he looped the belt in and around my wrists, tightly bonding them together.

“No hands for this. I wanna see how that pretty little mouth works.” He smirked lifting my chin again, tugging my bottom lip with his thumb.

He palmed himself a little more and then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. I could see through his boxers that he was fully erect already. He slid them down and they joined his trousers. Jerome was big. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to take it all, especially without the use of my hands. He balled my hair in his hand and gripped hard. I gasped at the sudden pain.

“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He pulled me forwards and plunged into my open mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure.

He raked his free hand through my loose hair before clenching it in his fist. He used his grip on my head to move me up and down his shaft, prompting me to start. I swirled my tongue around him and started sucking. He hissed again through gritted teeth and pushed in further. My tongue climbed up and down his shaft, licking the sticky coating of precum from him and teasing the head. I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed up and down, letting my saliva cover him.

“Oh, yeah... Fuck, pretty girl.” He groaned in his throat and bucked his hips forwards with force.

He hit the back of my throat and I gagged. The noise seemed to please him so he did it again and again and again. My lips touched his base as he assaulted my throat, gripping tighter on my hair with each thrust. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face and eyes begging for breath, but it just pushed him further.

He let out a primal growl and pushed my head right into the back of the seat. He held me steady and started to thrust into my face fast and hard. My throat was aching and my jaw was locking. His breath was shallow and erratic. I could tell he was close. I sucked harder for him and my throat clenched tightly.  

“Fuuuuck...” He groaned finally coming to a stop.  

I felt him throb and twitch in my mouth as his climax shot straight down my throat for me to swallow. He was still for a few seconds, then he pulled out with a pleasing pop. He looked down at me catching his breath with a smile.

“Don’t have to tell you twice, huh?” He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me.

He didn’t seem to care he’d just cum in my mouth and kissed just as rough as the first time. This time biting my lip as he pulled away. He slid his hand back up into my hair and balled it again.

“As great as that was princess, I’m still harder than Chinese algebra. So...” Jerome climbed off my lap and shoved me down onto my front.

“All fours.” He commanded.

I positioned myself on my knees and elbows, which was difficult considering my wrists were tied. I felt him roll my skirt up and part my legs. I swallowed. After having him go so rough on my mouth, I was nervous about how he was going to be with this.

“I gotta say, this is some view back here. Shame I don’t have a camera.” He said caressing my thighs.

He hooked his fingers under the band of my underwear and slid them down around my knees. I felt so exposed and my face started to heat up and turn red with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be this vulnerable for a criminal lunatic.

He started to rub my entrance with two fingers. Warmth welling in my core, any thoughts of reservation vanished from my mind. I felt a fast, harsh sting as he brought a hand down to spank me. I gasped at the smack and he stroked the spot where it landed, where there was sure to be a red handprint.  

“Now I really wish I had a camera.” He giggled darkly.  

I squirmed at his touch and tried to close my thighs, desperate for friction, but he kept them spread by sliding his knee between them.

“Oh no, gorgeous. I need you open wide.” He smirked.

I whimpered needily, wanting nothing more than to take him inside me.

“You want something, baby girl? Speak up.” He taunted evilly, sliding his fingers along my slit. He raised his hand back up and then... another spank.

All I could do was whimper. I didn’t want to say what I wanted from him.

“I can’t hear you....” He sing-songed. “What do you want?”  

He circled a finger over my clit teasingly. He was purposefully not giving me enough. Just baiting me. He brought his hand down again for another swift spank. I was sure there was a bruise forming.

“I want you...” I whispered.

“What’s that?” He mocked, sliding his fingers in the slickness of my entrance.

“I want you! I want you to fuck me!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I just needed him.

He chuckled menacingly.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me?”

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!”

He laughed at my neediness. I felt pathetic.

“Sure thing, doll.”

He lined himself up so he could enter me and pushed forwards, grasping hard onto my hips. I moaned loudly as he filled me for the first time, making a low, throaty groan. He reached deep into me and set me on fire in places that I didn't even know were there.  

He kept a quick rough pace, digging his fingertips into my flesh tighter to keep me still and steady. I knew he was leaving marks, but I couldn’t have cared in the slightest in that moment. His thrusts made me whine and whimper for him, to have more of him. He growled like he was letting out some kind of inner beast.

He let go of one of my hips and slid his hand up my back and into my hair. Once he had a good fistful, he pulled it like a leash, tugging my head up and back. I gasped at the sharp pain, but the sound only seemed to feed more into his sadistic wanting and he pounded harder into me. The feel of how deep he was inside me banished all the pain and replaced it with pure pleasure and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle wanton cries. I felt another rough tug on my hair.

“Don’t you dare, little girl. Let me hear it. I wanna hear everything.” He demanded through short, quick breaths.

He pulled back on my hair again and I released a squeal of half pain and half pure elation. I could feel myself tightening around him. I was getting ready to burst.

“I... I’m...I’m gonna...” I panted.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t.”  

He gripped the back of my scalp and pulled me backwards, slamming me down onto my back and climbing on top of me.

“I wanna see it this time.”

He had acted so fast, I barely had time to register what he was doing and he was back inside me almost as soon as he had pulled out.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing, his teeth leaving delicious hickeys and bitemarks. When he came back up for breath, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed my bonded arms above my head, which I was grateful for as they were getting squashed between us. He crashed his lips onto mine for a rough kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth, which I gladly allowed.

With his other hand he caressed and stroked his hand down my thigh and under my calf. He then pulled it up and pushed it back so far it almost reached my shoulder. He adjusted himself to straddle my lower thigh and picked up a faster, harder pace. With my leg like this he was able to plunge deeper. He was forceful and powerful and I relished in every thrust. I cried out completely taken by my lust for him, closing my eyes to savour it all. I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek and flashed them back open.

“Right here, princess. Eyes right here.” He said, his voice low and raspy.  

His pupils were completely dilated, leaving only the thinnest ring of green around them. He seemed to be an apex predator that was in the midst of ravaging its prey and I was only too willing to be led to the slaughter.  

“Exciting enough for ya, sweetheart?” He smirked with a fiendish giggle.

“Uh huh...” I nodded dazedly.  

His laugh continued through the onslaught of fierce, deep thrusts pounding intensely into my lower regions. I tensed around his pulsing erection as I felt my climax creep back up on me. I let out loud erotic moans, as he built up more and more of that blissful warmth in my core.

“That’s right. Cum for me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on my throat.

His pounding got faster and rougher, hitting my sweet spots exactly right. I was right on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a fantastic release. I got louder and louder as I came closer and teetered the brink.

“Yeah.. I... I’m.. Yeah... I’m gonna...”

“Go on, princess. Cum. Cum for me.”  

My orgasm shattered through me like a rock through glass. My body convulsed as my moans turned into lustful screams. The ferocity of it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The sheer ecstasy took me higher than I’d ever been before. I was on a cloud and I could have stayed there forever. Jerome followed shortly after, growling like a beast as he exploded inside me. He collapsed breathlessly on top of me as I gently floated down from that little piece of heaven.  

“Oh, baby girl. I’m keeping you!” Jerome dropped a kiss on my lips and lifted himself up.  

I came to my senses and started to register the severity of what I had done. Or had it happened to me?  

“What does that mean?” I asked, nervous of his answer.  

He pulled up his underwear and trousers and tidied himself up, even taking time to straighten his tie.

“It means, baby doll, that this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship.”  

He laughed his signature maniacal cackle and hopped back in the driver's seat.

“Hey! Are you gonna untie me?” I called to him starting to get very worried.

“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like you like that.” He laughed.

He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.  

“Hold on, doll!” He cackled again, before speeding off again.

What have I gotten myself into?

[jaskierswolf]

The Love We Have

Part 1/5 - AO3 - Next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen... only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None?? Maybe... I'll add them later if I remember any.

(Written as a prompt that got way out of hand for @dani-dandelino and beta'd by @professorjaskier)

____

The path up the mountain was steep, treacherous and fucking cold. Jaskier felt himself slipping on the loose rocks underfoot. He yelped, ready to meet his maker but Geralt’s strong arms wrapped around his waist before he could hit the floor. It was all very reminiscent of a lover’s embrace.

One could only dream.

Geralt had been particularly stoic on the trek up The Killer, barely responding to even direct questions and grunting orders when they set up camp for the night, but there was none of their usual banter. Unfortunately, Jaskier’s fingers had been too frozen to pluck at his lute, leaving a deafening silence between them. To top it off Geralt was now glaring at him from across the campfire.

Jaskier sighed, stuffing his hands under his armpits, pulling his hood closer around his ears. “Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes widened as he seemed to finally register their surroundings, and he let out a low hum.

“Have- have I done something wrong?”

The crease between Geralt’s brows deepened, his jaws clenching. “No.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, scoffing haughtily. “Oh sure. Sure. So that’s why you’re acting all…” Jaskier trailed off, gesturing at Geralt’s direction with a flick of his wrist.

“Hmm.”

“Oh no. No, no, no. We are not doing this!” Jaskier tried to put his hands on his hips but the motion let a biting cold breeze into the thick woollen travelling coat that Geralt had insisted he buy for the journey to Kaer Morhen. “You’ve been grumpier than usual and honestly, I wasn’t sure that was possible. What’s going on, Geralt?”

Geralt let out a long heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wore a weary expression that Jaskier thought was utterly adorable; not that he would ever tell Geralt that. He’d learnt the hard way how much a witcher’s punch to the gut could hurt. Instead, he rested his chin on his knees and pouted at his friend. “Come on, Geralt, you invited me here. No pretending that we aren’t friends anymore.”

Geralt smiled faintly at that and then sighed once more. “I haven’t been honest with you.”

“About us being friends?” Jaskier laughed “I stopped caring about that years ago. Your actions speak louder than words, my dear.”

“Jaskier!”

Jaskier’s mouth snapped shut. He was barely able to conceal his gleeful smirk. This felt like coming home after the stone-cold silences of the last few days. It almost warmed the chill in his bones; almost. It would take a veritable miracle at this stage to fend off the frost bite.

“Done?” Geralt growled and Jaskier nodded. Pressing his lips together. “We have an old tradition at Kaer Morhen, ever since…” Geralt trailed off with a growl. “It’s to protect us, our home.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrow, tongue flicking out to lick his lip, a habit he’d picked up to prevent himself from interrupting Geralt. His witcher often took longer to find the right words, and Jaskier had learnt it was better to be patient.

“Only significant others are allowed.”

Jaskier blinked and Geralt’s words hung heavy in the air.

“I’m. I’m sorry, what?” he gaped.

Significant other?

“You heard me, bard.”

Jaskier let out a nervous laugh, wringing his hands in his lap. “But. but we’re. we’re not?”

Oh, if only they were.

“I know that.”

“Then why?!” Jaskier wasn’t proud of the way his voice squeaked, jumping two octaves.

“I. I trust you.”

Jaskier scoffed. After nearly a decade of friendship he sincerely hoped that the witcher trusted him. He had been absolutely delighted when Geralt had extended the invitation to his elusive home in the mountains. He hated leaving Geralt over winter, the cold making his dorms at Oxenfurt seem even lonelier… but to pretend they were dating?

It was a little too close to the truth for comfort.

He was surprised Geralt had asked him at all. The witcher rarely admitted they were friends. Jaskier couldn’t imagine he’d be particularly thrilled about pretending to be lovers, and he had a brilliant imagination!

Unless, of course, Jaskier had gotten the wrong end of the stick. He could be jumping to conclusions. Geralt probably hadn’t meant for them to pretend to be lovers at all. It was just a pre-warning that Jaskier might not be entirely welcome until he earned the other witcher’s trust. They were breaking the rules. That was it.

“So…” he trailed off, not knowing how to voice his question. Geralt, helpfully grunted in response. Jaskier rolled his eyes and tried again. “Are you nervous about breaking the rules?”

Geralt frowned, that adorable little crease on his forehead deepening and Jaskier yearned to smooth it out with a press of his thumb, but alas the witcher remained grumpy and unobtainable. “They won’t know,” he huffed.

If Jaskier had been eating or drinking at that moment, then he certainly would have choked on it or spat it out all over the floor in his shock. As it was, he almost fell off the log he was perching on. “I’m sorry?”

“They’ll make assumptions. We won’t correct them.”

Jaskier was sure that his jaw would never leave the floor. “We. we won’t?”

“No.”

“Alrighty…”

An awkward silence fell over the camp. The crackling of the fire suddenly sounded louder than any tavern in Oxenfurt. Jaskier could hear every breath like a hurricane blowing through the camp, the howling of distant wolves clawing down his spine. What felt like hours was probably only seconds when the silence became too much to bear.

“Oh ho ho, no. No, no, no. No. I’m sorry. What the fuck, Geralt?”

Geralt sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I should have asked sooner.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking of me?” Jaskier peered suspiciously at the witcher, wringing his hands in his lap and flexing his fingers. He desperately wanted his lute, his notebook… something, anything.

“Just don’t correct them?”

Jaskier snorted. “Just don’t correct them?” he asked incredulously “Oh sure, it’s that simple. Geralt, my dear, you’re asking me to pretend I’m in love with you.”

Jaskier barely managed to conceal his flinch.

Pretend.

Hah!

If only it were that simple. He was a pretty decent actor, most graduates of Oxenfurt were, but to act like he was only pretending to be in love with Geralt? That would be perhaps his toughest role to date.

And it would fucking hurt. Especially since Geralt hadn’t seemed to have realised he would have to do the same.

“Fuck.”

Jaskier tilted his head at the witcher, brushing his fringe from his eyes, his hand shivering from the cold. The penny had apparently dropped; finally.

He smirked, “Well, I was thinking we’d only have to kiss but if you insist?”

Geralt growled and pushed him onto the floor.

____

That night had been a particularly awkward one. The biting cold meant that Jaskier had to curl up into Geralt’s side to prevent himself from freezing to death. Geralt would normally wrap his arms around Jaskier in his sleep, making it more comfortable for both of them. But when he woke Geralt was lying rigid next to him; only staying as close as absolutely necessary and nothing more.

They ate their breakfast in silence, with even Jaskier’s normal chatter and noise absent. Jaskier was starting to get really sick of silences but he knew that Geralt needed a chance to process. The witcher would only blow up in his face if he said something now. It was a struggle for both of them. Jaskier was always desperate to fill the silence. He never enjoyed being left alone with his own thoughts and chattering about everything and nothing helped to calm the anxiety inducing void, and yet he knew that Geralt sometimes needed time. He would normally be scribbling away in his notebook, or carving patterns into the dirt with his boots, anything to keep busy, keep moving. Instead, he tapped out silent lute fingerings on his leg beneath the cloak and chewed on his lip, only stopping when he tasted the sharp tang of blood.

It was only after they had packed up camp and been walking for a few minutes that Geralt finally spoke, seemingly calmed by Roach’s reins in his hand.

“We should plan.”

Jaskier, still shivering under his cloak, snorted; a cloud swirling in front of his face like he was some kind of draconid. “Plan?”

“Hmm.”

“Pray tell me, dear witcher, what are we planning?”

Geralt grunted, gesturing between them, a trace of a blush on his cheeks which utterly delighted Jaskier. The blush meant that Geralt could only mean one thing, and Jaskier was having a ball!

His grumpy, allergic to feelings, witcher wanted to plan how they were going to convince a keep full of witchers that they were not only dating but seriously involved. Geralt wanted to talk about it. That was a first. Perhaps the witcher was treating this like just another contract to prepare for. That thought made Jaskier’s heart clench in his chest.

Just another contract.

Fuck.

He plastered a bright smile on his face before Geralt could notice his inner turmoil and clapped his friend on the back. “What’s there to plan?” he asked cheerfully, voice full of fake camaraderie. “We’re pretending to be in love, should be easy! I’m a bard, a troubadour, a graduate of the famed Oxenfurt academy!”

“Jaskier, shut up.”

Jaskier gaped and shoved Geralt in the chest. “You wanted to talk, Geralt!”

“We need boundaries.”

Jaskier’s heart sank and his smile faltered. “Right, yes, of course. I was. I was joking, last night, when I said…”

“I know.”

“We probably will have to kiss though.” he mumbled, his cheeks were a blazing fire and he probably resembled a tomato. Hopefully Geralt would just think he was cold, which he really really was. Honestly, he was starting to think that he might never be warm again. What was heat anyway? He swallowed, digging his nails into his palm. “Maybe just on the cheek. Think your family will buy that?” Geralt shook his head. “Well… bollocks.”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier looked up at him with a sheepish smile. Geralt actually had the decency to look apologetic for the mess he’d gotten them into. “It’ll be just enough to convince them, nothing more.”

Nothing more. Of course it was nothing more. These were the boundaries that Geralt was talking about. He didn’t want Jaskier to think it was anything more than an act. Well, message received loud and clear! He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He should be ecstatic, finally a chance to kiss Geralt… but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what he wanted.

It wasn’t real.

Geralt grunted, his own hands were buried in Roach’s mane as they walked side by side up the perilous mountain. He paused suddenly and began fussing with Roach’s saddlebags. Jaskier wrapped his arms around himself, shuffling from one foot to another to keep moving. He had to keep moving or he might freeze to death. He could already feel his toes going numb and the perpetual stinging in his fingers. Oh he was definitely getting frostbite. He watched Geralt for a few moments. The witcher’s shoulders were tense and his jaw was clenched. Jaskier sighed and placed a hand on Geralt’s arm, enjoying the soft warmth that radiated from the witcher, letting it seep into his frozen bones.

“Do. Do you want to practice?”

“What?”

“Kissing,” Jaskier said with a flick of his wrist. “You want boundaries, so let’s practice. That way we’ll know what we’re comfortable with”

“You want to kiss me?” Geralt asked, brow furrowed and arms crossed in front of his chest.

Jaskier scoffed at Geralt’s emotionally constipated antics. He was nearly at his limit with stupid witchers and he hadn’t even reached Kaer Morhen yet. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

Jaskier poked Geralt in the chest. “You suggested it!” he pointed out “and I’m never going to refuse the opportunity to kiss such a gorgeous person. You, dear witcher, are no exception!” He hoped that Geralt would be fooled by his nonchalant flirting. He did this all the time in taverns and courts all around the Continent and Geralt had witnessed it on many occasions. This was just what Jaskier did, nothing out of the ordinary… nothing to worry about.

He swallowed, a bubble of fear rising up in his chest and he couldn’t calm his racing heart. Oh gods, this was really far too close to the truth.

Geralt just gave a hum but let go of Roach’s reins. He gripped Jaskier’s shoulder and cocked his head, giving Jaskier the fondest of smiles. “Last chance to back out, bard.”

Jaskier grinned, raising his chin. He had a stubborn streak that would serve him well here. He never could say no to a challenge. “Just kiss me, you coward.”

A lie. Geralt was no coward. If anyone were it would be Jaskier. He couldn’t even tell Geralt the true depth of his feelings. They were concealed in songs for the whole Continent to hear but he couldn’t tell the one person that really ought to know. It was pathetic, pining over his best friend for years and years instead of moving on or just… admitting the truth?

Luckily Jaskier’s joke seemed to break the tension between them. Geralt hummed and cupped his cheek with more tenderness than he’d expected. Chapped lips pressed against his, warm and gentle as Geralt’s thumb stroked his cheek, calloused fingers brushing against the stubble that was beginning to prickle up through his skin. Jaskier wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He yearned to cup the nape of Geralt’s neck, to pull his lover closer and never let go. In a more passionate affair, his hands would land on his partner’s arse, squeezing cheekily as the kiss deepened.

Jaskier wanted to cry. It was all so sweet, so perfect, and none of it was real. This was his fate. Like a character in one of his ballads, a flower doomed to wither away without the heart of his beloved.

But this was Geralt.

This was his friend.

He settled for holding onto Geralt’s waist, his fingers digging into the wool of Geralt’s cloak. The kiss was over all too soon, leaving his head spinning. He felt breathless, like all his soul had been poured into the kiss. He pulled back from Geralt’s embrace in a hopeless attempt to calm his beating heart, but it was too late. The damage was done. With a single kiss Geralt had ruined Jaskier for all other love. Before it had been pitiful yearning but now…

Gods…

He was utterly done for.

His fingers itched for his quill. Oh, the poems and ballads he could pull from just a single kiss. A buttercup crushed under the paws of a great wolf as he roamed through the forests. Okay, that one might be a tad obvious. He preferred to at least try and hide in plain sight.

A dandelion perhaps?

Geralt would never need to know that Jaskier had almost chosen a different flower as his namesake.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier blinked and looked up at Geralt. Normally Jaskier was able to pick up the most minute changes in Geralt’s expression and his eyes were usually an open book. The witcher’s face gave away nothing and it was bloody infuriating.

“That…. that went well?” he stammered, pulling at a loose thread in his cloak.

“Hmm. We’ll be fine,” Geralt turned from him, looking more and more like the Butcher of Blaviken of old, and less like Jaskier’s darling White Wolf. “It’s not long now. We should get going.”

And get going they did.

[dreamersdivine]

Tears for another day

Word count: 1.5 k

Warnings: abandonment, crying, cursing, fem!reader, dog hybrid! reader, angtsy, objectification, 

pt. 2

You stood in the corner with your arms crossed. Your tail swished behind you unimpressed. Your eyes were trained on the 3 strangers that had broken into your cottage. You slammed the front door announcing your presence. The trio jumped. “Who,” you growled. “Are you?” The smaller brunette gulped looking back at the other two. The masked one put one hand in the air and slowly reached into his bag. “Stop moving,” you snapped at him, ears twitching anxiously. Suddenly he threw a bone out and at your feet. You glanced down at the item before looking back up. You started howling with laughter. The three men looked at each other uncomfortable as you slammed your fist on the table. You were laughing so hard, tears began streaming down your cheeks. “You- you,” you struggled to get some breaths. After finally calming down to soft giggles you tried again. 

“You thought that just because I’m wolf hybrid that throwing a bone at me would tame me like those other knuckleheads?” 

You smirked looking between them for an answer. “Look, we just wanted to see who was building on our land,” the masked blonde said. You frowned at that and stomped closer. “Now wait just a minute, this is not your land,” you pushed the dark-haired male out of the way. The brunette cried out a name worried “Sapnap,” suddenly there was a hand in your hair just behind your fuzzy ears. Before you could complain the fingers started scratching. 

“Hey you- oh…that’s-” you leaned more into the touch.

"That's the spot, a little lower,“ the fingers moved slightly and your tail started thumping against the ground. "Fuck, that’s it,” you sighed, content noises following. After a minute they stopped. You blinked confused. “Wha? Why’d you stop?” you stared up at the one they called Sapnap. He just blinked down at you before looking at the blonde. 

“Can we keep her?” He asked before gasping. 

“Oh my God Dreammmm we always talked about getting a puppy. Can we keep her? Can we? Can we?” Sapnap dropped to his knees and held his hands up pleading. “I don't- Sapnap stop it,” Dream backed away a bit. Sapnap kept approaching him causing Dream to go back further. You crossed your arms watching again, this time feeling more at ease. The brunette came to stand by you. 

“What’s your name?” 

“(Y/n),” you answered watching Sapnap almost snatch Dream’s mask off. 

“You?” 

“George,” 

Dream had finally had enough. “Fine, fine,” Dream shouted, he lifted his mask up. His hard green gaze falling upon you. “You coming with mutt?” He asked irritated. You looked around before shrugging. “Sure whatever,” his shoulder slumped. “That- it was that easy?” He asked confused. You skipped around grabbing a few things. “Sure, might as well go on new adventures, nothing to do here,” 

When you had first met everything was amazing. You had many adventures with them. Battling witches in the swamps with Dream, stealing blaze rods from the nether with Sapnap, and running from the iron golem with George. At the end of the day however you were with your boys. They were all you needed. That was before everything started getting complicated.

Dream had been fiddling with something for the past 10 minutes. You could smell whatever it was, leather and copper. What a weird combination. However you were more concentrated on Sapnap, he was playing a new game with you. If you could guess what he was holding in his hand behind his back you could have it. “Honey,” you finally answered. You had been amusing him by pretending to be thinking. Sapnap groaned before handing you the crystal bottle of syrupy liquid. “She’s just going to keep winning ” George chided him, sharping some arrows. 

“Eh,” Sapnap rolled his eyes and waved a hand of dismissal at him. 

“I’ll win one of these days,” he responded. 

“(Y/n). Here,” you heard Dream call. You slowly wandered over, his tone had been sharp. You sat by him hoping you hadn’t done anything wrong. “Yes, dream?” now that you were closer you could see what he had been messing with. It was a beautiful collar. Your eyes narrowed at him for a moment. “It’s just to remind those strangers that you are with us. I wouldn’t want them to mess with you,” Dream said softly. You thought for a second. It might have seemed simple to him but a collar was a big deal. It was the ultimate sign of loyalty and it tied you to them. 

“You do realize what this means right?” you asked unsurely. 

Dream nodded, smiling. That smile always reassured you, put comfort in your soul. You lifted up your hair and let Dream click it around your neck. His finger trailed over it lightly, his eyes never leaving the jewelry he placed on your neck. His glittering green eyes looked into yours excitedly. “You’re officially one of us pup,” Sapnap called your name waving a stick in the air. You stood and shifted into a large black and white wolf. Bounding toward Sapnap you attempted to grab the stick from him. George and Dream laughed watching the two of you play tug.

You didn’t think much of these strangers, Dream always said they were dangerous and not to be trusted. It wasn’t until weeks later that you ran across one. You had been picking some berries from a bush far from the community home. Something caught your scent causing you to almost drop the basket of fruit. A fox. They were known for stealing berries and you wouldn’t allow that to happen to your crops. Slowly you crept towards the edge of the hill you were on. Looking down there was a fox hybrid and another man who was blonde, they were deep in conversation, the fox frowning. You couldn’t help the low growl that rumbling in your throat. 

Suddenly a cool metal pressed against the back of your neck. Slowly you turned, heart pounding. There was a man with a beanie holding a sword to your throat. His eyes trailed down to the collar. “Property of Dream, Sapnap, and George, back off,” he read aloud before laughing a bit. His brown eyes glanced over your ears and tail before nodding slowly. “Didn’t know they had a guard dog,” he mocked you. “Wilbur,” someone shouted causing him to jump. There was Dream himself with an arrow pointed at Wilbur’s heart. “Step away,” he warned. Wilbur just smiled holding both hands up in defeat. You quickly scampered to Dream’s side.

You were completely loyal to him. You were too far deep into the manipulation to realize you were stuck in his sticky webs. And Dream just kept giving gifts to you. First the collar, then flower, snacks, toys, jewelry, if you named it, it was yours. You had been through it all with Dream and the others but when it came to moments like right now you couldn’t quite recall why you stayed. Dream had taken two discs that were vital to Tommy of L’manberg. You followed him through his secret base. 

“Dream he’s just a kid,” you pleaded. 

Dream just shook his head getting tired of your whining. “They are the enemy,” he pointed out. “Yeah but there are other things you could do other than threatening their lives over 2 measly discs,” You tried again. Dream stopped walking and turned around, you faltered in your steps. “I think you need a reminder of who the ‘alpha’ is around here,” he said, finger quoting at you. 

You stared at him confused, suddenly the blonde looked more menacing than before. “D-dream?” You stuttered. The next few seconds were a blur. Dream had snapped your wrists into a handcuff behind her and a muzzle on your face. “Dream,” you cried out after the retreating blonde. Tears had started streaming down your cheeks, the muzzle making it hard to speak. “Dream please! What did I do? Dream!” You yelled struggling. Your voice just echoed in the darkness reminding you that you were all alone. It was hours before he returned to your shivering form. Your tail tucked between her legs, you felt pathetic. Dream undid the muzzle. 

“Remember,” he gripped your jaw harshly forcing you to look at him. 

“What I say goes,” you just nodded furiously, pressing your head against his thigh. A gentle hand reached down and ran his fingers through your hair, petting softly. Sapnap was the first to notice the difference. You no longer wanted to play, you were always on Dream’s beck and call. Sit, stay, quiet. Every command followed without hesitation. And to say Sapnap was worried was an understatement.

Eventually, Dream one day grew bored of you. He reached over and unclasped the collar, dropping it into the dirt. 

“D-dream?” 

“I don’t need you. Never fucking did,” he said walking away leaving you in the chilly winter afternoon. 

You were frozen staring at the collar on the ground. It felt as if someone had taken a bullet to your heart. Had you done something wrong? You thought you had done a good job. The cold wind made it feel like you were standing there for days. Someone bent down picked up the collar.

“Homeless now sweetcheeks?” 

Slowly your eyes drifted up to an unfamiliar ram hybrid. Your tail laid limp behind you. He puffed out some smoke from his cigar as he studied the collar. “Come with me sweetheart,” he smirked tossing it over his shoulder. He tapped some ash off of his cigar. 

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” You numbly let the hybrid lead you to an unfamiliar place. “I’ll make sure you have a warm bed sugartits, for a small price of course,"

[enhalovebot]

moonlight ੈ☪⋆｡

➻ yang jungwon x reader (gender neutral)

➻ fluff

➸ ˗ˏ ➶ [☁️]. ✧ ˚

⤷ over the course of your relationship, you never thought you’d love the nicknames that came with it. no matter how cheesy they can get.

Never would you have thought that you’d end up with Jungwon. The boy was so reserved and quiet when you first met him that you didn’t notice just how cheeky and playful he could be. At first, it wasn’t noticeable at all, but after some time, it gradually became very apparent. It started with something simple.

Bubs. 

It was a lazy afternoon, and the rest of the boys were out, claiming you both deserved some quality time. Either that was the reason, or maybe Jungwon might have shoved all of them out the door. We will never know. But you’re just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.  

“Hey, bubs? Can I lie down there?” Jungwon pointed at your lap. He didn’t notice the nickname. It just slipped out. But judging by your reaction, he may use it a couple of times until you're ready to blow up from the heat flowing in your cheeks. 

“Yeah, s-sure.” You adjusted from your previous position, allowing him to lie his head on your lap. The moment his soft hair made contact with your pajamas, you knew you were doomed. Jungwon made himself comfortable on your pajama-clad thighs, enjoying the feeling of being loved as he is. 

“We should do this more often, bubs.” There it was again. It was a simple nickname, yet it brings so many emotions you can’t control. “I agree,” you replied as you carded your fingers through his soft hair.

Babe. 

It has been a while since you’ve seen Jungwon since both of you have different schedules, and finding time together is starting to get a little bit difficult. And now, for the first time in months, you finally found the time to visit the boys. 

“y/n’s here! Make way losers!” Ni-ki excitedly pushed the door open to let you inside. Sunoo pulled you in by the arms in an attempt to hug you but was quickly interrupted by Jungwon, who whisked you away from the other boy’s arms. And the next thing you knew was the smell of familiar cologne. 

His cologne. 

“That’s not fair. You always hog y/n all to yourself when they visit.” Jake called Jungwon out from the couch, while the others only smirked in return. It was obvious the boy missed you. He missed you so much that he didn’t mind the countless teases thrown at him. 

Whatever, Jungwon thought. He’ll deal with them later. 

“I missed you so much, babe.”

There folks, is an arrow straight to the heart.

Darling.

You stood on the pavement waiting for Jungwon to meet you at the bus stop. He initially planned out a date, but it seems like he’s running late. Tirelessly, you sat down on the metal seats, moving your feet back and forth. Sounds of vehicles passing by kept you occupied as you waited for him. 

You were expecting to wait for another ten minutes for Jungwon. However, sounds of aggressive panting came your way, followed by frantic footsteps. You glanced up to search for the source of the noise, and lo and behold, there he was. His hair was a mess, strands all over the place. His navy blue sweatshirt was ruffled and disheveled. And his shoelaces came loose by his furious running. And to top it all of, his flushed face matched his flustered state.

“I’m here, present.” Jungwon bent down, putting his hands on his knees, taking in massive inhales as he caught his breath. 

“What happened to you?” You patted his back. 

“Just took care of something.The guys were chasing me, kept asking me where I was going on a Saturday.” Jungwon met eyes with you, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.

“Glad to see you made it out alive.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” He slyly wrapped his strong arms around your waist as he emphasized the word ‘this.’ “Let’s get going, yeah?”

Cheeks. 

“Hey, y/n?” Jungwon’s booming voice resonated from your doorway, feet planted on the floor in a stiff stance. You hummed, not looking up from your laptop. “Hmm?”

“Can you do the thing?” Jungwon drags his feet on the ground, shoulders slumped. “Do what?” Your eyes connected with his. There was a pregnant pause in the air as he carefully chose his following words.

Jungwon fiddled with his shirt, wringing the material in nervousness. He didn’t know what’s happening to him. His heart was going crazy. “You know..” He shifts from his weight on his heel. “Can you do the thing?”

Your eyebrows arched in confusion before it finally clicked.

Oh. The thing. 

A smile slowly formed on your face as you stared at Jungwon, who was now sitting on your bed.  He leaned in, eyes sparkling in admiration. “There it is. There’s the thing.”

“You feel better now?” You raised a hand to brush away the strands from his eyes.

“Yeah. Thank you, cheeks.” He suddenly stood up, racing out the door. But he made sure to give your cheek an affectionate squish before exiting the room.

Honey. 

“Jungwon, have you seen my blan-” You paused, cutting yourself off as you saw Jungwon wrapped up in your favorite blanket on your bed. “Nevermind, I found it.”

Jungwon rolled on his side to face you with his face squished on the mattress. He looked adorable. “Sorry. It’s so soft I couldn’t help myself.” He paused and looked up at you in realization. Jungwon slowly raises the blanket, “Wanna share?” 

A chuckle left your lips, shaking your head at his cheekiness. Jungwon happily invited you in his warm embrace once you started getting comfortable in his arms. “This is nice,” you yawned. 

“Right? I could get used to this.” Jungwon hugged you even tighter.

Your breathing evened out as time passed by, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon. “Sleep well, honey.”

Buttercup.

You were laid down in the middle of the living room, bored out of your mind. “This is so boring.” You said, dragging out your words. 

Jungwon, who was sitting down on the sofa, judged you in your current state, his eyes full of judgment as he looked you up and down. He didn’t mean to do it, he just loves seeing you react with just his eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You snapped at him.

“Like what?” He grabbed the remote, switching to different channels as he did so, searching for something good to watch. Jungwon doesn’t meet your eyes, though he feels like burning from your gaze.

“Look at me, Won,” you sat up, arms folded over your chest. 

Jungwon mindlessly allowed his eyes to meet yours. “What?”

“See? Stop looking at me like that.” You pointed out the way his eyes stared at you with so much judgment.   

Jungwon laughed upon seeing how you reacted to his staring. “You’re cute, buttercup.”

Angel. 

Sounds of sheets shuffling emitted from your phone speakers, “Why aren’t you asleep yet, angel?” Jungwon placed his phone on his bedside to see your face better. 

You released an exasperated sigh, “I got a lot of work to do.”

“You can continue doing it tomorrow. You need your rest.” Jungwon insisted on the other side of the screen. 

“But I can finish it tonight if I stay up a little longer,” you took a glance at your screen to see, Jungwon already looking at you with a stern gaze. 

“Go to sleep, angel. It’s past two am already.” He reasoned with you once more. 

You bit your lip as you contemplated the consequences. If you get to sleep now, then maybe you’ll have more time to do your task. Then, on the other hand, if you don’t go to sleep now, you’ll have to face headaches the next morning. And for sure, you also have to face the never-ending speech Jungwon prepared for you.

“Fine, I’ll go to sleep.” You settled your things away, cleaning your desk of the mess you created. 

“Goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Won.”

Love.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Love, you’re being a dramatic mess right now. It's just a cold.” Jungwon placed his hands on his hips as he stared you down from six feet away.

“You’re gonna get sick if you come any closer.” You dramatically swatted your arms in the air. 

Jungwon howled in laughter, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. He loves you so much, honestly. 

“Nothing will happen to me, love. Put some faith in me.” Jungwon ignored your protests as he brought himself closer to you, not stopping until he was face to face with you. 

Heat came rushing to your cheeks when you noticed him come closer to you. So, you lifted the sheet up to your face, hiding from the boy in front of you. 

A teasing chuckle slipped from his lips. Jungwon slightly tilted his head to the side. “Hm? Why are you hiding from me?” His hand came up to gently tug the soft material off from your face. 

You mustered a weak reply to save yourself from embarrassment. “No... I’m sick.” Your voice muffled under the blanket.

“Don’t get all shy with me now.” Jungwon grinned at your actions. All he got in reply was a slight nudge, indicating you said ‘no.’

Feeling his lips on yours left you speechless because it wasn’t really a kiss. But it had the same impact. The things Jungwon does to you.

Again, he shakes his head while giggling like a fool. Jungwon tipped his forehead on yours, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, which was covered by the sheet. “Get better soon, love.”

Starlight.

Music blared from the studio, booming like there was no tomorrow. Noises of shoes squeaking against the floorboard kept you going. But mostly, it was because of the boy dancing in the middle of the room. He had a smile painted on his lips, his eyes full of love, and his hands were reaching out to you.

“Come dance with me!” Jungwon ran to you, his hands holding yours as he spun you around. 

You laughed at his antics. There was no other place you'd want to be. Being here with him was enough. Maybe more than enough. The both of you continued jumping around the room, not counting it as dancing anymore.

The song soon goes somewhat quiet, building up to the beat drop. Jungwon drew closer to you, preparing for the right time for the bass to drop. You stared back at him, confused as to why he also went quiet.

“Baby, you’re my starlight,” he perfectly timed his actions to the beat. And as the beat drops, Jungwon tugs you closer, giving you a light peck on the nose. Then, the sudden urge to get him flustered washed over you. “I think you missed,” you pointed to your lips.

Jungwon chuckles at this, but nonetheless, he still pulled you in for another kiss. This time on the lips.

Moonlight.

It was late. 

Like, really late. But that didn’t stop Jungwon from dragging you out to the night. “Isn’t this fun?” Jungwon spoke with a mouthful of noodles in his mouth, making his cheeks look even more adorable than it was before.

“Chew your food, love,” you patted the stains away from his cheeks. Jungwon’s heart almost leaps out of his chest from how beautiful you looked under the convenience store lights. Simple is a word he associated with you. He loves the simplicity looming around you, reminding him that he is human too.

Both of you were in some 24-hour convenience store, spending your extremely early morning together. “Want some?” You pushed a plate of sandwiches. Jungwon shook his head, instead, he picked up a napkin and proceeded to dab away at the stain you didn’t notice you had. 

“You got a little something…” Jungwon’s voice faded into a soft whisper as he concentrated on wiping away the mess on your chin.

“And... Done!” He threw the tissue, shooting it straight in the bin. You continued to stare at him while Jungwon went back to eating his meal. He didn’t notice you until he peered back at you from the corner of his eye.

“What?” Jungwon asked, unknowingly tilting his head a bit to the side. 

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

“What is it?” Jungwon scooted his chair closer to yours.

“I’m just glad I met you.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. So, you fixed your gaze on the table in front of you while you fidgeted with your long sleeves.

There was a profound silence.  

“I’m glad I met you too, moonlight.” 

You almost flinched at his voice, seeming that it was so quiet before he spoke up. But something felt new.

“Moonlight?” You questioned. 

Jungwon nodded, “You make me want to give you my heart, y/n.” 

“Well then, you’re my moonlight, too.” Your hand traced the dimples slowly revealing themselves as Jungwon smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world. 

They call me moonlight, too. Jungwon smiled at the thought. 

all rights reserved © enhalovebot

[bts-trash-blog]

Please:BTS Wolf Pack Au

Summary:Per-heat nesting, heats, rutts, marks oh my

Pariring: Werewolf BTS OT7(Yoongi centered) x Werewolf Reader

Warning: A very-Very-smutty segment of my previous Wolf Pack Poly Au, Three Words ,Devil Book and Pre-Heat.

An: Finally posting this, and I was like Halloween is a good time for some freaking werewolf smut lmao. Happy Halloween my freaks.

Fire.

It felt like fire was burning you from the inside out, your hands gripping the fur under you as you let out sobs. The tears burning your cheeks, as you hear Yoongi let out a comforting chirp. His hands rubbing up and down your cafe as you felt the uncomfortable sticky feeling between your thighs. You couldn’t help the whimper passing your lips as your body curled slightly away from him making him let out a soft breath as he moved closer and rested your legs over his lap turning your onto your back. Your breathing was brought to pants as your hands stopped his that was on your knee making his black eyes snap to yours.

“Alpha.” You cried out, making Yoongi rush on top of you, his body resting over yours as his head nuzzles into your neck making you relax. The fire soothes for a second as his nose up and down the column of your neck. His hands kneading at the flesh of your hips as you let out a soft purr like sound, your hands moving to wrap around his shoulders as one of his hands moves down to rest against your thigh.

“Omega.” He growled, making you let out a loud whimper as you pushed and pulled at the shirt he was wearing, making him let out a soft laugh as he lifted off you and stripped himself down. His naked body pressed against your own, you had stripped an hour ago when the heat wave began and the sound of Yoongi choking had you laughing and your Omega letting out whines and gaspe for him though you and you omega knew your body wasn’t ready before. But now, now it was. “I’ve got you.” Yoongi mumbled his hands rubbing up and down your fiery skin as you let out whimpers.

“Please..need you.” You whined, your hand grabbing his arm pulling him on top of you as your lips pressed to his, making him let out a growl as one of your legs wrapped around the back of his thigh. He let out a loud growl as his shaft slipped past your wet slips as the tip pressed against your swollen clit. The feeling had you letting out a soft scream, pushing past your lips onto his as he looked at you and took a deep breath in. “Alpha please please please. Omega wants, omega needs.” Your words had him growling as he pressed open mouthed kiss to your lips then trailed down your neck, his tongue slipping down to your collarbone making you jutt your hips. The feeling of his shaft moving as his tip hit your clit again and again as you moved your hips had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your chest lifting off of the furs below you. Whimpers and whines leaving your lips as Yoongi's lips finally met your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple as his cock stopped moving against you and instead it was his abdomen making you let out a whine as your hand wrapped around his hair and pulled.

“Fuck. Gonna breed you.” He growled lifting off of you and roughly flipping your onto your stomach, the movement making your grunt as he growled again. Your hand reaching for Namjoons scarf, once in your grasp you felt his cock shift and move against your heat as you let out a whine.

“Please want your pups. Please.” Your words had him let out a shutter of breath, and it seems even his body shook slightly at your words as he grabbed your hips and lifted them off of the mattress. Pressing himself to your backside as his legs spread yours out further arpat, making your chest sink deep against the furs. Your breast rubbing against the making you let out another sensitive whine.

“Yeah? Want my pup? Want to make our pack grow? Hmm Omega want our pups? Imagine how round you’d be.” His words were met with your whine as your hand reached back and hit his thigh wanting him to get one with it. “Huh? What do you want?” He teased making you let out a sob as you hand hit his thigh once again, his fingers grabbing your hand and placing it on your back.

“Fuck me. Put your fucking cock inside of me!” At that you felt his tip prob at your entrance as he finally slammed into you full, making your eyes roll back as you howled left your lips. Drool building at the corner of your mouth as he stilled for a second, a deep gruttled moan passing his lips as he held onto your arms that were against your back, as he pulled almost all the way out, his hips then slammed back into you making your hand wrap tighter around Namjoons scarf as you felt your Omega front.

“Fuck. Namjoon was right your fucking pussy is built for us. Fuck all I can is imagine you and Namjoon fucking while I shove my cock down your throat.” His words were met with thrust after thrust, the feeling of the burning of your heatwave leaving and being met with a feeling of satisfaction. “Kookie would love the feeling of your pussy after both Namjoon and I took you. I know he does when we take Jimin or Jin. He loves it even when we’ve filled Taehyung and Hosek. Fuck I can imgin Hosek and I takeing you omega, filling you up perfectly.” His words had you let out panting breath as drools started to slip past your lips as you let out a whimper. “Gonna knot you.”

“Yes fuck yes, knot omega, please.” You begged, the tears in your eyes falling  as his hips started snapping again and again. Deeper and deeper. You could seem to catch your breath as you felt the stinging sensation at your core as your toes curled. A silent scream passed your lips as your orgasm shook your body as you felt a stretch. One you understood, unlike the first time with Namjoon, yet it was unfamiliar as it was Yoongi. But it was so satisfying.

“Such a good Omega, my good omega.” He mumbled in your ear, lips trailing his ear and down his neck, as he kept thrusting softly as his knot grew. His hips moving long and deep as his lips trailed your neck. The feeling of Yoongi canines brushing pasted Namjoons mark and then the right of it as you hear his deep breath. “Gonna mark you.” As he slowed, no longer be able to pull out he rolled his hips as he let out a shutter, warm cum painting your wall as he growled and suddenly bit down on your shoulder making you whine as your hand moves to wrap around Yoongi's arm as his teeth are pressed into your neck,marking you as his. The feeling of him connecting himself to you had you let out a scream as you felt his cock swelling as his hand moved down to your clit, rubbing rapidly as another orgasm fell through your body as you let out a cry. “So good baby.” He mumbled making you nod, as you turn your head, his nose resting against your cheek as he licks at your skin. “I love you.” He whispered, his voice still deep filled with his Alpha tone at you whined as you opened your eyes to look at him. Tongue sticking out as he chuckled and wrapped his lips around the wet muscle, sucking slightly making you moan as he pulled back. His arms wrapping tightly around you as he rolled and nuzzled into your mark necked.

You don’t know how long you’ve been in the nest, days had been missed but heat wave after heat wave, Yoongi knotted and satificed you in the best way possible. Your body was shaking as you felt his chest against yours, his hips slamming into you as he pulled back and moved your legs folding you in half as he growled.

“Mark you?” You question making him pause  his thrust as he put your legs down and crawled over you. His lips pressing against yours as his hand moved and lightly wrapped around your neck. “Please?” He chuckled as you paused, slightly shrinking back, your omega believing his laughter was pointed at you, though the moment he noticed he cupped your cheeks and smiled.

“Go head baby, mark me. Then I'm gonna knot you again.” He growled the last part as he grabbed his cheeks kissing his cheeks, and down his neck as you felt his dick twitch inside of you as your teeth scraped against his skin making him shutter as you bit down. The taste of blood, and sweat made your eyes roll as you felt his knot swell making you whine as he let out a soft giggle. “Couldn’t help it, sweets.” He chuckled his head liffint as you watched the blood drip from your mark, thumb rubbing against it making him whine as he dropped his forehead against yours. “So good, love you so fucking mcuh.” You nod as your hand moved to wrap around him as you felt his hand wrap your legs around his waist. “Don't like knotting like this, I could hurt you.”

“Feel okay, like seeing your face…” You pause as you kiss his neck and huff, “Can Omegas come next wave?” He nodded into your neck, knowing he couldn;t say no even if he wanted to. Having all three of his omegas would make him feel even better.

“Of course. I’ll call them down when you're ready.”

The final wave was always the worst, it always was the longest one drawn out with him cumming yet no knot again and again. Though you knew what would help, make it end so you let out a whine as you gripped the fur under you and let out cry. “Want omegas. Pl-” A thrust had you choke as you heard him chuckle. “Please. Want Jimin and Jin.” Your words had him laughing harder as his hand reached for your hair and pulled you up against his chest. “Please.”

“Jimin Jin get you asses in here!” Yoongi yelled, the sound of thudding feet and the door opening head you letting out a loud whine as Yoongi grabbed you by your hair lifting you up as he thrusted up into you again and again. His other hand moving to rest around your waist, moving down to your cunt. Fingertips flicking at your swollen clit making you cry slightly out in pain.

“Fuck.” You hear Jimin mumble as Yoongi chuckled deepingly in your ear as his fingers started to speed up but they were quickly replaced with a soft tongue making you let out a silent scream as you looked down. Jin's eyes looked up at you as his tongue rolled against your clit, Jimins body was straddling over Jin as his lips wrapped around your nipple making you hand wrap around his hair. The feeling of warmth shattered your final hold on reality as you let out a loud yelp as your eyes closed and your body shook as Yoongi did a final thrust up into you before a warm cum shot up into you and his knot fully shoved itself into you. Yoongi growled at Jimin and Jin to move, making Jimin whine as he slid off of Jin and onto your side as Jin growled at the Alpha. His lips still wrapped around your clit making you shutter in slight pain as Yoongi growled.

“Get off of her Jin, now.” His words made Jin let out a whimper as Jimin pulled the older Omega away from you with a loud smack as Yoongi slowly moved you to rest against the fur that you had been nuzzing against for the past couple of days. “You’re okay baby, i’ve got you.”  You felt your leg being lifted to rest behind you on his hip as his hand rubbed up and down your side. The feeling of a soft tongue licking at you again made you whine as you looked down to see Jimin, his eyes were closed as he slowly kitten licked at where you and Yoongi were connected. Jin was now resting in front of you, his hand moving your face to look up at him as he smiles brightly at you.

“Did so good.” Jin mumbled his nose moving to nudge yours making you bite your lip as you felt warmth spread to your lower abdomen as you let out a whine. “Is our Jimin making you feel good?” His question was met with Jimins almost slurping as he suddenly started to suck at your swollen clit making you tighten your grip around Yoongi's hand. Yoongi's lips pressed against your neck, making you close your eyes as he squeezed your waist.

“Answer our Jin baby.” He growled making your eyes open as you nodded

“Yes.” You whimpered, your spare hand that was laced with Yoongis reached down and laced into Jimins brown hair. The feeling of the soft locks twirling between your fingers had Jimin letting out a groan as you tug. Your body jolted once more as another orgasm spasms through your body, Jimin softly kissing at your clit, and what you assume to be the base of Yoongi's knot as you felt him shutter after your orgasm had rushed through you.

“Good boys.” Yoongi mumbled as Jimins lips pressed against yours, making you smile brightly at him, then you felt the need to smell the rest of your mates.

“Tae..” You mumbled your hand reaching for the stuff wolf, making Jin reach over and and grab the wolf handing it to you making you let out a shutter of a chip as you bring the betas sent to you, Jin moving to grab Hoseks pillow as he lifts you head and places it gently onto the plush product.

“Better?”

“Much..cuddle?”

“Oh pup.” Jin mumbleds as his body moves to lay down Jimin resting at your legs bringing Jungkook's comforters over you slightly as Jins headrest into your chest as you let out soft purrs.

“Such a good pup.”

[huenjin]

shootout.

there’s nothing like a shootout that lets two partners bond the best.

pairing: bang chan x reader | detectives!au genre: action, romance word count: 5k words warnings: crime, blood, killings, language, implicit mention of sexual activity

part of the domestic disturbance series.

"Chan, look at this," you drag your fingers over the side of the muscle car, pointing out several holes, feeling the depression clearly. Your eyes slowly trail towards the fresh blood by the window and you gasp, "Bullet holes and blood."

The thin silence is broken by the scream that comes from inside the warehouse. Your eyes widen and Chan quickly whisper-yells at you, "Quick! Move!" You and Chan move towards the door after drawing your guns out. 

You press your ear closer to the door. Behind it, you can hear mumbling and clanking of metal. You mouth to Chan, "What the hell is going on in there?"

He places a finger over his lips and you nod. Chan crouches down and peeks through a crack in the door. You lean over and whisper, "What do you see?"

"Multiple people. Someone is lying down on his back in the middle of the room. The light is flickering and someone's standing over the man." He peeps further. "There's movement in the back too. Maybe one. No, there are two to three people behind."

Suddenly, in a flash, there's another howl of pain and you grip Chan's arms in surprise, moving closer to him. Chan turns to look at you, your face edging so close to him that he can see your eyes glistening and how sharp your nose is. He takes in a huge breath in surprise and closing his eyes, he informs you, "We're going in."

You stand back and Chan winds up, kicking in the door. Chan yells as he rushes forward, "Police! Freeze!" 

You look around at the makeshift operation room with a lot of medical equipment around. A shirtless man is lying on an operation table in the centre of the room and a man in a white doctor's coat who you presume to be Dr. Kim stands over him, prying a bullet wound from his shoulder. The two bulky men who stand behind have their guns aimed at you, narrowing their eyes. One of them has a scar over his face and the other over his neck, both fierce enough to scare you.

"What the hell is this? What the fuck is going on?" The doctor speaks up, looking at the two of you shifting his gaze from the patient to your guns.

"Put your guns down," the bulky man behind the doctor barks. "Now!"

The other bulky dude yells, "Do it!" You and Chan keep your guns pointed finely at the two said bodyguards behind.

The black build of the gun is heavy and it's awfully familiar. The walls are closing in on you and you take deep breaths in. It's the sound of the child screaming and bullets firing. Your pulse is rapid and hot against your skin. You feel the beads of sweat forming by your forehead.

Chan takes a step to your side, speaking, "Let's just take it easy. No one has to get hurt."

"I have a feeling that it won't be that easy, Detective," Dr. Kim informs Chan, his lips tugging to the right to form a smirk. "I'm afraid so."

Chan's shoulder bumps into yours and he looks at you for a second, nudging at you, "Are you alright? You don't look so well."

"I've been better," you smile nervously. The gun trembles in your hand and Chan looks at you, worried. He notices your shivers and your beads or perspiration by your forehead. He wants to protect you and he swears he'll do exactly that.

The shirtless man on the table moans and grunts, looking to the side to see you and Chan, before yelling, "You bastards. Do you know what my family," he groans, "will do to you?"

"Chan," you gasp, your grip on the gun getting harder. "That's Amanozako Susanoo. Ranking officer and scion of the Amanozako drug cartel. The same case that the NIS put me off."

"Ah, fuck," Chan shakes his head, disappointed. "You're now a mob doctor, Kim? Stitching up cartel foot soldiers? I hope you at least get paid well for this."

"We all have to make our living, Detective," Kim shrugs. "After that sham malpractice, I've struggled. Now if you'd let me, I'd like to operate here."

Chan glances at you uneasily, his tongue poking at his inner curve of the cheek. The bodyguards adjust their grip on their guns and the lightbulb that hangs over the table shifts in the wind, causing the knife in one of the bodyguards to glisten and hit your eyes. Dr. Kim slowly resumes examining Susanoo's wound.

"Back away, pigs, if you value your life," Susanoo seethes and you click your tongue.

"We just want to talk," Chan is firm and Susanoo flips the two of you his middle finger and swears, "On dore, ē konjō shi toru ya nai ke! I ain't talking to you both."

"Not you, Susanoo. We want to talk to Dr. Kim."

"Me? You want to talk to me?" Dr. Kim looks at the two of you, worried.

"They're playing you, doc. The minute you get outta the line of fire, they're going to haul me off. Kutabare! Keep working!"

Dr. Kim looks at the two of you and then the bodyguards before resuming the examination on the wound.

"Susanoo, just tell your men to put down their guns. We'll get you to the hospital," you suggest. He is furious, even more so after your suggestion.

"I ain't going to any hospital, yariman," he seethes in anger and Chan loads the gun in the heat of the moment, yelling back at Susanoo, "Call her that once more and this bullet flies straight into your skull."

You can only guess what Susanoo said, but it was safe to presume it is something offensive because Chan responds rudely enough for the bodyguards to step forward in defense. You yell, "Hey! Hey! Back off."

Everyone's yelling. Chan shifts and points his gun at Susanoo, seconding your voice, "Tell your men to back off, Susanoo or I swear to god, I'll put a hole in your head." There is commotion around when Susanoo yells back, "Oh, big talk, little man. You do that. And you and your girlfriend are next."

"Yeah, probably. But you'll be too dead to appreciate that," Chan bites back. Susanoo's face hardens and he continues, "Just let us take the doctor. That's all we ask."

"It's not going to happen," Dr. Kim refuses. "I'm not going to the prison again. Not when you even brought a former NIS agent with you this time round."

"Who said anything about the prison, doctor?" You ask. "We just want to talk to you about something." The doctor digs deeper into the wound to find the bullet. Susanoo screams in agony.

"It's about the Maskmaker?" He laughs. "You think I'm the Maskmaker?"

Susanoo chides in, "The dude that has been killing all those girls? Doc, is that you?"

"Oh, that's just ridiculous," he digs further for the bullet out from Susanoo's body as he screams again. "The idiocy of this city's police department has no bounds."

"So you'll answer all the questions we have for you?" You ask. Dr. Kim jerks the tweezer out of Susanoo's shoulder and drops the bullet into a tiny steel plate. The patient is screaming in agony and the doctor smiles, "There! That's the bullet. Anyone with even a little medical training can stitch you up from here."

"You're leaving?" Susanoo asks.

"Yeah," the doctor smiles. "I'm going to leave with them to get this absurd mess sorted."

"We'll take the doctor and leave," Chan informs. "You and your men can disperse by then."

Dr. Kim places the instruments carefully, the metal clinking and slowly tells, "I'm just going over to then slowly. You understand?"

"Yeah, doc. I understand," Susanoo smirks. "Understand this!" He yells. He whips his hand out from behind his back, pointing a chromed semi-automatic pistol right at you. You heave in a huge breath, your eyes widening and your grip on your gun faltering.

Chan sees red, like paint that spills over his vision. He has been seeing red from the minute Susanoo laid his filthy eyes on you and so Chan doesn't think much when he pulls the trigger.

The gunshot is as good as a hypodermic to the heart. It isn't simply loud, it cracks into the air and echoes around the walls, resonating and magnifying the feeling of our vulnerability. A bright red circle appears in the centre of Susanoo's forehead. His head snaps back and the blood splatters all over the table and over the doctor's white coat.

"No!" The doctor screams. Susanoo's body falls off the table and the doctor tries to hold it. He falls to the ground and you hurl yourself along with Chan behind a wooden cabinet in the commotion.

"Jesus! He killed the wakagashira," one of the bodyguards says, while the other screams, "Kill him. Kill him. Shoot him now."

Chaos follows. Both the bodyguards open fire, aiming at the cabinet and everywhere in the room, their shots whizzing audibly past you. You fire off one shot, miss and throw yourself forward, flipping over another operating table to use it as a cover. Chan looks at you, worried, yelling over the gunshots piercing through the air, "Are you alright, Y/N?"

"I'm fine," you raise your gun to show you were unscratched. Chan heaves out a sigh in relief, turning his focus back on the guards. You peek around the cover and see the two guards crouching behind the cover. Dr. Kim scampers away, retreating into the darkness.

"Get back here, Kim!" Chan aggravates. Upon hearing his sound, the guards fire again. The side of the cabinet bursts open, spraying Chan with wooden splinters and you wince. Chan pulls himself back luckily.

"You're a dead man," the guard screams. More bullets explode against the cabinet. One of them blows a huge chunk of it and Chan scrambles to stay behind cover. 

"I'm pinned down here," he hisses at you. You look at him worried, wondering how you could help and realise that you are staying covered under a steeled operation table. You tell him, "Get here when you can."

Suddenly, there's the sound of an engine revving in the back to the warehouse. Your knees straighten instinctively and you stand barely up, swearing, "Damn it! He's getting away!"

The guards see you and Chan groans, "Ah, Y/N," and he leaps forward, pulling you down with him, taking cover behind the operation table as the guards open fire again furiously. Chan falls on top of you and you wince in the impact. He quickly lifts himself up, his body weight supported on the hands that are pressed on the ground by either side of your face. He whispers, leaning closer towards you, "Let him go. We can't get him without risking ourselves, you idiot. Stay down!"

Outside, the car revs up and zooms away and your head falls to the side, disappointed, "He got away."

Chan supports his body weight on his left arm as he leans closer and brushes the hair away from your face, cupping your face with his right hand for a second or two. Your cheeks stain red and you hate that you're having a moment when you could be shot dead along with Chan. He presses a quick kiss on your forehead, his feel lingering for a long time before he sits up, "We'll get him the next time, okay?" And you nod, biting your lower lip and tugging at it nervously.

Caught up in the moment you just shared with Chan, you don't notice how quiet the room has gone. You nudge at him and mouth, "Listen, Chan." The room is eerily quiet and neither of the guards shoot.

"Are you two ready to surrender?" Chan asks.

There's no response. None at all. You can hear the soft padding footsteps and the sound of someone fumbling with a glass bottle. You smell rubbing alcohol and your eyes enlarge. There's the sound of the cloth crumpling and a lighter flicking.

"They are making a Molotov cocktail!"

"We have to shoot," you tell him. "Now!" Chan listens to you. He ducks low, under the bottom of an adjacent cabinet as he slowly crawls till there with you hot on his heels ("I'm not losing you now," you had said.) and Chan gets a clear view of the bodyguard's feet from here.

Chan's kind enough to give a heads up as he shouts, "Hey, you!" before firing off a shot. The bodyguard's shoe bursts open and he screams, falling down and dropping the Molotov cocktail on himself. He writhes on the floor, engulfed in bright red flame laced with blue trails and you press your lips at the site, looking away quickly.

"That leaves one." Chan walks ahead and looks around for the other person. Meanwhile, the other bodyguards loom eerily behind your back, covering your mouth tightly and pulling you back with him. Chan pops over the cabinet and sees no sign of the only remaining bodyguard.

Susanoo's bodyguard drags you to one corner away from Chan. You try breathing loudly but the man has his arms choking your passage and you begin coughing, only for the man to cover his hand over your mouth, the gun edging dangerously close to your face. Impulsively, you throw your head forward, hitting the gun and sending it sliding away after making a loud noise. You cough out loudly when he uncovers your mouth after swearing, "Bitch," and pulling out the knife that you had seen earlier in his pocket and holding it by your neck. It cuts through your skin lightly, blood dripping down slowly.

Chan's eyes embody what you identify as fear. It's the same look you had on the day Minhyuk fell down before you, bleeding after being shot. It is fear that changes to anger when the guard's head peers over your shoulder, breathing onto your skin, telling Chan, "She's a pretty one. A very pretty one. Too bad I can't have more fun with her before shooting her dead."

Chan's knuckles turn white as he grips on the gun tightly, lining up the shot. The man barks, "Put down your gun. Put down your gun, man, unless you want her dead!"

"Okay, okay," he raises his hand, slowly kneeling down. "Just let her go." He lowers his gun, the sound resonating the walls as it hits the ground and kicks it to the right.

"Good boy, good—" He takes his hand away from your neck for a split second but that is all you need to seize the opportunity. You grab his arm and jerk him down — his knife cutting your skin by the arm and the dermis opens painfully in the hassle — and elbow him brutally in the side of his head. The bodyguard drops to his knees, wobbles for a second and then falls over unconscious.

Chan rushes towards you, pulling your unharmed arm forward, your body falling into his hold as he hugs you tightly. His head snuggles into the curve of your neck as he holds you tightly, mumbling, "I was so scared if he'd kill you. I was so scared." His hand rests on the back of your head as he pulls you into him, your nose buried in his broad, warm chest. He places a kiss — a peck, a barely there contact of his lips — against your forehead as he pulls back to look at you properly. The blood from your forearm stains his shirt but he doesn't seem to mind, caught up in the overload of emotions he feels.

Your head is empty. The pain is still loud but it seems to be fine when Bang Chan hugs you so tight that he wishes he could do that always. You pull away from his grip and look around the place. 

"We just killed Amanozako Susanoo," Chan reaffirms. 

"Yes," you smile at him, your cheeks still heated up. "Yes, we did."

"Yes, sire," you respond politely, "Yes, I will have the full write up given to you by tomorrow. Goodbye, sire." And you hang up. Chan starts the car on ignition as soon as you are done with the call. You look to your left and through Chan's being, you see the police cars parked all around the warehouse, the red light illuminating in the late evening. Officers rush into the warehouse, swarming around the place.

"Hey, Y/N," he pauses. He rip out a piece of his shirt absent-mindedly and pulls you forward, trudging your being into the gear stick as he holds your injured arm up and ties the bleeding wound up, the cloth of his white shirt staining red slowly. "Are you alright?"

"A little shaken up," you smile. "And the slight scratches," Chan glares at you and you chuckle, insisting, "I'm fine."

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt," you mumble, relieved. Almost like you can take easy breaths now and the air is a lot less suffocating. "I am, oh my—"

"Hey, hey," Chan frowns. "But you got hurt."

"Meh," you shrug. He looks towards you and your hair is loose, barely keeping it up in that ponytail of yours after the entire commotion but you don't bother to tie it back up properly, letting huge strands of hair fall forwards as you look down at your knees, the jeans now ripped.

"Have you ever been in a shootout before?" Chan asks. 

"Of sorts," you mumble. "It didn't end well though. I was worried today would be a repeat show of that. Sorry for being a wreck in the beginning." 

You pull down the window of his car as he finally pressed on the gas, the car pulling forwards. The breeze pushes the strands of your hair behind and Chan holds his breath in moments like these. He wonders if it is possible for someone to look pretty even after a shootout with scratches and injuries on their body, but you pull it off so well that he thinks it's hot. He thinks it's hot enough that you took the big bulky man down but the way you were unfazed after that, that was sheer excellence in Chan's eyes and all he could do was gape at how beautiful you are. 

"Hey," Chan brings your attention back to him and away from the passing trees and the low noises of the sirens ringing the air. "Did the District Chief reprimand you or something?"

You laugh, "You're kidding, right? Amanozako Susanoo was a drug-runner and a rapist who we suspect of at least eighteen gangland murder. I might just get a medal for this."

"Find Dr. Kim and you might get two," Chan teases, his right hand on the gearstick and the other on the steering wheel, occasionally flashing you a smile or two as he drives.

"Chan," you frown. "I don't think he's our guy. I don't think he's our Maskmaker. The way he acted in there and the way he reacted to us? He didn't seem like it. He doesn't seem to me as someone with a deep psychosis."

Chan sighs, "I had a feeling you'd say that."

Chan's phone rings and the car audio rings along with it. He presses on a button on the steering wheel, putting Captain Han through the line. 

"Detective!"

"Cap!"

"Hey, Captain," you laugh over. Chan smiles and informs, "You're on speaker technically, Cap."

"About Dr. Kim," Captain Han starts.

"We don't think he did it, Cap," Chan cuts him off. He nervously chews on his bottom lip and looks at you. "We don't think Dr. Kim is our guy."

"What in the world?" 

"He doesn't seem like it," you explain further. "I know it might seem like he is the guy but we spoke to him, Captain. He doesn't seem like it."

"I don't want to hear it, the two of you," his voice is firm and authoritative. "Amanozako Susanoo is dead, Dr. Kim escaped and now you're telling me that he might not be the killer?"

"It's a working theory," Chan protests and you heave out a sigh in frustration.

"I appreciate that you're working on theories, Chan—" 

"Thanks," he sheepishly smiles. 

"But what facts do you have to support it? All the evidence points towards Dr. Kim being the Maskmaker. He even matches the profile Y/N made," Captain Han tells and your eyebrows rise at him calling you by your first name. 

"Ah, yes, but—" you trail.

"I don't want to hear it, Y/N," he says, frustrated. "Unless the two of you can back up your allegation, Dr. Kim remains as our prime suspect.

"Listen to me, Cap—"

"No, you listen to me. Because of you, we've got one cartel officer in the morgue, one in the burn ward and," Captain pauses. "Y/N resulted in the third one with a broken jaw." You click your tongue in annoyance.

"I did what I had to do," you blatantly say.

"It was a righteous shoot!" Chan whines and Jisung is quick to respond.

"I know and that is why you're not being suspended. Again. I pulled every string and cashed every favour I had with the Commissioner to let you two continue this case, or at least till we have Dr. Kim brought to justice."

"Thank you," Chan decides to choose his words wisely. "I appreciate it."

"I want the two of you back at the precinct to search for—"

"I can't, however, oblige with that request of yours, Cap," Chan cuts Namjoon's sentence and you're surprised at him refusing an order.

"Why, may I ask?"

"Y/N's injured. I'm not coming anywhere near the precinct till I have her taken care of," Chan responds in monotone and you look away, cheeks staining red. You also want to yell at Chan to stop treating you like some fragile doll but you won't deny that the care felt nice.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Captain's voice booms through the speaker, louder this time.

"I'll be fine, Captain. It's probably nothing and Chan is overreacting."

"You won't stop bleeding, so shut up."

"Uh, I'll leave you two to it." Captain Han's voice pipes in between your quarrel and you mumble, "Okay."

The Captain hangs up and you roll your eyes at Chan, "I'm not injured severely."

"You're injured nonetheless," his voice rises and he glares at you, pressing on the gas a little bit more. 

You mumble, incoherently, "I'm fine," and Chan chooses to ignore it, turning on the radio news.

Captain Han's voice booms through the speakers as he addresses a crowd of reporters, "Thank you for coming here today. As you already know, we have a break in the Maskmaker case. We now have a primary suspect: Dr. Kim Ilwoo. At the moment, Dr. Kim remains at large but we hope that the citizens of Seoul will cooperate in our attempts to bring him to justice…"

"Everyone — Every cop — is going to be behind Dr. Kim while the real Maskmaker is still at large."

"That's not good," you sigh and you notice Chan pulling into the parking lot of a residential complex.

"Yeah, it isn't," he says, unbuckling his seat belt after parking. He leans forward and hovers over your body, as you can feel his breath by your face, the cold essence of peppermint chewing gum fresh from his mouth. He unbuckles your seat belt for you and looking at you with his nose brushing past yours slightly, he says, "We're here."

This night is definitely going to be a recipe for a disaster. You know it.

Chan fumbles with his key, trying one after another from the bunch and you laugh, murmuring, "Should have divided them."

"Then, I'd lose them," he pointedly stares at you before finding the right one and opening the door. 

The room gives away his new bachelorhood, or the very least you presume he has had a recent breakup.

Everything is functional. The mantle is where he puts his keys and garage door opener. On the coffee table is a wrench set and a new set of wheels for a longboard. Under the small eating table is a pack of beer. You are guessing that the fridge-freezer holds meals for one and he has more clothes in his laundry basket than in his closet. He's not hopeless though, he clearly knows one end of a vacuum cleaner from the other. He's got modern looking prints of the wall and a small photo of his folks on a side table. You identify Jisung, Felix and Hyunjin from there. He's never decorated, that's for sure, but then who paints a rental place? You know you wouldn't.

He turns, smiling shyly, not a look you've seen on his face before. Spending time with Chan entitled you to see a lot of different shades in him. You can't help but smile back — he brought you to his place against the order of his captain just to take care of you. You are dead sure that this is enough to steer you from the loud thoughts screaming at you to not let history repeat again. But you're a fool. A fool for Bang Chan.

Your eyes linger uneasily on the cardboard boxes taped with elephant tape that is arranged carefully against the corners. Chan tells you to sit on his sofa. It's a pretty nice place for a detective of his ranking and you watch him move around in his house. He brings a bag full of content and pushes the table in front of the sofa to the side as he kneels before you.

In the dim lighting of his home, Chan looks beautiful. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. You guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they normally looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course, the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. 

This is a man you wanted to know more than you'd ever felt before. How could you ever hold back your soul from touching his?

Chan helps you out of your boots and you laugh, "I'm not handicapped, Chan," and shove his arms away, your chest vibrating and the walls echoing your laughter. 

He continues to help you out of your boots even after that, mumbling, "Let me help." And your hands stop midway as you watch how gently he takes them out and places them by your side. He sits by your side and drags the bag closer to him along with the tub of water and cloth. He unwraps the piece of cloth he had tied your injury with and throws it to the side. 

He winces visibly, "That's a deep cut," and rubs his forehead before muttering, "Ah, that bastard."

You don't say anything as you watch him. He uses his left hand to apply pressure on the cut, praying that the bleeding reduces. He dips the new white cloth into the water and cleans the area along with the help of a soap. You clench your teeth in the pain that hits you as he cleans the injury. He wipes the cloth over your neck too, edging his face closer to you as his left hand leaves your arm and grips your face to angle it. You are flustered and take steady breaths in, praying that he doesn't notice your heartbeat rising because of him.

He applies antibiotic ointment over it and covers the area with a sterile bandage, the two of you engulfed in nothing but the silence, your breathing and the sound of the fan rotating. He moves back and smiles to himself, "There, all done," and moves his gaze up at you only to find you staring at him already.

You had promised yourself to never repeat history again; to never fall in love with a fellow partner; to never like another man who swore to protect justice at all costs.

But promises are meant to be broken and as you gaze at Chan under his dim lights, his face so temptingly close to you, you are more than ready to break the promise you've made with yourself.

As you lean forward, your fingertips tracing his jawline, Chan knows and feels the same because he meets you halfway, his hands creeping behind your back by your waist and tugging you closer, your bodies touching and your lips on his, soft and testing waters initially. Chan pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours, angling your face to delve deeper into you. 

He has his lips against yours, nearly knocking you off all the wind in your lungs. You sigh into the kiss, find your hands in his hair, tugging at the roots and moving against his body, your legs stretching by either side of his body. His hand sprawls over your neck, his thumb caressing against your jugular before pressing into the neck, rubbing slow circles. He kisses the top of your lips, your hands tugging at his shirt. 

And the two of you move against each other as the night darkens, covering everything and the gasps and breathless sighs that take over the soft air in the room has nothing against the two of you — the two of you that hold each other in some sort of desperation for physical reassurance. For some sort of hope that the two of you diffuse into each other.

[echo-of-sounds]

cock and ball worship pt.2

Small smut drabbles of cock and ball worship with Toshinori, Hizashi, and Fatgum.

Don’t like/Don’t read: ball worship (obviously), rimming, and (slight) deepthroating

Yagi Toshinori

“All you need to do is stand here,” you hummed, kissing between Toshinori’s shoulder blades, then peeked past his arm to the mirror. Blue eyes focused on the bureau’s top. Red painted across his cheeks. It was cute. And concerning. “Hey, if you’re too nervous, we don’t have to.”

He met your eyes and smiled, relieving the worry. “I’ve never, um-” He cleared his throat, making your excitement skyrocket. But you hid your giant grin by kissing his arm while he retried, “I guess I am nervous. Noone’s ever done this to me before. ”

“It’ll be new, but it’ll feel good.” You rubbed his sides, snaking your hands to his front. The light blond trail tickled your fingers. “Do you still want to?”

“... Yes.”

“Lean on the bureau.” Toshi’s back tilted forward, pushing his ass out just a bit. Running your hands down his sides, feeling over his ribs and scars, then stroking his cheeks, fondling his delicate sacrum, you lowered to your knees. You nudged the inside of his thighs and advised, “Spread your legs a little, honey.”

Slowly and hesitantly, he did, exposing himself and giving you room to settle between them. You coddled the beating half-erection and began leisurely pumping him. The simple touch was enough for him to moan. A kiss to his balls made him buck into your hold, already grown stiff.

You pushed his leg out some more. It revealed all of him: tan, near hairless, and quivering. While you kept up the gentle pumping, your mouth fixated his balls, sucking on his left, loving the salted bitterness. It tried tensing up, ascending closer to his body, but your lips trapped it and refused to release. Weight increased behind it. Loose skin caught your teeth. All the flavors turned your salivary glands on, causing excess saliva to drivel down your chin.

Because of the lustful hissing and humping, you let go. Though you did it agonizingly lazy: firming your lips and drawing them off, grazing your teeth over the pocket, nipping the final bit, stretching it as far as it could go until it snapped back, arousing a groan and inflaming his erection to bob, dotting the drawers with precum.

Toshi groaned your name rather needily. You didn’t grant him a break, jacking him off and engulfing his right ball. It shifted around in your mouth. Your nose pressed against him. Drool leaked. Tinges of sharp salt grew. The palate burst when you popped him out and licked up his perineum to his rim.

“Oh!” he gasped, grinding backward. As legs spread, more opened to you, providing your tongue entry. He gasped deeper, ground harder, working himself all over you, letting his taste sink into you and your tongue to thrust into him.

Wanting to try something, you stopped jerking him off. He groaned from the loss but carried on while you solely used your mouth to pleasure him, seeing if he could orgasm from that alone. You moaned, feeling all his muscles tighten. Your nails dug into his thighs.

Desperate fingers held your head motionless. He humped your tongue, groaning aloud, clenching, wetly and lewdly from the overkill of saliva.

After the waves died, and his legs were about to give, he unlocked from your hair. You wiped your mouth and laughed at the drawers splattered with cum. You rubbed his back, kissed his blush-covered shoulder, and asked, “Did you like it?”

“Very much so,” Toshi croaked.

You brushed the hair sticking to his forehead away. “Then I’ll do it anytime you like.”

Yamada Hizashi

“Hizashi…” you sighed, placing your hands on his knees.

“In the mood?”

“Not for me.” You kneeled and grabbed the band of his sweatpants. He lifted his hips so you could pull them and his underwear off. Once freed, his thighs spread, and he flopped flimsily between them.

“Scoot forward,” you partially whined, settling on your knees. Hizashi didn’t question your needs. He just did as you said, shifting to the edge of the seat. Your mouth met him halfway, latching on, nursing the soft limpness. Since it was flaccid, you easily took all inside, able to touch your nose to his hair.

A hand rested on the back of your neck. His fingers rubbed in circles, stopping to grab there when your attention aimed at his glans. Your tongue gingerly stroked the small opening, careful of being too rough on his delicate skin. Salt trickled out. You fed off of what little spilled before suckling on his entire head, now cleared of foreskin, and waved your firm lips around his corona, adoring the immediate groans. Teasing there never failed to evoke them.

You took his hard length in, unable to taste all, then slipped him out, dripping saliva to the couch. Hizashi traced your lips with his thumb, lifting it to his mouth for a taste. He sang, “What’s got you all riled up?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged. You leaned closer and refilled your mouth, then your throat as you pushed yourself. You bobbed on him, winding your tongue around, slurping up any drops that ooze past your lips.

“Come here,” Hizashi grunt. You fussed, wanting him to stay where it was warm and wet. “Come on. Let me see your mouth.”

You slowly withdrew him. Fingers traced your sopping jaw. His thumb hooked and pulled down, holding it agape, letting saliva drip all over again while he repositioned. “Here you go, baby.”

With his thighs lounging wide, you had access to his balls. You latched on to one, breathing through your nose to smell the musk, snuggling up between his legs, cradling the other in your hand, frisking all around it. Your tongue pushed and prodded the sac, occasionally lapping under for the sour, over-salted flavor. A moan gushed out at the heat.

“God, you’re so fucking precious, sucking me off like this.”

His compliment fluttered your chest, intensifying your indulgence. You nestled as close as possible. And even with your cheeks turning sore, you continued supping, swallowing, and nipping. Your head lazed on his thigh as you fed. You tasted lower, pecking his perineum with your tongue. Spit flowed downward.

Hizashi bucked at the liquid. A blush tinted his cheeks. You stared directly into the eyes while he jerked himself off. He returned the gesture, gaping at you and your lips. Your teeth started clamping on the lax skin, feasting on the entire oval inside.

“Fuck!” he howled. “Fuck, you thirsty?”

You nodded.

“C’mere.” Hizashi directed you to draw him in, holding your head steady while he calmly yet hurriedly thrust into your mouth, forcing a gag every other insertion. Saliva and salt built until cum joined, stuffing your throat, leaving you wallowing in it as his grip knotted in your hair. Thighs went rigid. He praised through his orgasm, “Fuck- Just like that, baby. God, you- Fuck, just like that.”

Hearing you choke, he guided you off, and he flopped out, flimsy once again. You wiped your chin on his sweatpants. But instead of getting up, you cleaned him, licking the semen and spit away.

Hizashi patted your shoulder, breathless. “Thank you.”

Toyomitsu Taishiro

You blew raspberries on Taishiro’s stomach. He didn’t react in the slightest- not even a twitch of his lips. “Really?”

“I told you, I’m not ticklish.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled to yourself as you kissed his lower tummy, following the dark stretch marks down, passed the tuft of hair, to his penis. He rested flaccid, his foreskin practically screaming your name. Numerous veins raised the skin. They flattened under your tongue, pricking up after you washed by.

You supported him, watching his soft foreskin smooth over his glans when you tentatively moved it lower. The opening fit snug, unable to retract beyond his corona. You kissed the rim through the layer of thin skin and ran your tongue along it, feeling it shudder from the warmth.

“Use your tongue properly and lick inside, baby,” Tai hummed.

You answered with a moan, slipping into the tight opening, tasting the unseen skin. Salt sopped your tastebuds. It drizzled into the back of your throat, more and more the harder you sipped. He fattened in your hold. The middle swelled the plumpest, heaviest, followed by his glans flaring, producing thick precum. Moan thoughtlessly escaped.

“You like how I taste, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” His head poked your cheek, ballooning it out, causing a bit of drool to fall from your lips.

“That’s good, baby. I’m glad. Now, why don’t you take care of my balls for me?”

Your tongue withdrew, saturated in the tart taste. You tauntingly-yet-carefully stretched the loose skin between your teeth, unveiling the rim of his head. It was dark red, swollen, beating, and covered in saliva. Letting go, it was covered again. You kissed and sweetly sucked his tip. It drummed wonderfully against your palm and in your lips. Each pulse spurt just a little precum out for you to eat.

All of a sudden, amid your enjoyment, it was removed. Tai held himself, playfully noting, “You must really like how I taste.”

“I love it.” You kissed his balls next like he asked. The dusting of near-invisible hair didn’t bother you as you sucked one in, pumping with your mouth. It rolled with your tongue, bloated from arousal. The relaxed skin tightened around them. You wondered if he was close or if he was bigger than you remembered.

Not dwelling on it, you released with a nice pop, then repeated the affection on his other one. He grunted and humped with his hand. You nursed harder, almost biting, before popping that one out too.

“Keep doing that,” Tai groaned as he worked himself. A flush coated his face. His gaze locked onto yours. “Your mouth is perfect. You know how to use it so well.”

You whimpered around him. Saliva messed your jaw when you detached, sticking to both of you.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Just focus on me. I’m almost there.” The husk in his voice drove shivers down your back and made you press firmly to him. You lapped between his balls, switching from sucking to nipping to pulling to kissing, then finally back to licking, abusing the scrotal skin red and randy. You moaned with your tasting, taking in all the bitterness and musk, nurturing all the more scents to flourish.

He cursed repeatedly, running his hand up and down his length, jerking into his hold and your mouth. His balls tensed and rose. You kept drinking them in, humming while he groaned and praised, cumming onto his stomach in rich strands. Only when they lolled did you release, ending it in a charming kiss.

You crawled up to Tai and brushed his bangs back. You nuzzled against his cheek, kissing and whispering praises back to him.

[theleftovertaco]

Please

First official smut ig

Content warnings: pegging, sub!fred, explicit sexual content, implied fem!reader but not directly stated, PWP

If you are not of age please don’t read

You flopped down onto the couch in your shared apartment after Fred and George.

“Fuck. No fair, you both have longer legs!” You pouted minimally, but they both knew you were kidding.

“Sucks to suck, Y/N. Grow a couple inches and we’ll see where that gets you.” Fred smirked your way and you stuck your tongue out before pecking him on the lips.

George groaned and faked a gagging action. “No PDA guys, we talked about this.” You turned your head over to him.

“We’re not technically in public. Get fucked, Georgie.”

“Look who’s talking!” George fired back with a grin.

“Bold of you to assume that I’m the one who gets fucked in our relationship.” You stated him down as he gaped between you and Fred for a second before exiting the apartment as quickly as he could.

“Nope! I don’t shame but please keep everything you do with my brother to yourself! I’ve had too long of a day to deal with that! I’m tired, I’m going out, I’ll be back in an hour with Chinese food!” He called out as he shut the door.

“Thank Merlin.” Fred let his head fall back on the head of the couch. “I love my brother but it’s been ages since we had alone time.”

“Speaking of alone time”, you reached into your bag and took out a package, “This arrived for us today.” Fred’s breath hitched for a second before he managed to calm himself. 

You slowly took off the wrappings to mess with him as he whined a little bit, before dropping into a low moan once you finally revealed it’s contents.

In the box sat a strap on attachment. Blue, at least eight and a half inches and with a thick head. You leaned over and forced Fred's chin over so he was looking in your eyes.

“Go into our bedroom, take off your clothes. On the bed. Wait for me.” He nodded and scrambled up and off to your shared room. 

Fred was antsy and you knew it. You spent at least 5 minutes more than you needed to just waiting to go in there, taking time to clean the dildo.

When you did, Fred was sat in the middle of the bed on his knees. He whipped his head in your direction and whined again when he saw the attachment in your hand.

“Please, Y/N.”

“Please what, baby?”

“You know what.” Fred squirmed around impatiently and you clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“So impatient. I gotta hear you say it, baby boy.” 

He glared at you before his eyes softened and fluttered as you lightly rubbed your hand up his cock. 

“Please, for the love of Merlin, fuck me. I’ll do anything. Just want your cock.” Not even a few minutes in and he was panting already.

“Oh, baby, you don’t need to do anything. Tonight’s about you, love.” Fred whimpered as you dragged him down by the hair for a bruising kiss before shoving him onto the bed. 

He dug his hand around in the nightstand drawer closest to him and grabbed a bottle of lube before tossing it to you. You stroked him again and parted his thighs, kissing the inside of his right leg and sucking a bruise into it.

“Good boy, so cooperative.”

You drizzled some lube onto your fingers and gingerly pushed your index finger past the tight ring of muscle. Fred pushed down on the finger place you held his hips in place, as he wiggled in protest. 

“More.” He mumbled and you grabbed his hair to pull back and look at you.’

“What was that?”

“More, please.”

“Good boy.” You pushed a second finger in and began scissoring them apart as he moaned out and arched his back. Curling your fingers, he keened when you hit that bundle of nerves in him.

“FUCK!”

You chuckled softly. “So responsive.”

After what felt like eternity to Fred, you pulled your fingers out and attached the dildo to the harness on your waist. Fred lightly wrapped his lanky legs around your sides and held onto you as you slowly pushed the head into him.

“Fuck fuuuu-” he moaned as you pushed further into him, quieting as you bottomed out inside of him.

You stayed there for a second, allowing him to adjust to the dildo’s girth while he shifted around to try and relieve some of the pressure.

“Aren’t you going to move, I me- Ah!” He cried out as you pulled nearly out before slamming back in and starting a brutal, punishing pace.

Fred reached down to stroke his cock but let out a soft mewl as you slapped his hand away. “You better control yourself or else I won’t let you come tonight.” He let out a sob as you repeatedly slammed into his prostate. 

“I’m sorry, please let me come!” His breath hitched as you stopped, nearly pulled out again and letting the head catch on his hole. You let forth a few shallow thrusts.

“Please, Y/N, harder.” You snapped your hips forward to bury yourself deep inside him as he let out a sob. 

“Please, Y/N!” You smirked and let your hand close over his dick again. 

“Please, please please. Please, what, baby boy? Use your words, come on.”

He let out a cry before responding. “Please, let me come. I’ve been good.” You acted as though it was a tough decision before gripping him tighter and thrusting deeper.

“Go on, baby. Come whenever you’re ready.” Fred let out a howl as white ribbons painted his stomach. 

When he had finished, you let out a few shallow thrusts before pulling out as he groaned. You took off the attachment and went to go clean it off and grab a washcloth to clean up with. 

As you walked in, you were greeted with the pleasant sight of Fred laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as his chest rose and fell. 

“Here, let me clean you up.” You wiped him off and he tossed you a water bottle before grabbing one for himself and greedily drinking half of it, water spilling out the corners of his mouth. 

“You’re fantastic, you know that right?” Fred turned to you as you got into bed next to him and wrapped your arms around his sweaty figure. 

“I do now.” Fred grinned as he received a peck on the nose. 

“I love you, Y/N. So much.”

“I love you, too... shower?”

“Bath, please?” You would normally point out how unsanitary they could be, but that could wait. 

“GUYS, FOODS HERE!” Fred groaned and let his head fall onto your shoulder as George’s voice rang through the apartment

“Bath, then food?” Fred asked.

“Yup.”

[script-nef]

Confession in the moonlight | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

2.2k words; Hatsumoude date [6/6]

Happy New Year everyone!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

Bells and chatter are almost deafening even this late into the night. Families and friends are gathering here, mingling and pushing against each other in the narrow path leading up to the shrine. There are so many carts lined up on the sides, owners screaming their products and shouting over another.

And you're walking through the crowd with the one person who you want to avoid the most in the world.

Thanks to the event which is now dubbed "The Alcohol Incident That Can Never Happen Again", you learned about a couple of things in the following days.

First, alcohol is the enemy. This is ironclad and nothing will ever shift your opinion on it. Alcohol. Is. The. Enemy. None of it will ever touch your lips again.

Second, you discovered what type of a drunk you are. The clingy, bubbly one who has the misfortune of remembering practically everything that happened. Worst combination ever. Because your brain wants you to die from embarrassment. The only plus is that you don't feel like throwing up and you don't have headaches. Whatever Gojou fed you worked wonders. 

Just thinking his name makes you want to slam your head into a wall. 

Facing him again after that has proven to be a challenge. The memory of what happened on that day intrudes every time you see his face and then you have to take a break to calm down. Faking ignorance and acting as though you remember nothing from the night was your choice. Which was a bad choice since you’re not known for your acting skills and you also have the misfortune of wearing your heart on your sleeve. Which brings on the next problem.

Third, you… seem to have feelings for Gojou. The romantic kind. Like, the boyfriend-girlfriend kind. When you woke up the next day, it was probably the most clear your mind had been in months. Alcohol is a confusing drink. Still, you're never going to go near it again. Making a fool out of yourself once is enough.

Lastly, perhaps most importantly, you basically confessed to him. While drunk. And then went to sleep.

Sitting up in bed the morning after, hair everywhere and jacket still on, you did an analysis. 

It's like a typical light novel cliché. A guy and a girl, co-workers or something like that, comfortable with each other, hangs out all the time, one major event or couple of minor events happens, the girl falls in love with the guy or vice-versa, confession and then happy ending. 

It all kind of made sense with your new, alcohol-cleaned brain. The fluttering feelings, the spike in heart rate, the uncontrollable blushing and noticing physical contact more. There’s a reason why he’s so comfortable to be around, why you practically entrusted your life in his hands. And you literally said to him once, you think in the movie theatre, that he would make a good boyfriend. To his face. Who says that? Embarrassment turns into self loathing. It makes you wonder how you didn’t notice it last time.

With this new shocking revelation, you didn’t know what to do. Confess? If there is even the slightest bit of chance he doesn’t like you back and rejects you, life will be hell to live. Because you live in the same goddamn place, work together and all of your friends are his friends.

So two options. Three outcomes. One: you confess and he accepts and everything is fine. Ideal. Two: you confess and he rejects you and so you leave the place, never come back again and work in a farm halfway across the world by changing your identity. That sounded reasonable enough. Three: you don’t confess and somehow act naturally around him. This has problems because, again, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s still very tempting. More so than the second one. This is perhaps the most difficult decision you’ve made in your life.

So you turned to the one person you can vent this kind of thing on. Shouko. Who looked at you like you were either stupid or dense. Maybe both. Definitely both. It was quite amazing what she could express while moving the least amount of facial muscles. 

“So… yeah. I think I like Gojou and I don’t know which of the options I should take. Help me?” 

She just stared at you. With a deadpan face that has all the stress and exasperation in the world. You pride yourself in being able to read other’s faces quite easily. Rubbing her fingers over her eyes and groaning for a bit, she eventually took her phone out and dialled a number. The line rang for a bit.

“Ijichi? You owe me 10,000 yen.” Clicking off the phone even before hearing a response, Shouko turned her focus back to you. “You seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what? What was the phone call about?”

“That he likes you? That’s he’s insufferable because of that? You seriously don’t know?” She inched closer and closer until her face was right in front of yours. Shouko is seriously scary when she’s angry, like a sleeping lion. And you just somehow poked her. “Look at me in the eyes. You seriously never realised?”

“Um, what?”

“The dates. Remember when I couldn’t go to the movie for Howl because someone came in? I immediately gave it to him because I owed him a favour and he wanted to spend time with you. The time he went shopping with you by flying. Do you know why he offered that in the first place?”

“I mean, it was getting late… And I was in a bad mood so— oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Do you get it now?” 

“So then… the dinner, that was also…”

“A date.” Sighing, she sits back on the sofa, letting her head drop onto the backrest. Thoughts jumble inside your head, all of them slowly clicking into place.

“Wait, so. He likes me?”

Annoyed moans are her response as she thuds her head into the furniture. Something along the lines of “Why me.” could be heard.

“So him inviting me to hatsumoude today is also a date?” Her hand waves lazily in the air.

“Yes, it is. Tell me you accepted.” You nodded, then realised that she can’t see from her position.

“I did. I can’t really say no to him.” She makes a gagging sound.

“Good. Finally. So just confess to him then. He’ll accept, you’ll be happy, he’ll be happy, and we’ll all finally be free.”

“Free of what.”

“Your denseness.” She snaps, sitting back up. Fire burns in her irises. “It’s like the Chinese story, the one with the shield and the spear. You’re the shield, oblivious to every single one of his advances and he’s the spear, never giving up. And we’re the spectators who are bored and tired. So dress up in your prettiest clothes and go.”

And that’s why you’re walking up the steps to the shrine, swaddled in clothing. Gojou is right next to you, enjoying mochi he bought from somewhere and humming. He’s humming while you’re having one of the worst crises of your life. God, you envy his ability to keep cool. 

Making every effort to keep calm and not look move your head in his general direction, you finally arrive at the bell. The sound resonates clearly into the night. Coins clink into the offering box. Two bows, two claps, pray, one bow. Your wish is the same as always, with one more sentence. Gojou copies you, mochi finished and trash discarded.

The way down is much easier, your heart a little lighter. Maybe the rest of the night will be fine. 

This is a delusion and you realise it as soon as Gojou opens his mouth.

“What did you wish for?” His voice cuts through the commotion, nudging for your attention. You flinch a bit at the closeness but try to regain your composure. If he saw it, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I—I  wished for everyone I love to survive the fight with Sukuna and have a peaceful retirement. Especially Ken-chan.” In actuality, you did wish for that but also for a way to confess. He doesn’t need to know that yet. Your voice trembles a bit, betraying you. 

“You do know that saying it out loud negates the wish right?” There’s a delighted tone in his voice, like he’s happy he baited you. How is a person this childish? And what does that say about you, the person who likes him? A hand ruffles your head before you have a chance to lament your heart. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your wish comes true.” Your heart thumps.

It’s so unfair how he always knows what to say. It’s so unfair that it’s having this kind of effect on you. Your earlobes grow hot and you scramble to find a reply.

“What did you wish for then?” He shifts his head to look at you. “Yeah, I know. It won’t come true if you say it out loud, but if you can protect everyone and save the human race, I’m sure it's not up to the gods or spirits whether or not your wish comes true.”

He seems to contemplate it. Then nods. 

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not up to them.” 

“See? So what’s yo—”

“It’s up to you.”

You nearly trip over one of the stone tiles, flailing for balance. Of course Gojou comes to your rescue, hands gently gripping at your sides. The first problem here is that your reaction was too obvious. You can’t feign ignorance now, like you didn’t hear him over the crowd. The second is that you just made a fool of yourself. Which leads to the third problem. 

He is way too close. 

“You okay?” And now he’s whispering. The blushing worsens. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s a clearing in the forest a bit away, a smaller dilapidated shrine on the edge of it. A small pond is in the middle, fireflies skimming over the surface and glimmering beautifully. 

“There you go.” He guides you to the steps of the ruined shrine, letting you sit down but stays standing. Shifting on his feet, neck cracking as he rolls it. Nervous energy leaks out of him. Wait, is this— 

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve rehearsed this like, hundreds of times but my heart is kind of going crazy.” So is yours. He comes back to you then lowers himself to one knee. Your heart stops. “I’m not proposing. Not yet. I’ve heard dating comes first.”

One of your hands slots into his. He removes his blindfold, revealing his cerulean eyes to you for the second time. Breath hitches and he most definitely heard it because his smile, no matter how tentative it was, becomes full and true.

“Let’s get to the main point straight away. I like you.” The words burn you alive and you try to take your hand back but his grip is strong. So you do the next best thing. Averting your face. “I know you do too. I also know you remember the night. Your acting skills are terrible. And Shouko told me.” If you’re not drowning in mortification and something that feels vaguely like hope, you might hit him. And Shouko.

But the second you face him, you see him. The heart-gripping worry in his eyes, the way he’s smiling to cover for his anxiousness, the light trembling in his fingers. It’s so different to his normal self, the aloof and laid-back aura completely dissipated. This is what you do to him?

“I’m not good at this. But I mean every word when I say that you’re the kindest, cutest and the most loveable person that I’ve ever met. You put up with me, and that’s saying a lot.” Protest is at the tip of your tongue, ready to argue that he should stop being so hard on himself and that you genuinely like spending time with him, but he recognises the look on your face and laughs delightedly. “See? So ready to come to my defence, even if it’s me you have to fight. Everyone’s fed up with me to some extent, and I know you are as well, but you still put up with me. That’s what made me fall for you. That unlimited kindness.”

He presses a kiss to the palm of your hand and it feels like he’s giving you his heart at the same time. Love shines in his eyes and clogs at your throat. A shuddering breath passes over the both of you. But then the cheeky smile comes back.

“I think that’s enough to sweep you off your feet. Is your heart beating fast?” A nod. “Hands clammy?” A nod. “Think you can manage granting me my wish?”

A wave of calm washes over. Gojou’s words, filled with sincerity and bare hearted emotions, turn into butterflies that travel to every inch in your body. It’s delightful and there’s no way you can live without hearing it again.

The distance between your lips close, and you swear your heart synchronises with his when they finally touch. 

[kiirokero]

Sit and Heal (JJK) (Teaser)

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeongguk x Witch!Reader

Summary: “You have scars, Y/n, both on your heart and on your skin. The one on your arm may be healed, but the one on your heart isn’t. Please. Let me lick your wounds,” Or: The wolf that visits you every afternoon is your shoulder to lean on as you realize it's time to learn to love and trust again, even if it’s hard.

Word Goal: 10k+

Approximate Release Date: Beginning-Mid May

Note: If you wanna be tagged when Sit and Heal comes out, just comment or message me :) Also, I was literally so anxious to post this, I’m so worried people will think it’s trash :)

   “Go home. You have others waiting for you, don’t you?” You spoke, and the wolf turned back towards the forest, where the trees grew thicker and the brush became more unforgiving. Again, the wolf looked towards you for a second, before it ran into the thicket. Gone. Its presence seemingly no more than an apparition. You felt like you met a ghost.

“Goodbye...”

Meow

“No, Yume,”

Meow

“No, bub”

Meoooww

    “Yume, it’s raining. We can’t go outside,” You scold the cat who is currently eyeing you while you prepare supper for the night. You caught a chicken the other day, so you were happily making some chicken soup. Or you were trying to, if it wasn’t for the black cat who was currently whining his heart out next to you. “You’ll get snatched up by that wolf if you go out there,” You playfully threatened.

    Yume grumbled out an annoyed mew, already familiar with the wolf you met and had previously rambled to him about the exact day you met it. It’s been about 3 days since your first run-in with the chestnut-colored wolf, and everything's been relatively normal. You did your daily spell work, foraged until the days turned to night, checked your snares with hope in your heart.

And you never saw the wolf again.

But life goes on, and you’re hungry.

    Meow... You sighed, dejected, tired of explaining to the cat that it’s cold, wet, and dark outside. Not the best weather for outside time. Meow. You put the spoon that you were stirring the soup with down, turning to the black furball with your hands on your hips. “Alright, out,” You groaned, shooing the cat away from the kitchen towards the living room. “It’s warm here, your favorite kind of temperature. Just lay down until dinner, okay? I’ll even put more wood on the fire,”

   You did as you promised as Yume begrudgingly got on the couch, still boring his green eyes into the back of your head. You grabbed some wood from the stack that laid next to the brick fireplace and threw it in. You flicked your wrist causing sparks came flying out towards the wood. The flames revived energetically, painting the living room in a serene orange glow, illuminating both you and the black cat behind you.

   You dusted off your hands, turning around to give Yume a kiss on the forehead. “Maybe tonight we can do a tarot reading for the two of us, yeah?” You bargained, earning a content meow from the cat. You chuckled, scratching behind the familiar’s ear before you went back to the kitchen.

   The rain furiously beat against the windows of your small cottage; the wind howling as it whipped against the old wooden boards. The house creaked and groaned under the power of the storm, but you knew your protection charm wouldn’t allow anything to happen to the cottage. Luckily, there was no thunder booming or lighting running bright white cracks in the dark grey sky, it was just the rain and the wind.

  You were humming the tune of a folk song you remember your mother singing as you chopped up some carrots and plopped them in the soup, unaware of the cat that was currently sneaking towards a window. Yume jumped up on the windowsill, expertly avoiding the terracotta pot filled with different herbs and flowers. The window was unlatched. An error on your part, but a perfect stroke of luck for Yume.

   Yume bumped the window open, causing the shudders to catch in the wind and bang against the wall. You jumped, dropping the spoon into the pot, splashing the soup around the stove and onto you. You hissed at the feeling of hot soup on your cheekbone, but ultimately ignored it, turning off the stove and walking back out into the living room.

   An icy chill met your skin as you entered the room, causing your skin to rise with goose bumps. You shivered. The fire was now a low ember and the curtains furiously whipped around in the harsh wind, rain seeping in and dripping onto the floor. You groaned, realizing that you probably forgot to latch it. “Just my luck,” You sighed as you closed and latched the window, turning to go tend to the fire again.

   That’s when you stopped mid-step, swirling around to look at the couch, noticing a lack of a Yume. “Yume?” You called out into the quiet house. No answer. Yume was a cat. It wasn’t like he was going to say “Hello” back, but he would come if called. Nothing. “Yume!” You shouted, a bit more panicked. Again, no sign of the furball. Quickly, you rushed through the house, checking every room. You looked under your bed, behind the dresser, under blankets, everywhere. But there was no Yume.

   Anxiety seeped into your veins like viscous tar, clogging up your lungs and throat. “Y-Yume...?” You choked out, your mind and heart running a mile a minute. You felt tears well up in the corner of your eyes. They burned as they ran down your cheeks. You sat down on the couch, covering your face with your hands as you tried to calm your breathing. With each inhale you choked, coughing with trembling lips.

   “It’s okay, it’s okay. Yume probably went outside. He’s a smart cat, it’ll be okay,” You whispered to yourself in a shaky voice, taking in a few more gulps of air. You willed yourself up on trembling legs, stumbling over to the coat rack. “It’s okay,” You sighed out once more, throwing on your raincoat and boots, stepping outside into the ferocious storm.

   Wind licked the wet trails of your tears as rain battered against your body. Trees bent over to the will of the storm, looking ready to snap, as their leaves rustled together producing an eerie symphony that made your hair rise. The sky was void of any light from the stars or the moon, covered in a thick layer of intimidating grey clouds. “Yume!” You called out into the night, desperate to see any sign of the lean cat. Nothing again.

     You continued to call for Yume, walking deeper and deeper into the dense forest. It was getting darker the further you walked away from your cottage, making it hard to see the sharp stones and slick moss that covered the muddy forest ground. You reached into your pocket, fishing out the amulet that you always had on hand. It glowed. It didn’t give off light like a flame, but was enough to light your way.

    The amulet let out a soft green hue as you continued to call for your cat, voice progressively getting more desperate. “Yume! Please!” You shout with a trembling voice, the biting cold and gripping fear threatening to push you down to your knees.

Meow!

   You gasp, whipping around in a circle, trying to spot the source of the noise. You felt dizzy as you continued to turn, straining your eyes to peer through the thick trees and bushes. “Yume!” You yell again, continuing to turn in circles. “Yume! Please... Baby please,” You cry, bending to the will of your aching heart, falling to your knees. The wet, sloppy mud seeped through your pants. The rain splashing dirt on your face. But you couldn’t care less. “Yume...” You sniffled.

Meow

   Yume called back, his call sounding just in front of you. You looked up, expecting to see just your little black cat with his green eyes and soft fur, but what was actually in front of you threw you into a living nightmare. You froze, your heart dropping as you hyperventilated, lungs burning from the cold. You couldn’t move. Your eyes locked onto the scene in front of you, like a cruel form of torture.

There, Yume was hanging by his scruff, in the mouth of a giant wolf.

    “Yume!” You shrieked, finding your voice again. You reached out for the black cat, shying away when you registered that a wolf was right there. “Nonono, Yume, please...” You lamented, covering your mouth as sobs threatened to bubble their way out of your throat.

   But instead of the wolf dropping a dead carcass at your feet, it gently let Yume down, allowing the cat to run over to you and lick at your tears. You sniffled, reaching out a shaky hand to pull Yume towards you. You buried your face in Yume’s fur, letting out the sobs you were desperately holding in.

    Yume let you hold him in the chilling rain, licking your face to comfort you. “You’re okay... You’re okay,” You choked out, hiccuping on air. Mew... Yume spoke up, nudging his sopping wet head against your cheek, as if saying, “It’s okay. We’re okay” Even if in your brain you knew everything should be fine now, that you should stop crying and get back home, you couldn’t move. Your tired heart chained you in place like a rock sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

   It felt as if all the strength you were fiercely clinging onto while you wandered though the forest had slipped between your fingers like sand. You wanted to lay there in the mud and stay there until morning, but you knew you had to get yourself together. Yume was shivering, you were shivering, and it was dark. Yet you couldn’t move. You sheltered Yume inside your coat as you tried to pick up the scattered pieces of yourself, .

Whine...

   You lifted your head from where you buried it in the wet cat's fur, catching the eye of the wolf you’d forgotten all about. It looked at you with drooping ears and a bent head, like a scolded puppy. It whined again, lifting one of its paws like it was going to step forward, but opting not to, hesitating. “You found him,” You whispered out, voice scratchy from the sobs that had wracked through your throat.

   The wolf tilted his head in confusion. You would’ve too. Why are you talking to this animal like their Yume? Yume was special in a witchy way. He was your familiar. Like a loyal companion, but sassier. Yume was in tune with your emotions 9 times out of 10. Yume played around with you when you were happy, snuggled you when you were tired, and comforted you through times of panic and sadness. Yume understood you because he was made for you.

A wild wolf wasn’t

    Yet, that didn’t deter you as you continued to speak. “Thank you...” You sniffled. You took a closer look at the wolf, looking it up and down. The same golden chestnut fur, now soaked and illuminated in a hue of green from the amulet that currently laid in the mud. Despite the lack of light, its yellow eyes seemed to glow. “Ah, you’re that wolf that was stuck in my snare...” You said, and the wolf took your friendly tone as an invitation to get closer.

   Slowly, it approached you, ears and head still down to look less intimidating. You were too emotionally exhausted to be scared again. That, or you subconsciously trusted the wolf more than you thought. “You must be cold,” You commented, staring at the wolf saturated coat. The wolf nudged at your own soaked coat, as if saying, “You too,” and you softly chuckled. It nudged you again, this time on your side, trying to get you to stand up. You didn’t. You couldn’t find the energy too, but the wolf kept nudging.

   You gradually stood on trembling legs out of annoyance, tiring of the wolf’s persistence. You held Yume in your arms, still under your coat, as the wolf tugged at your dirty pant-leg. You took a step forward, and the wolf went on ahead until it realized you weren’t beside it. It jogged back, pulling on your pant-leg again. “You’re a weird one,” You mumbled out with a small smile, indulging the wolf by following it.

     The wolf led you through the rain and mud. Looking back occasionally to check if you were still there. You didn’t know where it was leading you, but the trees thinned out, meaning you were moving away from the thick parts of the forest that are easy to get lost in. The storm continued to beat down on the three of you, creating a thin veil-like fog that hindered your ability to see.

    But the wolf seemed unfazed as it continued to walk without fault, walking until an orange glow pierced through the fog. Your eyes widened when you realized it was your cottage. The wolf had led you back to your cottage. “Wha? How did you...?” You breathed out, looking down at the wolf who was now looking at you.

    The wolf was definitely odd. It seemed more aware than the average lupus, like it could hear and understand you. Like it knew what you needed. Strange, no doubt, but you were a witch, you experienced strange things all the time. Hell, the entire forest you lived in was renowned for being supernatural and “dangerous” as in, magical.

    Birds often brought you pretty stones and flowers, the squirrels liked to share their food with you, and the plant life seemed to come alive around you. Nothing in your life was “normal”, it was all strange. The wolf was probably like the birds and squirrels. A forest helper of sorts.

So with that rationalization, you left it be.

    You walked up to your porch, opening the front door and letting a wet Yume free in the house. You turned around, locking eyes with the wolf once again. It was a few yards away, sitting in your front garden, looking even more humongous next to your tiny daisies and tulips. It was waiting for you to go inside. “It’s cold...” You said, “And your wet...” The wolf tilted its head once again, unmoving. “I have towels... And a warm place to sleep until the morning,”

The wolf stayed seated.

“Come on,” You coaxed, patting your leg as an invitation for the wolf to move closer.

Slowly, the wolf stood up, trotting up to you and cautiously stepping into the house.

“It’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore,”

“Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean the scars don’t burn,”

Out Now! 

[august-anon]

Are You Still?

I got hyperfixated on It a couple months ago and now here we are lol, this has been in my fic backlog for a while now. Hope you enjoy this one!

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Fandom: It (movies)

Ship(s): Reddie

Characters (lee/ler): Switch!Richie/Switch!Eddie

Word Count: 3879 words

Summary: Richie finds himself in a position that brings up some of the few fond memories he has from Derry. He decides to relive some of them.

[ao3 link]

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Richie yelped as his legs and feet were suddenly shoved roughly off the couch, startling him out of his doze. He glared up at the offender and saw Eddie, already glaring back at him as he took a seat on the other end of Bill’s couch.

“What the fuck, man?” Richie asked, bringing one of his legs back up to shove at Eddie’s shoulder with his foot.

“If you’re gonna sleep, go do it in a bed,” Eddie snapped back, crossing his arms. “Don’t take up the whole fucking couch with your freakishly long sasquatch legs. This isn’t even your couch anyway, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Richie rolled his eyes. “The others aren’t getting here for another two hours, I think I’m allowed a fucking nap.”

“If you went to sleep at a normal fucking time,” Eddie said, slicing his hand through the air, “you wouldn’t need to take so many naps. What the fuck do you even do all night? I get texts from you at like, three in the morning!”

Richie leaned forward with a grin. “Well, if you really want to know--”

“If this is a joke about my mom you better shut the fuck up right now.”

Richie tossed his head back with a laugh. “Alright, alright.”

Richie had enough self control to give the scene about two minutes to settle. Then, he swung his legs back onto the couch and draped them over Eddie’s lap.

“Hey!” Eddie said, trying to push his legs off. “Get off me, asshole! Stop taking up the whole couch!”

Richie tilted his head back and let out an obnoxious snoring sound. Eddie huffed out a frustrated breath and it took all of Richie’s stage skills to not start laughing at him.

Then, unexpectedly, Eddie swung his own legs up on the couch along with Richie’s. Richie startled, jerking his head up to give Eddie an odd look, but yelped when Eddie started kicking and shoving at Richie with his feet.

“What the hell, man?!”

Eddie didn’t reply. There was a grin growing on his face as he slid down the couch, trying to reach further with his feet. Richie found it entirely too adorable, which unfortunately distracted him from Eddie sending a foot flying toward his face. Richie yelped and barely dodged out of the way in time to save his glasses from Eddie’s wrath. The scene unlocked a memory in his mind, long buried despite regaining his memories from Derry.

 At this point, Richie only hogged the hammock as an excuse to get close to Eddie. It was honestly pretty uncomfortable, the hammock wasn’t meant for two people, even as `small as Eddie was, and it was a hassle to get them both to fit most of the time.

Which, surprisingly, was only partially where the kicking came in. The rest was because Eddie and Richie were just like that.

They were arguing loudly over the hammock again, which happened pretty much every time they were in the clubhouse together. Richie barely managed to dodge a foot, clearly aiming to hook around his glasses and throw them off his face. It was one of Eddie’s favorite moves, because it left Richie blind and annoyed, and it wasn’t exactly easy to annoy someone as annoying as Richie.

Before Eddie could go for his frames again, Richie grabbed his ankle, fighting for control of the limb. Eddie tried to tug his leg back, shouting a number of obscenities at Richie, but Richie just grinned a memory sparking in his mind.

“Hey Eds--”

“Don’t call me Eds, fucknut!”

“Are you still ticklish as fuck?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he started yelling even louder. Out of the corner of his eye, Richie caught Bev laughing at them while Stan rolled his eyes. They could shut the fuck up, in Richie’s humble opinion, this meant absolutely nothing at all, and Richie’s heart was totally not beating wildly out of his chest.

Richie started scratching his nails against the arch of Eddie’s socked foot, and Eddie’s obscenities quickly became interspersed with laughter. Richie couldn’t help but laugh along with him, wiggling his fingers along with his scratching to try and get an even better reaction.

“Fuck -- Richie, please!”

Richie smirked at him. “Begging already, Eddie Spaghetti? I know you can last longer than that.”

“Rich!!”

Foolishly, Eddie kicked at Richie with his other foot, trying to knock Richie’s hands off him. Instead, Richie let out his best evil laugh (it fell a little flat, Richie definitely needed to workshop it, but even still, a blush rose to Eddie’s adorable little ears) and grabbed Eddie’s other foot. Eddie shrieked and tried to escape, but Richie quickly pressed Eddie’s legs together before wrapping his own legs around Eddie’s knees to keep them there.

“Richie, don’t you fucking dare!”

“Oh, I dare, Eds.”

Richie immediately went back to scratching at Eddie’s arches, grinning when he burst back into loud laughter. He scrunched his soles and tried to shake Richie’s hands off, twisting and turning and kicking what little he could, but unable to get free from Richie’s hold. He couldn’t even flip the hammock over to knock them to the floor, though it was clear he was trying.

“What’s wrong, Eds, can’t get away?”

Even through his laughter, Eddie still managed to cry out, “Don’t you fucking call me that!”

As usual, Richie ignored him, moving down to tickle at his heels. Eddie tumbled into childish, high-pitched giggles that were so adorable that even Richie’s ears went pink. It was nothing compared to the flush suddenly filling Eddie’s face, though, all too aware of how he sounded.

“Cute cute cute!” Richie called out to him.

Eddie didn’t reply, he simply covered his giggling face.

“Aw, come on Eddie, don’t hide!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Richie decided to be nice and stop embarrassing Eddie, moving his fingers up to tickle just under Eddie’s socked toes. Eddie’s hands dropped from his face as his eyes bulged out of his skull, shrieking and trying desperately to kick his legs out of Richie’s grasp. He tried to sit up to reach Richie’s hands, but Richie used one foot to push back against his chest while still pinning Eddie’s knees as best as he could.

“Richie!!”

Richie grinned. “Yes, Eddie my love?”

“Please!”

Richie chuckled under his breath and cocked his head to the side. “You know, you haven’t actually asked me to stop.”

Richie lightened his touch so Eddie was only giggling, and Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise. He stammered for a few seconds, even as he was giggling and panting, before he found his words.

“Yes-- Yes I have!”

“N-n-no you h-haven’t!” Bill helpfully called across the clubhouse.

Eddie went so red that Richie was almost worried he would burst a blood vessel in his face. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across his face as Eddie glared at him.

“Well-- fucking stop, then!”

Richie stopped immediately, freeing Eddie’s legs. And he may have been an asshole, but he was at least nice enough to not mention the disappointment that crossed Eddie’s face when Richie finally freed him.

 “Hey Eds--”

Eddie’s scowled deepened, even as he kept his feet flying toward Richie’s glasses, trying to knock them off. “Don’t call me Eds, fucknut!”

Richie grinned brightly, trapping Eddie’s feet and legs in that same hold from so long ago. “Are you still ticklish as fuck?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. He started kicking even harder, trying to free his legs before Richie could attack. Richie wiggled his fingers threateningly above Eddie’s socked feet.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Eddie shouted. “I will fucking kill you, don’t you fucking dare!”

Richie laughed. The whole situation was starting to give him a bit of deja vu, the only thing missing was the near-sickening swing of a shitty old hammock from all of Eddie’s squirming.

“Oh, I dare, Eds.”

Richie started scratching at Eddie’s arches with both hands, showing no mercy. Eddie burst into laughter immediately, trying and failing to tug his legs back. Just like when they were kids, Richie couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Richie, come on!”

“Yes, Eddie?”

Eddie squealed at a particularly vicious wiggle of Richie’s nails against his skin, arching his back and scrunching his feet up. His feet wiggled and twisted in Richie’s grasp, and Richie play-growled as he tried to keep them still and tickle them at the same time.

“Hold still!” Richie said. “Or’ll I’ll go for your toes!”

Eddie gasped through his laughter, thrashing even harder. Richie laughed as he tightened his legs around Eddie’s own.

“Please!” Eddie yelled.

An evil grin spread across Richie’s face. “Please tickle your toes?”

Eddie yelled wordlessly.

“I think I will, since you asked so nicely.”

Richie dug his fingers into the fabric beneath Eddie’s toes, trying his best to tickle despite how scrunched up his feet were. He was really more tickling the balls of his feet at this point. Eddie howled and tossed his head back, more pleas and curses falling from his lips.

“Alright, that’s it,” Richie said. “If that’s how you’re gonna be--”

Richie started pulling Eddie’s socks off. Eddie desperately gripped them in his toes, squirming and kicking to dislodge Richie, but there was a smile on his face all the while even though Richie wasn’t actively tickling him. His dimples were bright and deep, even with the scar that cut through the one on his left cheek, and his ears were a bright pink. Richie’s heart stuttered in his chest.

Damn his stupid fucking childhood crush, coming back to bite him in the ass over 20 years later. How could he still be in love with Eddie Kaspbrack, even after all these years?

At least Richie was good at burying his feelings, especially before people could see them on his face. And Eddie, arguably the best at reading him (aside from Stan, at least, but Stan could read everyone like a book with no effort at all), was thankfully a little too distracted to notice Richie’s own pink cheeks and ears.

Richie finally managed to tug his socks off, throwing them somewhere else in the room. They could find them later. He made sure his grip wrapped around Eddie’s legs was properly tight before gathering up Eddie’s big toes in one hand. The other started spidering gently over Eddie’s heels, making him tumble into giggles just like when they were kids.

“You know, Eds, you haven’t changed one bit.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Eddie yelled through his giggles, the pink spreading down his ears and into his cheeks at the sound of himself.

His giggles weren’t as sweet and childish as they once were. They were deeper now, and less bright, but they were bubbly as ever and no less beautiful. Richie felt his own blush spread down his neck and he hoped Eddie didn’t notice that, either. Well, embarrassing Eddie had always been a great way of distracting him, before.

“You’re as adorable as ever, Spaghetti!” Richie said, wiggling his fingers just a tad higher so they just barely reached the bottom of his arches. “Ticklish as ever, too.”

Eddie shrieked and tried to scrunch his feet as Richie moved higher, but Richie kept his grip tight enough that he had no success. Slowly, he started inching his fingers even higher, moving towards Eddie’s toes. If he remembered correctly, this spot would get Eddie to scream.

“You know, Eddie,” Richie said conversationally, raising his voice to talk over Eddie’s laughter, “If you told me to stop, I would.”

“I did!” Eddie said.

“No you haven’t,” Richie replied at the exact same time as Bill, who Richie hadn’t even heard come back in the room.

Richie jumped, his tickling faltered for a moment, shooting a glare over at Bill.

“Fuck off,” he and Eddie said in unision. 

Bill raised his hands in surrender and left the room, muttering something about “weird flirting rituals.”

Well, fuck you, Billiam, because Richie was sure as hell not flirting, no sir.

He was just… tickling the shit out of the guy he’d been hopelessly in love with since he was eleven. It was no big deal. Just two bros being dudes.

Richie turned his evil grin back on Eddie once Bill had gone. “Last chance to stop this,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Eddie snapped, his blush going from pink to red.

Richie’s smile widened. It wasn’t anywhere near a “stop.”

He immediately started scratching his nails beneath Eddie’s toes, keeping his touch soft and gentle to start. It still had Eddie screaming in seconds, struggling desperately to pull his feet from Richie’s grasp.

“Asshole!” Eddie gasped through his laughter.

“That’s still not telling me to stop,” Richie said in a sing-song voice.

“Please! Rich!”

“That is also not telling me to stop. Are you sure you hate this as much as you pretend to?”

“Fuck!”

Richie cackled as Eddie thrashed around on the couch. He wiggled his fingers at the skin under his toes, twisted his fingers between them, and even scratched at the stems. The whole time, Eddie was going ballistic, tears of laughter building up in his eyes. Even through all this, he still hadn’t told Richie to stop. Richie was starting to wonder if he was going too far.

Then, Eddie started sitting up. Richie tried the same trick from when they were kids, using one of his feet to push at Eddie’s chest so he couldn’t reach Richie’s hands. The only issue was, Eddie was a lot stronger than when they were kids. He wasn’t that tiny little boy anymore, riddled with false illnesses, afraid he was as breakable as glass. He was still tiny, sure, but he was strong. Eddie worked out now (which Richie definitely appreciated, not that he would ever admit it).

Even weakened with his howling cackles, Eddie still managed to push his way up. His eyes were glowing with mirth, his face was bright and open with his unrepentant smile, and his cheeks were rosy and healthy. Richie couldn’t help the way his fingers faltered at the sight.

It was all the opening Eddie needed. His grin went from bubbly to feral in milliseconds and he tugged his feet out from Richie’s grip without any effort at all. Richie quickly realized that those were runner’s legs, because Eddie worked out, and that Eddie had been holding back that whole fucking time.

Richie had two epiphanies at once. One, Eddie had been letting Richie tickle him, he wanted it, and that set off all sorts of butterflies in his chest and stomach. Two, Richie was absolutely and totally fucked, which set off a whole different brand of butterflies.

“Eds-- Eddie, let’s talk about this--”

Eddie’s grin widened. “Don’t call me Eds.”

Then, Eddie lunged. Richie made a very embarrassing sounding yelp, that he very much hoped Eddie would keep to himself, and tried to scramble back over the arm of the couch. He failed, obviously, seeing as the only working out he’d ever done in his life was running from the clown and Bowers, and Eddie could probably run a marathon and not break a sweat.

Richie quickly found himself pinned underneath Eddie, Eddie’s weight straddling his thighs. Richie’s hands were still free, but he’d never been especially coordinated, and it only got worse with even the threat of being tickled.

Probably because of some subconscious desire of his to have wiggling fingers dig into every sensitive spot he has. Not that he’d ever admit any sort of desire out loud.

“Since you so mercilessly went for such a bad spot--”

“You were kicking me--!”

“-- I think I’ll return the favor.”

“Wait,” Richie cried, but it was pretty unconvincing given the giddy smile on his face. “Eddie, wait, no!”

Eddie took on a patronizing voice. “All you have to say is ‘stop.’”

That was totally unfair. Richie said “stop” when being tickled about as much as Eddie did, which was almost never.

Richie wasn’t given much time to think about that, however, because Eddie wasted no more time in digging into his hips. Which, even more unfair in Richie’s opinion, going for a death spot so soon, when Richie worked his way up to Eddie’s toes. 

He jumped and bucked as Eddie squeezed at his hips, which quickly turned to squealing and attempting to curl up when Eddie started scratching at the bones. Eddie’s nails, unsurprisingly, were a lot better manicured than Richie’s own, which meant they tickled like fuck. Richie felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin in the best of ways, and he chose to cover his flushing face with his hands instead of trying to shove Eddie off.

“Eds, please!”

Eddie hummed. “Mm, no. Tell me to stop, Rich.”

Richie wailed in ticklish embarrassment, now blushing for a completely different reason than Eddie being the cutest man on the planet. Now, he was fucking hot, all in control and making Richie lose his mind and shit, and he couldn’t even enjoy it because, as he said, he was losing his mind.

Well, he was blushing from that and the exertion of his laughter. Hopefully one could disguise the other.

“Cute cute cute,” Eddie said in a nasally, high-pitched voice, probably meant to mimic child-Richie.

Richie had a lot of things he wanted to say to that, not the least of which was a heartfelt love confession thanks to the object of his affections calling him fucking cute, but he went with a safer option instead.

“You’re shit at that!” He cried through his laughter.

Eddie’s tickling paused and Richie sucked in a few deep breaths, eyeing him warily. Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to fucking insult me right now.”

Oh shit.

Eddie shoved Richie’s shirt up and shimmied his jeans a little lower on his hips, sending all sorts of weird, conflicting messages through Richie’s brain. Then, while Richie was still trying to process that shit, Eddie ducked his head down and Richie lost all the breath he had regained.

He was shocked out of his stupor by the most torturous raspberry ever given in the history of mankind being blown against the dip of his hip. Richie was certain it was the loudest he had ever yelled, which was saying something because Richie was loud. He couldn’t gain enough control over his arms to do much more than grip Eddie’s hair. He didn’t bother trying to pull or push him away, he just held on for dear life as Eddie systematically destroyed him.

Richie howled and cackled and screamed, and Richie was glad that Bill was the only other one in the house because he really did not need every single Loser hearing him make these noises. Sure, they heard it echo in the clubhouse when they were kids, but Richie was an adult now and had to maintain some semblance of control and maturity.

Then again, Bill would probably spread this around like wildfire.

Just when Richie thought he’d reached peak ticklishness, Eddie somehow led him to an all new peak. Richie’s screams went silent as Eddie gently dragged his teeth against one of his hipbones. Ticklish sparks shot straight up Richie’s spine, too ticklishly keyed up to realize how fucking hot that was, and he bucked up with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. The two of them landed in a heap on the floor.

Richie landed on top of Eddie, whose legs wound up wrapped around his waist. Richie held himself up on his forearms, resting on the rug on either side of Eddie’s head. Richie was still panting for breath, the wide, tickle-induced smile still stretched across his face and a blush still travelling from his ears to his neck. Eddie was grinning up at him, the pink flush spreading through his cheeks once more.

Richie wasn’t sure who moved first. All he knew was that suddenly, they were kissing. They were both smiling too wide for it to be a particularly effective kiss, but it still sent magical sparks zinging through Richie’s chest. If this was how all of their tickle fights were going to end from now on, Richie was going to have to start them more often.

“Fuck,” Richie whispered when they pulled back.

Eddie pressed their foreheads together with a chuckle. “I guess that’s one way to do it.”

“You know,” Richie said, still whispering. “I only tickled you so much when we were kids because you were fucking adorable when I did, and I was practically in love with you.”

Eddie locked eyes with him.

“I don’t think you hated it as much as you pretended to, though,” Richie finished with a grin.

“Fuck you,” Eddie snapped, but there was no heat to it. “And now?”

“Now?”

“Why start a tickle fight now?”

Richie grinned. “Well, Eds--”

“Fuck you!”

“-- I gotta say, the years didn’t make you any less adorable.”

“Yeah?” Eddie whispered, and Richie felt Eddie’s legs tighten around his waist.

“Yeah.” And then, because Richie couldn’t be serious for more than two minutes at a time, he said, “Still not as cute as your mom, though.”

Eddie groaned, slapping his shoulder. “Beep beep, you fucking asshole. I thought we were having a moment.”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “We could have another, if you want.”

One of Eddie’s hands came up to thread through the hair at the nape of Richie’s neck. Just as he started to tug Richie down, just as their lips started to brush, there was a snort from the doorway that had them jumping apart. Richie barely avoided clunking his head against the end table as he sprang away from Eddie.

“Finally,” Bill said. “B-B-Bev owes me fifty d-dollars.”

“Fuck off!” He and Eddie shouted in unison. 

Bill laughed and raised his hands in surrender, leaving the room again. “D-don’t christen your n-n-new relationship on my rug.”

Richie scowled at Bill’s back until he was out of sight. Then, he turned his gaze back towards Eddie, who was already crawling towards him again.

“Wanna make out until the rest of the group gets here?” Eddie said with a grin.

Richie grinned back. “Only if I get to tickle you and you laugh into my mouth.”

Eddie laughed, already pulling Richie closer. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“You love it.”

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately, I love you. Obnoxious as you are.”

Richie could barely stop smiling for long enough to press his lips to Eddie’s. Eddie shoved him back onto the floor, landing on top himself this time. Richie did end up skittering his fingers up and down Eddie’s sides and ribs, tasting the giggles that Eddie let out into his mouth. Eddie wasted no time in returning the favor, either, dragging his blunt nails across Richie’s skin to get him giggling against Eddie’s lips.

It was by far the best make-out session Richie had ever had. Partially from the tickling, Richie would never complain about that, but mostly because it was Eddie. Whenever the rest of the Loser’s arrived, they would be pretty hard-pressed to get Richie to stop kissing Eddie for even a moment. They had a lot of lost time to make up for.

[harper-hook]

Into The Woods | Harry Hook x Reader

Request: Can I request a Harry X reader where the reader is Peter Pan's daughter and they hate each other at first but then things get really heated between them and it turns into full on smut?

Warnings: Oral sex

Author’s Note: This almost killed me to write tbh

The familiar scraping of metal on metal made you groan mentally and slam your locker. “what do ya want now, Hook?” You snapped, unfortunately used to your father’s enemy's son bothering you. “Just came to see me favorite little sprite.” He replied with a wide grin, seeing how it got under your skin.

You stopped yourself before you yelled at him and caused a scene. It was the day right before Spring Break and you didn’t want to damper your spirits by earning after school detention as soon as you got back. “Well you saw me. Now back off.” You ordered.

Harry stepped back, faking a wounded look. “My plans don’t involve backing off.” He smirked. “Quite the opposite in fact, seeing as you’re heading back to Neverland.” You groaned and rolld your eyes. This again. 

“If you let me tag along, I’ll make it worth your wild.” He practically purred, getting up in your personal bubble. You sneered at him. “Listen, Hook and listen good.” You poked him chest with your finger. “You will never! Set foot in Neverland if I have anything to say about it!” You hissed.

Harry’s smirk dropped and he adopted an angry glare. You were a bit nervous but you couldn’t back down now. “Then we’ll just have to hope nothing happens to ya!” He hissed. You growled, getting in his face and bawling your fists.

“Hook! Pan!” You snapped out of your rage as Fairy Godmother came bustling around the corner, catching you both. Uh oh...

One long and infuriating detention later, you were finally packing up. “Stupid Hook and his stupid face...” You ranted to Ben over the phone. Ben sighed as you leaned against the side of your car, trunk still open. “Didn’t you think he was cute when he first came here?” Mal asked, joining Ben on the other line.

The good thing about being over the phone was no one could see you roll your eyes. "That was before he opened his mouth." You huffed. “So you’re gonna talk to Tiger Peony about the trade deal between Neverland and Auradon, right?” Ben changed the subject.

“Yeah I’ll do your job while on my spring break, Ben.” You rolled your eyes. "I appreciate it, you know?" He said. "Uh huh. See if you can lower my detention sessions when I come back." Ben sighed, confirming that he said he would see what he could do.

You said your goodbyes and promised to call once you arrived; Ben always the worrier. Hanging up, you quickly slammed your trunk shut and climbed in the driver's side.

Taking one last look at Auradon Prep in the mirror, you pulled out and started on your long 6 hour drive.

-----

The first couple of hours of the drive you didn't mind. Plenty of sunlight and good music made the time fly. But thanks to Fairy Godmother's detention, you'd left 2 hours late and now the sun was going down quick.

Driving at night didn't bother you but driving through Summerwoods at night bothered you. You turned your music down and took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. Now you really regretted turning Herkie’s invitation for a ride. “(Y/N), you’re a fucking moron.” You hummed to yourself.

Then it sounded like a gun shot went off. You let out a small shriek, thankfully not swerving your car off the road. You slowed considerably, still confused and terrified. Then you heard it, what sounded like a horse’s snort, the spluttering of air. Your heart sank, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Are you fucking serious right now?!”

Slowly limping your car to the side of the road and putting it in park, you practically threw yourself out of the door, mood souring at the telltale signs of a popped tire. You glanced to the right and saw the back tire, flat as paper. 

You groaned, you held your head in your hands. Ok, keep yourself together, you thought. I’m a strong independent woman and I can change a tire, that’s what I keep a spare for, you reminded yourself. 

You ran to the back and popped the trunk open again. “Hiya!” You screamed, stumbling backwards and falling on the ground. You laid there in complete shock, breathing heavily and heart thumping. You could hear Harry wheezing in laughter.

After a few seconds, you sat up, gasping for air. “What the fuck?” You rasped out. Harry climbed out of your trunk, still shaking in mirth. Shakily, you stood to your feet, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“What in the actual fuck do you think you’re going?” You screamed, no longer shaking in fear but in anger. “I’m going to Neverland, what does it look like?” He said with a slight eyeroll like you were stupid. This just pissed you off more.

“It looks like you’re some kind of fucking stalker!” Harry stopped laughing, looking at you with a positively poisonous glare. He stomped up to you, clearly trying to intimidate you. You were too angry to care. 

“You might wanna loose the attitude, lass. We’re all alone out here.” He sneered. It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Just get out of my way.” You pushed past him, peering into your trunk. “Where’s my spare tire?” You questioned, looking back at Harry who looked like a pouty kid caught in the cookie jar.

“Was awful cramped in there with that thing.” He muttered. He continued at your deadpan look. “Threw it out at the school.” You took a sharp, deep inhale, fists clenching and unclenching. You turned and slammed your trunk shut, putting your arms and head down on top of it. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. The whole irony and bullshit of the situation was honestly laughable. It would’ve been funnier if it hadn’t been you. “Pan?” You heard Harry call. “What?!” You snapped, raising your head. 

“Ya okay?” Your eyes widened as you spun around. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just ask me that when you literally ruined my entire evening!” You screamed at him. Harry marched up to you, forcing you back against your trunk. “I thought I told you to loose the fucking attitude.” He snapped. He grabbed the hair at the base of your neck and practically bent you over backwards on your trunk.

He leaned in close to you, cocky smirk on his face. You snarled and bared your teeth, leaning closer to his face. “Am I supposed to be scared of you? There’s 1000 things in these woods alone that are scarier than you.” You and Harry’s gazes locked. His eyes were so... blue. You really hadn’t noticed before. 

His glare softened slightly and he released his grip on your hair, stepping back. You straightened up, keeping a close eye on Harry. You’d never admit that he scared you a bit. Never.

It was silent now. You looked away into the forest. It was completely dark now. Crunching sounds from the forest made the hairs on your arms raise. You and Harry shared a look to confirm you both heard it. A nearby wolf’s howl made you gasp and reach out, a firm hold on Harry’s shirt. He held your wrist.

“C’mon. C’mon.” He ushered you to the backseat and practically shoved you in and climbed in after you. You sighed and tucked your knees under your chin. Fuck, this was bad. “Call Princey. See what kinda magic he can work.” Harry murmured, like he was afraid to talk too loud. 

“Hey, finally a smart suggestion from you.” You said with a sarcastic smile and leaned forward to your car’s center panel. You had both knees on the middle storage compartment, waiting on the phone to ring. 

“Hello?” Ben answered after three rings. “Ben!” You were instantly filled with relief. “I need some help. My car blew a tire in the Summerwoods.” You explained. “What about your spare?” He asked. You turned to glance at Harry who gave a sarcastic wave. You flipped him off and turned back around. “It was a bad spare.” You lied. “Can you send help?” 

“Uh, yeah. It’s gonna be a couple of hours though.” Ben said. You groaned at the fact you already knew. “Thanks, Ben. I’ll make it up to you one day, I swear.” You smiled at Ben’s laughter. “Yeah, just hang tight.” With that, he hung up and you tossed your phone back into the center console.

You moved to sit back down in the backseat, instead moving into something solid. While you were preoccupied, Harry had slid into the middle seat right behind you. “What are you-” You squeaked as Harry pulled you down into his lap. 

He wound his hand into your hair again and bent you backwards, leaving your neck exposed. His other hand had a firm grip on your hip. You gasped as he licked a stripe up your neck, blowing on it to make you shudder. “W-what are you doing?”

“I can see it, ya know? I saw it earlier. Ya look at me the way I look at ya.” He murmured, low and close to your ear. “You lie and say you hate me but have still fantasized about this. About me.” He placed a kiss on your neck. Your shaking hands found their place on his knees. 

“Say you want this. Say you want me. Or I’ll let you go and we never have to speak again.” Your heart hurt in an unexplained way. This bickering love-to-hate routine you and Harry had fallen into naturally, for it all to stop one day? It seemed Harry Hook had somehow managed to worm his way into your heart.

“Harry...” You murmured, looking up at him. “I want you. Now.” You said with more confidence that you’d anticipated. He looked surprised but quickly adopted his signature cocky grin. “Atta girl.” He helped you turn around to straddle him.

You bent down to kiss along his jawline before planting one on his lips. It started innocent but quickly turned rougher and more passionate. Harry raised his hand and brought it down hard on your ass. You gasped into the kiss and pulled away, looking at Harry with an indignant look. 

“That’s for the fuckin’ attitude you’ve been giving me for the last 4 months.” He growled, voice deep and husky. “You’ll get a lot more later.” He said, his tone of voice making you realize you were in for a world of hurt later.

He tugged on the bottom of your shirt before pulling it off. He grinned and pulled you back for another kiss, slowly grinding his erection against your leg. You scratched his shoulders as you pulled away. 

“I’m not fucking you on the first date.” You said matter-of-factly. He looked at you, confused and a bit annoyed. “Technically it’s not even a date. More of a car invasion.” You crossed your arms, smirking at Harry. He narrowed his eyes before grinning himself.

“Either way, I’m still gonna rock your world, luv.” He smacked your ass in the same spot, making you hiss in pain. You climbed off his lap and leaned up against the door, Harry right on top of you.

You gripped the seat as Harry kissed down your neck, teeth scraping your skin. Your head was tossed back as he moved lower and lower. "Look at me." You glanced down and could barely make out Harry kneeling between your legs.

He started tugging on your jeans and you lifted up to help him. In one fluid motion, your jeans were tossed into the front seat. You whimpered, feeling exposed. Harry shushed you, breathing close to your lower belly. "Trust me."

Your heart lurches in shock as cold metal dragged its way up your leg and hooked into your underwear, tugging them down. You felt like your face was on fire.

You took a deep breath as Harry threw one leg over his shoulder and the opposite leg was pushed to dangle over the floor boards. You flushed again as Harry kissed gently up your thigh. You shrieked as he nipped your inner thigh.

"Fucker..." You stammered. Harry laughed before he leaned down close to your heat. He slowly dragged his tongue up your slit. You moaned loudly, one hand reaching to Harry's head, pushing him down.

You sighed and moaned into your hand as Harry continued his ministrations. "I- I wanna hear you." Harry murmured into your thigh. "I wanna hear how good I'm making you feel." His voice barely more than a whisper.

"Harry!" You moaned loudly as Harry blew cool air over your slit. "That's my girl." And he went back down on you, more aggressive this time. The air in the car felt thick and foggy, just like your thought process.

Harry moved to your clit, clearly tracing a pattern. He used one hand on hold your bucking hips down as he continued. "Are you-" You trailed into a high pitched whine. "Tracing your fucking name?" You shook violently.

You could feel Harry grin against you. He moved up into your face, noses nearly touching. "Yeah. And what are ya going to do about it?" He sneered, attack your neck again with a rigorous fever. "Mine." That one word sent a fire burning through you.

One of Harry's hands moved you your slit, two fingers slipping in easily. "Harry..." You moaned, tears coming to your eyes. He was still sucking and biting at the base of your neck and collarbone, clearly trying to leave a mark. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, making him let out a few curses.

Harry curled his fingers against your G-spot relentlessly, your legs shaking and your hips bucking wildly. "Harry!" You sobbed as you finally came, back arching and world going still.

It was quiet for a moment and the only sound was both of yours heavy breathing. Harry pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his pant, sitting back on the other side of the backseat. You sat up and pulled your legs back to you.

You winced, pain shooting through your body. "What the fuck did you do to me, Hook?" You muttered. Your legs and back were cramped up and it felt like you'd been punched in the neck. He laughed heartily. "Fucked ya up good, huh?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but agree. Between your dried tears on your cheeks and messy hair from rubbing against the window, not to mention all the bruises.

You glanced over at Harry who was looking at you curiously. "What?" He asked. You smirked at him, leaning over him. You ran you hand down his chest and iver the bulge in his pants, making him buck into your hand. "It's my turn now."

[notmrskennedy]

Bites and Bullet Holes

(Spencer Reid x Female leaning but sorta GN! Reader)

Summary: Spencer, during college, was bitten by a dog. Working a case involving dogs brings back old memories and friends...

W/C: 3,384

Warnings: Dog bites, bullet holes, bad writing? 

A/N: Guess what I found y’all? I haven’t edited it one single bit but I hope it goes over well anyway. When I was working at the kennel I kept having anxiety over one of my kids getting into a fight so I made this. Be a little extra gentle with this one. 

---

As he leaned over the victim, he made the mistake of thinking about you. Spencer thought he’d gotten over it. The whole randomly thinking about you thing—the thing that’s happened too many times before. He’d chalked it up to you being best friends 15 years ago. Told himself that it’s normal to miss your friends from college. 

But over a dead body? This was new. 

Though he supposes the dead girl could’ve looked like you in another timeline. There’s facial structure similarities—at least to you 15 years ago at 19. She’s been strangled with her dog’s leash and there’s some unspoken quality about her that just…jerks him into nostalgia over you. 

(You are probably the one that got away, but if he’s being honest, you live in DC. He could go see you right now if he wanted to.)

Morgan leans over Spencer and points at the dog leash. “It had to be someone she knew if the dog went off with our un-sub.”

Spencer nods, fidgeting with the 15 year old scars on the inside of his wrist. Whether or not Morgan noticed, he thankfully doesn’t press. Spencer is having enough trouble stamping down that knee-jerk reaction to think about you, let alone if Derek thinks to point out the magical, ‘hey weren’t you bitten by a dog?’

Spencer doesn’t remember the incidence well enough to comment. He wonders if you do. 

“We’ll have to check shelters for the dog,” Spencer remarks. “3.3 million dogs enter shelters every year in the US.” 

Morgan nods, pulls off a glove, pulls out his phone. Spencer looks around the park. Behind the police tape are plenty of people walking their dogs. The sorts of breeds that you’ve gushed about 15 years ago. His brain knew too much about dobermans, shepherds, mallinois—he could even hear that pretty little gasp you had when you’d point out a particularly well trained monster of a pet. 

Spencer wonders if you ever did anything with your finance degree, if you even ended up finishing college at all. You’d come close to dropping out over calculus—he hadn’t been around long enough to help you through the even harder stuff. This wasn’t the first time he’d wanted Garcia to look you up, but it was the first time he’d considered it. 

“Music to my ears, mama,” Morgan laughs into the phone and Spencer tunes back in. 

“I’ll get that puppy BOLO out,” Garcia chirps back. Spencer can imagine her wringing a fluffy pencils through her fingers. “We’re going to find this doggie and make sure that psycho didn’t get him too.”

Spencer smiles despite himself. Penelope would’ve liked you. 

#

JJ sets coffee down in front of his stack of files. She smiles, gracefully sits down next to him. Spencer tries his best to ignore her insistence. Tries to ignore the ever prominent eye contact screaming ‘We’re going to talk about something uncomfortable!’ 

“So, Spence,” she says, pausing for his attention with a sip of her own coffee. He looks up for half a glance before going back to the files. He doesn’t know why, but he’s sure there’s something in this stack of work the first victim had brought home with her. They all knew the un-sub, he had to be somewhere. 

“Spencer,” she says more insistently. He makes the mistake of looking up, of letting her place a hand on his. She gently turns the wrist over and pointedly glances towards the teeth marks. “Are you doing okay?”

He opens his mouth, but decides some things are better kept to himself. He thinks about saying that no, he wasn’t alright, that being plagued by thoughts of the first-love-of-his-life is haunting him more than the dog fight. 

That he can see your face in each of these victims. In their dogs. In the places they died. 

Dogs didn’t like him. They never did. The dog bite wasn’t the big deal out of the altercation. 

JJ won’t understand, so he offers her a truthful smile and says, “I’m okay. Seriously. More than 4.5 million people are bitten by dogs each year. I’m not special.”

JJ nods. Spencer goes back to his files. He forgets to hide his lovesick agony. JJ forgets not to notice. 

#

It’s 4AM and he knows he’s remembering it wrong. That the dog hadn’t been that big. That the teeth hadn’t really gotten him that bad. The bright red devil eyes and thousand yards of slobber were more than grossly incorrect. 

He sits up in bed and forces himself to remember the parts that were real. How real you had been. Before and after. 

Your car had broken down as you were leaving for work—already late—and you’d begged him for a ride. Promised calculus homework on your boss’s couch and only having to let the dogs out. No shit. No bleaching crates. No nothing. Just you, him, and some calculus homework. 

He’d caved. Now, running his hands over his eyes, he laughs at how obvious he had to have been. A skinny little 19 year old pimple of a boy majorly crushing on the first person to pick him out of a crowd and decide they’d be friends. The first friend who’d forced him to a tailgate at a football game. The only person he’d do absolutely anything for. 

And it was just like you promised. Your cute little nose wrinkle. Your horribly frustrated glares. Your over dramatic ‘I’m dropping out!’s every fifteen minutes. And it’d been great until you both heard a thunderous snap of a wooden fence and the wildest, most murderous howling he’d ever heard. 

You’d both bolted for the door, scrambling to get through the gates into the back. There’d been a moment of calm. Another beat. Another. And…you both had stumbled around the corner to find the next door neighbour’s dog, broken chain, trying to kill one of the kennel’s dogs. 

There had been no moment’s hesitation on Spencer’s part. He’d stupidly rushed forward, lodged his hand between the neighbour’s mutt and the sweetest dog he’d ever met. He’d yanked her free from the mutt’s jaws, only to find his own wrist dragging along the teeth. 

(He realised later that he’d always had a propensity to run head first into danger. No calculations needed.)

There’d been two beats for the dog to process it’s chew toy was in Spencer’s arms. To process that Spencer made a better victim. That Spencer’s throat and limbs were softer and easier to tear. Thankfully, he’d scrambled back enough that when the dog launched, it didn’t catch flesh. It chomped on air. Less than three inches from him. 

Fangs. Tightened lips. Black gums. Slobber. 

The mutt could be equated to Stephen King’s The Sun Dog. Always hesitant to process his trauma, it’s the one book—gifted by you during a Halloween birthday for him—that sits untouched on his bookshelves. There’s too much of you in the inscription in the cover. Too much of that horrible mutt in the pages. 

The next part of the night blurred in his memories. In his near perfect memory, it blurred. Trauma, right? 

You’d screamed. You were in front of him. You had the dog’s chain in your hands. He was running. The dog was heavy in his arms. His arm stung. You were screaming. He should’ve gone back. 

Five god-awful minutes later, you’d come into the house. Limping. Clutching onto your arm. You’d taken one look at Spencer running his wrist under the tap and forgotten about your own injuries. Despite the blood dripping off your arm. Or the quiet yelp every time you stretched. You’d barely taken ‘I’m fine, you’re the one bleeding’ as a reason to not bandage him up first. 

The only thing that calmed down the dream every time he had it was the memory of holding your hand while you got stitches. How your face pinched with the pain. How you’d said, ‘next time, it’s your turn to take the bullet.’ How he’d smiled and promised. 

Spencer watches the clock tick by and decides it’s too late to go back to sleep. Hotch’ll be up in an hour. No need to delay his start. Women were dying. Women you would’ve been friends with.

#

“Okay, crime-fighters, I found our connection,” Garcia chirps over the speaker phone. “All of our victims attended very specialised dog training courses at a facility just outside of DC. The owner said they’d send in one of their trainers to talk to you. Should be there anytime now.”

“What kind of specialised training?” Emily asks. Spencer feels like he should be contributing, should be processing any of this, but his head is pounding. He doesn’t have a hangover, but god does it feel like it. 

Garcia hums as she types. “It’s a military facility. Awww, they’ve got puppy pictures on their website!”

“Garcia—“

“Right, right. It’s a top notch facility and oh! A bunch of the FBI dogs graduate from there. I wonder if they get little caps and gowns and—“

“Hey, baby girl, the trainer’s here. We gotta run,” Morgan interrupts, though he’s all smiles to stare at whomever is plaguing his interest. 

There’s another squeal of please get puppy pictures before the call cuts and Spencer finally has the self preservation to look. And god does he look. 

15 years has made no difference on your skin and he can’t believe he’s not staring at you from across a lecture hall. The only indication you’ve changed is the nervous smile you’ve plastered on and the dog at your side. Every fun fact about german shepherds instantly crosses his mind and he can’t help but drop his jaw a little further. 

It sinks to the floor when you spot him and wave. You wave. At him. In front of coworkers. 

He’s out of his seat before he can stop himself. That easy smile reserved for movie nights falls back into place on your lips. Twinkles in your eyes. 15 years haven’t passed. Maybe he needs to check for pimples again. 

“Y/n,” he croaks and the same time his name leaves your lips. The dog at your side stands and you correct the gesture with a harsh word in what he’s sure is German. 

“FBI, huh?” Your eyes trail over every inch of him, crossing your arms in a relaxed, familiar kind of way. “I expected more math, Mr. I Like Derivatives.”

“The shepherd there doesn’t look like finance either, y/n,” he teases back like no time has passed. Like he doesn’t immediately feel incredibly guilty for ditching you for the academy. 

“Oh come on,” you huff, “you really think that I was cut out for an office job? I lasted six months.”

And before he can warn you, even think about warning you about the team that’s slowly creeping up behind him, they are all suddenly there. Very keen on knowing the ins and outs of how you know Dr. Spencer Reid. 

“Reid, you gonna introduce us?” Morgan smirks, clapping a painful hand on Spencer’s shoulder. You busy yourself with petting the dog at your hip, looking everywhere but Morgan’s insistent gaze. 

“Guys, this is my friend y/n from college.” 

JJ raises an eyebrow at the lack of explanation, but plows ahead with introductions. Takes charge of guiding you to an interview room. Gets through the entire interview without once asking about your relationship with him. 

Morgan watches Spencer rubbing the scars and makes the leap. “You okay, kid?” 

Spencer breaks from staring at your face as you talk about getting your start in Germany—Germany—and swallows. This was fine. It’s okay to tell his friend—his brother—about the story he’s never really talked about. 

“I stupidly put myself in the middle of a dog fight,” Spencer grits out, flexing and un-flexing his fingers. Every scar burns and he can’t help but stare at your smile again. “Y/n saved my life. She choked out the dog, Morgan, before he got a hold of me. Left the hospital with 12 stitches.”

“Oh,” was his all too helpful response. They both turned back to the interview. How everything jovial about your entire countenance shifted once JJ started mentioning the victims. 

“Look, Agent Jareau,” you say, leaning dangerously far away from the conversation, “They are—they were really smart women with some dangerous dogs. I don’t know—I just—there’s a lot of sickos out there.”

Every profiler within a 20 mile radius can hear the change in tone, can hear the fear. Spencer knows a lot can change in 15 years, but he thought for sure you’d never become a serial killer. He doesn’t know if it’s all his years in the bureau or if he’s still too attached to you, but you don’t seem like the killer. Not like JJ seems to think so. Sure, you’re terrified, but the dog you have is nosing your arm. Giving you big ole puppy eyes. Spencer doesn’t think a serial killer can pour that much into a relationship with an animal. 

“What do you mean?” JJ clocks the movement and switches to a maternal type of body language, tone. “Is there something going on?”

Your hand pauses on the dog’s head, and it noses your hand into action. “I, uh, just got a weird letter two weeks ago. It wasn’t—it was just weird. Off-putting.”

“Right before the first victim,” Spencer mutters. Weird letters indicated stalking. Victims with you as a central point meant stalking. Stalking meant you were probably next. Oh, god, you were next. 

JJ stretched a hand across the table and took yours. “You’ll get through this. You’ll get through this, y/n.”

#

Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands. It was so much worse than normal. Should he stand? But what should he do with his hands because crossing them seemed too defensive? Or should he just sit down? But where? And was that rude?

Instead, he just took the cup of tea you offered and followed you like a lost puppy. Granted, it was your house and he was definitely lost. He also felt vaguely at home—there were a decent amount of bookshelves by his standards and even more mismatched furniture than he had. The house was well cared for and when you sat him down on your couch, you swept away a stack of training manuals, all sporting worn covers. 

Was it wrong to feel like he was settling onto your old apartment couch for movie nights?

You puff out a breath of air and lean your head dramatically into the back of the couch. “So, since you’re my FBI escort, is it wrong to ask if you still like cheesy 90s movies?”

He shakes his head. Grins. “You still have Legally Blonde?”

You just giggle as you head for a stack of movies. You strike up some conversation as you rummage and he knows he’s hooked all over again. It’s going to take weeks to get over you again. It’d taken months the last time, and he feels slightly less attached this time. But did he really think it would take more than a simple question about the latest thing he’s read? He wishes he knew you better, just as well as you seem to still know him. 

Though by the end of the movie, you’ve both returned to your college days. Practically curled into each other’s side. You still have horrible commentary about the movie, peppered in with Spencer’s annoying movie trivia. If it was anyone else, he figures, he would’ve been kicked out long ago. 

You still distinctly smell of vanilla, flailing the scent around as you move closer and further and closer again. You wear enthusiasm with your whole body and if you aren’t turning rapidly between facing Spencer and the movie, how could you possibly begin to explain correctly? 

Your shoulder keeps a constant pressure against his, your knees half over his thigh. There’s too many instances of hollering and laughing that you grab onto his knee to steady yourself. If this hadn’t been a protective detail, he might’ve lost his mind. 

Thank god for focus. Work. Work. Work. Not your hands on his knee. Definitely not your smile as you declare your affection for scented resume stationary. Totally not how hot it’s getting under your too affectionate gaze. 

“Spence, I really missed this,” you whisper, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know it’s weird to be thrown together after 15 years, but I—I missed you.”

“I—“ missed you too; fell in love with you in college; think I love you now. 

But there’s no time for heartfelt declarations when someone’s incessantly banging on the door. Spencer’s got half a mind to get the door for you, holster his gun, focus on keeping you safe. The banging doesn’t soften as he calls out that he’s on his way. If anything it gets worse. 

And it should’ve been the first red flag of the night. 

Spencer opens the door and thinks very loudly, “why the fuck do I always run headfirst into danger?” 

Their un-sub, a buzzcut that looks more Army that not, shakes a pistol at Spencer and demands to be let inside. There’s only so many ways to defuse the situation, so he back ups, tucks you behind him. Their un-sub winds a little tighter, shaking like one of those monkeys with cymbals. 

“McLaggen?” you whimper behind Spencer and the Army man fires a shot into the floor. You grip tighter onto Spencer’s shirt, digging in your fingers dangerously close to his skin. 

The buzzcut is red, boiling over with rage, words bubbling out of his throat. “Y/n, I just can’t stand to see you with them. You never notice me. You’re always working, so I thought I’d get your attention. Cut the competition. I just—you mean so much to me, y/n. You mean too much.”

Spencer is sure he won’t remember this day accurately as he pushes you just a little further behind him. He’s about to do something so incredibly stupid. Dear lord, why the fuck is he like this? And he lunges. 

The gun’s trapped in both of their hands. There’s one more bullet fired—at the ground he’s sure. There’s a squeak of fear. Just enough of a distraction. One more ounce of weight thrown around. One more lasting punch. McLaggen lands on the floor. The gun skitters away. McLaggen groans as he’s handcuffed.

You gasp and he realises immediately that he’s bleeding. That he’s on the floor. That there is a bullet lodged in his thigh. Again. 

One string of swears later, you’re on the phone with 911. Yes, he’s shot. Yes, there’s another in handcuffs. No, I’m not a whore, send the damn ambulance.  

You take his hand as he lays there, much like he did in the hospital 15 years ago. Unlike then, you’ve got tears pricking at your eyes. You’re sniffling like a school girl, and he’s not sure if you’ve said that aloud. 

“Spencer!” You wipe a stray tear. Squeeze his hand too tightly. “Why the hell, you freakin’ moron, did you take a bullet for me?”

He laughs, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. You are too pretty to be this upset at his laughter. You are too lovely to be worried about him. To still be worried, like nothing has changed one bit. 

Every inch of him is trembling. Blood loss and bullets are bitches.

“Y/n,” he wheezes through dry lungs and more leg pain than he remembers there being, “I promised.”

You blink your eyes. What the hell are you talking about, Spencer Reid, you absolute idiot?

“I promised I’d take the next bullet. In the hospital.” He grins, groans as he moves to drag you into a hug. “I’m a man of my word, y/n, and I promise that if I keep the leg, we’re going out. Properly.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you grumble into his ear and squeeze his neck tighter. If the paramedics don’t bother to pull you off, who’s to say you won’t stay like that forever? Attached to the loveable, danger prone idiot, who traded dog bites for bullet holes?

[spookyboywhump]

Lmao a follow up to Last Night’s drabbles. Half Wren caretaking half Cain punishment.

CW: Pet whump, hand/finger whump, brief very nonsexual nudity

***

Nicholas came back to find the room a mess, Wren locked in the bathroom, and Cain curled up in a different corner of the room, seemingly waiting out his inevitable punishment. Wren thought he’d hear a lot more yelling and crying, but instead, he just heard a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Love? Will you open the door?” Nicholas asked gently. He didn’t want to do it, he almost feared he’d be in trouble for what happened, but he was also dizzy and covered in dried blood at this point. He weakly got to his feet, unlocking and opening the door, shaking on his feet as he stared up at the man with big, tear filled eyes. Nicholas scowled when he looked him over, the blood and tear stains on his face, the torn dress. For once, all the anger and defiance and fight that Wren had was gone, instead he was just tired and scared.

“I-I’m sorry...” He whimpered, already trying to hold back more tears.

“Don’t apologize. Come on, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He sighed, stepping inside with him. He helped him out of the remains of the dress, looking over his injuries. He had Wren sit down on the edge of the bathtub so he could get at his back, gathering supplies and gently cleaned up the blood. He flinched and let out a sob when he had to use tweezers to pick out a few stray pieces of glass, but thankfully it wasn’t a whole lot.

Once his back was cleaned up and bandaged, he had him turn so he could get at his face. He very gently tilted his head up, wiping away blood and shushing him when he whined or cried.

“There there, love, it’s alright...” He said softly. “I know it hurts but you’ll be okay...” He was as careful as he could as he bandaged up the last of the injuries. He momentarily left to get him a change of clothes, which he helped him into, before leading him out of the bathroom and helping him into bed. Once he was laid down and comfortable, that was when he turned his attention to Cain.

***

“I don’t know what has gotten into you but I’ve had enough of this.” Nicholas said sternly, dragging Cain down the stairs by his arm. His grip was tight, Cain knew it would leave a bruise. He had already prepared himself for the impending whipping, he knew he’d be punished for this, and he’d made his peace with it.

He didn’t try to run when he was thrown to the floor, sitting up on his knees as he watched Nicholas, but he quickly realized something was off. He wasn’t grabbing the whip, wasn’t even looking at it. There was a table against one wall where he usually kept different tools and supplies but there were straps on it too for ‘just in case’. He pushed stuff aside, grabbing a chair and setting it in front of the table before looking at Cain, fury in his eyes.

“Sit down, now.” He ordered, pointing to the chair, and he shakily got to his feet. He wasn’t scared at first, but the change was making him nervous, his heart pounding in his chest. “Now!” Nicholas snapped when he didn’t move fast enough, prompting him to stumble over and drop into the chair. Nicholas immediately grabbed his left wrist, slamming his hand on the table and securing it with one of the straps.

“W-wait- what- what are you doing?!” He looked up at him with wide eyes, wanting to pull away, but he was stuck to the table for now.

“Punishing you. This has gone too far darling, you need to learn.” He said, stepping away to grab something. He came back, handcuffing Cain’s freehand to the chair leg to keep it out of the way, and dropping two more items on the table while he was there. A hammer, and a box of nails.

“But- but why this?! I-I thought you- you would-“

“Shut up!” Nicholas yelled at him. “Shut up you stupid, worthless Bitch! Keep your hands off my love, I’ve had enough of your tantrums!” He grabbed one of the nails, positioning it over his index finger, and as he picked up the hammer Cain finally broke down crying.

“N-No, no please, sir, please I’ll take- I’ll take anything else, d-don’t-!” He didnt get to finish, Nicholas wasn’t listening, he brought the hammer down as hard as he could and the nail went straight through his finger, pinning it to the table. He shrieked in agony, his eyes screwed shut and face contorted in pain. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, and it seemed like for once, Nicholas was so angry he didn’t even get any joy out of it, simply grabbed another nail and moved onto the next finger.

“This is the least of what you deserve you stupid mutt. Your pathetic jealousy doesn’t give you an excuse to behave like this!” He said, bringing the hammer down again, Cain screaming as he did so.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m- I’m sorry, please!” He begged, trying to remain as still as possible as he cried, even the slightest twitch sending sharp pains through his fingers. He howled in pain as he nailed down the third finger, and finally held a nail over the forth.

“You’re lucky this is all I do to you.” Nicholas snarled. “At this point I should break both your hands entirely!” He said, hammering down the nail as Cain shrieked again. Nicholas seemed satisfied with this, dropping the hammer and starting to walk away, to leave Cain there like what just happened was nothing.

“Don’t try going anywhere, darling.” He said, not even looking back at him as he said, “You need to think about what you’ve done.”