#so the shoulders and bits are a tad odd me thinks

[euthymiya]

parasite — ft. ryomen sukuna

sukuna desires your presence late at night—oddly, it’s not for his pleasures. alternatively: true form sukuna and his begrudging attempt to cuddle

before you read: fem concubine reader (his favvv concubine) ; heian era true form sukuna ; references to previous sexual activities ; references to previous cannibalism (canon sukuna activities) ; reader is a bit cheeky ; more or less fluff (as fluffy as you can get with true form sukuna, at least)

Sukuna should eat you. You wouldn’t be the first concubine he’s devoured. Probably not the last, either. Instead, he waits impatiently for you to arrive at his chambers.

Finally, there’s a knock on his door.

“Enter,” he commands.

“You’ve summoned for me, my lord?” Comes your obedient reply as you slowly, cautiously step in. You study him for a fleeting moment, only relaxing slightly once you realize he doesn’t seem angered.

“I did. Come.”

That’s all he says…because, well, how is Sukuna meant to explain he’s summoned you here to lay beside him?

(It’s your fault, actually—this pathetic and abominable desire stems from your doing alone. You’re a tad bit bolder amongst the concubines, a bit more expressive in your desires than the others dare to be.

Yes, you let him have his way with you, and yes, you hardly complain when he’s less than gentle. Quite the opposite of complain, in fact. But afterwards…well, afterwards, you are needy.

Exceedingly so.

You dare to curl into his chest and tuck yourself against his side, leeching onto the warmth of his body like a parasite he should kill for the audacity. But…there is something about the way you speak in that hushed, gentle tone of yours. It’s always coupled by your grin.

That radiant, bright, horrible little grin.

The roses are coming nicely, my lord—though, I’ve pricked more than a few fingers tending to them.

Did you hear my lord? There’s been word that two of the servants have ended their romantic endeavors. How sad, no?

Today I’ve made a little friend, my lord. A small humming bird seems to have attached itself to my side no matter where I go in the gardens. I do hope it’ll visit me again tomorrow.

You tell him everything. Silly, stupid, ridiculous nonsense that you spout from your daringly talkative lips. And he…he listens. He listens well, in fact. He hears every overly detailed recount of your day and somehow, for some odd reason, he doesn’t seem to forget the useless information you insist of badgering him with.

And he’s grown accustomed. It’s your doing, he realizes—you’ve forced him into a routine he now finds too habitual to fall into.)

“Yes, my lord,” is all you say to his orders, walking closer to him where he lays sprawled on his bed. Without wasting a moment, you begin to undress yourself, letting your robes fall past your shoulders and begin to expose the beginnings of your chest.

He grunts in irritation before saying, “I did not summon you here for that.”

“O-oh,” you quickly pull your clothes to cover yourself, almost like that small bit of cleavage has left you more exposed than you’ve ever been. You don’t meet his eyes, staring at your feet in embarrassment as you mumble, “My sincerest apologies, my lord. I…I was under the assumption you had summoned me for your usual desires, so—”

“Enough,” he silences you. You quickly close your mouth. (Such a talkative one, you are. He’s always noticed this about you). “Come.”

This time, he gestures ever so slightly to the empty space beside him on his bed. So slightly, that you’d think it took every inch of his efforts to gather enough willpower and set aside his pride to invite you over.

You hesitantly walk over, seating yourself on the edge of the mattress beside him as you look over at him in utter confusion—and then, as you let out a sharp gasp, a strong hand grabs your wrist while the neighboring arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to lay draped across his chest the way you usually like to.

It feels odd, he notes, having you pressed against him with your clothes in the way. He’s used to your nude, bare figure. Perhaps he should have allowed you to disrobe, after all—but having you like this, regardless of being dressed or not, is already much better than before.

He’s almost infuriated by how much easier he can rest when you’re tucked against him.

“M-my lord?” Your voice quivers in shock, looking up at him in more confusion than fear.

He likes the fact that there isn’t as much fear as he expected. Odd, he thinks to himself faintly, Sukuna loves the feeling of being feared.

He decides not to dwell too much on it for the sake of his own peace for now as he grunts, “Sleep. If you don’t wish to be eaten.”

Silently, you relax against his body, molding into him the way you do in that post coital way you’ve gotten him accustomed to. Such a pointless, meaningless gesture that you always seem hell bent on seeking out—somehow, in some way, now you’ve got him doing the same.

He really should eat you.

“You know,” you murmur, giggling quietly, “It’s a bit funny.”

“What is?” He asks dangerously. Still, you don’t fear him.

He’s starting to question a bit whether you’re plain stupid or smarter than you let on. Do you lack fear because you’re ignorant to his evils? Or are you smart enough to realize something keeps him from harming you?

Even he’s unsure of the answer.

“I was just thinking about how nice it is to sleep surrounded by your warmth when the servant informed that you had sent for me,” you hum, “It makes for easy rest, you see. It’s almost as though you’ve read my mind.

He’s silent. And then, “You talk a lot,” comes his gruff reply.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I shall be quiet if that is what you wish—”

“I did not say to stop,” he responds, slightly agitated. (Why, he has to question, is he so agitated by the prospect of your silence? Surely…surely he can’t enjoy your incessant blabbering.)

“Oh,” you perk up. “I see.”

Instantly, that radiant, bright smile stretches across your features again. You don’t belong beside such a dark, evil spirit such as himself—but, he thinks, you will never get away with escaping him. Ever.

Not that you’ve ever given even an inkling of suspicion that you’d like to, but resolutely, he decides you will never be free of him.

“My lord?” You whisper, breaking him of his thoughts.

“What.”

His grunt is more of a command than a question. You seem rather fond all the same.

“Is there something on your mind? You seem…deep in thought, you know.” Gently, boldly, you reach over, thumb delicately smoothing over the crinkles between his furrowed brows.

He glances down at you for a moment through the corners of his eyes. The slight mischief in your pupils answers his earlier question—you’re smart. Infinitely so.

You’ve long come to the conclusion that Sukuna can never muster up the desire to see you in harms way. Especially not by his hand.

It slightly eases him to know you are aware, but it puts him in a deeply sour mood just as much.

“Sleep,” he grumbles, tugging you closer with a tightening of his arm around your waist, “You talk too much, woman.”

He just needs a little cuddle to go sleep 🥹 <- me babyfying the worst man ever (but he’s MY worst man ever)

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[weeping-statue]

YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHINGG

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I GOT THIS LEMME COOK🫶

“I Don’t Care What You Think As Long As It’s About Me.”

I don’t care- fallout boy

Richard Sterling x AFAB!Reader

A little long 😔 also Richard fans please!!! Lemme know if this is good!!! I need feedback guys cause then I just think my work is buns😞

Positive and negative (politely) feedback is appreciated 🫶

So from what I saw, or should I say what we saw, we definitely know he’s a manipulator.

For whatever reason, you caught his eye, probably because you had money, but anyways, he knew he had to have you. All to himself. He doesn’t like to share. And he doesn’t play nice.

It started off gently with flirty lines and kind gestures to mask what he was really planning. And you almost could tell. He had this feeling to him that something just wasn’t right. But he was kind and surely you were just overthinking.

Spoiler, you were wrong.

So wrong.

He had approached you one day after he felt like he had done enough for you to favor him, and confessed. Reaching his hand out to you.

“Ah my dear, you’re special.. and I must have you. Please, give me your hand, let me court you properly.”

But you declined, respectfully, it didn’t feel right.

Richard looked at you a little stunned. What..? You were supposed to say “yes.” Not “no.” What was wrong with you? He had done so much to make you fall and you’ve declined him? This.. no he wasn’t going to stand for this. He grabbed the nearest object and whacked you in the head with it. Hard enough for you to black out.

When you awoken dazed and confused, with a pounding headache. You saw him brushing your hair with his fingers. A light ‘comforting’ smile sketched on his face. You couldn’t remember much, and looked at him with those curious eyes, asking him what had happened. To which he answered,

“Just a little tumble, my love. When I couldn’t catch you in time, I was devastated. But that doesn’t matter anymore, you’re fine now, and we are in due time to be joined in matrimony.”

You nodded and leaned into his touch. He seemed to care about you, and with your current situation you had to trust him. For now.

Months had gone by and you hadn’t a clue you were saddled in a relationship made of lies.

Richard during this definitely acted a tad suspicious. Either love bombing you or keeping you at an odd distance. Getting overly paranoid and possessive when any males come by you. Simple conversations or not. He’d have rules in place for you, making you heavily dependent on him. Though when he’d get annoyed he’d push you away without a second thought, not apologizing.

What a confusing(red flag)guy

So finally here is where the song comes into play <3

Richard was acting a bit more paranoid than usual. Biting his lip till it bled, pulling at his hair, biting his nails, and mumbling to himself as he stalked you from a distance. He watched as you and Kevin hung out, talking aimlessly about the previous matches. He was flirty and touchy, and loud, and obnoxious. Something that didn’t belong around you. You, in his eyes, were something from the heavens. You deserved better. You deserved him. In a moment of paranoia and anger he came from the shadows he hid in and grabbed you by the arm, whisking you away. Closing the door to the nearest room which happened to be the library. His hands gripping your shoulders as slammed you against the books, leaning down with a crazed look, mumbling to you,

“Say my name and his in the same breath. I dare you to say they taste the same. How he can compare to me. He doesn’t love you, not like I do. He’s a no good, scoundrel, liar and fiend. Unworthy of your attention. These friends you have, don’t love you. They only love your generosity.”

For the rest of the day you were attached to him and he didn’t let you out of his sight for a moment. Even taking it as far to move into your room for the night. Claiming he didn’t trust the people in the manor.

All while poor Kevin was so confused😞

Sorry Kevin, your no fiend <3

trust ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

————————————————-

Sorry Kevin lovers for doing your man like that😞 BUT let me have redemption if you bring me a Kevin fic idea..? Or.. perchance headcanons..? ANYWAYS LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

[argentiluver]

Cowboy || Boothill x G/N Child! Reader (PLATONIC) - Honkai Star Rail

After he had lost his precious daughter during the IPC attack on his planet, it was no surprise Boothill would be oddly overprotective over his dear ones. Especially over you.

You were a child much like Boothill’s daughter, but you being only a tad bit older since she was only a few months old at the time. Once you had came in, Boothill made a silent vow to himself that he would protect you like you were his child, not even letting you out of his sight for a second. He just didn’t want to lose you like he lost his little girl is all!

Which was quite ironic as he had first met you through aiming his revolver at your head, thinking you were someone here to collect his bounty, only to see it was literally just a kid. He still remembers the way you almost passed out. Poor you.

So no wonder Boothill almost lost it when he noticed your tiny footsteps weren’t heard behind him anymore, what’s left of his heart instantly dropping.

Panic struck as he looked around frantically, cursing (or at least trying to) himself out for not keeping a closer eye on you while a million thoughts of what could possibly happen without his supervision on you raced through his head.

What if you had gotten seriously hurt?

What if something—or someone—took you?

What if you were stuck somewhere, stranded with a bunch of people you didn’t even know?

It was odd to see the infamous Galaxy Ranger; Boothill getting all worked up and worried over some missing kid. Why’d he care so much anyway? Was it something about you? Did he just oddly grow attached?

Or did he simply view you as someone he once cradled before it was snatched away from him abruptly?

“Mr. Boothill!”

Instantly, Boothill stopped in his tracks, pausing his search for you and spinning his head towards the familiar small voice. There you were; all safe and sound, but with tears falling down your chubby cheeks as you raced over to him.

Boothill dropped to his metallic-like knees and caught you in his arms tightly, feeling your tight grip around his shoulders as you hugged him, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I told ya not to wander off, didn’t I? To stay close to me? You could’ve gotten hurt all alone like that, you lil’ brat…” Boothill would lightly scold you, standing up while lifting you in his arms, holding you close and pinching your cheek in a scolding matter.

His grip around you was tight as if he were worried that if he let go—you’d vanish without a trace.

A hiccup left you in response, struggling to put your words together to which Boothill began to rub the small of your back as a way to calm you down, “I-I didn’t mean to…! I-I just really wanted that plushie—hiccup—over there…!” Boothill watched as your shaky finger tried pointing in the direction of the toy stand, pointing in the wrong direction in the process. But he still knew what you were referring to.

You were clearly referring to that cowboy plushie you spotted while you were walking with Boothill earlier, the one that you couldn’t avert your gaze from which Boothill also called “just a mini, knock-off” version of him. It’s quite obvious that you only wanted it because it reminded you of Boothill.

“But-but when I looked back to you, you weren’t there anymore…!”

You broke out in another fit of sobs, hugging his neck tighter, your cheeks all stained with your tears, and your nose stuffy. Your head was even beginning to throb from how much you were crying.

“You mean that little cowboy you kept lookin’ at? You got your own real-life cowboy though, don’t you?”

“Nuh-uh! I want the plushie, so I can have two of you!”

At your silly words, Boothill had to bite his lip from letting out a snicker, knowing you’d probably get even more upset, and instead decided to indulge you, “Fine, if you want it so bad that you nearly made me pop a screw, I’ll buy you it.” Boothill reassures, wiping that small tear threatening to slip down your cheek away with his cold hand. You can only sniffle and quietly nod in a meek way, rubbing your eyes.

Before Boothill can move however, you suddenly cupped his cheeks with your small hands which was pretty much the only part of his body he can feel you touch, causing him to pause and look down at you. You knocked your head against his and mumbled, “You’re my real papa, Boothill…My only papa…” You ask with a small sniffle, patting his cheeks.

Boothill stood there, stunned for a brief second before he quickly regained his composure, and sent you a toothy smile that showed off his razor sharp teeth, “What a sweet lil’ thing you are…You certainly got a way with words, don’t you?” He ruffled your hair and placed his hat directly on your head to which it fell right over your eyes, causing you to quickly try and adjust it with a small yelp as Boothill made his way over to the stand you were whining about.

This time, he was sure he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight—no matter how much you whine for him to let you run around. He already lost one kid of his, he can’t lose another one.

clara and svarog 2.0 fr

[bloodyinkandquill]

Windforce x Reader cuddling/sleeping

drabble time!! as mentioned last time i did one of these DO NOT request a drabble i do them when i really want to they will be rare and again i don’t do them if requested:]

—

“Why do you do that?” Windforce questioned in her normal booming tone of voice. She was talking in reference to you preparing to sleep, putting on comfier clothing and fluffing your pillows.

“Why do I… sleep?” You asked in turn, with a confused quirk of your head as you questioned her question.

“Yeah, you don’t need to do why do you? I don’t see any point to it,” She replied with a huff. It is true you didn’t need to but you enjoyed doing so, it was a nice break and it was warm and comfortable.

“…Well how about you try it and maybe you’ll see why I like it!” You suggested with a smile, you weren’t sure if she’d agree but hey it was worth a shot.

Much to your surprise she grumbled and plopped down on your bed. Luckily she wasn’t in her bulky armor at the moment instead in more casual clothes, a black tank top and gray sweat pants, her outfits when not in her armor were usually monochromatic you noticed. You smiled at her happily sitting next to her on the bed, reaching up to give her a small kiss on the cheek, she blushed a bit looking away but kept her stoic expression.

You pulled back the top blanket, it wasn’t that cold so you figured the one would be fine, besides it was the fluffiest and therefore comfiest blanket. You gestured for her to get under it with you which she did somewhat awkwardly. You laughed slightly but got situated yourself.

“So, what do we do now?” Windforce asked voice gruff as she readjusted, having already dispersed her wings since she could much like her son could.

“Well we could cuddle, and then try and sleep,” you suggested with a slight hopeful tone.

“What does that mean?” She asked surprising you by her not knowing what cuddling was.

“It’s like uh- here let me just,” you cut yourself off man handling the deity to be on her side arms around your back going over your shoulders your own arms wrapped around her waist as you nuzzled into her neck, the hight difference was very obvious in this position but you did your best to also tangle your legs with hers. It was more comfortable than you thought honestly, since she’s such a strong buff woman you figured her mussels would make her less comfortable to cuddle but you were pleasantly surprised by being incorrect. “This is cuddling, is it alright?” You asked checking to see if she was comfortable.

“You’re telling me I could have been holding you like this the whole time?!” She shouted in a not quite mad voice, it made you laugh that she enjoyed it so much making you finish snuggling into her head in a comfortable position. She readjusted slightly too to be more comfortable herself and held you a tad tighter, but not enough to squeeze you.

“Okay just close your eyes now and try to not move, let your body relax, and be comfortable, try to also not think a bunch, just let your mind wonder but don’t think too much about what comes to mind. That should let you fall asleep,” you instructed trying your best to explain how sleeping worked. She made a sound of understanding, okay well it was a grunt but you figured it meant she understood, as you closed your own eyes softly.

It was very comfortable and you felt so safe in her arms, the only odd thing was her lack of heart beat, you supposed it made sense but it was still creepy to hear nothing in her chest. Eventually the two of you both fell asleep, warm and close.

A few hours later when you woke up you could tell she was still asleep, you tried to very gently pry her arms off and wiggle your way out of her grasp, unluckily it roused her as one of her eyes opened staring you down intently.

“You are not going anywhere,” Windforce practically commanded, you let out a noise of protest and she just squeezed you closer, you wriggled again to no avail. You sighed giving up on fighting to get out of her arms, you were the one who suggested this now you have to deal with her not wanting to stop.

—

hope you enjoyed! had fun writing it, tried to be neutral with the readers words and actions but i couldn’t help but project myself on them sorry lol, anyways im going to take an hour nap now im tired

[sydsaint]

Drink Prime Baby!!!!

Summary: Logan realizes that he might have a hopeless crush on his manager at the worst possible time. Five minutes before his triple-threat match on Mania weekend.

The alarm on your phone blares from it's spot leaning up against your vanity mirror. 'Mania Time' flashes across the screen in bold letters, reminding you that it's almost time to head out and meet up with Logan.

You finish curling your hair and switch off the curler before grabbing the hairspray and dousing your hair so every curl stays neatly in place. "There." You smile at yourself in the mirror. "Okay. I can clean this up later. Logan is probably waiting for me." You push all of your vanity supplies away from you and silence your alarm.

You pocket away your phone and grab your security badge off the back of the chair before heading to the door. You exit the ladies changing room and head off to find Logan backstage.

After weaving through the hectic backstage are for a while, you spot Logan's business partner and friend, JJ ahead. You quicken your pace and head over to him.

"JJ, hey! Any idea where Logan is at?" You walk up to JJ and greet him.

JJ turns around and flashes a friendly smile at you. "YN, hey. Damn, you're looking nice." He comments on your done-up appearance.

"Well it is Mania weekend." You giggle and flip your hair playfully. "You're looking all done up and nice as well. No prime costume for you this year?" You tease him playfully.

"Logan's got someone else for that this year." JJ chuckles. "And speaking of Logan. There he is now." He nods behind you.

You turn around and spot Logan as he comes into the room looking ready to go. You smile at him and wait for him to head over to you and JJ.

"Logan! There you are, champ! How are you feeling about tonight?" You ask him.

"YN!" Logan reaches your side and gazes down at you, a soft expression plastered on his face.

JJ watches his friend greet you with a larger than life smile. He's known Logan for a long time now, and he doesn't think he's ever seen that twinkle in Logan's eyes before. It's a bit odd to watch.

"Of course I'm ready!" Logan nods at you with a confident smile. "Wow, you look great, by the way." He adds in a genuine tone, his voice fluxuating a tad.

"Thanks, Logan." You grin back at him with a slight flush to your cheeks. "Now remember what we discussed, alright? Let Randy and Kevin do all the heavy lifting. They might be acting like friends right now. But that wont last long." You remind him, switching over to work mode for a moment.

Logan nods. "I got it." He assures you with a smile. "You aint worried about me? Are you YN?" He teases you jokingly. "You going to hang out back here with JJ?" He adds. "Offer still stands to come hang out with me and my new Prime guy."

"Yeah! I'll see you on the other side, YN!" Logan matches your energy before strutting over to the curtain.

"I'm alright." You shake your head. "And no. I'm not worried about you. You've got this. As always." You assure him. "Go get 'em tiger! You got this!" You pat his shoulder and offer one last confidence-boosting smile.

Your hand lingers on Logans arm for a second longer than needed. JJ takes notice of this and raises his eyebrows slightly.

JJ watches silently as Logan disappears through the curtain. He stands for a moment and watches Logan's entrance on the monitors before he turns to you.

"How long have you and Logan been working together, YN?" JJ asks you curiously.

You turn away from the monitors to answer JJ's question with a small shrug. "Umm, almost a year I think." You answer him.

"Right. You too are so close! It seems like longer." JJ chuckles. "The two of you make a good team." He adds.

"Thanks!" You beam. "I try my best. But to be honest, Logan does most of the work." You joke.

JJ laughs again and nods. The two of you go back to watching the match on the monitors for a while. You move through a whole mixed-bag of emotions during Logan's match. Something that JJ can't help but pick up on.

"You dating anyone right now, YN?" JJ asks you seemingly out of the blue.

"What? Umm, no. Not at the moment." You turn to JJ with a surprised look on your face. "Why? You trying to hit on me, JJ?" You joke with a quirked brow.

JJ rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head. "I was just curious." He insists before turning back to the monitors.

"Okay." You nod and do the same.

You and JJ watch the rest of Logan's match. Logan ends up picking up the win and you jump for joy! JJ laughs to himself as he realizes something. His best friend has a thing for you. And you might just feel the same way.

Logan comes through the curtain a few minutes later pouring sweat with his title belt slung over his shoulder. "You won!" You rush over to him in excitement. "I knew you could do it, Logan!" You dive in for a hug but Logan puts a hand out and stops you.

"Woah there!" Logan stops you from making contact with him. "Easy now, YN. I am covered in sweat right now." He points to himself. "You come any closer and you're going to be soaked as well. And you look way to nice right now to be messing that up." He chuckles.

"Right." You laugh at yourself and drop your outstretched arms back to your sides. "We at least have to take a picture to commemorate this moment." You retrieve your phone from your pocket.

Logan nods in agreement and leans down to your level so you can snap a picture with him. You take the photo and go to post it on your socials while Logan walks over to JJ to chat for a minute.

The best friends and business partners greet one-another and shake hands.

"Congrats, man." JJ greets his friend with a proud smile. "How you feeling right about now?" He asks Logan.

"I'm great, man!" Logan chuckles. "Riding that high after that win, man!"

JJ nods and glances over at you on your phone a few feet away. He turns back to Logan and decides that he's got to give his friend a little push in the right direction.

"It sure would be the icing on the cake if you finally got around to bagging the girl too, huh?" He asks Logan, nodding toward you at the same time.

"The girl?" Logan replies in confusion. "What? Who? ....YN?" He turns around to you still typing away on your phone.

You look up from your phone at the mention of your name and look over at Logan and JJ. "Yeah?" You put your phone away and turn your attention to the pair. "What's up you two?" You ask them.

"Nothing." Logan replies sharply. "JJ's just giving me a hard time is all." He adds jokingly.

"Alright." You nod. "They want us for the media scrum after the show, by the way." You add, turning back to Logan. "Do you want to go cool off before they need us?" You ask him.

Logan nods and adjusts the title on his shoulder. "Yeah, that'd be good. You want to hold onto this for me?" He takes the title off his shoulder and offers it to you. "I'd rather you hold onto it than let JJ get his grubby hands on it." He jokes.

"Sure." You giggle and take the belt.

JJ and Logan head back to the locker rooms and you hang around backstage and wait for them to come back. While waiting you secure Logans title around your waist while game-planning some PR stuff for later.

Back in the locker room JJ confronts Logan while he's cooling off and getting changed.

"Logan, man. About earlier. I didn't mean anything about the whole YN thing." He tries to clean things up the best he can. "Its just...we've been friends for a while man. And I don't think I've ever seen you look at a girl like you look at her."

Logan bows his head, gaze casted to the floor and an awkward silence falls over the room. JJ sits silently and waits for Logan to answer him.

It takes Logan a couple of minutes, but he does eventually come up with an answer to JJ's accusation. "I don't know man..." Logan rubs the back of his neck. "YN...she's great. Pretty and super smart. And so good at what she does." He smiles to himself. "I don't think I'd even be a champion right now without her."

JJ laughs and pats Logan on the arm. "It sounds to me like you've got it bad buddy." He chuckles. "So why haven't you told her how you feel?"

"I don't know man." Logan sighs. "I guess because I don't know if she feels the same." He admits. "I don't want to lose her. I can't do this job without her at my side." His gaze drops to the floor again.

JJ can't help but laugh again. It's like something out of one of those cheesey romance movies his girlfriend is always dragging him to see. Logan looks up and frowns at him when he starts laughing and JJ has to take a minute to compose himself.

"What's so funny?" Logan huffs at JJ.

"Nothing man." JJ wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Logan, man. She's into you. Trust me on that, mate." He assures Logan.

Logan bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head, unsure if JJ is messing with him or not. "Are you sure?" He asks JJ. "You really think that I should tell her how I feel?"

"Yes!" JJ hops to his feet. "Come on! Put a shirt on! Then wipe that pathetically nervous look off your face, head outside, and go kiss your manager!" He hypes Logan up.

"Okay okay!" Logan chuckles and does as he's told.

JJ stands back and walks his pep-talk at work. Logan throws his shirt on and strides out of the room in search of you. Logan weaves his way through the backstage area with JJ hot on his heels. He finally spots you hanging out in almost the same spot he left you in earlier. You are leaned against the wall casually and typing on your phone. Logan's title belt is secured neatly around your waist as you wait for him to come back.

"Holy shit." Logan freezes up when he gets a glimpse of you with his title, all his confidence suddenly gone from his body.

JJ comes up behind Logan and sets a hand on his shoulder. "You got this man." He assures Logan before giving him a small shove forward.

Logan stumbles forward and swallows hard. He stumbles over a few words before coming up to you with an awkward, "Hey, YN."

"Hmm?" You look up from your phone. "Oh, there you are! And you look nice and fresh now!" You grin and playfully reach up to ruffle Logan's fluffy hair.

"Yeah." Loga chuckles nervously. "You make one hell of a champion, you know that?" He adds, gesturing down to his title.

You giggle and blush a bit before moving to hand it back to Logan. But he stops you before you can reach back and undo the latch. "YN, there's something that I need to tell you." He explains.

"Okay." You nod, arms dropping back to your sides. "What's up? You look nervous." You recognize the uncharacteristic look of nervousness on Logan's face.

Logan rubs the back of his neck again as he tries to search for the right words to say. "I know that we've been working together for almost a year now. And you've been the best manager that I could has asked for." He smiles at you. "But the truth is...I don't know if I can go on acting like that's all you are to me anymore."

Your heart skips a beat as Logan reaches dow ad grabs your hand tentatively. You've been keeping a hapless crush on your favorite blond media star for so long now. And he here is, confessing that he feels the same way that you do about him.

It's like a dream come true. And you aren't sure what to do.

You lock eyes with Logan, breath caught in your throat. Neither of you are willing to move a muscle, both of you too scared to make a move.

"Will you just kiss the poor sap already, YN!" JJ shouts from across the room and a smile cracks on your face. You take JJ's advice and grab a fistful of Logan's shirt before yanking him down to your level.

You crash your lips to Logan's and feel him smile against your lips. His hands snake around your waist and slide up your back before pulling you into him as close as he can. JJ cheers playfully for the two of you, and a couple of bystanders chime in playfully.

You break away from Logan once your lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen. You let go of his shirt and wrap your arms around his neck breathlessly.

"This doesn't mean that you're done being m manager, right?" Logan asks you playfully.

"Not a chance." You giggle. "I'm your ride or die now, Logan Paul." You grin and lean up for another kiss.

Logan happily kisses you again, gentler this time. "That makes me one lucky son-of-a-bitch." He grins.

[itoshi-s]

anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

[innocent-artery]

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. Reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to valentine's day - a spotify playlist by me!

~

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

~

[xomakara]

Body & Soul

SUMMARY | You just want to have sex with Johnny but Doyoung keeps interferring so you and Johnny try to convince Doyoung into having a threesome. PAIRINGS | Johnny/Fem!Reader/Doyoung GENRE | non-idol au, smut with no plot, unprotected sex, oral sex, threesome RATING | Mature LENGTH | 3,445 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I honestly don’t know how this turned out lol. I’ve written mentions of threesomes and group sex, but tbh, this is the first time i’ve written an actual threesome scene. Hope it turned out okay hahaha. Plus, i’ve ran out of ideas for titles…

"Babe, what are you staring at?"

You couldn't help but stare and bite your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend scratch his shoulder. Normally it wouldn't faze you but for some odd reason, Johnny decided to scratch his shoulder with his hands under his sweater, his bulging abs on display for all the world to see.

"Nothing," you stammered, "I was just... um... seeing if I could read anything."

He smiled at you and you blushed in embarrassment. It was no secret that Johnny loved showing off his body. He worked hard in the gym almost every day and after months of working out, he looked amazing. His perfect body turned heads wherever he went, and even girls were starting to pay attention to him. You weren't going to deny that it made you a tad bit jealous seeing all these girls ogle over him. But then again, who didn't get jealous watching their significant other be so sexy?

Johnny noticed you staring at his stomach and chuckled. "What? What is it babe?"

You stood up and slowly walked towards him, running your hands under his sweater. Your fingers ran along the smooth skin, which was turning hot from the friction. He leaned into you and nibbled on your earlobe before giving it a small bite.

"I don't know babe," you said, your voice husky from lust. "Why don't you show me exactly what I'm looking at?"

With that he stood up and grabbed you by the hand. In one swift motion he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter and positioned himself between your legs. He leaned his head down to kiss you and when you reached out to unbutton his jeans-

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" You heard a yell and broke the kiss. You turned to look at Doyoung, covering his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. "If ya'll are gonna fuck, then do it in your bedroom."

Johnny quickly buttoned his pants while you stared at Doyoung and let out an embarrassed laugh. "Ha, you caught us."

"You were home the whole time, Doyoung?" You muttered as you hopped off the counter.

"Yeah, I've been home for about an hour already." Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Now I know you two are always horny for each other but can't you two think about your poor roommate's eyes before you start fucking in our shared space?"

"Yeah yeah," Johnny sighed, leaning against the counter next to you. "We're sorry. Are you okay though?"

Doyoung nodded, rubbing at his temple. "Yeah, it's just been a long day at the office. My boss keeps giving me more work and I'm swamped. Luckily my team is pretty good but sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. So to make matters worse I came home to find you two about to screw each other in my face. Not cool."

You laughed and hugged Doyoung. "Well, we are sorry about that. I guess there isn't much we can do but apologize. So do you want something to eat or drink?"

"Ugh, can I just have water please?" Doyoung rubbed his temples again. "Also, give me a second to wash up and I will join you guys."

After Doyoung left the room, you and Johnny walked back into the living room. You sat down on the couch and he put a blanket around you, tucking it in around your shoulders.

"It's freezing in here," you groaned, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. "Why didn't you turn on the heater?"

"Hm, well..." He took a seat next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He rubbed your back gently, sending chills through your entire body. "...it's not quite cold enough for the heater yet."

You bit your lower lip as he leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

"Don't you ever stop teasing me," you whispered.

His hand moved up from your waist to caress your cheek. "Never."

As you turned your head to meet his lips, Doyoung walked into the room, shaking his head. "I fucking hate you two."

Johnny laughed. "You know you can always join us. I'm sure Y/N doesn't mind. Right, babe?"

You laughed and nudged him. "Yeah, Doyoung. I'm sure Johnny doesn't mind sharing me. Right?"

Johnny let out a loud roar of laughter.

"Wow," Doyoung said quietly, still shocked. "Are you two serious or just joking with me? Please tell me that you two aren't actually serious."

Johnny let out another booming laugh. "Well why would we joke about something like this?"

Doyoung groaned loudly and sat down on the floor. "I have a headache now."

You felt bad for Doyoung because he didn't deserve to deal with your crazy sex life. Ever since you started dating Johnny, you couldn't keep your hands off of him. Even when he had just woken up, you would touch his naked body, feeling his muscles ripple underneath your fingertips.

When he got dressed, you would watch him as he adjusted his clothes, checking his own body out. If you saw any signs of imperfection, you would immediately run your hands over them, making sure they were smooth and perfect. Then, when he finally arrived home from work, you two would make love for hours. Every time you woke up, you'd find yourself lying on top of Johnny, having no memory of how you got there. And every night, you would dream of being fucked by Johnny, only waking up in a puddle of sweat.

To say you were obsessed with your boyfriend wasn't even close to the truth. It was more like an addiction. Every single part of him called to you. From his luscious lips to his beautiful brown eyes. All you wanted was to spend your life with him. He was your world.

Doyoung sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "This conversation has officially gone too far. Just let me sleep. I need to clear my head."

"Of course, Doyoung-ah," you said softly, rubbing his arm. "You should go rest."

"Thank you," he replied, standing up. He stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

After he left the room, you glanced over at Johnny. He gave you a seductive smile and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Sorry, babe. I can't help myself sometimes."

You laughed. "Me neither."

He laughed louder, throwing his head back. You giggled as you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his chest.

"Do you really mean that? About you sharing me?" You asked softly.

"Only if it's Doyoung." Johnny kissed you. "Any other guy, I would never share you."

You kissed him back, pulling away. "I love you."

"Love you too," he replied, kissing you again.

The following day, you spent most of your time reading books. Doyoung came home early and asked if you wanted to grab lunch. Of course, you said yes. After he ate his sandwich, he mentioned that you hadn't been eating very much lately and was concerned about your health. You assured him that you were fine but that you were taking vitamins to ensure your health.

The two of you talked for hours until he suggested that you take a walk around the neighborhood. Once you both finished eating, you headed out, bundled up against the chilly weather. The breeze whipped around you and covered you in goosebumps. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy. Maybe you needed to stop reading so many books and spend more time outside enjoying nature.

When you returned home, Johnny was sitting on the couch, watching TV. You walked over and plopped down next to him, snuggling up against his side.

"How was your walk?" He asked.

"It was nice," you answered, closing your eyes. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all, babe."

"Thanks, Johnny," you said, resting your head on his chest. "You're the best."

A few moments later, Johnny began playing with your hair. You moaned softly as his fingers tickled the nape of your neck.

"Mmm, that feels nice," you said.

"Good," he responded, moving his hand down to cup your ass. "Your cute butt makes everything feel better."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Oh, you know it does."

You closed your eyes as he continued to play with your hair, lightly stroking it. You could hear the TV behind you but ignored it as he began lightly kissing your jawline.

His hand slid down your stomach, coming to a halt at the top of your thigh. Slowly, he dragged his fingers up and down, causing you to shiver with anticipation. Before long, he pushed his hand under your shirt and slowly slid it under your bra, tracing circles over your nipple. You sucked in a breath as your nipple hardened and the pressure grew stronger, begging for release.

You pulled away from Johnny, breaking the kiss. "Doyoung is in hi-"

"Don't worry, baby," he cut you off, kissing your lips once more. "Even though he cusses us out, it's not like he hasn't seen a pair of tits before. Trust me, he won't mind."

You opened your mouth to respond but then stopped yourself. Was Doyoung going to come in and catch you two having sex? Would he call you out on it? Would he freak out and storm out of the apartment? Or maybe he wouldn't even care. That's what you had hoped for anyway.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to Johnny's, forcing your tongue into his mouth. His moan made you grin wickedly and yank his shirt up, freeing his bare chest. Your hands ran over his toned abs, feeling his hard muscle ripple beneath your fingertips. With each pass, your arousal increased, pulsing within your panties. Finally, you pressed your fingers against his pants, slowly opening them.

Before long, you found yourself working your fingers under his boxers, ready to pull his stiff dick out. But before you could, you heard the door open and froze.

"What the hell are you doing, Johnny?" Doyoung shouted, startling you. "And you, you better not be pulling his dick out of his pants."

"Damn it, Doyoung!" You whined. "Why do you have to be such a cockblocker? Can't I fuck my boyfriend in the comfort of my own home? I have needs!"

"I have needs too," Doyoung retorted.

"Then why don't you just join us Doyoung?" Johnny asked. "Wouldn't you rather have some pussy than not have any? Can't you see how Y/N is practically dying for it?"

"Please, Doyoung?" You whined. "I'm so fucking horny that I don't even care whose dick I get anymore."

Doyoung sighed loudly and stepped towards the two of you. He stared down at you for a moment, his gaze intense. "Fine. Go ahead and do whatever you want."

You bit your bottom lip as you reached for Doyoung's belt buckle. As soon as your fingers touched his skin, he grabbed your wrist. "Wait, Y/N."

"I've waited too long, Doyoung-ah," you replied. "Let me have my fun. At least let me have a taste."

Doyoung looked at Johnny. "Are you sure you want to share your girlfriend with me? You'll probably end up regretting it later."

Johnny let out a chuckle. "If I wasn't fine with it then I wouldn't have suggested you join us in the first place. So please, sit down, shut the fuck up, and let Y/N suck your dick."

With that, Doyoung sat down on the couch, glaring at the two of you. You smiled at him, unable to contain your excitement as you crawled towards him, pushing his legs apart. When you reached his lap, you unbuttoned his jeans, revealing his already hard dick. Your breath caught as you looked down at it, watching as it twitched slightly.

Doyoung placed his hand on your head and directed you to his throbbing member. As soon as you wrapped your lips around his shaft, he moaned. With one hand, he held your head, guiding you as you bobbed your head up and down, getting a feel for his size. His scent was intoxicating, sending a wave of desire through your body. Without thinking, you tightened your grip on his dick and began sucking harder.

Johnny watched as you sucked Doyoung off, unable to believe how sexy his girlfriend was. Every time she pulled her mouth off of his dick, her cheeks would puff out as if she was panting. The sight of her face covered in saliva was driving him wild, especially since he knew it would lead to something else.

When you started sucking him with more force, Johnny turned to Doyoung. "Does that feel good?" He whispered.

"Fuck yeah," Doyoung grunted, tightening his grip on the back of your head. "So damn hot."

You grinned and moved your head down his shaft, licking at his balls. They tasted salty but sweet at the same time. It was almost too much for him to handle. As his dick swelled further in your mouth, you took it as an opportunity to tease him. After taking his entire length into your mouth, you pulled your mouth off and began licking the tip, causing Doyoung to groan loudly.

"How do you like his dick, baby?" Johnny asked you, his voice deep and raspy.

"Tastes delicious," you answered, letting your tongue trace circles around his head.

"God, Y/N," Doyoung breathed, leaning back.

"Look at how fucking sexy you look sucking his dick. Are you gonna suck mine like this?" Johnny asked.

Before you could answer, you felt Johnny's hand wrap around your waist. He pushed down your shorts, exposing your soaked panties. You gasped and lifted your hips, allowing him to pull them down.

"You didn't think I'd forget about this, did you?" He asked, gently running his finger across your clit.

"No, Johnny," you whispered, raising your hips higher as his finger brushed against your sensitive bud.

"Finish sucking Doyoung off, baby." Johnny muttered, pressing his finger harder against your pussy.

In response, you wrapped your lips around Doyoung's shaft again, making sure to lick his balls along the way. When you started sucking harder, Doyoung groaned, trying to fight back his orgasm. Suddenly, Johnny leaned forward and licked your inner thigh, causing you to jump. You looked at him questioningly but he just grinned at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He trailed his tongue up your leg, finally reaching your wet center.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, raising your hips to meet his tongue. Within seconds, he was attacking your clit, sucking on it as he swirled his tongue around it. You felt as if you were going to burst right there. Even though Doyoung was being pleasured by your talented mouth, you couldn't stop thinking about how big and hard Johnny's cock must be.

"Whose dick do you want first, Y/N?" Johnny asked, still licking at your pussy. "Doyoung's? Mine's?"

Suddenly, you felt Doyoung lean back, freeing his cock from your mouth. When you looked up at him, you saw him gazing intently at you. His brown eyes glittered and he ran his thumb over his mouth. You weren't quite sure what he meant but decided to take matters into your own hands. Standing up, you straddled Doyoung's lap, sliding his hard cock inside of you.

You groaned as Doyoung rubbed your thighs, causing you to bounce up and down on his lap. With every thrust, his dick filled you up more and more. He wasn't quite as big as Johnny but it felt great nonetheless.

Doyoung pulled out momentarily before moving your body to face Johnny. He slid you back unto his cock, hands at your waist, your breasts bouncing up and down. Johnny licked his lips as he watched you ride Doyoung, his eyes glued to your pretty face. From the corner of your eye, you could see Doyoung smiling at the sight of you enjoying yourself.

After undressing himself, Johnny held out his dick to you. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he wanted you to suck him while Doyoung was busy thrusting into you. "Come on, baby. I know you want to suck me off. Fuck, you look so hot riding his dick."

Without hesitating, you lowered your mouth to his erection, wrapping your lips around his shaft. Johnny groaned loudly as you sucked on his cock, relishing the sound of your lips sliding up and down his length. In response, he cupped your breasts, kneading your soft flesh.

As you felt his dick swell in your mouth, you became even more eager to please him. Soon enough, his member was swelling with blood, becoming harder than ever before. Johnny pushed your hair back and guided your head onto his dick, moaning softly as he slid deeper into your throat. His moans echoed in your ears, making you moan in response.

Doyoung was still thrusting into you, filling you with pleasure. But as he got closer to his climax, you became distracted by the cock in your mouth.

Johnny groaned, looking down at you. "This feels so fucking good. Just look at you sucking my dick."

At that moment, you decided to switch things up, sliding your hand between your legs. Within moments, you were cumming all over Doyoung's cock, squirting juice everywhere.

Doyoung suddenly let out a loud grunt as he came, filling your tight hole with his semen. A second later, Johnny began pumping his load into your mouth, giving you more to swallow than you thought possible.

Once they finished, Doyoung collapsed onto the couch, leaving you alone with Johnny. For a moment, you didn't know what to say or do, other than stare into his gorgeous hazel eyes. Slowly, your fingers trailed up his neck, tracing little circles against his jawline.

"Johnny, I need you now." You whispered, running your tongue over his earlobe.

He nodded, placing his hands on your ass, lifting you up onto his lap. His eyes were heavy with lust as he lined his dick up with your dripping wet pussy. "Doyoung wasn't enough? Do you want more?"

"More than anything," you replied. "You're the only one who can satisfy me right now."

Johnny smirked and slowly entered you, watching as you moaned. As his dick stretched you open, you instinctively reached down, grasping his ass. "Ahh, fuck yes," Johnny groaned. "You're so fucking tight."

You bit your lip, grinding your hips into his as he fucked you harder. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Make me cum, Johnny," you begged, tilting your hips upwards.

"Oh fuck," Johnny grunted, slamming into you. "Baby, did you like it when Doyoung fucked you? Did you love feeling him bury his dick inside of you?"

"Yes," you panted. "Fuck, I loved it."

"And you loved being fucked by me, right?" Johnny asked, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them roughly. "Did you like feeling me fill you with my dick? Tell me, Y/N."

Your reply was cut short as Johnny pounded into you faster, speeding up until he was fucking you relentlessly.

The next thing you knew, you were cumming yet again. Not only had Johnny filled you with his seed, but Doyoung had filled you with his. It was such an incredible feeling. When your orgasm subsided, you relaxed your hold on Johnny, bringing your head up to kiss him passionately. He moaned as he pressed his forehead against yours, gasping for air.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Johnny staring at you with a soft expression. He placed his hand on your cheek and brushed away a strand of hair that fell in front of your face. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered.

A smile crept across your face as you looked down at him. "I love you, too."

Johnny pulled you close, kissing your nose. You snuggled into his chest, letting the weight of him rest on top of you. As he caressed your bare back, you felt contentment wash over you. This was home.

After awhile, after cuddling in each other's arms, you heard Doyoung get up from the couch. "You know...this was fun. If you need me, I'll be upstairs. Sleep well, guys."

"Goodnight, Doyoung," Johnny said.

Once he left the room, Johnny brought your hands up to his lips, kissing each one. "Are you ready for bed, Y/N?"

"Definitely."

That night, when you closed your eyes, you dreamt of nothing but the man in your arms.

[i2valeri]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ i <3 yang ! for todays shenanigans hani tries to bring valerie to her senses, because she doesn’t ACTUALLY believe a single soul could like her. 蝴蝶 so yang jungwon comes to the rescue.

valerie was definitely anti-social. she really didn’t know how to express her feelings, so it made her feel a tad bit odd in a group of loud introverts or hyper extroverts.

she didn’t force herself into any group hangouts or conversations, but of course her closest co-member, hani, always invited her to stuff without her being able to say no.

“I think val wants to come.”

“val likes those kinds of things.”

“we should invite val.”

valerie always depended on hani as she was 2 years older than her, practically her older sister. she was glad to have someone that could always stay by her side you know? someone that can help her fit in—

“valerie song!” the older girl snapped valerie back to consciousness, they were both sitting on the edge of the bed face to face, “valerie! come on! I can’t always be the one who’s helping you with getting along with your other members!” hani nagged the younger girl, while valerie just sighed.

“easy for you to say. any word that comes out of your mouth, suddenly everyone bursts into laughter.” valerie crossed her arms, kinda disappointed that just this one time, hani wasn’t siding with her.

“it’s not my fault I’m enfp.” hani pouted, valeire was right. the typical extroverted energetic girl who could make anyone laugh with her jokes, someone who was friendly and out going.

in-fact, valerie was the opposite of whatever hani was. valerie was infj, typically described as “INTJs look rather intimidating. INTJs are famous for their death stares.”

exactly what valerie was to almost everyone else.

“most of our members are sociable, val ! trust me ! it’s not hard to get closer with them!” hani held valeries shoulders, shaking her softly. “easy for you to say.”

“what would you do if I’m not there and you guys are together? sit quietly and not even spare a glance…?”

…that was the plan. valerie thought to herself, just giving hani a glance of guilt. “don’t tell me you were thinking it.” she wasn’t ACTUALLY planning to do it.. right?

“…” valerie stayed silent; looking down at the ground like she was taking into consideration, focused on thinking. “fine.” valerie had finally agreed to something, she agreed upon trying to get close to each member one by one.

“oh my god! yes! it will be so worth it when you guys are finally close !!” hani squealed in excitement, “who did you get closest with first? who’s the easiest to get close with?” valerie asked curiously.

“actually. come to think of it, it was jungwon.”

valerie definitely did not expect jungwon to come out of hani’s mouth, jungwon seemed like a quiet introvert, but when she saw him during hangouts and conversations, his personality said otherwise.

but sometimes, jungwon seemed a bit neutral when it came to valerie since she was someone he didn’t know yet personally, “jungwon ?! how am I gonna get close with him ?!” valerie asked in confusion.

“val.. trust me it’s gonna be easy for you—”

“hani. I noticed whenever I passed by jungwon he wouldn’t even spare a glance, when I said hi he would wave slightly and walk away. I swear… that man does not like me!” valerie ranted as hani watched her, waiting for a chance to talk.

“jungwon… doesn’t like you?” hani said in denial, “yes! he obviously doesn’t want to be associated with me.” valerie face planted into her pillow.

“oh my god val! who do you think is the one who’s always asking to bring you into conversations and hangouts? it wasn’t me… it was jungwon who always asked me to bring you into convos!” hani corrected her bestfriend, valerie.

“what?”

“val he wants to be close with you! he is always saying ‘i feel bad for val, i understand she can’t express her feelings. I wish I could talk to her’ yadaydada! that’s what he says val! he wants you to be included!” hani suddenly confessed,

“jungwon was the first person to bring you up in whatever we would do! he’s a caring leader… he loves all of the members! mostly you val… mostly you!” hani nagged the stunned girl.

so it turns out… every time she got invited… it was jungwon who initiated it ?! “wait… so if jungwon never initiated to invite me, would you have not invited me…?”

“of course not! but it was jungwon who always asked me to do it, val he’s shy to talk to you.”

“everyone is! they all like you, but it just seems like you don’t like them.”

“val this might seem straightforward. but they all do love you, they want to be closer with you. they hate the distance, they think your the one distancing from them.”

oh my fucking god! if this is what they think about valerie… what could they be talking about at dance practice right now …. ?!?

⠀

⠀ 🎐 𓂅 我爱你 . . !

⠀

“plan to talk to valerie has now officially started! who wants to start their idea first ?” heeseung stood up on the couch, like they were doing a whole project to finally stop being cowards and talk to valerie.

“what if we invite her to a restaurant and hang out? seems like we could get to know her more like that.” sunghoon smiled softly at the mere thought of overcoming the fear of talking to val.

“you guys are gonna make it awkward of how you don’t even notice her when were are all sitting together in the dining room.” jungwon said from across the room, arms crossed but not that far.

“so in simple terms… we go to her?” jay asked, his hand on his chin, head resting on his hand. “no shit sherlock, how could she go to us ?!” jake playfully hit jay on the shoulder.

“what if we go to her, we could watch a movie. her favorite movie! what’s her favorite movie?” sunoo said, while riki was finishing his sentences. “wait what’s her favorite movie?” riki asked.

“oh that’s hard…” jake thought hard, he thought ‘valerie’ but the sheer thought of val made him giggle and chuckle like a little kid. “I got nothing.” he sighed softly.

“heeseung, do you know?” the zoned out hamster who has still standing on the couch suddenly snapped out of it and turned to jake, “I don’t remember… if she probably ever told us, I was just looking at her most probably.” heeseung scratched his nape in guilt.

“jay? sunghoon? got anything?”

“nope.”

it was decided, the boys knew absolutely… nothing about what valerie liked or what she didn’t liked.. except for one. “guys. it’s dead poets society; she told us !! how can you not remember?”

“ohhhhh yeah” they said in unison, “i guess jungwon has one point score in val’s heart.” sunoo said sarcastic, but the boys obviously didn’t take it as a joke.

“so are we gonna talk to her?” ni-ki asked, the boy was clearly nervous. “what am i gonna do? dress up as a dead poets society character and suddenly we are two peas in a pod?” ni-ki joked around, but he was really in-fact scared to even make eye contact with the girl.

heeseung tapped on his hard notebook, making everyone turn to him. “plan initiated.. operation talk to valerie has now started.”

“if I talk to val I might shit my pants and pass out.. I can’t even look at her!” jake was going CRAZY. and so was everyone else, just by thinking that they were gonna finally talk to val.

thinking of @valerieace ?!

okay I loved this chapter. nd I hope you did too 🫶 if you read this first chapter THIS FAR I love you sososooso much. okay that’s it 🙏

[fatuismooches]

Hoyo drops a Neuvilette dragon-form ladle and expects me to move on just like that? Not a chance.

Okay. Dottore. And fragile!reader who takes a liking in ceramics.

The weakness caused by mysterious sickness got the reader unable to attend to their hobbies as often as they'd have wished to. However, there are days when they feel great and devote their time to their lover. And if Zandik happens to be busy - it's ceramics time!

At first, there were no noticeable changes and Dottore doesn't acknowledge the strange items. It must be Pantalone or Columbina sending prank gifts anyway. But as the time passes, more and more strange items start appearing...

First, it was a the salt and pepper shakers. Instead of normal, tube-like shakers, two one-eyed bird creatures sat on the table. Their shape wasn't completely smooth, some imperfections here and there. The dyes overlapped in some places as well. Dottore knew right away that this wasn't bought from the local market. Why the strange shape, too?

That's when he begins to notice more. There is a ladle that's base takes the shape of the raven head that Dottore carries around his shoulders as a fancy accessory? There are a couple of ceramic bowls and plates that have silly drawings of the segments? The fox-monster-creature with a basket in its paws that serves as a fruit storage?

Dottore is confused. But also amazed.

He will praise the reader how wonderful all of their creations are, even if he finds them a tad bit weird at times. He loves them, really! Zandik will make sure to encourage their beloved to not stop the hobby since it is also good for their health - distraction from illness is always a great thing!

Let's just say Pantalone's bewilderment was immeasurable when he received a report stating that Dottore requests a ton of highest quality clay.

THIS IS SO CUTE... You always had a good amount of hobbies before you got sick, but after the illness, you find that your strength is too sapped to do anything too strenuous. So instead you stick to hobbies that don't require much energy, like reading for example. But that doesn't mean you're just going to give up on your old hobbies! Thankfully you still have good days that you can set aside for ceramics!! You don't bother telling Dottore because you assumed he'd realize it's you once you start sending your creations to him! (You think it's funny that it took him this long to realize, who else would take out the time to give him gifts? Only his dear lover of course!)

Not only are the shakers strange looking and far from perfection, but it is an odd thing to give to the man who barely eats, and when he does, the food is made and seasoned exactly to his liking by you. At least the shakers work...? That's one thing, at least. He doesn't have much use for them, but for some odd reason, he tucks them somewhere in his drawers for safekeeping.

However, more odd things that he would never use end up finding his way on his desk along with the very strange designs. He knows it couldn't be a joke anymore because of the sheer number and time it must have taken to make these things, despite them not being the most professional. There's really only one person he knows who could have done this. One of the plates has a wide pointy grin with red eyes that he can instantly recognize as Beta (Webttore) despite its simpleness. He doesn't think he could ever eat off a plate with that but he is amused by your creations. And also impressed.

First, he's very glad to hear your hands are steady enough to create such things. That is good news! Secondly, seeing you so happy is good for everyone considering your illness often impacts your mental state. Thirdly, he's partially offended that the other segments knew about your hobby and not him, your actual husband. Still, as long as it keeps you distracted, he'll keep indulging it for as long as you'd like. Even when you continue to send him strange gifts that he'd never use, only admire. (Pantalone is confused but soon puts two and two together.)

Of course, no one comments on the segments using puffling shakers in order to keep their life. I need a Foxttore fruit basket desperately... (imagine putting apples in it as a joke for Dottore teehee... :3)

[arting-block]

I absolutely love your writing style & your 11th doctor fics 😊 I’m not sure what your opinions on writing poly ships are, but I’m a sucker for some fem reader x 11 and River, and was wondering if i could request something fluffy and sweet with reader thinking her feelings towards the both of them are unrequited due to River and the Doctor being together already, but of course relationships with the Doctors can always be so complicated so who says he has to love just one woman at a time, he’s got two hands for a reason 🙏❤️

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | Eleventh Doctor x F!Reader x River Song

❝𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦��𝘥.❞

Summary: You were just a companion, a friend to the two Time Lords. At least, you thought you were.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (not really lol), fluffy ending

Words: 6.1K

A/N: I'M ALIVE!!! This request sat in my inbox and I struggled a bit to not turn this into a fully fleshed out story. I swear this was meant to be a smol lil blurb, your honor. I sneezed and then 5k spat onto my screen idk it just happened I swear...Anyways, gonna try to get to my other requests soon 🫡

Ordinary is not in your vocabulary. Nothing in your life ever seemed ordinary the moment the Doctor offered an adventure in his bigger-on-the-inside box and a devilish smile. No one normal would have given their safety in exchange for life-threatening altercations with aliens, monsters, and the worst of the universe. You hated the ordinary, despised the monotony of everyday life.

You took the Doctor’s offer with a smile of your own, delight and mischief to complement. 

Everything was going well as far as you were concerned. Lives were saved, memories were made, and all the time in the world to do whatever. You were happy, plain and simple.

You embraced the unknown, thanks to the Doctor’s influence. Comfortable with the odd and unthinkable. 

At least you thought you were. 

With each adventure comes injuries. Most are minimal that heal in a matter of days. Others leave scars that are forever etched in your skin. Being the self-sacrificing stubborn human you were, you often became a shield to those in need. In this particular case you had gotten slashed by a knife in a tussle. 

It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it stretched from your collarbone to the side of your neck. Thin line of crimson and a sharp sting when air hit it. Annoying, yes, but nothing you couldn’t handle. 

Your traveling companion had a different view.

You groan, “I’m fine, seriously. There’s no need to fuss over a scratch.”

River, beautiful as she is stubborn, gives you a pointed look. One that borders a withering stare but since you’re you it comes off as scolding. 

“You nearly had your head off your shoulders. You’re lucky I was there to intervene,” came her grumbling response. 

Her fingers find your chin to tilt your head up, her face out of your line of sight as you stare up at the ceiling. You take the opportunity to roll your eyes at her need to coddle you. You’re a grown woman for Christ’s sake, perfectly capable of handling yourself. If anything you’ve encountered worse and had bounced back fine. 

Sure, the knife of your attacker came a tad too close to the artery on your neck. Hell, maybe if your reflexes didn’t kick in fast enough you would’ve had a much different night to spend. 

But those hypothetical scenarios were merely that. Hypothetical. You’ve walked away that fight with bruised knuckles and a shallow, 4 inch cut. 

You were fine. Perfectly capable of handling yourself—

River’s finger finds the hollow of your throat. 

Feather-light, just barely touching the skin. You feel her touch up along your neck sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched when it stopped just above your pulse point. Something tugs the strings in your chest. 

A dangerous feeling coils down in your core. 

River’s breath tickles your ear, “Breathe, darling. Can’t have you passing out on me.”

As if on command, your body responds eagerly. You force air to leave your lungs all at once. There’s a slight burn left behind and you're sure it’s not due to your withholding oxygen. 

You clear your throat, “Are you going to patch me up Doctor Song?”

It comes off shaky and quiet.

River’s hand leaves your face and you can finally see her. A curve of a smile and a glint in her eyes that leaves goosebumps. 

Your legs involuntarily shift close.

River gives a shrug, “You’re right, just a scratch. No need for fussing. Unless you want me to patch you up?”

You shake your head, “N-No, there’s no need. Thank you for offering though.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest. Regret.

River nods understandably, “I’ll be out of your hair then. Give a shout if you need me.”

You watch as she turns to leave. You can’t help but trace the curve of her hips as she approaches the door. Words clump in your throat, an impulse of a thought racing. Before you can act she crosses the threshold, the door closing behind her.

Somehow it stung more than the 4 inch cut on your throat.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

— — —

You tried to put the encounter with River as far removed from your mind as you can. It was just the heat of the moment, a little rise because it’s been ages since you’ve had a romantic relationship. Not that you needed one. You’re perfectly content with spending your time with the Doctor. Who needs romance when you’re traveling the universe with a quirky alien?…A hot alien.

A hot alien who is your friend. Nothing more.

“Is there something on my face?” the Doctor asked, swiping his chin for invisible crumbs.

His words snapped you out of your haze. Back to the present. 

“Wha—No! Sorry, lost in my own head. What were you saying?”

The Doctor presses a few buttons to prepare the TARDIS for travel, glossing over your admitting to not listening, “I was in the middle of explaining why going to Kaythrona would be a bad idea in comparison to Bouble-4A. Perfect this time of year—trees made of crystals and the water is perfect temperature year round. Perfect water, perfect temperature, perfect getaway!”

His smile is that of pure joy. Infectious to anyone, especially you. 

“Yeah, perfect! You have any plans when we arrive?” you asked, leaning against the console. 

You were an arm’s length away. At this distance you could smell the remnants of his earl gray tea from this morning clinging to his clothes. Wild hair that is tamed on the sides, the cut of his cheekbone, and the hint of stubble along his jaw. 

The Doctor whizzes about the controls with flair. Pushing, pressing, and pulling controls that look indistinguishable from one another. 

“Many, many plans. Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna love the little markets along the coast. We could go to the seafood restaurant—no, the pearl mines! So much to do and lots to show you.”

The Doctor makes his way around back to you, bumping shoulders as he did so. He turns to you, excited to expose you to yet another world. 

You give him a small smile in return. Hoping your demure expression would hide the fluttering of your heart. 

Pulling the engine lever down, you feel the familiar rumbling of the TARDIS. The two of you grab onto the railing in hopes to not fall over. The Doctor reaches for the edge of the console, bracing himself. 

You, caught up in your fawning, didn’t properly latch onto the railing and nearly toppled over. A hand yanks your arm and you collide with a wall of wool and earl gray. 

“Don’t worry I got you,” the Doctor assured, his mouth nearly kissing against your ear. 

His hand migrates from your arm to your waist, pulling you to his side. Tight and secure. The shaking continues, but you’re much too focused on how warm the Doctor seems to be. His hand firm on your side, as if it was meant to be there. Your cheek against the scratchy wool of his coat just inches away from his hearts. 

Just a friend. Only a friend.

You grasp onto his jacket even though there’s a perfectly stable railing right in front of you. 

— — —

Ordinary didn’t apply to your life, so it would only make sense it didn’t touch your love life either. 

River once again joined you and the Doctor for another adventure. Surprisingly, one that didn’t involve intergalactic battles and executing a poorly planned heist. No, she just so happened to be in New York in 2023 at the exact same pizza parlor the Doctor is dragging you to. 

In the past few months you’ve come to realize that the odd feelings in your stomach and the nervous butterflies wasn’t just spur-of-the-moment anxiety. It only manifests when you are within proximity to either the Doctor or River. Anytime they slipped past your personal bubble, you felt the simmering heat in your stomach and a dizziness whenever they got too close. You didn’t realize how the three of you would be joined at the hip until you realized something. 

You love the Doctor…and River. 

It came crawling into your mind until it was all you could think about. Moments across the years playing over and over. You loved them both for so long but you played it off as platonic. It should’ve been obvious with how you hoard their attention and do everything in your power to be near them. Their laughs, praise, and happy moments shared between you set your heart ablaze.

Only problem is that they’re already married. They weren’t secretive either. Always flirting in the face of danger. Lingering eyes and a heated kiss when things got rough. They never hid their affection towards one another.

You were never jealous of them. The ache in your chest came from the fact that they would never share that with you. You were you and they were the Doctor and River Song. They had a history long before you and they seemed more than content with each other. 

River sat in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. The afternoon sun highlighted her golden hair like a halo. She was writing in that old diary of hers that resembles your beloved time-machine.

The Doctor walked in fast, measured steps while you tried to keep up. His hand on your back, guiding you through the people crowding around the cashier. The closer you stepped the more anxiety pools. 

River looks up from her diary with a wide grin. The one where it crinkles her eyes and makes you lose breath. 

“Hello sweetie,” she says, her words honeyed with affection. 

“Hello love,” the Doctor returns with a giddy smile. 

River’s gaze met yours. Her expression didn’t change, as if she was just as happy to see you. 

“We meet again, darling.”

Darling became her nickname for you as much as sweetie was for the Doctor. 

She’s just flirting, nothing special.

Your nails dig into your palms, “So it seems, Riv.”

The Doctor ushers you into the booth so you sit shoulder to shoulder. He rubs his hands together as he snatched a menu from the pile in the middle of the table. 

“Alright, what do we have here? Some good ol’ pepperoni, some cheese, and lovely sauce. I’m absolutely famished. Haven’t stopped to think, let alone eat something other than the ramen packets Y/N hoards,” the Doctor says. 

You snatched the menu from the Doctor, “So you were eating them! You said they could clog your arteries.”

The Doctor snatches the menu right back, “I said they could clog your arteries, not mine.”

“You made me believe I was going mad! Why couldn't you get your own?”

“‘Cause your room is closer…and less expensive.”

The two of you continue to bicker whilst the menu keeps being tugged mercilessly. Ramen packets changed to snoring habits (you were horrified that the Doctor snuck into your room when you were still in it) and the argument shifted to accusations. Most of which was you calling the Doctor a robber. The Doctor deflects and somehow blames you for being easy to rob. 

River watched the exchange with a tiniest of smiles. The Doctor with a hint of red at his ears, leaning forward. You with pinched brows and sharp words that you don't actually mean. So close the two of you were that your knees were touching and the air between was your mingled breaths. 

“Ahem,” River coughed rather obnoxiously. 

At the sound of her, the two of you ceased arguing. 

“Any louder and you’ll alert the whole parlor,” she scolds.

Luckily the busy little parlor was already loud with its many customers. Loud enough to drown the squabbling in your booth. Though the realization of how you might've looked made you and the Doctor slouch into your seats. 

River narrows her eyes, “If you're done arguing like petty school girls we could hurry up and order because I’m not sharing my food. Unless you wish to continue spilling each other's secrets for all of New York to hear.”

“Nope, we're done,” you say. You shoot her a grin in hopes to hide the fact that, yes, you will continue later.

River’s eyes shift to her husband, who avoids her stare.

“Yes, done-zo. No more arguing,” the Doctor affirms. He leaves out the “For now” at the end. 

River knows the little omissions. She doesn't voice it, instead rolling her eyes.

— — —

Lunch went by smoothly, all things considered. Food was served, pizza was eaten, and stories passed the time. The Doctor retold your fantastical adventures with some minor exaggeration (leaving out the mishaps as well). River bragged about her many archeological discoveries and Indiana Jones-esque quests to find legendary artifacts. 

As they retold, shared, and laughed at each other's fortune, you sat in your seat with sealed lips. As the time passed, the two of them leaned forward with biting grins. It was as if magnets in their chests pulled them nearer. 

You stayed put because in place of a magnet was a lump of sorrow that was weighing you down. You watched their banter go on and on, leaving you out. Their words turned personal, intimate with inside jokes. It was clear that although River and the Doctor weren't exclusive by any means, their love runs deeper than most. 

Their love for each other ran deeper, felt stronger only for them. 

Not for you. 

It hurts to watch them. It hurts to love them knowing they will never feel the same. You’re just a temporary blip in their long lives. They already have one another. Perfectly content with having you just as a companion. Because that’s all you are to them. In this moment, trapped in your bubble, you can see just how in love they are. In the middle of the table their hands are inches away from each other. The tips of their hands moving at a snail's pace towards the other, until they fold in where they meet. They don’t seem to notice the collision of hands, still conversing with one another nonchalantly. 

It’s an innocent gesture. Sweet and pure with its intentions. Perfectly their hands fit, you don’t think they could form against yours. They were perfect for one another. Witty mouths, playful eyes, and brilliant minds. 

Husband and wife. Vowed for one another. 

Your eyes don’t leave their hands, transfixed by your own spell of deep longing. 

The Doctor laughs at something River says. It’s a soft chuckle that pulls his lips and shakes his head. River stares unabashed with eyes so full of love that it tugs the strings in your chest. 

It makes you sick.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out. You felt too close, too warm in the booth. You need to get away from them both. 

The Doctor and River glance at one another. A pointed look that could hold entire conversations. Moments ticked by before the Doctor scoots out of his seat to let you pass. You all but sprinted out of the booth and made a bee-line to the bathroom. 

It was a small, dank space with dark brown walls and one lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The harsh lighting and tight space was far from cozy and inviting, but you are glad to have made it out. Your breathing became more shallow, tears started to burn into your eyes. You stare into the warped reflection in the mirror. 

Tiredness smudges around your eyes. Your lower lip is cracked from the constant tugging and swiping of your tongue. Edges of your shirt wrinkled from how tightly you were holding onto it. 

You don’t know how long you stared at yourself. Lines around your face blur as the tears start to flow. Down your face, into the valleys of cheeks, and into the porcelain sink. Another falls, then another, until you can’t help but sob into your hand. 

— — —

Minutes tick by. The pizza being shared was now specks of crumbs. 

Your companions sit idly, waiting for your return. 

“Is it just me, or is (Y/N) a bit quiet today?” the Doctor mused, looking behind him to see the closed door of the bathroom. The red sticker on the lock gnaws at his mind. 

River rubs her thumb over the Doctor’s hand, “Why don’t you ask her? She’s your companion.”

The Doctor turns back to her, “Why don’t you ask her? Everytime I see you two, you can’t keep your hands off one another.”

His words don’t have any malice. If anything, it was more of a jab at how horribly River hides her affinity towards you. Always doting on you with small trinkets and tight hugs. The soft drawl of her “darling” seemed much too intimate, too loving to be platonic. 

River’s smile is sharp, her words quick, “Says the man who whimpers whenever she wears a tight dress.”

As quick as her words came, the image of you a week ago floods his mind. 

Silk gloves, the shine of your skin, the color of your lipstick. It was a gala out in a different galaxy and the Doctor found it hard to resist your puppy eyes. 

You begged him to dress up, to match with your dress. He mutters, whines, and begrudgingly says yes. Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he knew of the outcome of seeing your dress. 

A deep blue, nearly black, with delicate lacing and gemstones. Simple, lavish, and complimented your body beautifully. The neckline perfectly snug against your chest, bodice hugging your waist, and when you turned around—

The whole of the Doctor’s face flushes a bright pink. He sputters, tone harsh, “I do not. It’s called being flustered. I’ll have you know that I—stop laughing.”

The Doctor’s plea falls on deaf ears as River let out a choked giggle. Her hand covers her mouth, but the edges of her smile still peek through. Seeing the Doctor flustered over a girl never fails to make her laugh. 

“I was…only teasing!” she let out between giggles. The expression the Doctor made, all grumpy like a cat, made her sides hurt. 

The laughter dies down. River dabs her eyes and massages her tired cheeks. The Doctor’s hearts swells at her joy, even if it was at his own expense. 

The Doctor looks over his shoulder once more. Your door is still locked with no one in line. An uneasy feeling lodges in his chest. Your usual bright, happy attitude was strangely absent. A few times you chimed in, relaying your own version of a story the Doctor purposefully miscounted. 

You weren’t sad, at least the Doctor didn’t seem to think so. Empty was a more appropriate word. Stuck in your own head thinking God knows what. 

“Did you hold up your end?”

River’s questions shocked the Doctor out of his own thoughts.

The Doctor narrows his eyes, “I don’t recall making a bargain with you. I thought we agreed that if we were drunk that it doesn’t count.”

River rolls her eyes, “I’m talking about (Y/N). I told you to talk to her about…” she gestures to the space between them. 

The Doctor mimics her movements, confusion still present in his face, “What’s this? What did I agree to?”

“Us! You agreed to talk to (Y/N) about us. You told me that you would drop hints about it,” River scans the Doctor’s face for any recognition. She sees the realization dawn on him, and the guilt settling in. River can’t help but curl her lips into a snarl, “You didn’t do it, did you?”

“How am I supposed to?” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “It’s bad enough as it is that I get all light-headed and fuzzy when she’s near me. You hear me? Light-headed and fuzzy. I didn’t think that was possible—no I was certain it wasn’t possible. At least with you, you made all the moves from the get-go. What if she doesn’t like me back?’

River shoved her leg under the table, earning a strained “ow” from the Doctor, “You stupid oaf! Of course she likes you! Smartest man in the universe, yet you couldn’t use your big brain of yours to notice her signals? A cyberman could figure it out for goodness sake.”

The Doctor slumped back into his chair, dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice how close you were with him. But you're close with everyone. Always friendly, open with your emotions. 

River was the one to bring up a potential relationship. Nudging the Doctor towards you, trying to get him to open up. Every time he mentions anything romantic, it never seems to come out right. Words jumble in his head and his tongue knots in his mouth. On the off chance he does something “romantic”, you would always—unwaveringly—call him a friend. He has to pretend that the word doesn’t make his teeth grind against each other. 

The Doctor swirls the colored straw in his glass of soda. The ice clinking against glass and the residual carbonation sizzling out. 

Ice. Cracking. Sizzling out into the inky depths of the cola, almost black in the dim lighting.

Something in his brain clicks.  

— — —

10 minutes passed before someone banged on the bathroom door. 

“Can you hurry up man! You’re holdin’ up the line!” an angry, muffled voice yelled. 

You furiously wiped your face, collecting all the remaining tears with paper towels. A couple splashes of water to soothe your puffy eyes before you unlock the bathroom. You were greeted with a cross, stout man with too much hair on his chest and not enough on his head. He grumbled something before making his way around you. No one else stood behind him. 

The restaurant died down with only a few tables left occupied and the setting sun spilling through the windows. You drag yourself towards the booth the Doctor and River were situated in. Your steps get slower as the distance gets shorter. Dread builds into you; your mind conjures the image of their exclusion towards you. 

Voices, familiar and warm, could be heard. They were more hushed than before, perhaps due to the lack of other customers to drown out their noise. As you round a corner, you see River and the Doctor hunched towards one another. You can only see River’s stern expression before her eyes immediately spot you. Relief sags her shoulders. At her expression, the Doctor whizzed around to greet you. 

You stopped in front of them, seeing their ruffled clothes and fidgeting body language. You were gone for a few minutes, so why did they look…disheveled? River’s usual glossy curls were frizzy around the edges; wild strands sticking to and fro. The Doctor’s shirt looked wrinkled and bowtie skewed at an odd angle. 

Did they…? No, you weren’t gone for that long.

“Sorry I took so long. Long line and no toilet paper,” you lie with a monotone voice. You didn’t put any energy into making it believable, hoping they would get the hint to not question you. 

The Doctor sprang up from his seat with an expression that seemed much too happy to be innocent.  

“Change of plans. River had just informed me that at this very moment, there is a comet passing by in—” he checks his watch, “ —Yosemite, California. Super beautiful, gorgeous color. Isn’t that right Riv?”

River nods, fast and eager, “Sure is, sweetie. I’ve had enough of the city, wouldn’t you say?”

Their odd behavior rang alarm bells in your mind. A prank? You doubt River would be the type to follow along with a malicious prank. The Doctor, however…

You let out an exhausted sigh, “Could this wait later? Tomorrow?”

“Nope! Can’t wait, lots to see!” came the Doctor’s reply. 

The Doctor placed his hands on your shoulders to steer you to the front door. Your feet nearly tangle together, practically stumbling down the empty street with River not too far behind. You find your footing just fast enough so that you can speed walk without the Doctor trying to knock you over. 

“Guys, slow down. Doctor, I can walk just fine y’know,” your shoe gets caught onto a piece of sidewalk, making you jump slightly. It doesn’t deter the Doctor, still hellbent on shoving you down the street. You turn to your side, eyeing River, “Could you please explain to me what’s going on? Why are you guys acting weird?”

River’s cherry red lips stretched to a smile (Did she just apply it?), “Spoilers.”

Your friends’ odd behaviors made you question if you’re being kidnapped by shapeshifters. Not an impossible scenario, but would explain why they’re suddenly so hyper. The Doctor made a sharp turn into an alley. You see the TARDIS with its vibrant blue against the red brick of the buildings beside it. 

Something’s wrong. 

“The TARDIS was parked a few streets down. Why is it here?” you questioned, distrust lacing your voice. 

The Doctor sent a worried look towards River, who looked caught off-guard. 

“We…thought it was best to move it closer so you didn’t have to walk far,” River explains. It comes out quickly. Too rushed and uneasy to make it truthful. 

The Doctor gave a smile, too wide for your liking. 

You cross your arms over your chest, “If you don’t spit it out already I’m not getting into the TARDIS. I’m honestly a bit freaked out right now.”

“We, uh…” the Doctor moves his hand, trying to come up with something, “We can’t tell you.”

You scoff, looking at River to see if she will spill. 

River shrugs, “You’ll have to come inside the TARDIS to see.”

You wrestle with the idea of accusing them of being aliens with perception filters. It could explain their odd appearance and eagerness to get you to the TARDIS. Were the real Doctor and River Song trapped somewhere. Is this a trick of the mind? 

The Doctor hand tugs yours. Secure and warm. His expression calms, “It’s a surprise,” he indulges. 

River unlocks the TARDIS, holding the door open, “A big one.”

The Doctor and River take your hands, interlocking them. The action sends your mind blank. Soft, warm. They hold tightly, flushed against your clammy palms. Your heart stutters, finally registering what’s happening. You’ve held their hands many, many times. It wasn’t unusual to see you link hands with either of them. 

This. It feels different. 

They all but pulled you inside, the destination already on display and the engine ready to go. 

— — —

Cool air kissed your face, greatly contrasting the warm New York temperature. Grass met your feet instead of concrete. Stillness you’d always associate with nature instead of the bustle of busy streets. 

“Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

You fight the instinct to rip the cloth off your face, but your hands are preoccupied with being held by your companions. River to your left, the Doctor on your right. Their other hands find the small of your back, guiding you forward. 

“Almost there, darling,” River assures. 

You bite back a groan. One foot in front of the other as best as you could. Each one was wobbly; unsure of debris blocking your path. The hands along your back tighten, trying to steer your uncoordinated body towards the destination. 

You smell the familiar scent of firewood in the air before you hear the crackling.  

The walking stops and hands leave your body. You hear the rustling of fabric and stray giggles of the Doctor. River hushes him. 

Your fingers twitch at your side. The cotton of the Doctor’s bow tie is soft yet strangely secure on your head. You're trying to piece together what they’re trying to show you. Nothing seems to add up. Is it a holiday? A prank? Was it a birthday?

You hear footsteps and feel two hands on your shoulders. 

“Keep your eyes close, yeah?” the Doctor whispers, tugging his bow tie off your eyes. 

You sigh, “Doctor, what are you trying to do?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond. You don’t know his facial expression or any sort of clue towards his motivations. But you feel the gentle hold of his hand. Warm palms picking up your fingers, thumb tracing the peaks of your knuckles and the valleys of your skin. 

Almost like…

“Ready,” River announced, a bit distant from where you are standing. 

The Doctor leans close, his hair tickling your temple, “Open your eyes.”

It took you a few blinks to adjust your eyes. The inky darkness of night contrasts the warm, inviting fire light. 

River stands next to a picnic blanket with the most lush pillows you’ve ever seen. Movie snacks are piled in the corner and in the middle a neatly wrapped box with an obnoxious bow. In front of the picnic blanket was a small, orange fire surrounded by a ring of rocks. The flames crackle loudly, providing warmth against the lowering temperature. 

“What…How? Why?” Was all you could muster. You take a few steps closer, unsure of how to process this. 

You focus on the box. Dark wrapping paper with shining gold stars to accent. The flickering fire made the glitter on the stars twinkle. The bow nearly swallowed the top of the box with ribbons cascading down. Your eyes flicker to the pile of snacks. Your favorite snacks. Even some ramen packets. 

The Doctor spoke up, “Hope you’re not too full from the pizza. Though, come to think of it, we may have left the drinks back in the TARDIS. River suggested wine but I’m already buzzed from my own endorphins.” His words were a bit fast, almost nervous. 

“But why? Is there something special about today?” you ask. 

River smiled, “November, 1826.”

There’s something familiar about the date. It tickled your memory, but nothing clear. 

“Our first adventure together. The three of us,” The Doctor clarified. 

It felt as though the Doctor’s words swept all air from your lungs. Of course, how could you forget? 

You are certain it was years ago. Keeping track of time on the TARDIS is finicky at best, but you felt the time pass as evident by the scars on your skin and fine lines dotting your face. You were still wide-eyed and naive, not yet comprehending the dangers of the universe. The Doctor was still odd and new to be around; still getting used to your presence at his side. 

There was a galactic cruise ship, nearly swallowing Pluto in size. Parts of the memory are hazy in your mind. You forget if it’s you that urged the Doctor to go or the Doctor dragging you out. Whatever the case was, you found yourself onboard and immediately lost, tipsy from the wine given. 

River found you then. It wasn’t ‘til later that you realized that River was actually seeking you out. In your eyes, it was the first time seeing her. To her, she had already had a tone of familiarity when your name rolled off her tongue. 

Turns out River had organized a heist to return stolen goods that were aboard the cruise ship. Fighting and mishaps ensued until the Doctor managed to hoard the goods aboard the TARDIS and return them to their rightful spots. 

At the end of it all, the three of you had just so happened to be above the Earth at the same time as Biela’s comet. 

You remember your legs dangling off the edge of the TARDIS, dark splotches along your legs where bruises formed. The Doctor and River lean against the doorframe, silent in their awe. The first of many mishaps and adventures the three of you would create. 

They took you to the exact day—the exact time—

“Why?” you whispered. Everything came rushing all at once. Stolen glances, longing stares, the uncomfortable beat of your heart. Memories of the three of you or just intimate moments with either of them. You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just…don’t understand.”

The Doctor took your hands once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. 

“We love you (Y/N). For a while now, actually.” 

His delicate words hit you like a gust of wind. Your head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor’s usual happy facade is gone, any humor wiped from the planes of his face entirely. His hands grip onto yours a bit harder, enough to ground you. 

After a few moments, your brain finally stills. Anxiety still grips your muscles and tightens your chest, but you manage to sputter your thoughts out coherently. 

“I love you guys too,” you grin against the onset of tears starting to fall. You didn’t move your hands from the Doctor’s, so you simply let them cascade down your face. You shakily inhaled, continuing, “For so long I thought you guys wouldn’t feel the same. Even now…”

Two hands appear at your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tears. The Doctor smiles and you don’t mistake the glisten in his eyes as well. 

You turn towards River who stands near the blankets with the present pressed tightly against herself. The fire gives her golden hair a bright orange hue, surrounding her with a divine glow. The way she looks at you made your skin flushed; so full of adoration, as if you were the most breath-taking sight. 

Stepping towards the blond with the Doctor, you try to meet her gaze head-on. You stopped once you got close enough to see the dilation of her eyes. For a second a flicker of something else flashed in her green eyes. 

“Breathe, darling,” she teased. At her command, you let out the breath you were holding. She hands you the box, never breaking eye-contact, “Consider it an anniversary gift.” 

The choice of words makes your eyes widen. The box seemed a bit hefty in your hands. You gave it an experimental shake, feeling something large and solid moving. You gripped the end of the ribbon and gave it a tug. Silky ribbon buckled, folding into itself until it completely unraveled and slipped from the box. Pulling open the top you saw a large blue book nestled inside. 

TARDIS blue, you noted. 

River takes the empty box while the Doctor ushered you onto the picnic blanket. There were no words embellished that gave any indication as to what the book was about. Flipping the cover open, you were met with a mostly blank page, save for the text stamped in the middle:

“For the love of our many lives. A companion, friend, and most importantly, the reason the Universe doesn’t seem so cold.” 

Tears nearly blurred your vision, but you managed to wipe them away to flip to the next page. 

A collage of photos filled the pages. Some were candid, others in black in white, most of them had you in them. There were pictures you had captured on an old film camera you snagged when you were stuck in the 70s. You were quite surprised to see snapshots of you doing mundane activities. Your head was turned away from the lens, completely focused on some task in front of you. There were a few pictures with you and River and some with all three of you. 

Years of memories stored in the pages of the book. Some far back to the earliest days of your travels. 

The rest of the night blurred into happy tears and hearty laughs. You snuggled between the two Time Lords flipping through the photo album filled with your fondest memories. 

The insecurities felt in the cramped bathroom in the middle of New York seemed so far away. Years of anxiety curdling in your stomach finally bloomed into something sweet. They loved you. They wanted you. They planned everything out for you. You felt it in their gaze, their warm touches. 

“Tonight,” the Doctor whispered, “It’s all about you.”

As Biela made her visit, shining brightly amongst the twinkling stars, you realized that somewhere out in the sky, your past selves were observing the same scene. 

Staring out into the vast expanse of space, you hoped the love that swelled your heart could be felt millions of miles away. That your shared laughter transcended the atmosphere and carried to the passengers of the TARDIS floating above Earth. 

You hoped that somewhere out there, your future selves are looking over, sharing this experience across time and space. 

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Vampiric Thirst

(Old note: Throws this at you guys. Haven’t written in a while. I don’t know if that will change, but I couldn’t help but make this after the whole vampire event. Once more I end up disappointed by Obey Me events. I really need to lower my standards like I do for Ark, because as fun as the concepts can be, every event ends up feeling rushed and half-baked. They’re not gonna stop though because suckers like me will pay money for a dopamine hit because I have no meaning in life.

New note: Obviously taking some liberties to make it so that Solomon does actually have vampiric urges rather than just being a horndog because this game is literally mostly horny, but I crave plot and substance and have no interest in horny. Maybe I don’t want to fuck anyone, maybe I want actual stakes and near-death because if there’s no threat of dying, then what’s the point of living? Anyways, have something started last July, haha. It’s short, but I want it out of my WIP pile where it’s been judging me from the goddamn corner. I have a bunch of lore ideas with this given the events status being introduced after Nightbringers release, but I won’t get into it cause I’d need to refresh myself on OM.)

Word count: 3668

TW/CW: Soft, safe, nonsexual G/t vore, fearplay, blood, bloodsucking (I hate any word with suck in it, but it’s in here), prey in a stomach full of blood

__________________________________________________________

“Because I’m always craving you, Kat. So much so that I honestly could devour you.”

That… hadn’t really been what I had expected when I asked him why he seemed to be acting odd today when he walked into my room at Cocytus Hall to give me something, kind of freezing when some sort of realization went over him.

I couldn’t help the way my heart picked up the pace anxiously, despite having come across multiple situations similar to this one. Seeing Solomon with a similar hunger to Beel that was uncharacteristic of him made my anxiety spike a bit. “Buuut, you’re not. Right,” I asked nervously, unable to NOT notice the way his eyes glowed slightly as I lowered the book I’d been reading. I couldn’t help but keep my desk chair facing him, something instinctive decidedly not wanting to turn my back to him despite having been in far worse situations.

It didn’t seem to matter much as he touched his throat lightly, stepping slightly closer and replying, “I don’t think I could actually stop myself if I wanted if this keeps up… Kat, I know this is a sudden request but… would you mind if I drank some of your blood?”

“Wha- blood?” I blinked a bit in surprise, feeling a slight epiphany as I realized. “Ooh! I thought Vampiritis couldn’t affect you. Or did your hubris come to bite you?”

I intended no pun, but Solomon still let out a snort of amusement, though he also looked a tad sheepish like I had hit the nail on the head. I had told him that he should still be careful with the brothers himself, but he’d mostly brushed me off and said that he needed to keep his ‘precious apprentice’ from either catching Vampiritis or becoming a human-sized CapriSun to the afflicted demon brothers while that whole situation was figured out. But, it seemed like his rather attentive nature to me hadn’t extended to himself and he ended up contracting Vampiritis despite all boisterous assurances that he wouldn’t.

“Unfortunately, it appears that being around the brothers so much has infected me,” the sorcerer sighed, looking a bit dejected at having contracted the disease. His eyes seemed slightly glazed over and unfocused like he wasn’t fully in the conversation.

“Well, Barbatos might still have some of the antidote,” I replied, seeing him perk up slightly at the reminder, eyes refocusing with his normal clarity from the pretty obvious distractions on his mind. I set my book down on my desk and started to get up, adding, “I'm sure Diavolo will be able to-."

I yelped when there was a sudden weight against my shoulder and I was shoved back into my chair, looking up at Solomon with startled eyes. His own glowed slightly as he unintentionally loomed over me, looking caught off guard at his own actions.

“Uuuuh, Solomon?”

“I'm a bit a-... worried that I may not be able to hold back against my current thirst on the way to Diavolo or Barbatos,” Solomon admitted. “I'm afraid that if something isn't done NOW that I'll quite literally see red.”

“Really? Did you really try to make a shitty joke in the current situation,” I asked, but I couldn't make myself add any bite to it. His grip on my shoulder was firm and I could feel it tightening slightly each second, able to feel the shake in his grasp. Feeling overly aware of him with the proximity, I could barely hear the slight pant beneath his breath. I took a steadying breath of my own. “Look, I'll give you a LITTLE bit of blood. Just enough to hopefully ebb the hunger pangs, alright? Then we can go to Diavolo with your mind clearer.”

He jolted slightly at my suggestion, or maybe it was just my voice, and a conflicted expression passed across his face. He opened his mouth to say something but it didn’t come out for a few seconds, straining before saying, “I… Yes. Yes, perhaps that will help abate the hunger.”

I didn’t like how he hesitated as he said it or how his expression looked both extremely guilty and eager. But, despite the anxious feeling settling in my gut, I trusted him. To a point.

“Alright, well, first of all, you gotta back up a bit there, bud,” I planted a hand against his chest and shoved at him. His lips twitched in the barest frown before allowing himself to be pushed back away from me, giving me some much needed breathing room and some relief from being pinned by my shoulder to the chair. Absentmindedly rubbing the back of my neck, I thought aloud, “I kind of don't really trust you with my neck, so we're gonna go with… a wrist, I think, yeah.”

“R-Right.” Solomon looked like he was barely paying attention, hands shaking slightly as he bit his lip, seemingly trying to keep his mind clear enough. I saw a bead of his own blood from it.

I reached down and began to roll my sleeves up nervously, only slightly comforted by the sight of the protective charm on my right wrist. Once my sleeves were rolled I felt a bit awkward as I kind of held both out towards him. “Uhhhh, take your pick, I guess. Just don't bite too deep? I'm not sure if you could break my wrists by biting them, but I'd like to not test that too much.”

“I'll do my best,” Solomon presumably tried to give me a reassuring smile but it came out as more of a grimace. He gave up pretty quickly and carefully grabbed my left wrist like it'd snap at his touch. If Vampiritis gave him the cliche super-strength that movie vampires had, maybe it was for the best.

I was a bit surprised when the sorcerer kneeled to get better access to my wrist, feeling more than a little awkward - I probably should have stood up or figured something else out before offering my blood to him since he wasn't really in the headspace to think clearly - but the awkwardness was tempered by a familiar squeamishness that settled in the pit of my stomach. It was similar to, but wasn't quite as bad as, the nauseous anxiety I felt anytime I had to get my blood drawn or a shot. 

I managed to watch as Solomon raised my wrist slightly to his face, saw him open his mouth to reveal a glimpse of the elongated canines that were a symptom of Vampiritis and felt a bit of his breath against my skin. But I felt myself pale right as he opened his jaws wider and averted my gaze before he bit down, warned by the slight tensing of his hold on my wrist. 

There were two points of pain that suddenly bloomed along my wrist vein as the skin was pierced, making me yelp and stiffen. I managed to mostly resist the urge to pull away as I bit down on my tongue, but my heart skipped a beat as a twitch from my arm told me that he probably wouldn't have budged if I had tried to pull away properly.  

I swallowed thickly, wondering if he could taste adrenaline in my quickened pulse for a moment before the pain in my wrist faded startlingly quickly. It was cold and numb, like novocaine to my system, and I couldn't help but blink in surprise and look back. 

Only to immediately avert my gaze again with a fresh wave of dizziness and queasiness. 

"Okay, nope," I muttered to myself, trying to push aside the image of Solomon latched onto my wrist with a thin stream of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and an almost blissful close-eyed expression out of my head. At least one of us was having fun. 

Thankfully, it wasn't too long before I heard the small gasp and slight panting as he detached from me. It had maybe been several seconds, probably enough for a full mouthful or two with the smaller veins in my wrist compared to my throat, but it had felt awfully long, and I felt the lingering squeamishness that I knew would remain for the rest of the day. 

"I hope that helped clear your head a bit," I pulled my wrist back to myself and gingerly touched a finger to the two beading puncture wounds as I started to turn my head to look at Solomon. My hand had a pins and needles feeling.  "I was a bit worried you'd-." 

My voice immediately became muffled as my mouth was covered by a hand, eyes widening and crying out in surprise when the force of Solomon lunging upward caused the desk chair to fall back. It hit the desk edge first before sliding to the ground, rattling my skull as the chair back hit the ground, making me grunt from the fall and ending up pinned beneath the feral sorcerer. 

"Mmph!" I blinked away my brief daze, looking up at Solomon's face in the shadow of the desk as panic flared across my pacts. His slightly glowing blue eyes were replaced by an intense red and I could see streaks of my own blood from the corners of his mouth. The feral looking expression was something I'd never seen in him before, but I couldn't summon anyone or use a spell with my mouth currently covered. 

There was a sharp tug against my neck as my choker was broken off, jolting me from my frozen shock. I squirmed and bucked beneath the sorcerer, twisting up and elbowing him in the face. The man HISSED at me and I took advantage of his surprise to shove his hand off of my mouth. Kicking at his chest to push him off me and retreat further beneath the desk, I began to recite a summoning spell. 

"Hear me and heed my call," I exclaimed as quick and clear as I could, feeling a pressure behind my eye. Solomon was sat from where I'd pushed him back, hand against his cheekbone where I'd struck him. His expression went from indignant surprise to one of uncharacteristic, raw fury. I saw him tense like a coil before trying to push forward off the ground to lunge towards me again. I quickly raised my leg, shoe planting firmly against his chest as it barely stopped him, knee almost buckling painfully against the force. “In the name of the sorcerer Katherine, I draw upon my pact with the ring of li-GHT!” 

My voice hitched as Solomon grabbed the ankle of the foot against his chest, pulling it to the side and yanking me closer. My heart raced, gritting my teeth as we scuffled in the cramped space beneath the desk. I tried to not fuck up saying the summon, while trying to stop him from stopping ME from saying it, while also trying to get my foot loose and scramble further back again. 

“Come forth, Mam-mphf!” I narrowed my eyes and grunted as Solomon let go of my ankle and managed to wrestle both of my wrists in one hand, covering my mouth again with his other. The pressure that had been building behind my eye fizzled out and disappeared dead in its tracks.  

The sorcerer wasted no time in descending on me, making me gasp in pain as my throat was bitten. I squirmed but could do nothing as restrained as I was, my pained panting lessening as the numbing began to settle in my neck, my hand still tingling from loss of feeling in the wrist. I heard the first swallow as he began to drink greedily and felt a rush of lightheadedness. Lightheadedness that lingered as more blood was stolen and less was able to reach my head properly, making my thrashing lessen alarmingly fast.

I tried to call out Solomon’s name, to try and appeal to him past the feral fervor that had overtaken him. But, of course, it came out as an easily ignored muffled shout that I barely heard over the blood rushing in my own ears and the sound of gulping.

Time slowed painfully as I remained pinned beneath the sorcerer, the lightheadedness and weak feeling in my body increasing every second. My limbs felt more and more like lead until my arms simply hung by my wrists in Solomon’s hold, now struggling to just keep my eyes open and focus on the wooden grain of the desk underside above, trying to not pass out with the fear that if I closed my eyes that I wouldn’t open them again. However, even that became too much effort and my eyelids slid closed.

I felt cold and tired.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed with my eyes closed but I realized that I was being nudged, barely able to focus on the voice, “Sh-Shit, Kat? Kat?!”

“Nnngh,” I groaned at being nudged again, eyelids twitching a few times before I managed to groggily force them open. My sight was blurry and I had to clear it with a couple blinks to look up at Solomon, who gazed down in worried panic with slightly glowing blue eyes rather than the red from before. I just felt an overwhelming wave of relief at seeing that he seemed to have come to. “Oh, thank god..”

I let out a relieved sigh, eyes closing again tiredly, adrenaline either long gone or drained and feeling exhausted relief at seeing Solomon alright. My brow twitched and furrowed as I was shaken, struggling to get out of the dazed stupor I’d almost immediately fallen into without realizing it.

I just wanted to sleep now, man, leave me alone.

“Come on, stay with me,” Solomon said, something brushing against my neck as he murmured some words under his breath. “I can’t have my adorable apprentice dying on me.”

“Mmmn-n-not adorable,” I grumbled weakly, managing to open an eye in an attempt to glare at him. He pulled his hand away from my neck and the glow of a healing spell dissipated in his palm. The healing spell didn’t clear away the blood on his hand and chin, making me wonder how bad I looked if HE looked this disheveled and blood-covered.

“I can’t believe that worked. You’re ridiculous,” the sorcerer laughed, but it was strained. He reached for something nearby and muttered another spell, adding louder, “Just try and stay awake while I try to fix this before the bloodlust becomes unbearable again. If this is how Beel feels all the time, no wonder he goes mad with hunger as often as he does…”

I groaned in acknowledgement, fighting to keep my eye open. I gave up and lifted a lead-heavy arm to drape lethargically over my eyes. “How much blood can I lose before dying?”

“Well, the average person can lose up to a fifth of their blood on average before going into complete shock. However, more than forty percent is almost certainly lethal.”

My lips pursed at the information, quiet for a few seconds before lifting my arm slightly from my eyes to peer at him and  mumbling, “I don’t like that you just know that.”

“You did ask,” Solomon replied lightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. He seemed satisfied with whatever he cast and started reaching for my neck again. His expression fell when I involuntarily flinched slightly away from his hands. 

“I-... s-sorry…”

“No. No, it’s… understandable,” he sighed slightly, grabbing my other wrist instead. My hand curled defensively as he lifted it up and tied my choker around the wrist. 

I let out a surprised noise as I felt a sudden surge of energy and slight warmth, having not realized how chilled I was with my lack of blood. Not enough to be jumping up and down or anything, but I didn’t feel like I was about to die anymore. I blinked at not feeling like death and gave Solomon a bleary quizzical look.

“It’s to magically help your blood levels. I can’t make something from nothing, especially in my mental state right now, but it'll keep you from dying to blood loss,” Solomon explained, giving me a guilty, apologetic, and shameful expression. He sighed and I felt like his eyes flickered for a second. “It's also to help you breathe and hopefully keep you clean.”

“Solomon. I don't like that you said that…,” I narrowed my eyes at him and shifted to try and push myself into a sitting position, yelping when my elbows buckled beneath me. Yup, still too weak to move much. 

“Don't strain yourself,” a hand planted against my shoulder to keep me down as the sorcerer looked at me with concern. He tried to give me a reassuring smile despite the obvious mental strain it was taking him to maintain control. 

Probably would have been more effective if there wasn't a slight discoloration on his face where I'd elbowed him as bruising started setting in, he hadn't literally just overpowered me, was on the verge of relapsing, and we were both covered in my own blood. In my slightly delirious state, I had to internally admit that it was quite a look.

“Sol-.”

“It's nothing you haven't handled before,” the sorcerer continued, interrupting whatever further protests or questions I had before he started reciting the now very familiar shrinking spell I’d grown accustomed to hearing from the brothers. 

Almost immediately the lightheadedness and vertigo took over, dazing me and making my vision swim. I barely registered the sensation of being lifted from the ground, my eyesight refocusing in time to see Solomon’s mouth open above me. The elongated canines that had punctured my skin minutes prior now framed the dark confines of his bloodstained jaws and the warm, shaky exhale that washed over me was saturated with the scent of iron. My heart skipped a beat.

I knew any protest or words would fall on deaf ears but as I was lifted closer to Solomon’s open mouth with his tongue extending slightly to lay over his lower teeth I couldn’t help but weakly say, “If this ends up killing me, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

There was another, sharper exhale from the sorcerer and a slight upturn at the corner of his lips before I was transferred from his palm to the slick, textured surface of his tongue, the muscle curling behind me and drawing me into his jaws. Saliva instantly soaked into my clothes as teeth lightly clicked shut behind me to leave me in darkness, able to hear and feel everything around me flex as Solomon instinctively swallowed some excess saliva.

His breathing was more noticeably ragged from within his jaws, huffing as his tongue quivered beneath me. I was confused, laying in a tired daze and wondering why nothing was moving, used to being tasted, sometimes with aggressive fervor. From the way I could feel drool pooling beneath my back I could tell that I was appealing to him, but the question of whether or not it was brought on by the Vampiritis would have to wait until later. I realized when his tongue only gingerly lapped at me a couple times before gravity began to shift that he seemed to be desperately holding himself back.

“Right,” I mumbled, letting myself slide toward the back of his throat. “Kind of attacked me.”

Solomon probably didn’t want to hurt me more.

I grunted slightly as a swallow quickly dragged me into his gullet and more hastened my descent down his esophagus, breathing restricted by the tight confines and each inhale laced with the tang of blood. Slipping past the collarbone was more constrictive and I was able to hear the sorcerer let out an exhale of relief, felt the odd sensation of being tightly hugged on all sides by peristalsis pulling me yet able to discern the sensation of him leaning forward slightly.

“I can’t tell how much of it is the Vampiritis but… this is unnervingly satisfying,” he admitted, voice resonating down to my bones in my descent. “I really hope you’ll be able to breathe. I guess I’ll find out if you don’t flail.”

There he went, mentioning breathing again. I was almost confused but as I felt the slight pressure beneath me that precluded spilling into a stomach, I realized that he quite literally had his fill of me. There wasn’t even a splash as I was forced into the organ, just slipping into a chamber of blood that I was thankful I couldn’t see. Whatever he did to my choker was allowing me to breathe, which I was thankful for considering I hadn’t exactly braced myself to hold my breath, and oddly enough each inhale was clean air instead of iron-saturated liquid. Potentially some sort of personal breathing bubble, I wasn’t exactly going to summon a light source in here.

“You’re good, Solomon,” I mustered the energy to shout up, feeling for the nearest stomach wall in the space expanded with my own blood. I tried not to think about it too much.

“Thank goodness,” Solomon let out a sigh of relief. Everything sort of sloshed around as he moved, the force of him shifting and standing up making me sink a little. “It seems eating you has tempered the bloodlust slightly. I was worried that I was going to drain you, felt like I was starving and greedy even though I feel full. Now, to get Barbatos and-.”

Solomon was interrupted by the sound of the door breaking open and slamming against the wall, Mammon’s voice shouting in a panic, “KAT!”

“Uh oh.” Solomon and I muttered at the same time.

“I assure you, this looks far worse than it is,” Solomon told Mammon, and considering how bloody and disheveled the sorcerer and my room was, I didn’t think the demon would believe that. 

All I could do was wish Solomon luck and prepare to potentially be sloshed around.

[scoutsbabygirl]

the butcher of badwater; (yandere) sniper x reader [part 1]

i think we can all agree that mick is this deranged son of a gun that would rip into his enemies arms and tear their flesh off with this crazy look in his eyes. the community has come to this unanimous decision that mick is this crazy, insane, obsessive psychopath and to be honest, im here for it. here's a little blurb of mick being everything i just said with a tad bit of possessiveness. enjoy this hot mess!

red. his eyes were red. his cheeks were flushed red. he had tunnel vision on the man in front of him, blindly swinging his kukuri machete in all directions and angles. growls erupted from his vocal chords as he put more effort into each swing directed at the younger boy. high pitched screams of fear strained from scouts vocal chords at his limbs dodged every attempted strike of mick's knife. mick's words were unintelligible and hard to understand through his gritted teeth and yells.

"hey man!" scout yelled, jumping around in circles, looking back at the light glimmer off the blade of sniper's blade. "i-i-i i didn't do anything wrong!" he continued to stutter. nonverbal grunts emitted from micks' throat in an attempt to cut and/or stab the younger boy.

"i'm gonna fuckin' cut you up." the australian snarled under his breath solely concentrating on jeremy's exposed calves as he jumped around like he was being kept on an never ending loop. he knew that if he got to his legs- the thing that made him most valuable to the team would show him a lesson. one he wouldn't forget no matter how many countless times he sent him through and through respawn over and over again.

"boys! you're gonna get yourselves hurt!" dells left hand was cuffed around his mouth as he yelled, just beyond a rock far away to keep out of danger but close enough to witness the two mercenaries. a cold beer was in his in his other gloved hand. he was worried but he knew scout could easily outrun mick- hell, he could outrun anyone on the base. he's been able to outrun pyro and their flame thrower before which was arguably extremely impressive. maybe not you if he had taken your hairbrush or anything else you loved dearly, he wasn't ballsy enough to snatch your panties or bra.

he had contemplated it seriously a few times in the past before.

"you reckon i go down there and break all of that up?" engie looked over at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. he turned to you, with his hand over his shoulder, his thumb extended pointing to the two men. you noted how it was odd seeing him without those goggles. "i mean- what if he hurts him? then we're without our fastest guy." an audible scream of pain ripped through the air of his previous pleading and begging. his voice wasn't distinct nor comprehendible but his vocal chords emitted agony as. scout was sitting on the ground holding his left leg in the air. a big chunk of skin was hanging off his leg. it was graphic and grotesque.

as soon as your eyes saw this you inhaled sharply, making a "sss" noise through your teeth as you quickly looked away. yet, that image wasn't going to escape your mind anytime soon. covering your temple with your hand in an attempt to shield that sight away. it was already burned into a memory in your brain.

"oh darn, well, there goes our fastest guy." engie took a long sip from his drink, his eyes glued on the bloody scene no more than 30 feet away from him. the sounds of jeremy screaming at a dog whistle pitch and sobbing. "i reckon i'm gonna grab medic so he can fix him up. you want me to grab you a cold one from the freezer inside? there's one more newcastle. i don't know how you drink those nasty things, (y/n)." dell rambled on, nudging you in the arm, likely in an attempt to soothe your mind away from the trauma you just witnessed.

"dell- his skin was hanging off his fucking leg. did you..." you paused still shielding your wide eyes from his gaze. "did you see it?" this was your first time around one of these incidents, yes, the two of them could get in fights about nothing important where a verbal threats were common place for them sometimes accompanied with a gun drawn or a knife pulled out.

"it ain't nothing. i seen the whole leg off." sighing, he took another sip from his drink. "well, i'll be back!" he sounded annoyed. bothered that this was a commonplace event, he felt like he had to babysit them sometimes. you could hear his footsteps going farther and farther away. now, without dell in your ear you could hear more of their conversations from where they were.

jeremy was pleading for his life, repeating micks name.

mick?

jeremy never called him by his real name. it was always was "snipes" or "buddy".

you shot your head up to a scene right out of a horror film. scout looked like a mangled mess with a chunk of skin sliced off and his face beet red. mick was on top of him with the same bloody kukuri.

"dont. fucking. talk. to. my. woman. ever. again. cunt." mick screamed that birds would've flown off a telephone wire if there was one nearby. he was so loud it the noise made you cringe. between each word he brough the blade down into the poor boy's lower stomach, releasing this disgusting squelchy sound. the slushy sound sounded like when you were wearing boots and your sock got wet on the inside of the shoe. it was horrific. to you, this was amplified.

you gasped then covered your mouth. trying to make any sense of this. without thinking you ran towards them. you stumbled over a medium sized rock almost face-planting into the bright dusty new mexican sand littered on the ground. you were yelling anything to direct micks attention to you and away from mutilating scout.

"stop! stop! stop doing that!" you managed to grab both of snipers shoulders as he crouched in front of scout with blood covering the both of them and the ground surrounding the both of the mercenaries. "you're gonna kill him!" you shouted into his ear. this only caused mick to go even more crazy. thats what he wanted to do, sure, he knew he would be sent to the respawn in the base but just finally being able to cut into him to teach him a lesson was worth the lecture guaranteed from engie and/or medic later that evening.

you were crouched behind him, struggling to stay on your haunches and you rocked mick's body back and forth in an attempt to get him off jeremy. unfortunately, your much smaller frame wasn't able to do much despite your best attempts. you huffed trying your absolute best to get a hold of the much stronger and taller figure in front of you.

a few meek squeaks and a laboured breaths exited his mouth. you heard a thud from infront of mick, you couldn't see what it was due to micks' frame being in front of you but you could only assume it was scouts lifeless body hitting the ground.

dead.

[giggly-squiggily]

I have a headcannon where Megumi and Romantic!Reader watches horror movies, reader is always scared out of their mind after every horror movie, and Megumi always knows how to reassure them with comfort and tickles to get their mind off of the scary things.

I hope its okay to request this for the hc drabble eventt!!

AHH! *happy noises* I LOVE! God this was so cute! Anon, I've gotcha covered!

“Wow, what an ending.” Megumi let out a small sigh as the credits rolled, nodding to himself. “I didn’t think they’d take that route, but then…hey, are you okay?”

You were still as a statue, shaking all over as your mind replayed all the scary bits from the movie. Megumi leaned in, concerned.

“(Y/N)..?” He asked, gently touching your shoulder.

“AHHH!” You shrieked, flailing into his chest and looking around. “What-Oh. Oh geez…sorry, ‘Gumi. I..er..”

“Got scared?” He asked- a tad breathless after you knocked the wind out of him. You nodded, starting to lean away, but he was quick to ease you back gently, running a hand against your shoulder as he pressed your ear to his heartbeat. “I would have changed the movie for you.”

“No, I wanted to watch it.” Despite how they always left you scared, horror movies were some of your favorites. Once the initial scare wore off, you would always find yourself raving about them and wanting to watch it again to catch all the hidden lore.

“Heh.” Megumi laughed softly against your crown, squeezing you some the same way he always did post these kinds of movies. “Do you want me to do it?”

“Hm? Oh- yes please. Gentle though.” You asked, already giggling when he curled his fingers, dragging them softly up and down your side. “Aheahhaha, thahahank you.”

“You’re such an odd one, (Y/N).” He mused, not cruelly. “Loves horror movies even if they scare you, needs tickles to calm down, and after this I know you’re gonna ask me to take you for Boba cause ‘I’m scared and I deserve it.’” The last part he said just as you spoke- the words identical. You giggled even more into his chest, half due to the tickles and half because your boyfriend knew you so well.

“Yoohoohohu lohohohve mehehehe! Cahhahan whehehe get bohoohohba thohohohuh? I wahhahan’t some!” You asked, feeling him shake with laughter. “Ihiihihll pahahhahahy!”

“No, I’ll pay. That’s the rule.” He let up on his tickles, feeling you get up as you raced for your shoes. “Come on- before it closes for the night!” He heard you call out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He got up to join you, taking your hand as the two of you walked down to the store. The entire time, your fear was replaced with giddiness over your upcoming treat and the movie- sharing theories and thoughts with him the whole way.

It was just another part of you Megumi loved very much.

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a 300-500 word dabble for it!