#sorry just getting to some things from last night

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬

summary_ having an affair with General Acacius overseas while conquering lands turned into a problem after coming back to Rome, when you fell for a gladiator that turned out to be a missing prince.

warnings_ CRINGE, girthy age gap (legal) (I’m 20, sorry) historical inaccuracy, angst, violence, gore, animal death, sexism and misogyny, fluff but angst, a lot of canon divergence bc I said so. NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE!

note_ I can’t remember which year the movie is set in, I can’t remember many things but let me know if I fucked up too much. And listen to fallen fruit from Lorde while reading.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The sea was a free land. Nobody could conquer it because there wasn’t anything valuable floating around. Perhaps at the bottom of the ocean, a treasure may lay, but no man had shown the desire to dive into the deep.

The screams of the innocents are loud enough to make you feel empathy for them. But Acacius had trained you to put a mask of neutrality when leading war.

Loving the most effective soldier of Rome was your little secret. He married the daughter of an old emperor and he fought to get her privileges and prevent her from danger.

Always the insane little girl running around the palace, rambling about plants, the stars, a dream of Rome in flames. It was enough to be secretly sent to a scribe's university in Egypt for some time.

Upon your return, not much had changed, only that your father, once lead of the council, then the wise of Rome had died. Consequently, your evil stepbrothers were crowned emperors. They named you a soldier and made sure you were at every battlefront, hoping for your death.

But your general trained you well, and with months of practice, you ended up tangled up with him on his sheets in Greece.

Adultery was considered a crime in Rome and you’d give the perfect reason to your brothers to burn you like a witch. Or worse, to send you to fight at the arena of the Colosseum.

But the people who accompanied you and Acacius overseas were loyal and couldn’t care less if you had an older man fucking you each night. They only cared about you being a good soldier on the battlefront and being a good princess in Rome.

With a couple of hours left to be home again, you had your wounds checked. Conquering Numidia was one of the last African cities to be marked by the Romans and your brothers desperately wanted to own it. Only a few burns scattered across your leg and your shoulder needed stitches were the price to pay.

The wooden floor creaked and the general turned around alert but as soon as he saw you, he seemed to calm down.

Your arms wrapped around him and he immediately had to lean and kiss you. His lips tasted like devotion, peace, and lust. Acacius always grabbed your hips first. Then he moved to your waist, only to end up caressing your cheeks as his lips kept marking you his.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Acacius as he gasped for air.

“Nothing to worry about…” You nodded at him and he turned his back to you again, looking at his open windows, to the sea.

“What about yours? How is the scar on your nose?”

“It’s fine. Could’ve been worse” You walked towards him, sensing he had bathed like you as well, his hair looked perfectly curly and you couldn’t help but smile.

You could stay looking at the horizon forever, just because he was by your side. The sound of the waves calmed your mind after another day of calamities brought by war.

“For those who chose the sea, greatness waits at the end of the rainbow,” you said smiley. But the general remained stood silent.

“Those are ludicrous tells, the truth is that even war has infected the sea as well.”

“Because we chose to fight, then yes, the sea is also an arena. But if we chose not to, the way will not depict war” his eyes kept looking at you, completely fixated and even threatening, like Acacius was trying to understand how much you were judging him.

“We do this because we don’t have any other choice, princess y/n,” Acacius said, finally turning to look at you.

“We could run away, to the south, the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea are empty, nobody wants to live there” your voice trembling, nervous and waiting for his response. He stared at nothing, probably thinking. And that made you uneasy.

“I can’t leave Rome, I have to go back to…” he said coldly.

“Your wife….Right”

Silence. Even the sea seized the sound of the waves.

“Haven’t you told her?”

“What’s there to be told? I said this was only a thing of passion and lust” You bit your tongue at his harsh words.

“Was it? Would you say that all those nights you shared your past with me meant nothing, Marcus?”

There it was. His most personal name, that one nobody used. The general got closer to you, paying attention to your face. Princesses did not have scars, but you did. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. You noticed how his fingers were about to trace the pink scar on your chin but he moved away.

“I was drunk most of the nights, doping the pain” Finally your eyes crystallized.

“Do you love Lucilla, General?” His steps stopped then turned around to face you one last time.

His eyes looked doubtful but soon landed on his feet.

“… I do love her” you nodded, holding the tears and bursting out of his room in anger.

“Of course you do”

Your disappointment was so evident that Acacius was able to look at your face reddening and tears falling freely. He could only sigh and go back to pack his things and get ready to arrive in Rome again.

If only you knew…

…

The crowds of Rome couldn’t stop screaming your name. It was “PRINCESS Y/N!” and “ACACIUS!” everywhere.

You were no hero, you just wanted a peaceful life in a free Rome with the man you loved. And you can feel his hand brushing yours while his left salutes the parade of people chanting both of your names. The truth is you have no purpose but to serve your brothers and pretend that is your life.

The twins always hated you. Their mother was a wealthy woman but yours was the emperor’s true love. The twins used to pull your hair and always picked poisonous berries to give you as a meal while being toddlers. It got worse as everyone noticed you were your father’s favorite. And with him gone, you were utterly alone in the world.

Your clumsy steps made you arrive later. There was no crown for you waiting like it had been for Acacius. Geta and Caracalla were talking to him. And when you noticed the sword in the general’s neck, your face went serious.

“Do not forget the privileges we’ve made for your wife” you heard Geta saying.

“Same benefits we’re making for your whores, frater” The twins turned to look at you, quickly releasing Acacius and going straight to you. Their golden armors were a mere matter of display. They could barely wield a sword. They were bad with the bow and arrow and their reflections were poor too. They were good with numbers and shapes, but that wasn’t much in the city they shaped. One full of segregation and violence.

“Dear, soror… you’re back…” you think Geta gets closer to hug you, but his hand has raised and he gives you a sharp slap across the cheek.

“Dazzling and with such a big mouth as always” he added while you looked down, your cold hand against the reddening skin and sending him the worst look you had.

“Leave the princess alone, emperor. We should be focusing on the games ahead. We brought many slaves that some of them could fit as gladiators” Acacius said, looking affectionately at you, with disguise.

Caracalla only laughs in your face and his monkey reaches you for some seconds, but your brother pulls him away quickly. You wonder how far his disease has spread. Before leaving Rome, he was completely against seeing a doctor.

“Acacius is right, Geta. Let’s focus on the games” the twins agreed but sure, they had to humiliate you one last time.

“Alright then. But the next time I see you, dear y/n… I don’t want to see your hair down freely. You look like a whore and not the princess of Rome” he whispered loud enough to make everyone hear. But finally, the twins were gone.

“Are you alright?” The general asked but you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need your help, Acacius. I’ve dealt with Geta and Caracalla since the day I was born. Which was before we met you” he sighed, understanding you were still mad from your last conversation. He appreciated your free hair, long and healthy despite the fires you went through while in combat.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt. It’s enough they sent you to serve in the war when you should be here, safe from the horrors”

“Go home to your wife, Acacius. Your dinner will be cold…” you spit out with a bitter tone before walking away, disappearing through the walls of the palace.

…

Standing naked, dripping, and waiting for servants to dry you up, you stare at the dress hanging in your room. It had been months since you wore a dress, used to armor and tight braids, and the sensation of the fabric felt odd.

As a kid, you wished to befriend your servants, but they remained professional and apologetically brushed away your questions. Which made you feel even more lonely while they dressed you up; placing gold jewelry and rings with quartz, spraying perfume, and cleaning your teeth. Geta and Caracalla always stole the sweets from you as kids, you thanked them because instead, it was Caracalla who ended up with a decayed tooth and a gold one as a replacement.

“You’re ready, princess,” said one of the servants and you smiled at her as a thank you.

The whole time while you and your brothers awaited to arrive at the Colosseum, you ignored them. You sneaked away as soon as you arrived. Knowing the place like the palm of your hand, you took a secret passage, in hopes to go and tend your horse to delay the entertainment as long as you could.

Gladiator fights were of no interest to you. But the people loved it. Their ignorance made you understand why they hadn’t tried to throw your brothers from the thrones.

But being months away made you forgetful of the architecture of the Colosseum, forgetful enough to end up in the cells of gladiators. Looking perplexed, you gulped nervously. There were indeed many slaves brought.

Being the only woman there made you the center of attention. Even worse when you looked exactly like a princess would do.

“Princess y/n, What are you doing here?” Asked one of the high-rank soldiers, running towards you.

“I wanted to tend my horse. It was brought here by accident” you replied, eyes wandering through the cells, noticing the people inside them were full of new people, probably from Numidia. You wonder if they recognized you.

Your eyes met the ocean-blue ones of a man, he certainly recognized you as he looked at you with anger. You gulped once again, looking away from him. But his gaze had been so strong that you didn’t hear a servant come running from the end of the hallway.

“A TIGER ESCAPED! A TIGER ESCAPED! CLOSE THE DOORS!” he screamed and soon everyone went into panic mode. You didn’t have enough time to process what he said and do anything. You stood there confused for some seconds. The violent roars of the animal could be heard closer. You looked around trying to find a weapon.

“Stay behind me, princess,” said the same soldier but you didn’t trust him so you went to grab a bow and arrow. The prisoners yelled and quickly you understood they were having a private show. They hated you for being Roman, and they thought they would see you dying.

But you wouldn’t give them that satisfaction as much as you sympathized with them.

The tiger appeared, big and imposing. The animal was angry, visibly distressed, and ready to attack.

You had killed men, but an animal was different. There was no exact description of what to do. Just pure instinct. So you try to calm yourself before the tiger spots you and the soldier, who are the only ones that remain vulnerable. The guards closed the entrances as protocol, unbeknownst that you were there. And it had been too late to use the secret passage.

You felt the same man’s eyes on you and indeed, he looked carefully at you, probably wondering what would be your next move.

“PRINCESS, STAY AWAY!” The soldier screamed when the tiger came running towards you two.

The tiger jumped and threw the soldier, roaring as it tried to kill him. So you ran away in hopes of aiming at the eye of the animal to gain time. Your hands shaking and you could feel your legs get tangled up in the fabric of your dress. But your nervousness isn’t visible as your hands work on getting ready for the arrow. You don’t have time to calculate, the tiger has already bitten the soldier’s fingers.

You hit it very near the eye and the animal roared even louder, in pain. That’s when you spotted the sword the soldier had left behind, where you threw yourself to, as the tiger had tried to attack you again. The man with blue eyes pushed the sword towards you from inside the cell and you didn’t even look to thank him, you only grabbed the weapon and rolled to the right before the animal could scratch your face and kill you.

You heard the soldier cry out in pain but you couldn’t help him. Thinking you could end the beast chasing you, you failed, sinking the sword in the ribs of the animal. You felt a deep scratch in your arm and you cried out. Anger quickly builds up as you know you had to get out of there before everyone at the coliseum found out. The tiger roared one last time and before it could throw you to the sandy ground you grabbed another arrow and directly pierced the eye of the animal. Blood starts pouring and before the tiger can try to bite and break your neck, your hands end up in its mouth.

The fangs were dangerously digging into your hands and more blood started coming. Scarlet droplets fell all over your face and you didn’t care. You screamed in pain and pulled all the strength in your body to put the pressure on your arms and hands. The men inside the cells cheered and made you even more angered. Until you had torn open the tiger’s mouth, breaking its jaw and killing the animal.

Breathe….

Pushing the dead animal aside, you sighed, resting on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before taking a long breath and standing up.

Every man inside each cell looked at you quietly. What’s there to say?

Five guards open the main entrance and look confused at the mess, then at you tending the heavily injured soldier.

“Bring a doctor,” you tell them and they nod without asking more questions. Only one comes to your side.

“The games are about to begin, princess. I must escort you back to where you should be” Trying to catch your breath, you nodded.

“Do not say a word about this mess” The guard only bowed his head in agreement.

The least you could do was to put some bandages around the bloody hand of the soldier. Then you cleaned yourself and noticed you were a mess.

Giving that soon-to-be gladiator one last look, you tried to thank him with your eyes for what he had done to help you. He understood, giving you a cold nod.

And as you walked towards the royal platea, you wondered if that was the slave your brothers mentioned. A poet…

“Oh heavens! What happened to you?” Asked Lucilla as soon as you tried to take a seat beside Geta. Then everyone turned to look at you in horror. You noticed Acacius looked worried and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the blood in your dress and bandaged arm.

“An accident” you replied politely at the woman, not in the mood to face the wife of your ex-lover.

“You look horrible,” said Caracalla.

“It won’t; happen again, frater” you tiredly answered, sinking onto the chair, ignoring Acacius’ eyes on you.

Soon you are surprised to see the gladiator who helped you in the arena. You don’t face him when he ends up winning and he looks at you. But you do notice Lucilla’s behavior and quickly you have connected the dots.

What an odd coincidence…

…

This time, you checked the animals first, then you made sure nobody had seen you entering the cells, but you went where the mysterious gladiator of blue eyes rested.

“Barbarian, monkey eater, slave, gladiator…. Prince of Rome, How may I call you? Hanno or Lucius?” Soon you had him inches away from your face. At that moment, you had time to appreciate his features. He was handsome and looked pretty much like he belonged to Roman royalty. But his gaze was fueled by anger and pain.

“What do you want?”

“I know Lucilla came before me. She had been waiting for you ever since I can remember” he looked at you with cold eyes and unbothered. But you knew he was curious about you too.

“What do you care? You’re the princess, you support all of this” his anger was palpable, it was part of his way of fighting you had noticed.

“Who did you lose?” You asked.

“My wife” he replied after a little silence, you nodded apologetically. He didn’t believe you.

“My father was a friend of your grandfather, part of the council. Now I realize that when he was elected emperor, he started hunting you down. I’m sorry”

“You don’t. You joined their cause and you fight proudly on the battlefront. I saw you…” you chuckle sarcastically.

“The twins you met the other day are my half-brothers. And they have tried to kill me since I was born. They sent me to war as punishment, but Acacius trained me well enough to survive each battle”

“So what? Should I pity you?”

“No, please don’t. But I don’t support any of this. I want to be a free woman and be with the man I love but I don’t think I’ll live enough to make it happen” he seemed interested in your words but pretended he wasn’t. Either way, you kept talking.

“You can’t kill Acacius. He’s leading a rebellion against my brothers” he stood quiet, trying to taste the lies in your words. But you seemed very truthful.

“Interesting that you want his head when all I’ve wanted is his heart” Through the cell his eyes sparkled and looked tentatively at you, for some seconds you got too attached to them.

“What about Macrinus?” The old man had been trying to gain your brother’s trust and you thought that was suspicious.

“Don’t trust him. Stop sharing any detail that could tell him what you want or fear”

“I don’t trust you either”

“You shouldn’t,” you said, a little smile unconsciously appearing on your face. And to your surprise, Lucius smiled too. There was something about you that he found lovely. You seemed honest, but he couldn’t trust you yet. So he cursed once you had left, you had him looking forward to meet you again.

…

Across the room runs a large table filled with food. A variety of fruits, bread, lamb, duck, pork, and lots of wine. Your hands float around the punch though, reminding you of the first time you tried Egyptian beer. You ended up drunk with Marcus Acacius, laughing on the sand and soon both ended up naked. You frown, trying to forget that messy night.

“You’ve been oddly quiet these past days,” said Lucilla appearing by your side, grabbing more fruits and placing them on her plate.

“I’ve been busy”

“Have you met Macrinus?” She said pointing in disguise at the man who laughs with some senators and your brothers.

“He’s been around for some time. But I don’t like him” you confessed.

“I’ve also met his poet gladiator” you added, opting to not look at her eyes because she responded very shocked.

“What?”

“He wants to kill Acacius for the death of his late wife, avenge his homeland, etcétera etcétera. I told him not to because we plan to free the city. You can’t proceed with the nonsense of taking him out of the Colosseum. Your son can’t be the alibi to start a revolution, Lucilla” you said whispering. She gasped in shock, wondering how you knew already. All while you carefully watched if any of your brothers or that nosy man were looking. Not even Acacius was looking.

You sigh, shrugging and looking at the woman.

“As soon as he came out wielding that sword in the arena, your face said everything. Then just by hearing his mysterious backstory. It was obvious, Lucilla” She didn’t say anything else, so you continued.

“I shall repeat myself once again. You won’t encourage Acacius to get your boy out of the Colosseum.”

“Why not?” you chuckled at the woman.

She was very pretty, sweet and caring. No wonder why the general loved her.

“You and your husband were lucky that I found out one of your maids heard everything and was about to spill it”

“What did you do, y/n?” She asked tired, thinking destiny was so meticulous and how you had ended up in such a position to hear and stop the maid before chaos unleashed.

“Let’s say I granted her eternal silence,” you said, Lucilla sighed, understanding. And before she could thank you, you spoke again.

“Wait till Lucius is in the arena to save him. And stop looping Acacius into this madness, you’ll make him get killed” She understood everything by the way your eyes looked at her. It shocked her, but she remained calm as you left to sit at the table. Only a woman in love spoke with a mix of venom and sweetness like that.

Taking a seat beside the General, he turned to look at you.

“What were you talking about there with Lucilla?” He asked in a very low but deep tone.

“Just gossiping about Senator Brutus and his new wife…” he knew you were lying but tried to act normal.

“Princess y/n… How true are those rumors about you breaking the jaw of a tiger?” asked a scribe, making you look away from Acacius, Lucilla returned to the table and your brother was already laughing at you for something you couldn’t hear.

“Well… it’s true, domine.” The table burst into laughter. Only the general and his wife remained silent.

“You did what?” Asked Acacius looking at you in horror.

“A princess shouldn’t be in combat” added Macrinus, making you set your eyes on him.

“Oh I am a princess but I’m also a soldier, domine. And I have to thank my brothers because they made me a woman capable of wielding more than one weapon by sending me to war” The twins stopped laughing. Geta sipped from his wine and returned to you.

“That’s true. While you were there getting battle scars, Caracalla and I focused on diplomacy, ensuring we gained more land” You want to laugh at his face. The council did that, not the twins.

“Did you ensure the poor were stable by cutting from the rich? Did you do the math to financially cover each branch Rome rules, Geta? Or did you and Caracalla just point at lands on a map to get like prizes?”

“y/n…” Acacius whispered your name, trying to make you stop. The tension has risen very quickly.

“You have one task, soror. To give us India. A woman shouldn’t even be speaking on the table” Caracalla said when you were about to stand up and burst out. Marcus grabbed your hand under the table.

And immediately calmed you down.

“I’m only saying you should wisely rule this great empire. Do not let it fall…”

Soon the chatting turned into drinking after the awkward moment. When most of the men were getting drunk you returned to the table, cautiously grabbing food again. When you looked up, you encountered the image of Acacius kissing Lucilla. And it made your blood boil.

In a thick piece of fabric, you placed bread, some fruits, cheeses, and a small piece of lamb.

“What are you doing?” you nearly screamed when you noticed Acacius standing by your side.

“I’m grabbing food”

“Isn’t it a little late to eat again?” He wasn’t judging you, he never would, but he was very curious.

You would start up a little fire after seeing the painful image of him kissing his wife.

“It’s not for me…” before he could ask you you sprinted away. His blood boiled too, his hand firmly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“What are you playing?” He asked.

“Playing? I’m definitely not”

“Is this some kind of punishment for what I told you days ago?” You sighed.

“I didn’t mean to say it was nothing. But… you have to wait, y/n” Acacius whispered and you chuckled.

“I’ve waited long enough to realize you will always be trapped in a marriage with two different kinds of love. And Lucilla will never love you like you want because her heart will always beat for that gladiator whose name was carved from the Colosseum”

You had raised your voice, Lucilla was looking at you two, and everyone else was drunk. So you violently flinched away from the man, who looked at you with a mix of pain and rage.

You leave and he immediately sends a guard to follow you in disguise.

“We must talk,” Lucilla said to Acacius, taking his hand.

He nodded.

…

What did that man have that made you feel safe? He didn’t protest when you walked inside his cell. He didn’t demand you to go away. He quietly lets you inside, talk, and explain yourself.

Two visits filled with food from your dinners were enough to let him know you had no intention of killing him. Your curiosity must’ve been too big, his eyes too attractive, and an odd vibration that warmed your chest.

To be honest, you had no idea why you came back to him. You just felt something. And you hated to admit it.

“If the emperors have made your life so difficult, Why didn’t you leave?” Lucius asked. He had eaten everything you gave him and was sitting beside you on the dirty floor.

“Every time I tried to escape, I couldn’t make it far enough. So I stayed and accepted my fate. To serve them will keep me alive ” he nodded, finally understanding why you hadn’t revealed yourself against the evil emperors.

“You didn’t come down here just to talk”

“I didn’t. I- I guess I just want to believe you’ll do something greater than I have always tried. Everyone talks about your rage but I think you quite act like a prospect hero… with honor” you revealed and wanted to cut your thong like you did with that old maid. You hated oversharing. But instead, Lucius chuckled and you frowned confused, expecting him to talk.

“You reminded me of my wife…”

“How so?”

“She said similar things to you” Most unexpectedly, you blushed. Thankfully the darkness of the cell made it unnoticeable.

“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here before your mother does something rushed”

“I was very harsh with her”

“How couldn’t you? I would have behaved the same way. But she loves you and she doesn’t want to let you go just when she found you” Lucius smiled once again, making you remain still, unsure of what to do next. Soon you realized the sun was very close to coming up again.

How many hours had you spent talking with the rightful Prince of Rome?

“I must go, Geta and Caracalla will know I spent the night away,” you said standing up, trying to clean the mess your dress had become.

“Will I see you again before that revolution happens?” You smiled, walking back near him.

He was tall, you had to completely raise your head to face him.

“The final day of the games is closer. I’ll bring you more food and I’ll try to see what will the next encounters look like”

“Thank you. I judged you too fast…” he said and you chuckled.

“You still have time to change your mind”

You didn’t notice when he closed the distance. Just when his face had been inches away from yours, you gasped.

But neither of you two protested, your lips touched his at the same time.

Tasting the wine you brought him made you feel intoxicated. No intrusive thoughts appeared while you kissed him.

You could only taste his passion, his need to take control. But all his hidden softness too. One of his hand caressed with softness your cheek and the other grasped your neck.

“Stay safe, Lucius,” you said as you moved away from him.

…

The whole day was lost because you spent it sleeping. Only when you woke up for dinner, did you learn you had missed the games of the day. But Lucius was alive at least. You dreamt of his kiss but when you woke up you had an odd sensation in your stomach. Confusion filled you and then… ache.

As you brushed your hair, you got lost looking at a red candle. It had been a present from your father some years ago. A red candle to be lit whenever you felt like you needed to feel love, he had said.

The wise emperor had wished to see his daughter with her true love. Just like had always wanted but couldn’t.

There was a broad shadow that you spotted through the mirror. It made you pull out a silver knife and point a the figure.

Soon the cape was removed and you sighed but also gasped shocked to see Acacius standing in the middle of your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked worriedly, standing up and hurrying to close your windows.

“You had spent all these past nights in the Colosseum,” he said, sounding a little angered.

“Now you’re spying on me, Acacius?” He sighed exasperated.

“What are you doing with that gladiator?”

“What do you care?” You asked with defiance.

“He’s going to get you in trouble, princess y/n” Your eyes pierced his, but you decided to move away, leaning against the towers of your bed.

“He deserves more. And not only him, but every slave we brought and all those we left in ruins” you admitted, looking at the fire of the candle.

“They do, but it’s not our duty, at least not yet. We need to focus on the plan we have…” you wanted to roll your eyes and yell at him, his wife could’ve ruined everything and he was only paying attention to you.

Only paying attention to you?

“Stop going to see that man”

“His name is Hanno and I’ll visit whenever I desire” you spit out with bitterness and you knew he was angry. Acacius clenched his jaw and sighed once again. Under his cape rested his armor, his hair messy, and his scars fading.

“Why? Because he makes you feel things?”

You remained quiet. As simple as it was, his question took you by surprise.

“I-… I don’t know. I had no reason to go back to him, but I did it anyway”

“Oh heavens, y/n. Don’t you see that I’ve always told you to wait? Because I’m counting every golden coin I have to give you that house on the island you always point at. To leave Rome with you…”

It took you on a curve. You didn’t know what to say, only the tears wanted to be present.

His hands found your hips and his lips seek yours. Sometimes, while being overseas, you two would argue. And the only cure was to be silent and kiss after a day of ignoring each other.

This time feels different. You feel so confused.

His forehead softly bumped yours and you two stayed like that for some time.

“If you had those ideas to fulfill with me. Why do you remain married, Marcus?” He smiled.

“That’s different, satis. I was set to marry when you were very young. I just can’t undo it.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only doing this because you feel pressured?”

“It’s not like that”

“Either way you wouldn’t tell me that you love me. So it’s in vane…”

“BUT I DO LOVE YOU!”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. For a moment you thought you could only hear how your heartbeats slowly thumped. What you wanted to hear for years had been delivered. It felt good, even right to hear it. And when you were about to believe it, something clicked.

“No, Marcus. You just realized you hate the idea of me falling in love with someone else. Even worse when it’s the son of your wife”

Without the strength to say anything else, you moved away. Your feet quickly dragged you out of your room, and then out of the palace.

You walked through the streets of Rome, seeing all the hunger, poverty, the lack of love from the government.

By midnight you arrived at the shore. The warm sand cured your bolting mind.

There was an imminent battle coming up. You had a place in the rebellion. And yet you had to be only thinking in two men. Who had made a mess of you in a matter of days.

You had nothing with any of them. It was just the causality of what they made you feel.

Lucius made you feel like the woman you would’ve been if you had escaped Rome years ago.

Acacius made you feel adored like the woman you turned into wasn’t as bad as you thought. He believed in you.

But it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough. Your mind was spiraling and you realized you were sobbing in the middle of the dark. You can hear and faintly distinguish the sea. You had cracked, like the fallen fruit every poet and philosopher always mentioned.

And even when you knew you had to only focus on the war, you still didn’t know what to do. You barely knew the men that had you losing it.

_________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @willowpains @nicolebarnes

I don’t love the ending but I genuinely don’t know who should reader end up with. PLEASE SEND IDEAS!!

[yunniverse]

You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—”

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 4 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.0k (can you see the trend)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), still a lot of cussing, some mature themes (no smut, sorry), we're finally in the headquarters!, the story moves significantly along here (i think)

a/n. this one took a second to get out, but i hope the wait was worth it! we're going knee-deep into the storyline, so brace yourselves for the nitty gritty. the dialogue here was too fun to write tho lol

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

Neither of you says anything about what happened.

After you used your quirk on Masaki and the rest of his crew, eventually convincing them to let you take off the bugs and censor the cameras in the evenings, you and Bakugou were briefed about a few more details before you went your separate ways, returning home to pack up your things and spend your last night alone for the foreseeable future.

The trek back to the subway station was quiet, with Bakugou leading the way and you trailing a few feet behind. The silence that enveloped the both of you bordered on tense more than awkward, and you itched to confront him about unceremoniously jumping you, but restrained yourself at the looming thought of the trackers planted firmly against your chest.

As much as it pained you to think about it, from this point on, you have to work double time on biting your tongue and watching your words. Just your words and location—if you’re lucky—but your facial expressions and movements, too, when there are cameras around.

Fortunately, there weren’t any when Bakugou didn’t step out of the carriage just as the automated voice announced his stop, nor when he wordlessly got out of the train beside you at yours. Your face contorted in evident confusion in those two instances, to which he only tossed you silencing looks. It didn’t take long for you to realize it’d be suspicious if Bakugou didn’t see you home—his alleged girlfriend—this late into the night.

And so you rolled with it.

You even went ahead and thanked him with the sweetest possible voice you can muster when you reached your front door, as well as wished him a safe trip back home. You think you caught him off guard, but he was able to quickly gather himself and mutter back a few words of gratitude before telling you to get a good night’s rest.

You couldn’t.

Aside from the paranoia that came with knowing someone or some people were listening to your very breathing, the anxiety about this whole mess that you’ve walked into was too palpable for you just to ignore. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours—brain buzzing with a hundred what-ifs and hypothetical scenarios—before you eventually knocked out at around 3 AM.

You promptly woke up at 7 AM a few hours later, albeit begrudgingly and all thanks to your bothersome alarm tone. You had to show up at work, despite it being a Saturday, to file an indefinite leave as soon as possible. Annoyance shot through you as you remembered Kouki’s dismissive remark about your job in contrast to Bakugou’s.

You shook it off.

There were more important things to deal with, such as the guilt that bloomed in your gut as you turned in the paperwork to Yuzuki, your school’s HR personnel, who, at the sight of them, visibly deflated.

“You’re going on a leave?” she asked that cool morning, incredulous and tone somewhat begging you to say no.

“Yeah…” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

“But why?” she pressed, sitting up behind her desk that’s riddled with knickknacks and picture frames of her and her toddler. “You never take off from work. And,” she enunciated, “…the kids need you, Y/N.”

Your polite smile faltered at the mention of the kids.

“Yeah, well…” you started, unsure of what to say next. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a temp, what with the recent licensure exam results. The kids won’t even notice I’m gone, I promise.”

She cocked her head to the side, frowning. “I highly doubt that.”

It didn’t matter if she had her doubts, though, because this was happening. You braced yourself to tell Yuzuki just that, but to your relief, she didn’t push further after that exchange, opting to half-heartedly process your request instead.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, you were already cleared by her department and now officially on a short indefinite leave without pay.

In an attempt to take your mind off of potentially losing your job, you stopped by the grocery store on your way home and picked up a few items, such as toiletries and other things you may need for your stay in the headquarters. There was no telling when you’d get to shop for your necessities again, so you went full ham and spent the money you usually budgeted meticulously to the nearest cent. Besides, if you succeeded in this mission, you wouldn’t have to worry about finances for the next year, at the very least.

You were about to head to the check-out counter when your eyes caught the display of…house slippers in the back aisle.

You paused at the sight of them.

If you were going to be under house arrest, you might as well be cozy while doing so.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed a beige pair for yourself, and a black pair for Bakugou. You had no idea what his feet size was, but those were the largest they carried, and so that’d have to do. Plus, you doubted quirk supremacists were mindful enough to provide their hostages with comfortable footwear.

It was already around 4 PM when you arrived home with your arm-numbing groceries and takeout dinner in tow. Setting them aside by your kitchen counter, you quickly got started on gathering your necessities. You blasted your favorite album as you packed your suitcase partly to make the arduous process more bearable, but mostly to drown out the voices that fought to take the reins in your head. You were nervous—very much so—but there was no going back from this.

And so with a heavy heart and a churning stomach, you swiftly got to work, and by dinner time, you were already packed up and ready to go. After going through your checklist one more time and confirming that everything was accounted for, you got changed into fresh, more appealing clothes and scarfed down the meal you purchased to-go after shopping.

You sat in your living room with all your things stacked beside you on the couch, waiting, though it didn’t take long for Kouki to materialize by the kitchen with that irritatingly haughty expression on his face.

You tried to ignore the disgust that sprung as you watched him step on your freshly washed rug with his booted feet, choosing to shift your attention upwards instead. You observed him as he eyed your belongings with mild disinterest, before shifting to regard you.

“Ready?” he asked, holding up one hand for you to take, while the other moved to touch the pile of stuff.

You didn’t bother to verbalize your consent, resorting to just nodding as you gingerly took his hand. Your surroundings instantly morphed the moment that you did, and you found yourself going through the now-familiar motions, emerging smack dab in the middle of your floor’s hallway a few seconds later.

Kouki was gone just as quickly as he arrived, apparently way above helping you move your things to the space at the end of the hall. The same goes for the twins, who only watched you as you lugged your baggage into the room.

You locked eyes with the female guard, and for a second, you debated engaging her in conversation.

You already knew what to say. You’d ask her if they were sure about you staying in, when Kouki can just teleport you to your respective apartments at the end of each day if they’re so worried about you getting spotted.

Besides, you thought as she glared at you with seemingly unfounded hate, that means we’ll be out of your hair.

But as tempting as it was to bring up that alternative at the moment, you ultimately thought better against it.

You already used your luck to convince them to turn off the trackers at night—something they probably wouldn’t do if you and Bakugou lived outside due to the lack of backup surveillance. It simply wouldn’t be smart and cautious of them if they did. You also didn’t want to undo that already tall order of a bargain when what you needed the most was the privacy in which you could discuss the mission and steps moving forward.

Besides, you bet your money it’s not just that. The teleportation quirk of that old geezer has to have a limitation somehow…

You let all these simmer in your head as you settled in for the night. To your chagrin—you wanted at least one night where you get to sleep on the decent-looking bed—Bakugou showed up not an hour later with his own luggage.

You didn’t say anything to each other aside from brief ‘Hey’s’ as he entered the room and unpacked his belongings, as well as when he disappeared into the small comfort room and showered.

You decided then and there that you both had to work on your conversing skills if you wanted a shot at making this ruse believable for the sake of the mission.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, decked out in lounge clothes and haphazardly drying his ash-blonde hair with a towel, it was already 8 PM sharp—your agreed-upon time to retreat for the night and consequently, remove your trackers.

And so you wordlessly filed out of your room, only to see the twins already at your front door, waiting. You doubted they ever left their post ever since you arrived.

You eyed the male twin as he sashayed into your room before his sister called you to attention. Other than that, the exchange was nothing but silent and perhaps a little bit hostile as the woman roughly stuck her hand up Bakugou’s shirt then yours, similar to last time, and removed the devices. You fought back a wince just as she ripped it from your skin, leaving a stinging feeling in its wake.

You could tell she was resisting the urge to shove you back to your room when the deed was done. You didn’t want to risk being her punching bag, so with a curt nod, you promptly turned back and once again entered the room, with Bakugou following you just as the other twin exited and closed the door behind him. Looking up, you immediately registered how the cameras were now facing down—covered—and the red, flickering lights were nowhere to be seen.

An instantaneous wave of relief flooded through you.

Bakugou must’ve noticed, because he whipped to face you, and the disturbed expression on his face was enough to shut you up.

He tilted his head, perhaps gesturing to the rest of the room, and it took you a second, but you eventually managed to make out what he was trying to say.

Shut your trap, his icy stare told you. Check the room for bugs.

And so with a nod of understanding, you tossed him a look right back before quite literally turning the room upside down. It probably took you at least 10 minutes to uncover and check every surface, nook, and cranny, but by the time you both were pretty sure you were safe, you were already stifling a yawn.

And having a hawk eye must come with the job description, because that didn’t go unmissed by the pro-hero, who wordlessly took one of the two pillows from the bed, as well as the throw blanket on top of the actual duvet cover, before tossing both on the brown couch.

You were just about to thank him for preparing your ‘bed’ for you, but you didn’t get to, because you were very much robbed of all words when he plopped himself down on the couch, wrapping himself with the quilt.

“What are you—”

“Don’t argue,” he cut you off, his commanding tone comically juxtaposing how snug he looked with his head barely peeking out of the cloth. You’d laugh at the way his large feet were poking out at the end of it if you weren’t in a contentious mood.

You frowned. “You’re the guest of honor. I should be the one sleeping on the couch.”

“If it bothers you that much—” Bakugou piped from where he laid comfortably on the (p)leather furniture, “—we can take turns. Tomorrow, I get to sleep on the bed, and so on.”

“But—”

“Conversation’s over. ‘Night.”

With that, Bakugou flipped on his side, turning his back against you, effectively shooting the conversation down in its entirety.

You stood there for what felt like a couple more minutes, keen on shaking him awake, maybe even yanking him off the couch and planting yourself on it before he could wrap his head around what was happening, but you ultimately decided to let it go, at least for now.

You wished him a good night as you turned off the lights and snuck into the queen-sized bed a few moments later, although you bet he was already fast asleep based on the lack of a reply.

Which was good for him, because he needed the rest for what was about to crash into you the next day.

Apparently, Masaki wasn’t kidding when he said groups like theirs needed the space to conduct their activities, because they sure handle a lot.

At 8 AM, you were roused awake by a violent knocking on your door, and you could tell Bakugou was awoken by the very same thing, because he shot up in alarm just as you did. You quickly got up and padded to the entryway, trying to ignore the silly embarrassment of being seen in your threadbare pajamas in broad daylight, before whipping to look at the man. You didn’t have to say it, though—Bakugou was already grabbing his pillow and blanket and plopped into the bed, lying down as if he was there the entire night. Only when he was fully settled did you turn the knob open, only to see the female twin scowling at you. Her hand was held up, on top of which were two trackers.

“It’s breakfast time,” she spat out—literally, some of her saliva landing on you. She looked over your shoulder to glare at Bakugou. “Hurry up and get ready. You’ve got a full day ahead of you.”

Behind you, a distinct grumble sounded out across the room, and you glanced back to see Bakugou getting up from the mattress and folding his blanket, a deep frown etched on his sharp features.

Looks like someone’s a morning person, you thought to yourself.

Not wanting to aggravate her even further, you wasted no time in getting dressed and presentable enough. You debated on whether or not to spend five minutes putting on makeup, ultimately deciding to do so, with you ending up patting on just enough product to look eye-catching before you and Bakugou went down to the mess hall to eat breakfast.

Immediately upon entering the space, you found yourself thankful for that extra five minutes because all eyes were on you. Well, maybe more on Bakugou, but they inevitably drifted to you, the person who walked next to him side by side. You could hear the people whisper to themselves as you moved to sit at the table near the back, before it hit you and you froze.

“What?” asked Bakugou from across you, who followed suit and paused, butt hanging mid-air.

“Come and sit next to me,” you blurted out, and before he could react in a way that would incriminate you both: “I want to sit beside you, babe.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened ever so minutely at the pet name, his face then sobering up as if he just realized what you were trying to do.

You wished you could spell it out for him, that couples tend to sit next to each other rather than across, and…you needed to seem like one who is head over heels for each other around these people as well. Thankfully, you didn’t have to, because Bakugou merely nodded without question, before rounding the table and seating himself right next to you.

You did your best to tune out the looks and murmuring throughout the entire meal, after which you got swept to one of the halls for an introductory talk for the new members. There were eleven of you in total, including you and Bakugou, the rest of whom you didn’t recognize. They didn’t even hide their surprise and awe when the two of you walked in and sat yourselves at the farthest row beside each other. You tried to radiate an aura of friendliness, smiling at the others when they looked at you, and then beaming at Bakugou whenever you caught him looking your way.

You could tell he was having a hard time playing the part, his smile strained whenever he attempted to return the motion. It was probably after the third time of trying to get a reaction from him when you mustered the courage to bring a hand to his shoulder, kneading the muscle as a form of an affectionate gesture, but mainly to get him to relax. He initially tensed at the contact, but eventually loosened up as you continued the action.

Soon enough, the talk commenced, with someone you didn’t know presenting himself as Kazuma, one of the officers of the organization. He went on to formally introduce the association, named The Quirk Coalition, as a group of like-minded individuals who aim for a future where quirks are nurtured and fostered to their fullest potential in a democratic society that puts a primacy on said powers. You noted how they conveniently left out the part where they detest the weak and the quirkless, although you did not comment on it. You only glanced at Bakugou one time, who looked onto the stage with tight lips.

Kazuma also went through the hierarchy of the organization, starting with Masaki at the top just as you suspected, then Sayaka and Kouki, followed by Hiroto and Omiru—the two who you recognized as the twins, looking like they just got their mugshot taken in the photos. Kazuma sat there at the lower tier alongside several other officers, under which were the regular members, totaling about 70—some of whom live in the headquarters and most going in and out, having normal jobs during the day and families to tend to.

You don’t know how they got it, but at the bottom row of the chart was a picture of you, right beside Bakugou dressed in his full hero gear.

You let the reality sink in as Kazuma droned on about the group’s beliefs, how they equally valued their ideals and the people who carried out these ideals. You made a mental note of this piece of information, before accidentally zoning out for the rest of the lecture.

The next seven days went on roughly the same way, with either of the twins serving as your unfriendly alarm to demonstrating PDA in the mess hall during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with talks, history classes, support group sessions, and even quirk training nestled in between mealtimes.

You and Bakugou went through every single thing together, from sitting out the ‘classes’ where the teachers essentially waxed poetic about rewritten history with a strong bias against the quirkless, to attending what felt like group therapy where you each took turns sharing your ambitions and goals as members of the organization. Bakugou even partook in one of the quirk training sessions, wherein he practiced shooting precise targets while propelling himself in the air.

You couldn’t decide if he was trying to act all serious for the mission or was just showing off—could’ve been both, really, but regardless, his efforts were enough to catch the eyes of the fellow members working on their respective quirks. You, on the other hand, sat to the side and watched the pro-hero do his thing, not being able to ‘practice’ anything without a partner to ‘boost’—or really, manipulate.

Needless to say, you’ve both been busting your ass pretending to be eager, dedicated members, but aside from the information readily provided in the forums, you haven’t had much luck extracting details that could prove to be useful for the mission, a fact that you’re now planning to bring up with Bakugou, a full week into moving into the headquarters…

…After you finish checking the bedroom for bugs.

It’s become some sort of an unspoken nightly routine for the both of you. The second the door shuts behind you after the trackers have been taken off and you’ve checked that the cameras are pointed downwards, capped, and are not blinking anymore, you go to your respective halves of the room and thoroughly check each inch for a wiretap. Neither of you dare to say anything compromising until you’ve completed the survey, and even then you’ve telepathically agreed to watch your choice of words.

Still, you can’t deny the familiar sense of reprieve whenever this time of the day comes along, and you’ve since associated these moments with Bakugou with comfort.

Which is probably why you have the audacity to joke around.

“Are they comfy?” you ask just as you plaster your butt down into the couch. You’ve had your fun yesterday, sleeping easily in the soft bed. You watch Bakugou as he eyes you warily, sitting on the edge of the mattress, facing you.

He huffs, crossing his legs. “Are what comfy?”

You point to his feet with your lips. “The slippers. They were buy one take one, you know.”

At that, he smirks. You can’t help but feel your own smile growing.

“I don’t think that’s something you should be bragging about, princess.”

Flying right past the tail end of that sentence for your sanity, you force a frown on your face. “Why not? It was a great deal. And, I’m sure yours are comfy. Mine are.”

He leans back on his hands that are firmly planted at his sides. He’s still smirking. “So why bother asking me in the first place if you already knew the answer to the question?”

You open your mouth to retort a witty comment, but come up short. Bakugou’s smirk morphs into a grin when you do. You wrinkle your nose in disdain, “I was just trying to make small talk. You’re welcome, by the way.”

The pro-hero only chuckles at that, before sitting up and bringing his hands forward, one holding and wringing the other arm’s wrist.

You study him for a beat, and then the cameras, which are still turned down and capped with a lens cover.

And when he only continues the rotating motion, you finally speak up.

“…What are we gonna do now?”

Bakugou’s eyes shift upward from his wrist to look at you, the softness that was just in his gaze a second ago now replaced by his trademark caution. You try not to focus on the disappointment of having caused that, as well as the misplaced longing for what was once there.

It takes him a while to reply, his features contorted into a look of deep thought. But when he does so, he straightens his back. “We—”

A barrage of heavy knocks resounds from the door, startling both of you and cutting Bakugou off. It’s immediately followed by a gruff voice, which you can now easily recognize as Hiroto’s.

“You’re not making any noise,” comes his bite, although it’s slightly muffled. “You better think twice about planning something behind our backs, you two.”

You roll your eyes. You understand any hostility coming from the members, as you and Bakugou come with risks that can potentially harm the organization that they hold dearly. But even you can say that the twins are taking it a bit too far with the harsh treatment.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think their being extra hard on you has something to do with Masaki agreeing with the off-surveillance.

“Fucking relax,” Bakugou seethes in their direction. “Just because we’re not audibly having sex doesn’t mean we’re talking shit.”

You snort. Bakugou whips to look at you, the corners of his lips upturned.

That seems to put a plug on Hiroto, because the man doesn’t say anything after that. Once again, you’re met with silence, with you and Bakugou sitting on your respective furniture, looking at anything but each other.

It’s him, though, who finally breaks it a few minutes later with a clear of his throat.

“We keep at it—” Bakugou starts carefully, “—is what I was trying to say earlier. They’re gonna discuss the plans with us sooner than later.”

…Patience, huh?

You can do that.

Nodding, you adjust your position on your seat. You don’t dare to ask him to expound or add your own thoughts on the matter. Better to be safe than sorry, even though you’re pretty sure your room is free of bugs.

So instead, you finally give in and steer the conversation to something that’s been plaguing your mind ever since the commission kidnapped you a little over a week ago.

“Bakugou,” you begin, and he looks at you expectantly. You gulp. “Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Depends on the question.”

“…So might as well shoot your shot,” he finishes when you don’t say anything.

Well, then.

You blurt it out before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Don’t get me wrong, alright? I know you’re strong and all that. But…” you trail off, fixing your eyes on him, “Why did they specifically want you of all heroes?”

Almost instantly, Bakugou’s smug expression is wiped off his face just as it falls.

You scramble to backtrack.

“Sorry if that’s too invas—”

“Are you sure we were batchmates?” he cuts you off, a brow raised in question. “Back in UA?”

You stare at him. Where is he going with this?

“Yeah?” you reply, not at all willing to try and jog his memory with the only prominent exchange between the two of you. So instead, you toss the query back at him: “Why?”

“Because if we were, you would’ve heard about the rumors about me, unless they weren’t as widespread as I thought.”

You feel your brows furrow. “Rumors?”

He peers at you for what feels like an eternity, before shaking his head in what you think is resignation. His body language has changed drastically, you note—the distinct confidence from earlier now long gone, having been replaced with…shame?

He heaves a deep breath.

“I was a bully,” he finally declares, meeting your gaze. “I bullied someone for being quirkless. I guess you could say I had a…” he hesitates, as if he’s trying to filter his words,” …certain mindset up until late into our first year.”

He shakes his head again, which is now bowed down toward the floor. “I did some pretty…awful stuff, to say the least.”

And before you can say anything, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me about what I did.”

“I wasn’t going to,” comes your speedy response. That causes him to look up again and at you, a surprised look written on his face.

“Well, that’s a first.”

“I don’t have to know,” you reason, schooling your features into a neutral, even sincere expression. “Besides, I can clearly see there’s remorse. There’s no need to reopen that can of worms, especially if you’ve tried to make amends.”

You pause, eyeing him. “Have you?”

He tosses you a look of offense, as if you just accused him of being a serial killer. “Of course. And he’s forgiven me. What do you take me for?”

“Someone who feels remorse—” you chuckle, “—just like I said.”

He shoots you a glare, although it’s playful and has no bite to it. “Smartass.”

You grin at him. “I am smart, aren’t I?”

Bakugou doesn’t verbalize his agreement, but he doesn’t deny it either. Instead, he turns the table on you.

“You’re a guidance counselor, aren’t you? You use your quirk on your clients?”

You gasp, insulted. That grants you a smirk from him. “No! Of course, not. What do you take me for?”

He shrugs, “What? It makes sense to me.”

“So should this thing called ethics, which I follow and is very important, especially for people like me who work in the mental health field.”

That doesn’t seem to convince him. “Why’re you in this field, then? If not for its compatibility with your quirk?”

You think about it for a beat.

“I guess you can say my quirk did play a part in all of this, but not as my crutch,” you eventually explain. “Using it made me realize how much I like making people feel and do better, which is something that I now do with evidence-based techniques as a counselor. Plus, my job trains me in identifying emotions, which, you know…”

—helps with maximizing your quirk.

But you don’t say it out loud for fear of getting exposed, and it seems like that’d be unnecessary, because understanding flashes across Bakugou’s eyes. He nods, and that’s all you need to know he gets what you’re leaving unsaid.

“That’s a pretty noble cause,” he offers, although it comes out a bit awkward.

Still, you flash him a genuine smile. He looks away.

…Right at the wall clock, which now reads a little too late o’clock.

“You should get some sleep,” says Bakugou just as you are about to tell him the very same thing.

And when you don’t respond: “Are you sure you wanna sleep on the couch?”

‘What, are you proposing we share the bed?’

…Is what you would say if you were a fucking lunatic, which you’re glad you aren’t, because you don’t know how you’d survive this hell of a mission if you were.

Instead, you nod, shooting him a grateful look as you move to lay back and drape the blanket over your body. “Bask in the luxury of a proper mattress, your highness.”

You don’t get to see his reaction anymore in your new position, but you bet your cheap but surprisingly ergonomic slippers that he’s grinning with the way he snorts loudly.

“Stupid.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[archangeldyke-all]

I got sevika blue screening after being called my butch on the mind rn. especially if it was said casually. I think it's one of those things that never fails to make her secretly swoon after the first time

GODDDDDD FSDG

men and minors dni

sevika's never really liked the term 'girlfriend.'

it's not that she doesn't want to be in an established relationship-- especially since she's met you-- it's just... such a strange term for her.

she's not a girl-- she's a woman. there's nothing particularly girly about her. sevika's much more comfortable being more masculine, and she loves being able to be a gentlewoman.

in more mundane ways-- holding the doors open for you, offering up her bus seat when a pregnant person or old man shuffles on, subtly flexing when you hold her arm on your walks home at night-- and in bigger ways too.

sevika's butch. she takes pride in that title. and if that means she needs to fight some assholes who don't know the meaning of the word 'no'-- so be it.

so, this is all to say, the first time you introduce sevika to your friends, she's just a little hesitant to have to hear herself described in such a strange way. she'd prefer 'wife', in all honesty, but she's trying to take things slow with you, and 'partner' sounds like you guys work together.

but then, you spot your friends at a table, smiling and tugging sevika to the back of the resturant with a hand on her bicep.

"hi!" you squeal, greeting your friends with hugs and kisses. sevika watches with a gentle smile as you all greet each other. "okay, everyone, this is my butch, sevika." you introduce her with a happy little gesture in her direction.

sevika freezes, processing your words, a smile slowly growing on her face. all your friends wave and welcome her happily to the table, but she only has eyes for you, her heartbeat thudding in her chest as she studies you.

you notice-- or you must just know her really well-- because it's how you introduce her from that moment on... up until she proposes for you.

then for a while then, she's introduced as your fiance which she loves-- but she misses being called your butch so much.

so the first time she hears you refer to her as your husbutch? she just about tackles you the ground as she tries to smother you in kisses.

you're on the phone with your friend or something, just catching up, and sevika's not even meant to overhear it or anything, she just happens to pass the kitchen as you say it. "...so then i'm gonna take my husbutch to the markets, see if i can convince her to haul home some-ah!" you squeal as you're tackled to the floor. "sevika!"

"i love you so fucking much. let's get married again. i don't care if it's tacky."

"i'm on the phone!" you giggle.

"shit, sorry." she scrambles to get the phone for you, pressing it into your hand gently. "i just love you." she kisses you one last time, her tongue just barely brushing your lips, making you just a little dizzy before she pulls away and winks at you.

it takes your friend three tries to get your attention again.

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[covenofagatha]

taking requests, angel? if so...

I saw some Kathryn gifs and an idea came to me: Agatha, after a long and exhausted working week, asks female reader to have a date, but the date is on their house because Agatha is too tired to go out. Reader is happy, tho, because her love language is quality time and physical contact. Something like a dinner, maybe, idk... so they end up having a very lovely time together, cuddling on the sofa until they fall asleep. Smut or not in the end, it's up to you... but I'd love to read something cute from you:( I don't know if that's okay...

if you're not taking requests, I totally understand that! I don't want to bother you.

- 🌙

Fun fact, this is my first time writing something that's not meant to build up to sexy times! Also the fluffiest thing I've ever written so hopefully it's good!

Home is where the heart is

A change of plans in your date night with Agatha leads to a confession.

Word count: 1200

Warnings: fluff, softness

Still on for dinner and a movie tonight? 

It’s the text you sent your girlfriend, Agatha, an hour ago and she still hasn’t responded. This usually isn’t like her, but you know how busy work can get. And you know how tough the last week had been on her, but you were really looking forward to spending this Friday night with her. 

The two of you had been dating for three months now and it always seemed like the older woman wanted to do something, whether it be going to a nice restaurant or mini-golfing or painting pottery. Like tonight, Agatha is supposed to take you to the newest spot in town that just opened up and then you were going to see Corpse Bride as it was playing again in theaters. 

You would never complain about any of this, but you’re a little worried that Agatha thinks that you need all of this to hang out with her. 

A text from Agatha buzzes finally. Doll, I’m so sorry. You frown and pick your phone up, afraid she’s going to cancel. I’m so exhausted from work, how would you feel just coming over tonight for something chill? I can order pizza. 

You breathe a sigh of relief and type back. I would love that! See you later. You almost finish the text with a ‘Love you’ but neither of you had said it yet and you were sure as hell not going to say it over the phone for the first time. 

You also weren’t sure how Agatha felt. She was older and you weren’t exactly sure what she saw in you. She was beautiful and confident and wealthy and could have anyone she wanted, and yet she chose you. 

A part of you deep down is perturbed that this is just a fling for her. It would crush you if that’s what it was. 

But you bury that insecurity somewhere dark inside you and you get ready for date night. 

Since you’re not doing anything special, you opt for a comfy purple sweater and black leggings. You do put on lacy underwear just in case Agatha’s in the mood, but you are totally content if not. 

You just want to spend time with your girlfriend. 

You get to her house right at six, which was when you were supposed to meet anyway, and you only have to wait a second after ringing the doorbell for Agatha to appear. 

“Hey, baby,” she says, stepping to the side so you can enter. She’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, hair loose, but she’s never looked more beautiful. You press a cheek to her kiss and she hums happily and follows you into the kitchen. “Sorry to cancel our plans at the last minute, I’m just so tired.” 

“No worries at all,” you reassure her, opening the pizza box that’s already on the counter. It’s your favorite kind and you put two pieces on a plate and grab a beer. She does the same and leads you over to the couch where you sit on opposite sides facing each other. “Everything okay?” You ask once you’re both settled. 

She sighs dramatically and her head flops back against the couch. You laugh and nudge her with your foot. 

Agatha looks back at you, mirth sparkling in her eyes. “It was just a rough week, hon. Lots of people bothering me, asking stupid questions they should know the answers to, following up on emails that they haven’t responded to. And I had to work late those couple nights.”

You frown. “I’m sorry. You work so hard and no one seems to give you the credit you deserve.” You take a bite of your pizza and chew it thoughtfully, wondering what else you can say. You know she’s been really busy and you’ve hardly seen her at all this week. 

But she leans forward and pats your thigh. “But this has certainly helped.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “The pizza and beer?” You ask innocently, fishing for more. She rolls her eyes fondly, knowing how much validation you like. 

“And the company, hon. You’re pretty great, you know?” 

You smile and squirm with contentment. “You are too, Aggie. I’m always happy to just sit on your couch and talk. I just want to spend time with you, no matter what we’re doing.” 

She smiles gratefully. “Me too, baby. Now, how has your week been?” You launch into an animated retelling of something that happened at work and she hangs onto every word. It takes you a bit longer to tell the story in-between bites of your pizza, but her attention never wavers. 

It makes you feel so warm inside how Agatha always pays attention to what you’re saying. She makes you feel so seen and you couldn’t be more lucky to have her. 

Once you’re done talking and with the pizza, she puts on an episode of Modern Family, your comfort show. You lay between her legs, your back to her front, while she gently strokes your hair. You trace lazy circles on her thighs through her sweatpants and it’s absolutely perfect. 

She tilts your head to the side and angles hers so she’s able to kiss you softly. It’s just a press of her lips against yours at first, but it slowly becomes more and your mouth parts for her tongue. 

It’s not a needy kiss though, not a kiss meant to lead to something more, it’s a kiss full of adoration and longing and intimacy. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” Agatha murmurs against your lips.

“Not as perfect as you,” you say back and you can feel her smile against your skin. 

She lets you go back to the show and wraps her arms around you. You can feel her deep breathing and you feel so safe and warm that you start to doze off. 

Right before sleep takes you though, you feel her nuzzle your temple and whisper into your ear: “I love you, baby.” 

Your heart leaps and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. You whirl around so fast that you almost fall off the couch. Agatha’s eyes are wide and you think you see fear in them. 

“Did you just–” You start. 

At the same time, Agatha says, “I’m so sorry–”

You both cut off at the same time. You smile wider than you ever have before and you move so you’re straddling her lap. You put your arms around her neck and rest your forehead against hers. 

“Agatha Harkness,” you say. Her eyebrows raise. “I love you, too.” 

She closes the distance between you and kisses you again, this time with more passion. You whine and try to pull her as close as you can, needing to feel her body against yours as much as you can. 

“Say it again,” she says and you smirk. 

“I-” You kiss her. “Love.” Another kiss. “You.” She grins and gives you a long kiss and it eventually sizzles out and the two of you are just holding each other, your chin on top of her shoulder. 

“I’m so glad I cancelled our other date,” Agatha muses and you chuckle, squeezing her tighter. “Stay here with me forever, love?” 

You promise that you will. 

And when you both wake up in the morning in that same position, she tells you that she loves you again.

You hope she never stops saying it, because you know that you never will.

[josephquinnswhore]

where you go, I go - stalker joel miller x female reader AU.

summary: joel hasn’t been the same since ex his wife abandoned him and his daughter, but he’s been watching you for months.. you’re the perfect replacement.

word count: 1.1k

content warning: extreme stalking, harassment, unhealthy infatuation, murder, brief mention of potential kidnapping, unhealthy idealism, manipulation, gaslighting.

Today was really not the day for this, your complete lack of intolerance to bullshit had reached its capacity.

But this had been happening every attempt for the past week, a relatively new and frankly.. abruptly confusing issue.

The button on your key fob for your car makes the indicators flash orange each attempt to pry the boot open. With a click or the button, it’s supposed to open the boot automatically.

But your car doesn’t do that, no. It insists on a one armed wrestling match while you have to click the button simultaneously.

Thanks to Joel, the man that has been absolutely infatuated with you for months, since you’d hired them for a minor job, just a custom order bookshelf. Not something the men would typically accept but Joel was absolutely infatuated with you.

Since then he hadn’t ever been far from where you were. Even if that meant showing up to your house at night and sabotaging apart of your car.

It’s hot out. These Texan summers were no joke and with no breeze, the beads of sweat meticulously lined upon your forehead, not one inch of it wasn’t covered in sweat.

“Come on!” With a grunt of frustration, you attempt to wrestle the boot open again, pushing it down to try and get the latch unstuck.

He watches on as you struggle with the boot of your car for the third time this week alone, how you managed to live your life without a man to take care of you was a real mystery to him.

As amusing as it is to watch you struggle, he figures he needs to approach before some other man offers a helping hand. The last thing Joel needs is to bury another goddamn prick on your behalf. You should be thanking Joel, really.

But he understands, you don’t know. You’re vulnerable, completely none the wiser to the fact that a man that mowed your lawn once a fortnight, had managed to peep through your bathroom window and caught a glance of your bare skin while you were showering.

Unaware that anyone was watching you groan again in frustration, about ready to pull your hair out. “Why the hell is this happening to me today?!”

“Excuse me, miss?” A well recognised Southern, Texan accent calls out to you with a hint of amusement and curiosity. Turning around, the man was closer than you’d expected.

“You need something?” Perhaps you were snappier than you should’ve been, and he raises a singular eyebrow at you.

“I’m sorry. I just.. need help with this. Pain in the ass. I have cold stuff and it’s hot as shit out here!” You ramble incessantly to the man who just tilts his head.

As he steps forward. “Mind if I give it a try?”

“Good luck to you—“ before you could even finish the scornful sentence the boot was open.

“How did you do that?” Disbelief wavering in your tone.

He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest, the shirt tightens and the muscles in his arms bulge. A fitting distraction to keep your eyes away from the fact that he had just sneakily attached a tracking tab onto your car. Underneath the number plate.

Now, he already knew your home address. But he had to make sure that you weren’t seeing anyone.

You were certain he had caught you staring. “These older models have a few minor issues, I learnt that working on my own truck, I suppose.”

Now that were true. But he wouldn’t really tell you the reason he knew how to fix this particular issue.

“What’s your name anyway?”

He starts packing your groceries into the now open boot, a few bags in each hand at a time.

The veins in his forearms protrude out of the skin.

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

Once he’s finished packing your groceries away, he closes the boot. “Shouldn’t have no more issues with it.”

You raise a brow. “You’re not gonna ask my name?”

He doesn’t want to, because he already knows it.

He almost laughs, almost. “What is your name, miss?”

When you reply with your name, he doesn’t at all seem phased, which was odd. “You kinda look familiar, actually.”

He keeps a calm expression, looking around the carpark as he gives a warm smile. “I live around here. Do contracting for a lot of houses around town.”

He could’ve felt his gut drop in that moment, maybe you’d figured him out. Perhaps you were about to call him out on what he’s been doing, sneaking around your goddamn house at night, sabotaging the boot so that it wouldn’t open properly.

Perhaps if that were the worst case scenario, he would just have to whack you on the head and shove you into the boot of your little car and drive you to his house. Chain you up and explain that he’s not a bad guy, he just cares for you. No one else cares for you like he does.

Thankfully, it doesn't come to that, because you’re clueless, really. It’s sad to see that you don’t protect yourself. If Joel could get away with all of this unseen. Imagine the real creeps that would take advantage of you.

Joel had been creating all of these minor issues for you, so that you would perhaps seek him out if he happened to.. by chance.. be nearby.

Come to think of it, there was a white pickup that had some sort of business name on the side of it. Been around your street a few times this week, actually. Perhaps he’s got work in the area?

Ain’t really your business to ask though.

“Yeah, I suppose. Thanks anyway, for this.. I should get home now. Don’t want all the dairy and meat to spoil.”

By now you really should be leaving.. but you feel compelled to give the helpful man your number.

“Maybe I can thank you properly one day for lending a hand.”

You quickly scribble it down on the back of your long docket and hand it to him.

“I’ll contact you,” albeit a simple response, he vows to you.

He takes the half crumpled paper with your number and nods with a warm smile, watching you as you get into your car and thank him again through the window before driving off.

A grim smile on his wicked lips as he watches the car leave the parking lot, knowing that even now, as you left, he would know where you were.

Because where you were, Joel was always following close behind. He did, after all.. think you were perfect. The missing piece of the puzzle to his family. The right woman to give his daughter a caring, loving mother. And you—would be his wife. Joel was taking all the steps necessary to ensure it.

He would have he perfect family. He would have you.

Finally, with the number in hand, he was one step closer.

[short-honey-badger]

Doll 2

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Summary: Shanks can't stop thinking about you and how you'll fit in with the crew

Warnings: late night thoughts and mentions of abuse

Doll Masterlist

Later that night, while Shanks lay in the room he'd rented, the redhead couldn't stop thinking about you. Even while pleasantly buzzed still from earlier, his mind was a whirlwind of thought, and as much as it disgusted him to consider, he did want to know what kind of slave you were. The Celestial Dragons were known to keep all kinds of races, from Fishman to Giants. Labor, entertainment, pleasure.

Shanks hoped that you hadn't been part of the latter. You didn't seem like it, didn't have the innate sultry look that Shanks had seen before, but that didn't mean you couldn't hide it from him. He could go ask you, demand you tell him since he was the one who decided to bring you on board, but the thought of doing that left an awful taste in his mouth. Shanks wanted you to trust him. He wanted to be your friend.

You hadn't told him much about your past, only the little bit that you’d been willing to share with him so far, but Shanks wanted you to feel safe enough that you would want to share everything with him eventually. He wanted to see you smile more, wanted to see you relax and feel at home with him and the rest of his crew. You wanted to know everything, so Shanks would make sure you got what you wanted.

A knock on his door tore the captain from his thoughts, and he jumped from the bed to open the door. You stood on the other side, a contrite expression on your face. His own schools into one of concern and lean against the doorway.

“Everything okay, Doll?” He asks quietly and has a hard time not reaching out to cup her face when you bite your lip and avoid his eyes. He waits patiently for you, not willing to rush you into anything that you might not be read for.

“I just wanted to say thank you. I didn’t earlier, and it’s been bothering me,” you ramble and then fall silent. You don’t want your new captain to rescind his offer to join him, but you’ve been instructed to say please and thank you since you could remember, even if whatever you’d been sent to do ended in punishment.

Shanks softens even more at your admission. He can see the old fear lingering in your eyes, and it makes rage boil in his chest that you’ve been subject to such treatment that a simple thank you made you so nervous. He doesn’t fight the urge this time to reach out to cup your face in his hand, his lips turning up in a sad smile.

“Sweetheart. You don’t have to thank me for something like this. Don’t think you have to treat me and mine like you had to treat those bastards. I don’t own you, Doll. You own yourself.”

He watches in mild panic as tears form in your eyes, and then he has a chest full of sobbing woman. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to try and provide some form of comfort. Shanks isn’t the best at this, but for you? He’d try his damndest. He dips his head and presses a kiss to the top of your head and listens as your sobs begin to slow down into quiet sniffles.

You grimace as you pull away and look at his shirt from where your face had been pressed, “I’m sorry, I got you all nasty.”

Shanks laughs and shakes his head. You were adorable like this, and he couldn’t get enough of it, “Darling. I promise you that this shirt has had worse than some snot and tears on it.”

The look of disgust that paints your face is all worth the confession, and Shanks only laughs harder when you pull away and wipe your face. You crinkle your nose and eye him with a now skeptical look, “When was the last time you washed that shirt?”

Shanks aims an innocent look, lips pursed as he shrugs a shoulder. You scoff and cross your arms, but your fear from earlier seems to be gone, so the redhead is happy.

“Maybe it is a good thing I’m coming along. A crew full of men probably needs a woman’s touch,” You quip, and Shanks can’t help but silently agree. He won’t lie and say that the laundry doesn’t get piled up on occasion. Or the dishes despite Lucky Roux keeping the kitchen orderly. He’s guilty himself for letting his quarters get a little too messy. But he didn’t bring you along so that you could be their maid.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, _,” Shanks murmurs, tone dropping the playful tilt as he catches her chin in his hand, “I’m not bringing you with us for that.”

His heart thuds in his chest at the smile that you send him. You slowly reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist, squeezing softly before letting your hand fall back to your side. It makes you feel good that Shanks is taking your comfort in mind, but you wouldn’t be a burden on his ship.

“I know that, but I don’t think I could physically just sit around and do nothing. I’ve worked… my whole life, Shanks, and I don’t want to be just another mouth to feed. I want to be helpful,” you say and shrug a little helplessly. The only break you’ve ever had was in the last month of your escape, but even then, you were constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering if this would be the day that someone recognized you and dragged you back to Marie Geois. The guilt of leaving the other slaves behind still ate at you, and you wished that you could have been able to take them with you.

“Then we’ll figure it out as we go, Doll,” Shanks promises and strokes his thumb along your jaw like he had earlier before he drops his hand. He doesn’t want you to think that he wants you for anything other than your company. Not that you’re not beautiful, but Shanks doesn’t want you to think he expected something like that from you. Not unless you wanted it.

You blush at th efeeling of the rough pad of his finger against your skin. You didn’t like it when people touched you, but you found that dislike absent when Shanks did it. It felt natural and kept you grounded in a way you didn’t expect. You flick your eyes up, catching his own and send him a small smile, “Thank you again, Shanks.”

The redhead meets it with a grin of his own. A yawn suddenly catches you off guard, and you cover your mouth with a hand, eyes squinting as you look away from him. Shanks snickers at the way your nose scrunches up and steps back into his room.

“Go catch some sleep, Doll. We’ll stay here a couple more days to resupply, and then we’ll be on our way,” Shanks yawns himself halfway through, his words coming out slow and choppy before they even out. He smirks when his antics make you laugh, and then he is watching you turn on your heel and lope down the hall, “Night, Doll.”

“Night, Shanks,” you call softly back, and then you disappear around the corner. Shanks sighs once you are gone. Mind stuffed even more with thoughts about you as he shuts the door and lays back down. He rubs a hand down his face and rolls to his side, vowing to figure out the details in the morning.

[solsticescribe]

Simon Riley x reader one-shot

Simon came home from a long deployment last night. You had no idea where he was during that time or what happened, you knew you were not supposed to know anything. You were just glad that he was back and safe.

After a great struggle of getting out of his hold this morning, you started unpacking his bag that he left on the floor right in the middle of the hallway (he was too busy thinking about getting into bed with you to care about where he left his stuff).

As you took out his dirty clothes, you noticed what looked like a plastic bag on the bottom. After starting the washing machine and getting the rest of his stuff out, you took the beige package into your hands to examine it.

What you were currently holding in your hand was an MRE. You’ve seen people all over Tiktok reviewing these meals and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about what they were like. Looks like this could be your chance to find out.

As you were examining the packet, you felt two bulky arms wrap around you and a face nuzzling your neck. “Mhh morning love” You heard Simon’s voice grumbling, still heavy with sleep. “Morning. Isn’t a bit too early for you to be up? You should sleep some more” You kissed all over his face and neck where you could reach. Simon shook his head. “ ‘s not as good without you in bed” “Are you hungry by any chance? I have some breakfast ready” You pointed to the pan sitting on the stove, his favorite breakfast, that you made earlier, just waiting to be heated up.

“Maybe later” He cupped your cheeks and pressed multiple little kisses to your lips. He had his eyes closed, fully emerged in the feeling of having you close to him and finally being able to love on you properly.

“What do you want to do with that?” He asked in between kisses, referring to the bag in your hands. He still had his eyes still closed and not showing any sign that he wishes to stop with the kisses.

“Well, can I try it? If you don’t need it” You held his face in your hands, stopping him so that you would have enough time to speak. “Whatever you want sweetheart. I was planning on throwing it out. Don’t expect anything gourmet though”

He left you at the counter to unbox everything from the MRE packet while he turned on the stove to heat up his breakfast.

Simon fixed himself a plate and sat next to you, watching your expression as you tried the different snacks and meal included in the bag. He smiled to himself, thinking about just how adorable you looked, eyes lighting up when trying things you liked and furrowing when you didn’t like something.

His own meal was soon forgotten, leaning on the countertop, he watched you fumble around with the small packets with a barely noticeable smile on his face. He found this quite amusing.

Trying the last thing included, you were disappointed by the blandness of it. You put everything in the bin and sat on Simon’s lap. “I’m sorry you have to eat that so often” You said while wrapping your arms around his neck. He just hummed, one arm around your waist to hold you closer, with the other, he held up a bite from his left-over breakfast to help wash away the taste in your mouth. You eagerly took the fork in your mouth. “Wanna know why isn’t it so bad?” He asked while preparing another bite for you “I know that I get to come home to you and your cooking. Makes it all worth it to keep you safe”

[witchyvibes91]

Behind the Mask | Tom Riddle

Summary: Tom hates you. Well, he hates how attracted he is to you. And that attraction is deeply explored at a masquerade ball one lust-filled night.

TW: 18+, mdni, chars 18+, smut, rough sex, blindfolding, dom and sub, biting, PIV, f!masterbation, choking

Word count: 4.1k

Animosity.

Perhaps that was the only word to describe the relationship between you and Tom Riddle. The two of you had hated one another for as long as you could remember. He was too charming, too manipulative. And you? You were just another mudblood, or so he called you. 

The best thing that happened to you was graduating from Hogwarts. You no longer had to see Tom–or so you thought. It was exactly three years later when you wandered into Borgin and Burkes. 

Borgin and Burkes was not exactly your normal place to shop but this afternoon you were required to go for your boss. He had encountered a dark magic object, a book he didn’t want in his bookshop. You, desperately needing work, were not exactly in a position to say no.

You walked into the store expecting to get rid of the book quickly and leave but there he was. Tom Riddle. He was still handsome as ever but God, the hatred. It was strong. You thought, perhaps, you were over it but just the sight of him brought it all back. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t serve mudbloods here,” Tom said immediately at the sight of you. The hatred was still there for him as well. You slammed the book on the table and turned to walk out without a single word.

You’d take whatever money you had saved up and give it to your boss yourself. You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as Tom for more than a minute. 

Two weeks later, you were getting ready for a masquerade ball of a close friend of yours. You needed this. Desperately. Time away, drinks with friends. It was supposed to be fun. And it would be. Oh, it would be so incredibly fun. 

“Can you just drop it already?” Your friend asked as the two of you finished up your make-up. You had been going on about the meeting with Tom yet again. It was still bothering you. There was just something about seeing him again that brought up a stir of feelings inside of you.

“He called me a mudblood!” You shouted back as your hands messed with your hair. Your friend had enough. She stood up, smoothing down her dress before shrugging her shoulders.

“Like he hasn’t before? Come on. Let’s just forget about Tom and go have fun.” She held her hand out, waiting for you to take it. 

You thought about not going. You thought about giving up on it all and just heading home. But it was a masquerade ball celebrating the turn of the season. And you were never one to turn down fun. You took her hand and walked down to the party, letting go for a moment so you could tie on your mask.

There were plenty of people at this party, more than there should have been. Word got out and everyone started inviting this friend and that one. Strangers brushed past you dressed in various forms of masks. Some were more covered than others. Some were completely unrecognizable. Anyone could be here. And anyone was here.

Tom Riddle had spent the last two weeks thinking of you. The sight of you walking into that shop was one he never imagined he’d see but fuck, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Tom had always hated you, of course, but it wasn’t a deep-seated hatred. It was a hatred that stemmed from his unusual desires for you. He hated how much he wanted you. He hated how fucking attractive you were. 

There were rumors of a party, a big one. Tom had heard of a few professors that would be there from Hogwarts. He was desperately trying to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position and saw this as an opportunity to try and weasel some schmooze in. Maybe a few would put a good word in for him but he had to go about it carefully–as he did with everything in his life.

Tom was a meticulous person. Nothing he did was spontaneous. Everything was carefully, planned out. There were intentions behind every action, ill-willed or not. Spontaneity was not his specialty. 

He walked into the party wearing a mask. Nothing special for the occasion but, years from now, that mask would be so well known to the community. It would be a mask that sparked fear and traitours behaviors; however, tonight it was just a mask for Tom to hide behind while he stalked out his prey. 

You were a few drinks in by the time Tom arrived. You weren’t completely drunk but inhibitions were lowered. You were laughing with your friends when one of them pointed out a masked man standing in the corner. The mask seemed to be staring right at you. 

You brushed it off–surely he wasn’t staring at you. There were hundreds of people at this party. He could be staring at anyone. As the night went on, however, you noticed how the masked man kept popping up here and there. Across the dance floor as you danced. On the opposite side of the bar when you got drinks. He seemed to be everywhere.

Tom was searching for professors, looking for people he could convince to get him the job he desired when he suddenly saw you. Your hair, your tight little dress. It was driving Tom mad. All that talk of him being meticulous and planned out, all of it went out the window the second he saw you. 

He could do nothing but watch you. Were you here with someone? A man? If so, who? Who could fuck you better than Tom Riddle could? 

Fuck.

Tom hated himself for thinking that but he hated that he wanted to prove that thought to you even more. He stalked you most of the night before finally noticing you moving up some stairs. Again, Tom was never a spontaneous person. Everything he did was thought out. Everything. 

Tonight, though. Tonight was an exception. You were an exception. 

Tom followed up the stairs, half-expecting to lose you, when he finally saw you standing at the entrance of what looked to be a bedroom. While Tom was being spontaneous, you had planned this out. If this masked man was truly following you, you wanted to see the lengths he would go.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You asked teasingly as you stood in the doorway. Your voice had a slight drunken giggle to it. Tom was annoyed by your cockiness, your forwardness. He simply nodded his head in the mask as he walked forward a bit.

“Cat got your tongue?” You asked again, realizing how silly you sounded. You wanted to curse yourself under your breath but the masked man's hands were suddenly on your waist, pushing you into the room.

There was hardly time to talk, to think. The door shut behind the two of you and you heard the lock clicking without hands being used. Whoever this man was, he was a skilled wizard, and for some reason, that turned you on even more.

“What are you going to do to me?” You squeaked out meekly. Tom said nothing as he continued walking forward until you were pressed up against the edge of the bed. Your knees were forced to bend at the bedframe and your bottom fell onto the mattress.

Tom stared down at you, tilting his head slightly as his piercing dark eyes peered at you from behind the mask. The eyes almost looked familiar to you, but you couldn’t place it. Your hands rested on the edge of the bed as you looked up at the mystery man.

“Nothing.” Tom finally spoke, changing his voice to a lower tone. He hoped the familiarity of it would slip your mind and it did. You had no idea who this man was but he was exciting you.

Tom leaned down just a touch as he grabbed your wrist. He moved your hand between your legs and forced them open. He pushed your hand until it was up against your warm and wet core.

“You’re going to do it to yourself.” He demanded as he took a few steps back. You kept your hand on the spot where he left it, frozen from the demand. Tom crossed his arms over his chest, still staring at you through that damned mask. 

“Open.” He spoke coldly, your legs immediately spreading open. You weren’t sure if it was your decision or his magic but either way, you opened. You leaned back just a touch, pulling up the skirt of your dress so he could get the full show. Your hand started to do circles over the material of your soaked panties.

Little moans escaped your lips before you pulled your panties to the side, pressing your fingers between your wet slit. You were soaked, feeling nothing but pleasure from the intensity of the situation. 

Tom watched as you locked eyes with him from across the room. He could see the pleasure growing on your face, your fingers moving faster. It felt good. Too fucking good.

You didn't know it but you were currently touching yourself to the man you hated most in this world. A type of degradation without words–the mystery of it driving Tom more insane than the act itself.

“Faster,” Tom demanded and you did exactly as he said. Your fingers circled faster, little circles enlarging that already swollen clit of yours. Tom’s cock was hard, pressing against his pants. Nothing ever turned him on but you? Fuck. You did insane things to him and his length. 

It was taking everything in him to not touch himself as well. Your fingers started to move faster as you fell back a bit on one elbow. Your moans were growing, your legs shaking. Tom could tell you were getting closer to that perfect release.

But you wouldn’t finish. No. He wasn’t about to let you feel that pleasure so soon. He looked at your hand and, without using his voice, the word stop echoed through your mind. Your hand immediately stopped and your eyes widened. What the fuck was that?

He took a few steps closer and your heart was beating hard against your chest. What was he going to do? The unknown of this entire situation only makes this moment hotter. You peered at him through your dainty little mask before he stood right between your legs.

His hand reached up and untied your mask and revealed your face. There it was. The face he hated to desire. The face he hated to think about. The face he hated to dream of. It was his most hated face and yet the one he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind. Tom absolutely loathed how much he thought of your face. Your lips. Your throat. 

No words were said. You were frozen, unable to speak. Tom was just trying to make sure you didn’t know who he was. He reached his hand up, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip as he watched your chest rise and fall from the heavy breathing.

“Perfect.” He whispered, not even meaning to. He meant to keep that thought in his mind but it slipped out in spoken word. And now you knew how he really felt. This complete stranger found you to be perfect. Maybe it was all the drinks you had but this felt exhilarating, intoxicating. 

As Tom’s thumb slid off of your lip, he moved to his pointer finger. It traced your jawline before moving down the side of your neck. He didn’t stop. He traced every inch of you as if he were making a map of your body and all the places he was going to devour. 

“Wh-what do you want?” You finally managed to ask, wondering why he stopped you from finishing. Was he going to fuck you? You wanted him to. This absolute stranger. You reached up for his mask and he quickly grabbed your wrist with a force that frightened you. 

“Don’t,” Tom demanded in that same low tone he had been using. His grip seemed to tighten around your wrist and your desires started to turn to fear for a second. What the fuck were you doing? This was someone unknown to you, or so you thought. He could do anything to you. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stumbled on your words and Tom was enjoying seeing you so scared, so timid. A smirk was growing under his mask as your eyes stared up at him with fear. There was something so insatiable about this, having total control over you and your body. 

“Do you want this?” Tom asked through a low tone, his muffled voice barely escaping his mask. Your mind was racing with thoughts. Did you want this? You nodded your head without truly thinking about what he was asking.

“Are you sure?” Tom asked once more as he started to lay you back on the bed. He grabbed your other hand, pinning it above your head, and hovered over you. “Because once I start, I’m not going to stop.” 

The words sent a shiver down your spine. This was your chance. If you didn’t want this, truly didn’t want it, you just had to say the word and he would let you go. 

“I want this.” 

Fuck. 

That was it. You were in for it. There was no turning back now. You were about to be destroyed in this random bed by this random person and, honestly? You were excited for it. 

Tom didn’t need to hear anymore. He flicked his finger at your dress and it instantly unbuttoned. How the hell was he so good at this? The more of your body that was exposed, the stronger the fire grew inside of him. 

You were quickly becoming the oxygen he needed to breathe. As much as he hated you, he really fucking needed you. He ripped off his shirt and that’s when you saw just how toned his body was. You reached up and traced his abs for a moment as you noticed how heavily he was breathing. 

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours but he wouldn’t take off that damned mask. He let your hands travel to his belt and you slowly started to undo it. Every movement felt like a pause in time. It was as if time ceased to exist in this other world you were living in. 

His pants slid down and his length bulged out of his underwear. Your eyes widened at the sight of it. He was big. No. Not big. Enormous. No wonder he could be so demanding. 

Tom kept his mask in place while his hands ran through your hair. It wasn’t in a loving sense, or even a longing sense. It seemed to be in a sense that said ‘I can’t believe I’m about to fucking destroy you’ and that, more than anything, turned you on.

“What are you going to do to me?” You managed to ask, in a timid and shaking voice. That confidence you had? Gone. You wanted this–gods you wanted this–but you felt so incredibly submissive to this undisclosed man. There was no challenging him and you both knew that.

“The question should be…” Tom started to say in that deep and low tone as he reached for his tie that was lying with his shirt. He pulled it up over your eyes, tying it around you so that you could see nothing before dropping his lips to your ear and whispering, “...what am I not going to do to you, darling?” 

This. Fucking. Man.

Now with your eyes covered, he could finally remove his mask. And he did. His eyes took in all of you, your naked body lying on the bed. The blindfold over your face. The position of you, so submissive and wanting. He hated it. No, he hated how much it turned him on.

He moved his lips to yours and hovered just for a moment before pressing them together. You tasted fucking heavenly, something that only pissed him off more. Why did you have to be so damn perfect? His tongue swirled with yours and you let out soft little moans which only caused his cock to twitch. 

Tom moved his lips to your neck, biting as he did. There would be marks but that was Tom’s plan. He wanted you to see them. He wanted you to wonder who was putting their teeth into your skin. He wanted you to inadvertently think of him every time you saw those little marks. And he was going to put them over your entire body.

His teeth traveled down to your hardened nipples, biting them with a roughness that made you gasp. You weren’t expecting such a thrilling sensation, pain, and pleasure to mix so well together. 

“W-wait!” You started to say as he bit your other nipple, surely leaving marks everywhere. Your hands went for your blindfold and Tom quickly grabbed your hands. He pinned them together, quickly whispering a spell to tie them with rope. Your heart was racing, your mind rushing with thoughts.

“You agreed to this and I told you, once I start I’m not stopping,” Tom growled in that low tone that was starting to sound a little more familiar. You still had no idea who this was but it had to be someone you knew. The way they were treating you? It was someone you knew.

With your hands now tied, you had no control. This man, this mysterious figure, he had complete and total power over your body. And you loved it. You absolutely fucking loved it.

Tom moved further down your body, licking here and biting there. He made it to your thighs and pushed them apart. His teeth dug into your skin, leaving more marks on your inner thigh. Would you touch yourself the next time you saw these marks? Fuck. Tom hoped you would. He really fucking did. 

“P-please…” You begged, whimpered. A smirk grew on Tom’s face as he heard your little voice. The fact he had your body squirming under his touch only made his cock ache more for you. 

“Please, what? Use your fucking words.” He demanded and god, that voice. It was so familiar. It sent a pit into your stomach, your heart beating against your chest with an aching feeling. There was something so known about it and yet you had no idea who this was. 

“Please...the biting…” Your voice escaped your lips with the softest sound. Tom was getting annoyed. Annoyed that this turned him on, annoyed that you weren’t being more clear. 

He bit down onto your thigh a bit rougher this time, his darkened eyes glaring into your face as he did. He saw the shocked look, the mix of pleasure and pain, the way your body squirmed and writhed with pleasure. You liked this. No, you fucking loved this. 

“Stop!” You finally shouted, loud and echoing off the walls. Tom sat up and was impressed by your sudden demanding tone. He looked down at your slit and slowly ran a finger through it. You were soaked. 

“You’re saying stop and yet…” he moved his fingers up to your lips, tracing them over your mouth until you opened up, “...you seem to enjoy it.” 

His fingers slipped into your mouth until you tasted the cold metal of a ring. It was large. There was some sort of emblem on it but his finger was out of your throat faster than you could make out what it was. 

“Tell me you enjoy this,” Tom whispered as he watched his finger drag out of your mouth. Your body was shivering underneath him. So exposed. So open, vulnerable. 

“I like it. Love it. I-I want more.” You spoke with a shuddered breath. Tom sat you up and slipped behind you. He opened his knees while holding you in front of him so that you both faced the same direction. Your legs slipped between his and it wasn’t long before you felt his length teasing your entrance.

His pre-cum soaked tip was aching for you, craving you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, holding your body tightly against his before slamming his cock deep into you. The second he did, his eyes rolled back into his head.

That had never happened before.

He started to thrust, opening his eyes only to see the two of you in the mirror across the wall. He watched as your face gave away the amount of pleasure you were in. The blindfold was tight across your eyes but–fuck–the sensations you were feeling were otherworldly.

“F-fuck! You–fuck–you feel amazing!” You moaned as Tom’s cock pressed deeper and deeper into you. He started thrusting harder, his teeth sinking into your shoulder for a moment. Another mark. Another giveaway that he had destroyed your perfect body. 

“Praise me.” He groaned into your ear as he continued thrusting. He reached his free hand up, wrapping it around your throat as he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust in the mirror. You were a mess. And Tom fucking loved it. He loved how much he had ruined you at that moment. And he was only just starting.

“You're so big! S-so good! I–fuck–I c-can barely take it!” You praised as you were told. Your hands were still tied together, sitting in front of you as Tom watched the way your body moved with ecstasy in the mirror. 

He could feel his orgasm getting closer. Tom had fucked before, of course he did. But this? This was so different. It was like a whole new experience all together. He had never felt himself wanting to finish so quickly. It drove him insane.

His hand wrapped tighter around your throat, squeezing it until you could hardly breathe. He thrust a few more times before pulling out and pushing you down onto the bed so that you were on all fours.

Tom slapped both hands onto your ass, more marks. More territory was claimed. You held your hands out in front of you as your face pushed into the bed. Tom raised your hips before sliding back into you. 

“I’m going to count to three and you’re going to finish,” Tom demanded after thrusting a few times. Could you even do that? Cum on demand? You were about to find out. 

“One..” 

He pushed deeper into you, pulling your hips higher so that he was hitting every perfect little spot in your body.

“Two…” 

That voice. That fucking voice. God, you knew it. You knew you knew it. And for a second, a split second, you thought of him. Tom. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? 

“Three…” 

The second you thought of Tom, the second his face flashed across your mind, you finished with the heaviest orgasm you had ever experienced. You squirted, something you had never done before, letting juices coat his length and stroll down your legs. 

The sight of it, the sight of how fucking messy you were, it was enough to make Tom finish as well. He slipped out of you and stroked his length until he spread his seed all down your back and your ass. 

As you collapsed onto the bed, you went to pull off the makeshift blindfold but your hands wouldn’t move. Why weren’t they moving? 

“Can you take these off of me?” You asked but no response. You heard a door shut and suddenly, you could move. You ripped the blindfold off along with the ropes and looked around the room. You were alone. Was this some insane fever dream? 

You quickly looked down at your body, seeing how naked you were. You glanced up into the mirror and that’s when you saw them, the bites. They covered your body. The marks were everywhere. The softest little smile grew on your face as you watched yourself.

Tom, meanwhile, was already slipping out of the party. He hadn’t accomplished what he wanted while there but what he got was so much better. He got you. He destroyed you. He marked you. And fuck. That was all he needed.

You went home that night and fell into the bed, slowly pulling the tie out of your pocket that the man had left behind. You couldn’t get the thought of everything out of your mind. Who was he? And why was that the best sex you had ever had? Your mind went back to Tom but surely it wasn’t him. Was it? 

Your fingers were tracing over the tie, your mind racing with thoughts. And that’s when you saw it–the initials that made your stomach drop. TMR.

[nahoney22]

Hello there!

Congratulations on 4,500 followers!

May I request a NSFW prompt 30: come closer and keep me warm or something like with F! Reader x Mayday, please?

He needs more love!

Warmth in the Night*** 🌊

🫧 pairings: Commander Mayday X Female!Reader

word count: 1.9k

prompts:

• “Come here and keep me warm.”

plot: Trapped with nothing but a lousy flickering fusion lantern to keep you both warm, yourself and Mayday decide to take advantage of this time alone.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Established relationship, cuddling (amongst other things) for warmth, kissing, consensual sex, p in v sex, cock warming, dirty talk, explicit sexual content language, praising, fingering, trapped in a snow storm.

authors note: im so sorry for the wait @ladypunz and I apologise it’s short! But you’re right, he does deserve some love!

“Do you think it’ll hold?” you ask, your voice trembling as much from the cold as the worry gnawing at you. Together, yourself and Mayday had managed to barricade the rickety door of the abandoned shack you’d stumbled upon, but the raging blizzard outside wasn’t letting up.

Mayday steps back, eyeing the door with his hands on his hips. “Should do,” he says, his tone calm but a little cautious. “And if not… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

You try to laugh, but the bitter cold seeps into every part of you, stealing the sound before it can form. Stars, the bitter breeze stabs at your skin like little needles.

Pushing aside your discomfort, you move to help him gather whatever scraps of blankets and fabric you can find and then drape them around a fusion lantern. It was the only thing providing little warm but its light flickers weakly, threatening to go out at any moment. The thought of it completely shutting down makes you nervous which doesn’t go unnoticed by Mayday.

Setting his helmet on a cracked, uneven table, he steps closer, his gloved hand brushing against your frosty cheek. His touch was warm despite the frigid air.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll get through this. We’ll rest tonight, and by morning, the storm will have passed. Then we’ll make our way to the rendezvous point.”

You lean into his touch, seeking out the comfort it offers, and before you know it, your arms are around his waist, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you knitted to warmth and safety. “At least I’m with you,” you say softly.

His lips curve into a fond smile as he wraps his arms around you, his hands rubbing gently up and down your back in an effort to warm you. “Likewise.”

You were both meant to be delivering supplies to an outpost but were caught off guard by the sudden storm and luckily, you and Mayday had been together for a while now. He liked to tease that you fell for him first, and while that wasn’t entirely untrue, it didn’t mean he didn’t fall harder. He was everything you wanted in a relationship and you were glad he was so calm in a rather precarious situation.

“How are we on rations?” you ask after a moment, sitting down on the pile of tattered blankets whilst he pushes a broken table against the door just for a little extra reinforcement.

He grabs his pack, rummages around, and pulls out two ration bars, offering a wry smile as he hands you one. “At least it’s the flavor you like.”

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a half-smile, taking the bar and nibbling on it. If you were going to be stuck here, you wanted it to last.

Once the makeshift barricades are as secure as they’ll get, Mayday settles in beside you, the two of you huddling under the pile of blankets. The only light comes from the pathetic sputtering lantern, and the majority of warmth from each other. Despite your best efforts, your teeth chatter relentlessly.

Mayday drapes an arm over you, pulling you closer until your back is tucked against his chest. “Come here,” he says, his voice low and soft. “Keep me warm.”

You don’t hesitate, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His warmth envelops you, a small reprieve from the biting cold.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head.

“A little bit,” you admit, your breath shaky, though you can’t deny how much this was helping.

Night falls swiftly, the wind still screaming against your shelter. “I hope this storm ends soon,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the howl of the wind.

“Me too,” Mayday replies, his arms tightening around you. “But at least the company’s good, right?”

You smile despite everything, catching the teasing lilt in his voice. “It’s perfect,”

“You know,” Mayday murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his fingers trace gentle patterns across your stomach, “it’s been a while since we’ve had some time alone.”

Your eyes, which had been closed in contentment, flutter open. A playful smirk spreads across your lips as you tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” you say softly, your voice holding a hint of mischief. “It has been a while.”

Mayday’s answering smirk is wicked, a flicker of heat sparking in his inviting eyes. He leans down, capturing your lips with his, the kiss starting soft but quickly deepening into something more needy.

A gasp escapes you as his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You turn fully to face him, your fingers threading through the textured strands of his long hair, tugging gently. The sensation draws a low groan from his throat, his lips parting against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth.

The kiss turns hungrier, more demanding, as his hands begin to wander. One gloved hand peels away, and when his now-bare palm glides over your skin, the chill of his touch makes you gasp again.

His lips curve into a smirk against yours, and his free hand slips lower, exploring with deliberate slowness until it finds the waistband of your pants. He pauses for just a moment, enough to let anticipation coil tightly in your chest, before sliding his hand inside.

You tremble under his touch, his fingers brushing against your folds. The coldness of his skin sends shivers across your body, but it only heightens the heat rapidly building between you.

“Already wet for me?” he murmurs darkly, his lips brushing against yours. His thumb circles your clit with an intense and measured pace, and he bites down lightly on your lower lip. “You needy girl.”

A whimper escapes you, your body arching into his hand as waves of pleasure roll through you. “C-can’t help it,” you stammer, your voice breathless. “You’ve been neglecting me.”

A low groan rumbles deep in his chest, his mouth moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath is warm against you, a stark contrast to the icy air around you.

“Let me fix that.”

His fingers move with purpose now, sliding against you with expert precision. Every flick of his thumb, every stroke of his hand, draws soft gasps and moans from your lips. The storm outside is forgotten, the cold replaced by the searing heat of his touch.

“Mayday, shit… don’t stop,” you plead, your voice trembling as you clutch his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his under-armor.

He grins, a low, knowing chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tugs your pants down just enough to give his hand the space it needs. His fingers slide against you, then press inside, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The sound makes his grin widen. “You feel so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice rough and reverent. “So perfect.”

Your hips buck instinctively against his hand, desperate for more. A string of curses falls from your lips as he adds another finger, spreading you open with a skilled, deliberate rhythm. His lips find your neck again, trailing hot, searing kisses along your skin that make you shudder beneath him.

“Stars, I’m g-gonna—” you stammer, the words caught in your throat as the pressure inside you builds to a dizzying peak after a measly few minutes.

“Yes, you are,” he growls, his voice laced with hungry satisfaction. His lips leave your neck, his gaze locking onto yours as he watches you unravel. Your eyes roll back, your body arching as pleasure crashes over you in an uncontrollable wave.

You come undone, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. “Yes, you fucking are,” he says, his voice thick with pride, his fingers slowing but never stopping, coaxing every last ounce of bliss from you.

Stars blurred your vision, your body trembling as waves of you come down from your high. You felt drunk on his touch, the aftershocks of your climax leaving you breathless and spent. Sweat glistened on your brow, your legs shaking as you tried to steady yourself.

“That’s it,” Mayday murmured in your ear, his voice low and soothing. He withdrew his fingers carefully, his touch lingering for just a moment before he lifted his hand into the faint glow of the lantern. Slick with your arousal, his fingers shimmered in the dim light.

You closed your eyes briefly, letting the moment sink in, before looking up at him with a lazy, somewhat goofy smile. “I think it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

His lips form into a smirk, and without hesitation, he leaned down to kiss you, his mouth claiming yours with renewed desperation. As his tongue brushed against yours, your hands found their way to the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the latch. Mayday chuckled against your lips, helping you shove them down before kicking them off entirely.

Your breath hitched as his cock sprang free, thick and swollen with need. He gripped it lightly, stroking himself with deliberate slowness.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight, and an idea formed in your mind. You slipped your pants completely off and shifted closer, your hand wrapping around his length. He gasped at the initial contact, your touch cold against his heated skin, but the sound quickly melted into a groan as you aligned him with your entrance.

With a gentle roll of your hips, you guided him inside, both of you sighing as he stretched you open and settled deep within. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and he let out a sinful groan, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his face in your chest.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he rasped needily, “You feel amazing.”

You bit your lip, your walls fluttering around him, clinging to every inch of him as he throbbed inside you. A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered, “You like this, Commander? You like being in my pussy?”

“I love it,” he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin and knowing full well that you calling him Commander gets him all hot and bothered. One of your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you shifted your hips experimentally.

But before you could start moving in earnest, his grip on you tightened. “Stop. Stop,” he panted, his tone commanding yet soft.

You froze, concern flickering in your eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice ragged. Pulling back slightly, he cupped your face with both hands, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re keeping my cock so nice and warm.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but then a playful smile tugged at your lips. “Using me as a cockwarmer, are you?”

“Yes, baby,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’re so damn warm, and it feels so good. Just… let me stay like this for a while.”

Your smile softened, and you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his once more. “Anything you want.”

Settling against his chest, you let your body relax, your arms wrapping around him as his cock remained snugly sheathed inside you. He pulled the covers over the two of you, cocooning you both in warmth.

The storm outside howled, but for the first time in hours, you felt nothing but comfort. You didn’t know how long this moment would last, but for now, you hoped the storm wouldn’t let up anytime soon…

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[littlxpxtal]

Puppy Grin

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

I'm alone, to beginning

Just sat right here with my puppy grin

For you and your sneaking on holidays, holidays

What fun to be had

When you've got me here to hit right back

Just some Polly parroting on and on and like you want

What's up with you?

It's never been like you to be back and begging

I've been no good at acting as I should

New Years Eve

My boots clacked against the pavement as I walked to Sabrina’s house, book bag filled to the brim with everything I needed to get ready for tonight. I knock on the large front door and am greeted by Sabrina, wrapped in a robe with her makeup half done and her hair up in a towel.

We greet each other and she leads me upstairs to her room, clothes sprawled out everywhere. I trip over a pair of heels and she profusely apologizes, throwing them across the room, landing on top of a pile of purses.

“Sorry I can’t fucking figure out what I wanna wear, which is preventing me from starting my eye makeup. Can you help?” I nod my head and start picking up dresses from her bed, inspecting each one.

“Ooo what about this one?” I ask, reaching back behind her bed. It was a black sparkly mini dress that she bought online a few months ago but never wore. I remember watching her buy it off her laptop in second period.

“Oh my GOD yes!” she screams, giving me a hug. I help her shove all of her clothes into her closet and start setting up my own little station by her mirror, applying my makeup.

“So who do you think you’re gonna kiss tonight?” I finally ask as I wrap a piece of hair around the hot wand. Sabrina peaks out from the bathroom and smirks.

“Haven’t decided.” she says before spraying hairspray on her head. “I’ve been hooking up with DJ Gabe for only like a week but there’s no strings attached.”

“What about Topper?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was the host of tonights New Years Eve outing.

“What about him?” she responds sweetly, admiring herself in the mirror.

“What do you mean what about him” I say with a laugh, finishing up with the last strand of hair that needed to be curled. I spritz some hair spray on it then run a comb through the curls to loosen them up.

“No idea what you’re talking about” she says with a grin on her face. She walks out of the room and I roll my eyes, grabbing my dress and begin to slip it on.

The description on the website I found it from was “Femme Clubwear Gold Sequin Sleeveless Halter Backless Mini Dress” I hadn’t tried it on since purchasing so I was praying it would fit fine. If it didn’t at least I knew Sabrina had plenty of extras to let me wear.

Sabrina’s hopes for the night was to go home with the DJ from my birthday party. I had no motives for the night except to get drunk.

As if she read my mind, she reentered the room with a champagne bottle and two flutes in her hand.

“God you look so good!” she exclaims. “I have to put mine on now.” she shoves the bottle and glasses into my hand and runs to her bathroom to change. I pour the glasses full and hand one out to her when she exits.

“You look perfect.” I compliment her.

“Dude I know.” she says, walking over to her mirror and taking a selfie. I giggle at her and pull out my phone. It was 9:33 and I had a text from Rafe.

What’re you wearing tonight?

Something sexy

Send me a picture

You’ll have to wait till you see it on my instagram

You’re such a tease … Give me the color at least

Gold

Wow that is sexy

What’s your plans for tonight

Slummin it with Sarah while she whines about not getting a New Years kiss with johnbee

:( Be nice to her

Only because you told me to.

Top’s throwin tonight we’re about to leave

Im jealous

You should be :p

Shut up

Make me

Dont ask for things you dont actually want

What if i do

“Who’re you texting?” she says, taking a sip of champagne trying to peak down at my phone.

“No one important.” I say, clicking my phone off.

“When are you gonna tell me whats going on between you and Rafe?”

“Dont know what you’re talking about.” I say, mimicking her response from my probing questions earlier.

“I see the way he looks at you. And the way he touches you. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And I mean anyone.” She pours herself another full glass and tops mine off.

“We’ve known each other for a while. I grew up around them so he probably just thinks of me like a sister or something.” I say shrugging.

“You and I both know he does not treat Sarah the same way he treats you so don’t even try that.” she says, with a serious face this time.

“Why does it matter Sab?” I ask, my face getting flustered. I let the topic go earlier about her and Top, but she wasn’t letting this one go.

“You guys would be cute.” she finally says after a few seconds of silence. I roll my eyes and walk over to my bag, pulling out my heels.

“That’s not what it is.” I huff.

“HA so something IS going on!”

I decide to give in. I knew Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone and it was getting hard to keep it a secret from her anymore.

“Fine. We slept together. A few times. But that’s it.”

“And you’re texting.”

“He’s in Bora Bora.”

“He’s on vacation .. and hes on his phone texting you.”

“Its barely a conversation, let alone an intelligent one. No substance. He’s just bored.” I say defensively, buckling the clip of my heels on and standing up.

“This is so hot.” she says with a huge smile across her face. “I can’t believe your fucking Rafe. Is he good?” she asks.

I down the flute of champagne, pouring myself another glass before answering.

“Yea it’s pretty good.” I state. I check my phone to see that Rafe hadn’t answered. I frown slightly and look back over to Sabrina.

“Ready to go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 11:45 and I was alone. A bottle of champagne in one hand and a joint in the other. I had stolen a few cigarettes from some random pack that was left unattended on the bar. Everyone was hammered, the music was too loud and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I stumbled down the hill of Topper’s backyard and made my way to the pier, walking closer to the edge by the water. I sit down on the edge and light both the joint and the cig.

The bass of the music rumbled down to the deck, vibrating the water below. I checked my phone again and saw that Rafe still hadn’t texted me back. I chugged a mouthful of champagne back and opened the spotify app. I was in the mood to listen to anything else other than house music.

The first song that plays on shuffle was Ribs. I laughed and turned the volume up, taking a drag from each of the lit sticks in my hands.

“What’re you doing out here?” The voice makes me practically jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard the footsteps due to my intoxication and music rumbling around me. I turn my head to see the dark figure walking closer. The light at the edge of the deck where I sat illuminated their face.

It was Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak out.

“Dad had some business he needed to get back to so I hitched a ride with him.”

I rose to my feet and he walked closer to me.

“How long have you been home? How long have you been here?” My heart was racing and I felt insecure, realizing at the sight he was looking at. Me, crossed and alone on new years, listening to Lorde.

“We landed around 10, I got here around 11. ’ve been lookin for you. “

“You could’ve texted me.”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he says with a smirk, stepping closer. He takes the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig. He then takes the joint out of my hand, taking a long drag. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.” he chuckles, and sits down next to my phone on the pier.

After a few seconds, I sit next to him, about a foot of space between us. I stare out into the water, finishing up the cig, passing it to him for the last hit it had. He takes a drag and bums it out on the deck. He passes me back the bottle and joint and cracks his knuckles. I take a few sips before breaking the silence.

“How could you leave Bora Bora a week early?”

“Didn’t want to be alone on New Years.”

“Like I am” I snort. He looks over to me. For the first time, his eyes are soft. His pupils aren’t dilated like they usually are when we’re at events like this, an effect from the white powder he snorts. I never see him sober anymore.

Hurricane by Halsey starts to play from my phone, filling the silence that had fallen between us again.

That’s exactly what he made me feel inside. Like there was a fucking storm brewing. I wanted to run and hide from the way he made me feel so I didn’t have to accept it. Like I had whiplash from his emotions. I never knew if he was going to say something nice or something mean. I never knew what mood he would be in. He was always lingering, I never knew when to expect to see him. Like tonight. He just appeared. He tore me open, left me devastated. And I liked it.

“Well now we’re here. Not alone anymore.” he finally says. A shiver runs up my spine and I hand him back the bottle. I had reached my limit for the night. The world felt like it was spinning, his surprise appearance leaving me in a haze. A dreamlike state. I wanted to pinch myself to check if this was even real or if I blacked out and this was a dream.

A countdown from the house rumbled through the air. Rafe put the bottle down and inched towards me. My breath hitched and I felt my hands start to shake. His hand reaches up to cup the side of my face and I look at him. His eyes still soft.

When the crowd chants Happy New Year, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Its the sweetest he’s ever kissed me. My shaky hands trail up and hold his neck, pressing myself up, deeper into the kiss. When we finally break free, he keeps his face close to mine.

“Happy New Year.” he whispers. Fireworks erupt from someones house across the water, lighting his face up with color.

“Take me home.”

Rafe led the way up the hill back to the Cameron estate, holding my hand and the other holding onto my heels that I had taken off.

When we walk inside the house is quiet and dark. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and we go upstairs. We turn left at the top of the stairs, instead of my usual right to Sarah’s room. I held my breath when walking in, it felt odd going into his room. I haven’t been inside of it since I was like 11.

It looked vaguely familiar from all those years ago, posters of his favorite artists and cars he liked, his desk with random papers piled on it. His closet door was closed, a few jackets hung from the back of the door. His floor was clean, which was a nice surprise from a teenage boy. His sheets were black and had a white knitted throw blanket on top.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached his arms out, pulling me onto his lap, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

“This dress is breathtaking.” he whispers. His hand trails from my cheek, fingers hovering over my bottom lip. I stay as still as possible, keeping eye contact with him. His thumb holds my chin, pulling my face closer to his.

“What do you want pretty girl?” he says, his breath lingers over my mouth and I hesitate for a second to answer.

“I want you.” I finally say, releasing the breath I had been holding. He presses his mouth against mine, I part mine open, letting his tongue circle around inside. I begin to unbutton his top, and unbuckle his pants. When they fall to the floor, I go down with them, on my knees in front of Rafe. He visibly gulps and I begin to palm his length on the outside of his boxers. They were Calvin Klein this time. I start to pepper kisses along his happy trail, teasing the band of his boxers, I can feel his abs flex, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

I finally pull his boxers off, his cock slapping up against his abdomen.

“Hold my hair for me?” I ask, battling my lashes up at him. He nods his head feverishly, swiping it all up into his grip in one go. I spit on the top of his tip and hear his breathing get ragged.

Taking him in slowly, I wrap my lips around his tip, letting my spit drop down his shaft, using my hand to spread the saliva around. I swirl my tongue around his tip and look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut.

I push myself down his length, trying to my hardest to make it down to his base without gagging. He bucks up into my mouth, making his tip hit the back of my throat. Tears brim my eyes and I feel drool dripping from the corners of my mouth. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his chest glistening against the warm light shining from the corner of the room.

Rafe’s hand pulls my hair up and he pushes back down, bobbing my head on his cock. I let him take over completely, and his hips start to thrust up into my mouth, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, he grunts loudly with each thrust.

“Fuck ‘M gonna cum.” he whsipers, a soft whine coming from his mouth as hes unable to keep his composure before filling my mouth with his cum, shooting straight down the back of my throat.

I swallow everything he released into my mouth, wiping the outside corners with the back of my hand. Rafe releases his grip on my hair and I sit up on my knees, batting my eyelashes up at him for my next direction.

“I’m sorry I might be out of commission for tonight.” he says sheepishly, pulling his boxers back on and scratching the back of his head.

“It’s alright. I owed you anyways.” I respond before standing up and walking around to pick up my shoes. From the corner of my eye I see Rafe frown, and rub his hands on his face.

“You headin out already?” he finally says after a few seconds of silence. I nod and walk back over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him, attempting to put my shoes on.

“You know, you can stay here if you’d like. Its dangerous out there.” I chuckle at this and look up to meet his eyes. They’re soft, and he has a vulnerable look on his face, something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“I dont know Rafe, we usually don’t do that.” I say, trying to respect the non existent boundaries of our relationship. We’ve never even talked about what this is, let alone what was allowed. He chews on his lip nervously, another few seconds of silence linger around the room.

“But I want you to stay.” I stop fumbling with my shoes when the words come out of his mouth. I internally debate on what this could mean. It was a line that seemed like it shouldn't be crossed, but looked so inviting to try.

“Can I borrow some clothes then?” I ask. He smiles and jumps off the bed, walking over to his dresser and tossing a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He walks to the ensuite bathroom, rummaging around in the cabinet and pulls out a toothbrush in its packaging.

“You can use my toothpaste. I dont got any makeup remover, but I have some face wash and lotion” he says into the room before starting to brush his own teeth. I slip off the dress I was wearing and place it onto his desk chair, placing the heels under his desk. I plug my phone into the closest outlet, and change into the clothes he provided. When Rafe steps out of the bathroom, I go in after him, using the toiletries he provided me to freshen up.

When I enter back into his bedroom, the last light that remains on is his bedside lamp. Rafe laid flat on his back, with his eyes closed. I crawl onto the bed, coming up beside him. He peaks one eye open and smiles, reaching his arms out to grab and pull me closer, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

I cuddle up against his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair, falling deeper into sleep with each breath. I wasn’t sure what possessed Rafe to fly home early, and invite me to stay the night at his house, but it worried me that this might mean we had to have some sort of discussion about what was happening. I had no experience with a situation like this before, and Sarah’s words about Rafe and his ill intentions haunted my thoughts.

I thought about what I wanted. I wasn’t actually sure to be honest. I’ve known Rafe forever, I felt comfortable around him and he knows me well. But I also consider that he’s still just a guy with needs and maybe just wants a friends with benefits situation. Which I would be alright with, as long as if he gets to mess around with other people, so do I.

Before I could work myself up anymore about the thought of me and Rafe, soft snores escaped his mouth as he fell asleep. I clutched the side of his body tighter and kisses his cheek, whispering goodnight before resting my head on his chest and falling asleep.

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[hannieween]

the shadow | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 10.6k

› 🎧: truth be told – baekhyun | blame – i.m | slidin' – kai | ribbon – dpr ian | burn it – bibi ft. dean | show me – devita | shadow – ten | lovememore – dosii | fuxxin' love (2019) – OoOo | hold me down – hyejin

› proofread by the lovelies @gyuhao5 and @monamipencil ty 🩵

› this one shot is part 3 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: violence: abduction (not jeonghan at reader or the way around), yandere undertones, toxic relationship, smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, comfort fuck, switch reader, switch jeonghan, jeonghan is down atrocious, dirty talk, cowgirl, worship. pet names: little demon, baby, (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

THE GROUND VIBRATED BENEATH YOUR FEET. It was a Friday night, and the city was alive with desire and sin. The streets were busy with people going around, and the buzzing from their souls was distracting, making you hungry.

But, living in the human world as a demon meant that you had to keep your head down. It would be incredibly dumb on your part to start a carnage in the middle of the street. Besides, you were odd, since you liked living amongst them like you were part of their world too.

In that same vein, you had adopted some of their nature too, so you were running late for work. It was your third month working in a small local pub in the town you used to live. It was a simple enough job. You had found out that you had a natural talent for tending to drunken people, and they found themselves naturally attracted to you. So, suffice it to say, that you earned a good amount of tips every night.

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” you said, removing the scarf you wore on your neck and hanging it on the coat rack.

“You’re only wearing that?” your co-worker, Daisy stared at you as though you were an odd bug. “It’s cold as a witch’s teat outside.”

“Witches are cool. That is why I am team cold,” you sighed, grabbing your pen and a notepad. “How’s it been?”

“Slow,” Daisy replied with a dead tone. “A passerby asked for you,” she mentioned offhandedly as she looked at her reflection in a hand mirror, checking out her lipstick.

“Who?” you frowned. You had a few regulars that admittedly only came to see you, but Daisy would know them by name.

“Some random weirdo,” she shrugged. “Didn’t say your name, but he gave your description to the last hair on your head. Creepy.”

You grew more intrigued, turning to her to see the disinterest on her face. “What did you tell him?”

“To fuck off, naturally,” she replied with the same ease. “He refused to give me his name, so I refused to give him details about you.”

“Is he still here?” you asked, walking towards the door and sneaking a glance through the small round window to the pub.

“He’s sitting on one of the stools. If it gets to it, I already warned Mike about him,” she smirked triumphantly, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t mind having a little fun watching him throw that creep out. It would make my Friday night.”

In the bar, you saw a man, sitting on the far side of the row of stools. He kept his head down, so it was nearly impossible for you to discern the features of his face. But one thing you knew, it was the first time that you had seen him.

“Well, I suppose that my Friday night just got more interesting.”

Daisy sent you a knowing look, her shoulders going slack in a sign of defeat. “Don’t tell me you’re going to talk to that guy?” she asked with an incredulous tone. “I was a bitch to him, I gave him the middle finger already! All for nothing?”

“We’ll find out,” you smirked at her, pushing the door open and stepping out of the backroom of the pub and into the warm and cozy place, buzzing with the sounds of the people gathering, clinking their jars and laughing out loud.

Some people greeted you with nods and waves of their hands, some people called your name whenever you strolled around the pub, between the tables and chairs. Usually, you would make your way to the first table that waved you down, but this time, you walked straight behind the bar.

“Hi, Mikey,” you greeted with a sing-song tone. “How’s it going?”

“Like any Friday night,” the older man spoke, he was about a foot taller than you, his beard adorned with gray hairs. “A guy is looking for you, Daisy told me,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “First sign of trouble, tell me.”

“Thank you, Mikey,” you sighed, showing him a smile. Something within you stirred with something akin to satisfaction. To be surrounded by people who take care of you, in the best way humanely possible, made you feel special, and welcomed.

If only they knew. If they knew that you were very much capable of handling any trouble, even more capable than Mikey to kick out any drunkard without batting an eye. But they did not have to know, in fact, you were trying your best to keep your head down, and avoid drawing attention to yourself.

However, that happened naturally to you. People glanced your way without you even looking for it. So you made your way to the end of the bar, stopping in front of the person sitting on the last stool.

He wore a black leather jacket, his hair equally dark was long and arranged in a ponytail, some hairs hanging on the sides in a messy fringe. He toyed with the rim of his jar, half emptied already.

“You’ve been looking for me?” you placed your elbows neatly on the countertop, leaning slightly so you could sneak a better look to his face.

The man beat you to it, raising his head so he could direct a careful glance over you, sizing you up. Once he gathered with his eyes every detail of your physique, he nodded. “Yeah, that might be you who I’m looking for,” he said offhandedly, tilting his head to one side.

You coughed, getting an uncomfortable feeling as he eyed you up and down. “What can I help you with?”

He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You could not make out what he was about, and that was when you started to get a flight or fight feeling. Like a prey who is being sighted by its killer, far between the lines of discretion.

“I want you to tell me,” he began, keeping his voice low and his brown eyes on your face. “Why does a demon live between humans? Isn’t that surpassing the line of playing with your food?”

You froze in an instant, fear of being caught sizzling underneath your skin. “Who are you?” you asked.

“I should be asking that to you,” he frowned. “Listen, I see that you care about the humans that are around you right now, so, I’d suggest that we take this conversation elsewhere, away from any potential casualties.”

“What if I don’t care about the humans around me?” you countered, making him pause and consider your words. “Like you said, what if I like playing with my food?”

He narrowed his brown eyes, his lips forming a syllable, but then they broke into a grin. “You’re lying.”

You looked at him in pure perplexion. You had heard about demon hunters before in your short life as a demon. But you never had the opportunity to come across one, so you never really cared.

“Are you a hunter?” you asked, silently reprimanding yourself for showing that you were actually shaken by his presence.

He was dark. Alluring, even. If you dared to glimpse past his mask, you saw a smoking light dancing inside him, it was his soul.

“I am,” he nodded politely, as though he had a rule to keep diplomacy before he hunted you down.

“Suppose I don’t get a name?” you smirked, trying to keep your nerves in line.

“Only if I get yours first.”

That was smart. The hunter knew that there was a power in knowing your name. Demons were creatures of subservience. They were ruled by sin, by corruption. But as such, they had to be kept in check somehow. And when you knew a demon’s domain, you could practically rule them. If you were strong enough.

You stuck out your hand to him, smiling before uttering your name. “At your service.”

The hunter raised his brown eyes, you saw the confusion in them. Your brazenness was not something out of the ordinary for demons who were in the human world like you, but the nerve to give out your name like that did its work to shake him. But he took your hand, all the same, slightly parting his mouth. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Both of you stilled, your hand instinctively tightening around his as a foreign, but also so familiar feeling crept inside you, gripping you wholly. You sucked in a breath, your eyes glazing over. Oh, no, your mind echoed. Is this…

A bond. And not just any bond.

Yoon Jeonghan frowned, his mouth agape, his eyes teary as he shared that feeling with you. And you waited to see if he knew the reason behind the preternatural sensation coiling around his heart. But he remained motionless, did not even protest when you slipped your hand out of his grip. The turbulent fire inside him calmed down when his dark eyes met yours.

The hunter cleared his throat, blinking dumbly as he jumped down the stool, exiting the place without saying a word.

And that is how you meet Yoon Jeonghan. Your soulmate.

A year went by like water slipping through your fingers. Seasons changed and you welcomed each one of them like any regular human would, except that instead of wearing a costume on Halloween like everyone else, you would just display your horns on your head. Instead of celebrating Christmas, you would go out on a hunt for sins, which oddly enough was a day with many to choose from.

But one thing that was a constant in your life for the whole year round, was the push and pull with Yoon Jeonghan.

Many nights had passed since your last encounter with him, the night you confessed to having been starving yourself of human sins in the fruitless attempt to become human yourself. Nights had turned into weeks, then months, three to be exact. Now you were running from him, only stopping to feed from him.

You were out one night, enjoying the buzzing from the streets of the city. The excitement you felt around you from human souls was nearly making your mouth water. That was until you felt someone tracking you, a distant shadow that kept you out of your line of sight.

He had been lurking for too long, following you from town to town, through the shadows that the tall buildings of the city cast. Following you like a monster on a leash.

You smirked secretly, looking over your shoulder to see his silhouette wrapped in shadows. Jeonghan had found you again, just like he always would. As long as you and him lived, you would always cross each other’s paths.

It had become a game for you. And now it was time to run.

Being a demon was freeing in so many ways. Now that you were at your full strength, you were also freed from all kinds of inhibitions. You did not need a house or shelter, you did not possess belongings or extra clothes.

So you just sprung into a run, quickly devising a plan to escape from this city, and hit the next town until Jeonghan found you again. The city passed you in a blur, and soon your surroundings turned into walls made of thick trees.

You were not sure if Jeonghan knew you were playing a game. At this point, he was just as enslaved to it as you were, running away, only to be found by him. An endless push and pull.

But this felt different to all the times he loomed on your back. No, this was a first. Jeonghan kept himself far away from you out of shame, yes. However, this time it was not a shame for liking you, nor not being able to resist you.

Jeonghan was sorry.

And he would watch you tear through a different town until he mustered all the strength he needed to come to you, announcing himself between the shadows, tail between his legs. You were completely familiar with that. But now you just decided to make him suffer a little.

Other times, you did not resist him; you would take him wherever you could, an empty alleyway. The last time you did this, you took him in the backseat of his car, fucking him until he was a complete mess. You would wait until he fell asleep to exit his car quietly and leave him to wake up completely alone.

Yoon Jeonghan was no fool. He knew you were playing hard to get. He knew that what you were doing was payback for all the times he tried to resist you. All the times he tried to pretend that what he felt for you was some sort of divine retribution.

But in truth, he could not keep allowing himself to be with you. You showed up in his life like a comet falling out of the sky, crashing and burning everything around him, leaving him blind to all reason, too stupid to do anything. So stupid that he lost whatever made sense in his life, and he lost you as well.

Even if he did not actually have you.

Jeonghan sat alone in a booth pushed up to the corner of the diner, where he was slowly chewing the last bits of his breakfast, looking out the window pensively.

The pull he had towards you grew stronger, sometimes thinner, but it was always there. Now that he knew that what he felt was a result of something bigger than him, and than you, he had resorted to analyzing it.

After finishing up his plate, he raised his hand to flag the waitress down, asking for another cup of coffee.

You slid to the seat in front of him with a short sigh, fixing your hair with your hands as if you had just finished jogging, which, Jeonghan thought, could have been the case.

The waitress refilled the cup of coffee, and Jeonghan kindly thanked the lady, pushing the cup to you to then hand you the sugar.

“Did you know I was close?” you asked, bewildered at noticing how quickly Jeonghan had learned to discern your proximity by using the bond.

Jeonghan was tempted to say that he also knew how you liked your coffee. Two sugars, no milk. But that had nothing to do with the bond. So, he just nodded with his head.

“Well, that’s no fun,” you muttered, pouring the sugar on the teaspoon, one, two and sending him a look, you poured a little more sugar.

Jeonghan smiled quietly, it was not a happy smile. “I supposed you would grow bored if I stopped following you across the country. I was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m here because I’m hungry,” you said flatly, raising your hand to flag the waitress down.

He also knew that. And not only that, but he also knew that you did not need waffles and bacon, your favorite. You needed something that would never be found on a diner’s menu. Or any restaurant’s menu for that matter.

“Can I have waffles with syrup, please?” you asked with a sweet tone, beaming at the lady. “Oh, and can I have bacon with that?”

Jeonghan looked at the way you smiled at the waitress, his stomach tightening a little in both nervousness and something more, it was a foreign feeling.

He noticed how the woman tensed up at your presence. Humans had a natural fight-or-flight response to demons, but with you, they just assumed it was because of your natural beauty. Or your assertiveness.

“And you suppose I can help ease your hunger?” Jeonghan asked, keeping an eye on the surroundings for any signs of danger, in case you and him needed to run.

“Yeah,” you responded in an obvious tone, taking a small sip from your cup of coffee.

Jeonghan noticed the way you carefully pressed your lips on the rim, as though you could burn yourself.

“I mean, how else am I going to pay for this?” you smirked, placing your chin on your hands, expecting him to laugh, or to say something quippy at you.

“Fine,” Jeonghan said, releasing a puffy sigh in annoyance.

He wondered if this would lead to a serious conversation about what happened the last time you talked. But chances were, you were just having more fun torturing him.

He deserved it.

Something deep inside him pulsated, kicking the air out of his lungs. The feeling rippled, it went on as he blinked and found you, looking equally astounded. But you recuperated faster than him, you usually did.

“How did you know?” Jeonghan heard himself blurt, his tone rough as though he had been screaming for hours. “About the bond?”

You cleared your throat, composing yourself on the seat by resuming to stir your coffee. “I’ve lived in the underworld, Jeonghan, I know how a bond behaves and feels like,” you said, eyeing the woman closing up to leave your breakfast on the table. “Thank you, ma’am,” you smiled politely.

“I thought bonds were only made after making a deal with a demon,” Jeonghan mumbled, keeping his tone in a volume only you would be able to hear. “You and I have never struck a deal.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Einstein,” you quipped, taking a generous piece of waffles bathed in syrup to your mouth. You moaned blissfully, the sound was not sexual, but it had several eyes drawn to you.

Jeonghan knew why, your voice was sweet, appealing to the human senses. It also had an effect on him, but that was because of an entirely different reason. He cleared his throat too.

“Bonds made with deals or promises are quite common. No, this is different,” you said after gulping down the waffles with coffee. “You and I were made with this bond. It’s always existed for us.”

He looked at you confusedly as you tore through your breakfast. “What do you mean we were made with the bond?”

You dragged the last bit of waffles through the pool of syrup on your plate. “We were born with it.”

“You were born…” he trailed off.

“I was made, Jeonghan,” you pointed your fork at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I knew that,” he said, blinking slowly. “But following your logic, you had to be born at the same time as me.”

“Time is different in the underworld,” you reminded him, chewing slowly to enjoy the last bit off your plate. “I’m actually a little bit older than you.”

Jeonghan had assumed that as well. Though he knew you were a fairly younger demon from the ones he has faced, you had to be older than him, guessing by your physical strength alone. “So you’ve known all this time.”

You nodded, pushing your empty plate aside. “Ever since we spoke to each other,” you crossed your arms on the table, directing a serious look at him. “I’ve always known, Jeonghan.”

“You could’ve told me just to toss it at my face,” he pointed, there was no venom in his words, he was as confused as he was the night you left him. “All this time, I thought that this was some sort of retribution, a divine cause and effect I had to endure for wanting to be around you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

At that, you lowered your eyes in guilt. “I never thought it would make a difference. I never thought you would believe me, so I never said anything.”

Jeonghan felt a kind of pain he had never felt before he met you. It coiled around his heart, it was remorse because he knew what you did not want to say, what he could not bring himself to do.

Because even after you told him, he did nothing. It did not make a difference. He still refused you, he refused to give in.

“Can I help you with something else?” the waitress approached, addressing him intently.

You kept your head down, so Jeonghan never saw the glimmer in your eyes from the tears that were beginning to form.

“The bill, please,” he said, but he was quickly distracted.

You were sliding on the seat, walking away from the table, and then pushing the door open, exiting the diner.

“Shit,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath, reaching for his wallet, and pulling out a bill, quickly leaving the place to follow you, knowing that by the time he reached outside, you would be gone.

You were nowhere to be seen, Jeonghan scouted with his gaze his surroundings, were you mocking him again?

When he turned around, he let out a short breath in relief. You were sitting on the passenger seat of his car, aloofly checking the roots of your hair, pretending to ignore him while hiding a smile.

Jeonghan sent his gaze skyward, trying to find some patience in the grim-looking sky. It would rain soon, and you did not have somewhere to crash now that you were effectively on the run and alone.

He decided to go along with whatever crazed plan you were crafting, he felt he was in no position to do otherwise, but to follow. Even if you were just toying with him in revenge.

You followed him with your eyes as he went around the car, yanking the door open and sliding to the seat silently. “Where are we heading to?” you asked, primly tucking your hands between your thighs.

“We’re skipping town,” he said, turning the key on the engine.

“Already?” you turned slightly to get your seatbelt on. “I thought you would like this town.”

“Why is that?” he kept his town flat, trying to keep the discontent at bay.

“It’s lonely,” you said sweetly. “For lonely people such as you.”

“We need the opposite of lonely right now,” he replied, trying to ignore to the best of his ability to omit the fact that the last town he lived in was solely because he could keep an eye on you that way.

“Mn,” you hummed pensively. “You’re no fun when you’re angry and quiet,” you pointed with a knowing tone, turning to look out the window.

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow, trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, he leaned his head to his hand, an elbow propped on the windowsill.

You read his silence, your lip curling a little in a smile. “You know that I can also read you, right?”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he muttered tiredly, avoiding to look your way.

You clicked your tongue but decided to keep quiet. Jeonghan was frustrated, that much you knew, telling from the rigidness of his movements, the way his hand tightened around the steering wheel. Two fingers rubbed his bottom lip harshly, he kept that motion for so long that you thought that it had to burn him at some point.

But aside from that, you could see the enraged flame inside him, dancing erratically from the moment you showed up at the diner. You knew that your tantrum had run its course, and he was now trying not to tell you how miserable you had made him these past few weeks.

And he knew that you were only turning to him so you could feed. That had been obvious from the moment he saw you. Your skin was colorless and dry, the bags under your eyes were prominent, and not only that, Jeonghan probably assumed that you no longer wanted to consume human souls, only his sins.

Soon, you entered a new city that welcomed you with a big sign, Welcome to Veridian Bay! leading to a bridge crossing over the waterfront and into the big city with big, tall buildings.

You leaned to the window to take a look at how tall the buildings stood, the streets were busy with people, and everything was alive with buzzing sounds. Jeonghan kept driving deep into the city, until you reached a quieter part, away from the tall buildings, the shiny stores and flashy signs.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, looking curiously at the big shopping mall he just parked his car in front of.

“We need to buy clothes,” he directed a judging look at you.

“What’s wrong with mine?” you asked to no end. Your clothes were torn and filthy, another reason why people threw you second looks at every place you walked into, demon allure or not.

Jeonghan exited the car, and you followed him closely, as though you were trying not to lose him in between the people.

“I have a question,” you said, sticking to his side to shield yourself from the weird looks you were receiving. You did not care about it, but you wanted to keep a low profile as much as you could. “What happened to the two hunters?”

“They stopped chasing you,” he replied in a quiet tone, leading you to a department store.

Everything was bright with colors, and shiny lights hanging from the ceiling. Rows of clothing racks are laid in front of you in an elaborate maze. You had been to malls before, but never to one as big as this. And definitely never with Jeonghan.

“Do you think I’m free from them, then?” you yanked your gaze from a row of pretty blouses, your fingers itching to touch the fabric.

“Not by a long shot, no,” he answered, tensing beside you when your arm brushed his. “Choose something quickly, the shorter we stay here, the better.”

You grabbed a plain white t-shirt, measuring it over your torso and facing the mirror where Jeonghan stood, watching you intently. “Do you think this one goes with my body type?” you asked fruitlessly.

He just huffed, rolling his eyes swiftly. “Stop playing,” he said, looking around precatively. “We need to find somewhere safe to stay, and you need to feed soon.”

The way he gritted out the words allowed for the quiet rage simmering inside him slip through. A light shock appeared on his face, much as if he heard his own words and quickly forced himself to composure.

Jeonghan was mad, and you were the reason why the flame inside him was growing into a merciless fire burning inside him.

“Alright,” you hummed, picking a pair of jeans, a long t-shirt and undergarments.

Jeonghan followed you as you made your way to the queue line to pay. His mind was once again buzzing with questions, if anything, the conversation back in the diner left him even more confused.

He had thought all this time that what he felt for you was some kind of joke. The insane lust, the deep craving, the endless nights he spent thinking about you, dreaming about you… all because of a supernatural bond he never had control of.

You made a tiny cooing sound, making him snap his gaze to where you stood in line. You were lifting a finger to match with a baby’s pointer finger. The baby girl was looking over the shoulder of her mother who queued up in front of you. Somehow, you had attracted the focus of the baby, and you were now caught up in her big eyes, in her dimpled hands.

Jeonghan’s stomach twisted violently. You smiled at the baby as she wrapped her tiny hand around your finger, laughing with you. The feeling tightening inside him was completely alien to him, he wanted to get rid of it as you would an illness.

He never understood why it was impossible for him to fight against you. He used to think that your innate allure created that attraction he felt for you, he used to think that you were playing games on him.

But that did not explain one thing. As he watched your joyous smile, he realized that what he felt was not entirely carnal. He recalled what he felt that night he knew you were slipping away, the fear of losing you.

The tight feeling coiled inside his chest when you lifted your eyes at him, keeping that joy with you from being paid attention to by an innocent baby. The interaction had been so pure and out of the ordinary for you that it brought a spark to your dark eyes.

The knot inside him broke free, blooming inside him freely, filling his chest with a warmth that was nearly intoxicating.

“Are you okay, hunter?” you asked quietly, noticing the change in his eyes, the quiet rage dying down at the same time the look of bewilderment on his face set in.

“Yeah,” he forced out, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered awkwardly, still shocked at how suddenly his erratic mood disappeared. What added to the shock was that Jeonghan did not lie to you, he was indeed fine, however, the shock on his face was confusing to you. 

“One bed, again?” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan closed the door to the small motel room. This one had a leather couch that looked decent compared to the thin white curtains that allowed for the light coming from the street outside to seep through.

“What’s the point in asking for two beds?” Jeonghan shrugged, taking off his black leather jacket as he let out a cough.

“I’d appreciate it if you actually made some effort in swaying me,” you mentioned off-handedly as you started zipping down your hoodie. “I’m still a lady, you know?”

At that, Jeonghan chuckled. “You are as much as a lady as I am a gentleman, so,” he shrugged. “There’s the couch, if you care that much.”

“You’re right,” you snapped your fingers at him. “You can sleep on the couch, I’ll sleep on the bed!”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, raising his arms to grab his tight black shirt and pull it over his head.

You stopped, dead in your tracks. Jeonghan had a very deceiving build, most would think he was lean and due to his affection for dark clothes, he masked himself well to curious eyes. But in fact, Jeonghan had a toned body, a low bulk that had been built up due to the nature of his work.

His milky white skin was adorned with scars, bruises and bitemarks from creatures he hunted down. As he removed the sleeves from his arms, he sent you a look. “What?” he blurted.

You were too caught up to come up with a lie, but something deep inside you recoiled in nervousness. “I was just looking at you,” you mumbled meekly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “You’re gawking.”

You shrugged. “Can’t blame me. You’d be gawking too if I suddenly decided to strip naked.”

“Tsk,” he smiled playfully, throwing the t-shirt on the couch. “It would be fair game, at least.”

“Shut up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at him. But still, you stared at his fingers undoing the belt of his black denim jeans, pulling it from the hoops.

“Alright, then,” he said, giving his belt the same treatment, discarding it on the couch. He placed his hands on his hips, his torso forming a perfect inverted triangle. “Are you going to keep playing dumb with me?”

You arched one eyebrow at him, too surprised at his bluntness to even speak. Gaping, you stood there for a second, trying to decide on deflection or acceptance.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you turned your back on him, mustering all the will in you to not glance his way. You started rummaging in the bag of clothes, pulling out an I love kitties shirt that you got as a nightgown. It had a doodle of an orange cat on it.

“Please,” he huffed, and you bit your bottom lip. “You can’t lie to me so don’t try to treat me like I’m stupid.”

“Take a hint, hunter. I don’t want to talk about this,” you said but failed to coat your words with enough venom.

A hand circled around your wrist, pulling you to his body, commanding you to face him. With a gasp, you yanked back, looking at him furiously. But his gaze smothered that fire inside you at once. “You left,” he said, the trouble in his mind mirrored in his dark gaze. “You left me.”

“Yeah, I left because you could not even talk to me, Jeonghan,” you replied, trying to step back from him, the back of your knees finding the bed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “I’ve spent three months chasing you across the fucking country,” he said. “You only stop running when you need to feed from me. I’ve paid enough, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” you gritted, betraying yourself. Your eyes started brimming with tears, angry tears, sorrowful tears. They carried all the misery that you had lived as his soulmate.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded, his tone rising in exasperation.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shying away. You lowered your face, bringing a hand to wipe the wetness on your cheeks.

“That’s not true.”

As you raised your head, you involuntarily sniffled. “Well, you know what I want, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan gaped at you for a moment, choking on his argument. He knew then that nothing would give peace to this fight because there was no solution to this.

You wanted to become human. In your mind, it was the only way you could stop feeding from his lust, his greed. It was the only way to make you stop feeding from human souls. And by that, you would not be hunted down for being a demon. Jeonghan would not have to feel remorseful every time he looked at you.

But it was something uncertain. You did not know whether the path to becoming human would even work, or if you would survive it.

“Is there a way to end this?” Jeonghan asked, his heart stammering painfully in his chest.

“End what?” you asked slowly.

He blinked for a long second, gathering his strength. “Is there a way to break the bond?”

The question robbed you of air, and Jeonghan could see it in your gentle exhale. Your eyes glinting with sorrow, wide and looking at his face as though you had trouble assimilating his words.

“You-you want to break the bond?” you asked, stuttering under an overwhelming pain.

“Is it possible?” he pressed, breathing hard, trying to shake off the numbing pain in his heart.

“N-no, I don’t know,” you sucked in a breath, which he understood to be a sob. “D-do you want to break it, Jeonghan?”

“If it means we’re free from each other then yes,” he whispered, hating the look in your eyes with a passion that he could not stand. He was causing that pain and in turn, he felt it too.

But maybe what you felt for each other was not real. Maybe once the bond is broken, you would realize that what you felt for him was all a farce, he thought.

You rubbed the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eye. “M-maybe,” you mumbled. “But I don’t think so. One of us would have to die, I think,” you spoke with uncertainty because you were sure that the bond would not be broken, not even then.

“You don’t know if your way of becoming human will work,” he mumbled, trying to reason with you. But the truth was, he felt guilty for making you cry.

And you could feel the guilt, it swarmed around him like an angry cloud.

“I know one thing,” you raised your eyes, heedlessly showing him how affected you were by this. “I wouldn’t have to feel how fucking miserable you are when you’re with me,” you spat.

Jeonghan went still, as though petrified. The only thing that moved in him was his gaze, heavy with a dangerous darkness, it coasted over the features of your face. “Is that what you think I am? Miserable?”

“No, Jeonghan, I know it,” you replied with a shaky tone. “I can feel it in you. When you look at me when you touch me.”

He yanked his gaze from you, running a hand on his face while blinking his anger away rapidly. “You don’t know shit,” he hissed at you, motioning to turn his back on you but quickly decided against it.

“Oh, yeah?” you taunted.

“Yeah, you don’t know shit,” he doubled down, his voice raw. “You think that because you can sense what I feel it means that it’s all because of you,” he spat, taking a step closer to you but you raised a hand, trying to stop him, but he insisted, grabbing your hands to stop you instead.

“Then what is it?” you pressed.

“Ever since I met you nothing has made sense in my life,” he hissed, leaning over you. “I hate myself,” he shuddered, swallowing hard. “I hate myself because even if you were human, I wouldn’t have anything to offer you. I can’t even say that I’m sorry because it’s the truth. I can’t give you what you want.”

You looked at him in plain shock. It was such a shame that the only person in the world who saw you for who you were still rejected you. The pain from that realization shook you hard, so hard in fact that you physically recoiled from him, closing your eyes to let your tears go.

Jeonghan watched your tears roll down your cheeks, the silence in the room broken by the occasional intake of breath coming from you. But he stood there, silently cursing life and its way of making fun of him. He was raised to not want anything in life. Not shelter, nor warmth. His sad world, cold as ice and hard as stone. He would have followed this path blindly until the day of his untimely death.

But the truth was, he did want one thing in life. He wanted you. And it was killing him not to admit that.

“I…” you croaked, opening your eyes after a long second. A gaping hole in your heart tried to suck you in. “I thank you for the clothes, Jeonghan,” you said dejectedly, turning away from him and walking towards the door.

Jeonghan stared at the wall in front of him, your arm brushing his as you passed him by. His mind reeled wildly, considering what he went through the last time you walked away from him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he blurted.

“That is none of your concern.”

“Like hell it is,” he said, grabbing your arm before you could reach for the doorknob. You sent him another one of those looks, a dangerous animal realizing it had been caught. “You’re not safe out there.”

“Like you give a shit,” you said, pushing him away with one hand on his chest.

But he grabbed that hand, pulling you to his frame with a sharp tug. “Yeah, what do you even know about me?” he challenged, his words cold. “I wouldn’t be protecting you, chasing you if I didn’t give a shit about you.”

“I would prefer that you didn’t,” you bit back.

“That’s not true,” he said, but his tone rose in desperation. He released your arm, fear crossing his features when he realized that if you walked, he would have to let you go.

“You have a very weird way to show that you care, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, understanding where that fear came from. Because all this time, you accepted the turbulence in his thoughts, in his soul. If you decided to go, he would let you.

The heavy darkness in his gaze dissolved as the features of his face relaxed. The gentle resignation swept over him, reminding you how hard it was for him to even comprehend what the bond was.

Jeonghan had two ways to show his emotions, either through carnal desire or brute force. One of them was the one that was unleashed in the vicious cycle he had with you.

But you welcomed it all the same. He took one step towards you, reaching for you as though fearful you might step away. His hand found the side of your head, the other sliding on your waist, gripping you gently before his lips met yours.

The kiss was slow, tentative at first, showing you an apologetic need to you. But you were still to fueled up from the argument, finding his bare chest with your hands to push him off you.

Jeonghan looked sad for a second, but he quickly understood that you were angry, and looking to make him pay. You pushed him again, more forcefully, but he was stronger than you, stepping towards you like a magnet that refused to keep away from you.

His hands returned to their previous positions, as you found his shoulder with one hand, his nape with the other, welcoming him with a vehement kiss. He groaned under your touch, revelling at the fact that you were kissing him even though you were being harsh with it.

Jeonghan broke the kiss abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, the turbulence inside him dying down, like smothering a fire.

“You should be sorry,” you mumbled on his lips, diving for another hungry kiss before pushing him by the shoulders, and shoving him onto the couch behind him. He sat down, gasping in surprise at the brute force you used on him. A wolfish grin appeared on his lips when you walked over to him, sitting down on his lap, straddling him.

His hands welcomed you, grabbing you by the waist to give you a squeeze. He thought of all the nights he has had the opportunity to be like this with you, and the nights he wished he had never let you go. “I don’t want to break it,” he confessed, tilting his head back to meet your eyes. “The bond. I don’t want to break it,” he repeated.

“Then why did you say…?”

“What if what we feel for each other isn’t real?” he blurted the tight feeling inside him protesting in pain when he spoke those words.

You smiled at him sweetly, making him feel worse. “What do you feel for me, Jeonghan?” you baited.

He swallowed hard, instead of communicating with words, he carefully brought a hand to cup your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin in the process. He pulled your face closer to his, eyeing your lips and then your eyes before giving you a sweet kiss. You reciprocated the kiss, outlining his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, slowly meeting his.

“Do you think all people with bonds feel this for each other, Jeonghan?” you mused. When he was unable to speak out an answer, you continued. “I think the bond only helped us find each other. The rest just happened on its own.”

Jeonghan listened to your words intently, his gaze coasting the features of your face. You’re your eyes, to your mouth and back again. His fingers grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it up your torso.

You raised your hands, helping him take your t-shirt off. He sighed, his hands returning to hold you, caressing your naked back freely, his breath fanning on the plain of your breasts when he leaned over to plant a kiss on your skin.

You raked his hair with your fingers, getting rid of the hair tie holding his ponytail, making him groan as your fingernails caressed his scalp. His lips reached the swell of one of your breasts, planting wet kisses, enjoying the way you always responded to his touch; your skin prickling in the wake of his lips.

He encircled his arms around your waist, using his strength to trade the positions of your body, placing your body on the sofa, him crawling on top of you. Then he kissed you, he kissed you with such force that you thought you might break. It was electrifying to have his lips on yours, him moaning your name in between kisses.

Your hands explored his chest, fingertips lingering on his scars, his nipples, his bellybutton. You undid the button of his jeans, tucking your hands between his underwear and his ass, feeling his skin freely as you pushed his jeans and boxers down.

Once he was completely bare, and on top of you, he took his turn taking your shorts and underwear off. He did so without wasting time, effectively leaving you bare on the couch, and under his body.

He leaned over you, placing a hand beside your shoulder to prop his weight on it, lowering the lower half of his body on you. His skin was warm, you could feel everything, the beating of his heart, the soft pubic hairs brushing your skin. He was hard already, his cock pressing on your lower tummy.

There was a pause, as soon as your naked bodies came into contact with each other, something came alight inside you. You knew Jeonghan felt it too, because his reaction was the same as yours. Like sparks firing wildly inside your chest, lingering on your skin, robbing you of air.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, trying to hold onto the feeling fluttering in your chest.

“I know,” he breathed, leaning so he could give soft pecks to your lips. “I know, baby.”

You sighed a moan, it sounding pathetic as you let him adore your skin. He continued kissing you, your lips, your earlobe, your throat. He hummed softly when he breathed in the scent of your skin when he tasted you on his tongue as he licked your breasts.

You sucked in a breath, caressing his hair as he took one of your nipples in his mouth. “Fuck,” you whispered.  

But he was in a hurry, trailing down your torso with soft, open-mouthed kisses. You moaned, trembling under him as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. Jeonghan knew you better than anyone else on earth, sometimes, you thought he knew your body better than yourself.

“Shit,” you hissed, clenching your jaw as he kissed your mound, pressing his tongue on you’re your skin with a raspy moan on his part. You parted your legs for him, allowing him to lick a broad stripe between your pussy lips, blissfully drinking you in.

The room was flooded with a series of sweet, airy moans from your part. You called out his name multiple times as he ate you out, licking your pussy with soft smacking sounds and low hums. All you could focus on was his tongue on you, gliding on your folds, teasing your clit with flitting motions.

His hands cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs swirling around your nipples, pinching softly to bring out more sweet noises from your mouth. You writhed uncontrollably on the sofa, keeping your hands on the back of his head to try and anchor yourself to enjoy his mouth pleasuring your pussy.

But as you drew nearer to your release, you could not just hold out any longer, pressing your hands on the back of his head and pushing your hips to grind your pussy on his tongue. Your mouth parted. “Jeonghan,” you whined, feeling his mouth relax, letting you ride him.

Moving your hips faster on his mouth, you felt his hands squeezing your tits gently, his thumbs teasing your nipples, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes as your sweet, sweet release washed over you, sizzling beneath your skin.

Your muscles went lax on the sofa, moaning out his name repeatedly as you felt like dissolving in the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you decided against it in a second, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders and urging him to sit back on the sofa.

“What–,”

“Let me ride you,” you mumbled, cutting in before he could protest.

Jeonghan nodded obediently, and you took one whole second to comprehend that he was just letting you do whatever you wanted to him. No complaints, no snarky comments.  

You straddled him, grabbing his cock with one hand and jerking him off a few times just to see the muscles of his face go soft. You smiled, shifting on top of him so you could guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, sinking in him slowly. “Gods,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you said softly, holding his chin with one hand. You lifted your hips slightly, letting them roll on him as you sat back down, eliciting a short groan from him. “That’s it, baby. Feel me. Do you like that?”

Jeonghan blinked slowly, pushing his tongue on his bottom lip before nodding.

“Words, Jeonghan, use them.”

He obediently kept his gaze on you, like you were the moon, and he was looking at you for the first time in ages. “I love it,” he replied with a strangled tone. “I love your pussy. I love how it feels around me.”

Jeonghan dropped his head back on the headrest of the couch, swallowing his moans, his fingers clenching around your hips. “I love your taste too,” he choked out, much as if he needed to say it but barely found the strength to do so, enraptured by pleasure.

One of the corners of your lips curled slowly as you rolled your hips on him, inch by inch, tortuously slow. “Oh, yeah?” you breathed, closing your eyes briefly to savour the feeling of his worshipping washing over you, making your blood dance under your skin.

“Yes,” he hissed out the word and now you knew he was trying to resist himself. “I miss your smell when you’re not near me. Drives me crazy.”

You giggled quietly, knowing that he was letting go of his deepest thoughts.

His fingers dug into your skin hard enough to leave marks. You opened your eyes, seeing the strain in his voice reflecting on his face, his teary eyes coasting all over your body. “Le-let me come, please. I needed you so much, baby. I don’t think I’ll last any longer.”

You held onto his lean shoulders to lift your hips off him, his wet cock slipping out of your walls and leaning to one side on his lower abdomen, the tip was reddened, a vein tracing on his wet shaft.

Jeonghan groaned, closing his eyes tightly to let out a shaky sigh. “Please,” he sighed. “I want to come inside you,” he said but did not make a move to slip his cock back into your cunt.

“Say you’re sorry,” you murmured.

And there it was, the hole in your chest opening once again, sucking you back in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not wasting a second, he said again, “I’m sorry, I let you go.”

You showed him an empty smile, which you pressed onto his lips, grabbing his chin again. “Don’t let me go again,” you pleaded but masked your words to sound sweet, not letting it show that his apology, though forced out of the need for release, was making you feel pain.

Jeonghan returned the light smile, though he was genuine with it. “Never,” he whispered, wrapping an arm on your lower back to keep you in balance as you sank down on his cock again, making him shudder in pleasure. “I promise.”

“Jeonghan–,” you gasped, pausing the sway of your hips on him to look at him perplexedly. “Don’t make promises, you’ll–,”

“I promise I won’t walk away from you,” he said, his dark eyes coasting all over the features of your face.

You closed your eyes, shuddering hard at the tingling rush of blood swimming in your veins; the bond tightening due to the force of the promise setting. “Jeonghan, don’t,” you whispered in plea.

Stopping the movement of your hips completely, you hugged his shoulders, trailing the hair of his nape with your fingers. You breathed raggedly, just as he was by the weight of a new promise binding you both.

“I want this,” he whispered shakily. “Let me.”

“You don’t know what this means for you,” you warned, a violent shudder shaking your body on top of him.

He hugged you tightly to his body as if shielding you from the world. “I do, and I want it,” he reassured.

“Jeonghan…”

But he just went on, “Like you said, we’re meant to be, we’ve always have been,” he said with a low raspy tone, blinking in an enamoured way at you. “And I am sorry it took me so long to accept it. I’m sorry.”

A sob coiled in your throat, fingers curling around the long strands of his dark hair. “I forgive you,” you whispered, daring to give him a shy kiss.

Jeonghan trembled underneath you, reciprocating your kiss with so much delicacy that it could break your heart. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

You stilled completely, your breath coiling in your throat. “Me too,” you finally confessed.

“It’s okay, baby,” he breathed, moving his arms so he no longer wrapped your body in them, but his hands gripped your hips, urging you to retake the motion that he so desperately needed.

So you did, swaying your hips on top of him, moaning sweetly when his hands roved all over your back, caressing your skin, his fingers trailing on the spot he knew your wings grew. You shuddered hard, sinking on his length with more urgency. “Jeonghan,” you moaned, crushing your mouth on him.

Jeonghan hummed in response, smiling at you when you broke the kiss off to see his face. The smile was of genuine bliss, mixed with the pleasure of being so utterly yours, forever. It was something similar to insanity what he felt, but he was aware of it, giving himself into it. “I love you,” he drawled lazily, his eyes glazing over the image of you on top of him.

“J-jeonghan,” you forced out, a euphoric wave swarming inside you, better than anything you had ever felt in your life.

And he felt it too, consuming him in fiery waves. “I love you,” he repeated, enjoying the feeling sizzling beneath his skin, lingering on the muscles of his face.

“F-fuck,” you grabbed onto the headrest of the couch, your fingers ripping into the fabric. “Please–,” you choked out, slamming your hips down on him, moaning out loudly as another orgasm hit you hard.

Jeonghan did not love you. Not like in fairy tales, or romance movies. But he was not lying either, you could feel the genuine calm of his realization as he drawled the words out. He could no longer resist it, nor keep the feeling to himself any further. Jeonghan did not love you, he was worshipping you wholly.

It was rapturing, if it was not before. You came on top of him, loudly, walls clamping around him, making him moan with you. His hands held your hips, urging him to keep moving them so he could also reach his high with you.

But the only thing he needed was to sneak a glance up your face, tears of pleasure brimming in your eyes as your orgasm shook hard inside you. That tipped him over the edge, pushing his hips up so he could spill himself deep inside your walls with a loud, raspy groan that resounded across the room.

“Jeonghan,” you kept moaning his name, hiding your face on the curve of his neck. Your breath fanning on his skin forced out a shudder that made you smile.

He responded with a smile of his own, but his was lazy, drunk over the euphoria coursing through you, the same that coursed through his. “I love you,” he whispered again, clutching your hips gently, moving his hands to your thighs.

Ever since you met him, his lust and need for you have been making you stronger. But now, the near maddening love that brimmed for you drove you to feel so full that you seemed to glow. You stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, breathing hard. He was still inside your body, relishing in the warmth, the wetness, the blissful look in your eyes.

Your hand slid beneath his chin, leaning towards him to prop a featherlight on his lips. “I love you too,” you breathed, feeling like a child who felt pure joy for the first time.

He cursed under his breath, his hands roaming all over your skin as you littered his face with kisses, trailing down to his neck where you sucked his skin into your mouth, marking red spots all over him. He chuckled lazily. “Ready for round three?”

“Mmn, I think I’ll pass out,” you said, giggling at yourself.

“Tired already?” he asked, searching your face with his gaze.

“It’s just…” you sighed, catching your breath but your heart stammered in your chest. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Didn’t you, really? Was it too much?” he hummed bringing his hands to cup your cheeks.

You shook your head slightly, pressing a palm to the back of his hand. “So is this your way to tell me you want this?” you asked.

Jeonghan went still for a second, his gaze lingering on the features of your face illuminated only by the warm light of the lamp. “The odds will be against us,” he said.

“Well I’m willing to bet on us,” you said with a light smirk. “Are you?”

Jeonghan nodded, the avid look in his eyes not quite brushing off. “I’m tired of running from this,” he slipped a hand on your nape, pulling you to a quick kiss. “I want you. I want it to be you and me, as we’re destined to be.”

You drew in a shaky breath, reciprocating the featherlight kiss. “Okay,” you whispered. “Then it’s us.”

“I want nothing more, baby,” Jeonghan said.

 You bumped the tip of your nose with his gently, eyeing him. “What about what you said? About not being able to be with me?”

“I don’t care. I’ll quit that life. I’ll stop hunting,” he muttered.

“And then what?” you mused.

“I can adapt quickly,” he replied, and you chuckled. “I’ll take up a boring human job, we could find somewhere to live in a small town. You’re not the only one who can blend in the human world, you know?”

Okay, you breathed, the glint in your eye told him that you were happy. It was the first time he saw that in you, the first time he had been the cause of that glint.

So he kept going. “I can take you to dates, take you to those fairgrounds, do normal boring shit humans do,” he muttered faintly, closing his lips on yours.

“You would do that, Jeonghan?” you asked softly, pulling back to see his face. “I mean, you would quit everything?”

“To be with you, I would.”

You leaned your face forward again, pressing your forehead with his. “I love you,” you mumbled, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

Jeonghan shuddered gently, but everything inside him came alight with the strength of a thousand suns. Now, if he knew whether a demon could be capable of loving or not was beyond his lucidity at the moment. You were only capable of feeling such things after you first attempted to become human. So the concept of love was as new to you as it was to him.

“I love you,” he whispered back.

“Can we go to bed?” you asked sheepishly, fighting off the urge to nestle in his warmth, to press your nose against the crook of his neck. “I’m ready to pass out.”

“Let’s go to bed,” he replied, noticing the languor in your eyes, blinking slowly.

That was the first time Jeonghan held you through the night without wondering what the morning would bring. For the first time in knowing you, he did not feel guilty for nestling in your warmth.

He stared at your face as you both shared the bed. You were lying on your tummy, one arm draped over him, your head lying on his chest, sleeping soundly in his arms. He languidly brought the pads of his fingers to draw circles on your shoulder, earning soft hums and sighs from you.

He had never felt this happy.

The following morning, you were skipping town again. Jeonghan had woken up with the idea of searching for a town to settle down for a while, and in the meantime, you and him would start planning.

You were returning to the bedroom, draped in a bath towel, your hair damp as you watched Jeonghan grabbing your clothes and his from the night before. He was dressed already, clad in black clothes: jeans, boots, a sleeveless tank top and a zipper hoodie.

Jeonghan approached you to drop a featherlight kiss on your lips. “I’ll go downstairs to return the key,” he informed you. “See you in the parking lot.”

“Yeah, okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes to enjoy the light kisses he left on your face before he stepped back.

“Don’t take too long,” he advised, reluctant to step away from you. So much so that he came back, taking two steps towards you just so he could kiss you quickly, eliciting a joyful laugh out of you.

“Okay, okay, I won’t,” you replied, watching him leave the room finally.

Jeonghan sucked in a breath, shuddering from the cold air receiving him as he went down the stairs. First, he crossed the parking lot in front of the motel, opening the door to his car to leave your bag on the passenger seat. Closing the door, he walked back to the front desk where he rang the buzzer, propping his elbows on the high top and waited.

He felt you before you could even make it to him, drawing a smile on his face when you hugged him from behind. “Go to the car, I’ll be there in a minute,” he mumbled, turning over his shoulder to see your face.

You showed him a playful smile, standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Don’t take too long,” you whispered, turning away to cross the parking lot to where his car was parked.

He rang the buzzer again, tapping his fingers impatiently. He looked around, but no one was to be seen or heard around the place. In fact, it was too quiet for a Friday night in a motel. Something’s not right, he thought, leaning over the desk, only to discover that there were no personal items, nothing to indicate that anyone was working in the place.

He focused his hearing, the noise coming from the ice machine making it harder to find another sign of life around him. But the fact was, there was no one else around. His heart sunk to his stomach.

“Jeonghan?” you called, worry echoing in your voice.

He turned around, facing the parking lot. It was too late. “Run!” Jeonghan bellowed from the opposite side, starting to run towards you as two hunters emerged from the thicket of trees, grabbing you. One of them seized you with his arms, while the other brought his fist to the center of your face, knocking you out on the spot.

He would have been able to reach you, but another hunter got to him first, knocking him to the hard ground, making it impossible for him to fight back, or to stop the hunter from getting his car keys out of his pocket.

So he watched as you were shoved into the trunk of his own car, and the two hunters who had grabbed him got into it and drove away, leaving him with another hunter to fight against. And you, being taken from him. 

› author's note: heyoooooo

this has been such a ride huh. i never expected my short drabble to turn into series but i guess i should've known better lol

stay tuned for more!

!! PART FOUR COMING SOON !!

toodles

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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[stvrgxsm]

long nights, soft days | joel miller [1.2k]

joel comforts reader while she is on her period.

c: references to blood, periods.

beams of late-afternoon sunshine flowed in from the window, bathing the room in a buttery glow.

it wasn’t often that you allowed yourself to sleep in so much, but then again, last night had been… a lot. joel could get insatiable sometimes, and there were usually little to no warning signs. when he did get like that, you slept for far longer than normal.

but this time, when you tried to roll over, all you felt was warmth pooling between your legs. familiar and sticky, you instantly knew what was going on.

unfortunately, the end of the world didn’t mean the end of periods.

you clamped your legs shut and willed yourself to not feel the twinges of pain, both in your core and legs. one was biology. the other was joel.

speaking of joel… the room was empty, but judging by the angle of the sun, he should have been home already. you stilled and listened for a moment. sure enough, pots and pans clanging in the kitchen downstairs alerted you to his presence. 

a dull ache settled over your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning in pain. it didn’t even occur to you that ellie could still be home, or that she would hear you.

so when she burst into the room, you sat up in shock, your muscles cramping again. “woah. lady troubles?” she asked, hands up in a placating gesture.

“no– i mean, yes. can you just– can you help me to the bathroom?”

“yeah, of course. hold on, let me–” she ducked out of the bedroom, and a moment later, you heard her yell, “joel! she’s awake! can you bring up some pain meds?” then she was back, her arm looped under yours and wrapped around your back, supporting most of your weight. the two of you made an odd pair, hobbling to the bathroom.

your period had always been particularly bad. maybe if there were no infected, you would try to seek a diagnosis, but as it was, it hardly seemed important. there were more pressing issues to deal with. 

like your family. you’d been with joel and ellie for a good six months, and nothing felt better than being known by them. ellie had started bringing you the shiny bits of glass she encountered on her outings in jackson, and joel…

well, joel was your partner. in more ways than one. he supported you, he cared about you, and he bandaged your wounds. and he fucked you stupid with increasing frequency, but that’s beside the point. 

you took a seat on the lip of the bathtub and watched ellie gather some things she thought you might need. “do you prefer pads or tampons?”

“either. whatever. which do you have less of?”

she looked at you appraisingly. “i’ll just put both in here.”

“what are you making?”

“it’s a basket of period supply stuff. for you to keep next to you in bed.”

“oh. thank you, that’s– that’s really sweet of you.”

“yeah, of course.” she had to jump to reach the next item– chocolate from the top shelf. “i know how hard these are for you.”

before you could respond, joel had shouldered his way into the master bathroom. his eyes skipped over ellie completely and landed on you. his brow furrowed. “y’okay, hon?”

“she’s on her period.”

“ellie!” he scolded, the southern twang especially obvious in his distress.

“what? it’s true!”

a brief smile flashed across your face, but it was dimmed by another layer of pain settling on top of the first. joel noticed; he always did. 

“c’mon, honey. let’s get you to bed.” he reached for you with both arms, and you thought for a moment he was going to help you walk, like ellie had. but suddenly he was holding you against his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck.

“joel!”

ellie laughed from somewhere behind you.

“what?” he asked innocently.  

then he was laying you down on your bed gently, wincing with you at the change in position. “it’s okay, sweet thing, i’m so sorry.”

“do you have those pain meds?”

his eyes brightened with the reminder, and one of his hands went into his pocket to retrieve a small bottle of white pills. “ibuprofen,” he said, placing two of them into your open palm. 

“thank you.”

“of course.” he looked over the room for a moment, then back at you and the bed. “where’s your water?”

“i don’t– i don’t have any.”

you shrunk into the bed under his withering gaze. “baby. what did i tell you?”

“i have to take care of myself?”

“yes.” he heaved a long-suffering sigh, and you smiled up at him. “i’ll get you a glass. don’t dry-swallow those.”

you nodded, cradling them in your open palms reverently. he disappeared out the door, but you could still hear his footsteps on the stairs and in the kitchen. he had heavy footfalls; part of you thought you would be able to hear him even if he was outside. 

ellie brought the basket into your room. “okay, this has everything you might need. pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, chocolate, my heating pad, the works.” she rolled her eyes. “obviously joel keeps the pain-killers under lock and key. he’s so paranoid.” 

you shared a smile with her, and then she nodded sharply. “okay, i’m leaving. going to make dinner with tommy and maria. i won’t be back until later. will you guys be okay?”

“you know we’re supposed to be the parents here, right?”

but she was already out the door. “whatever,” she called behind her, laughing.

you weren’t alone for long. joel’s footsteps came up the stairs and into your room, and he carried with him a glass of water and a bowl. he set both down on your nightstand. “i made soup for you,” he explained.

“just now?” a smile played on your lips, pulling an eye-roll from him.

“no, silly girl, i was cooking this whole afternoon. while you were sleeping.”

“well, you did keep me up late.”

his brow furrowed. “is that why you’re feeling so bad? i mean i know you’re on your period, but is it made worse by that? i’m so sorry, sweet girl, let me make it up to you.”

he was already kneeling at the edge of the bed before you could even get a word out. “no, no, no, joel, it has nothing to do with that!! really. nothing at all.”

he eyed you warily. 

“i promise! it’s totally unrelated! please, just– can you just–”

“yes, sweet girl?”

fuck. “can you please just lay down with me?” it was almost embarrassing asking joel for anything soft. you knew he wasn’t a particularly gentle man. you were surprised he was even doing this for you.

his entire face softened. “oh, honey.” and then his shoes were off and he was under the covers, curled around you. he tucked his chin into your neck and inhaled deeply. 

you giggled. “what are you doing?”

he was quiet for a moment. “just thinking about you.” his hands came up to your stomach and began rubbing soft circles into the flesh there.

“what about me?”

he didn’t answer, and when you shifted in his arms to look back, his eyes were closed. but his grip tightened, and you allowed him to pull you closer, into his warmth. another smile danced along your lips. 

who needs a heating pad when you have joel miller?

[t1red-twilight]

i’ll be home for christmas

summary: you go home for winter break.

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, height difference (sorry pookie bears)

notes: so hyped for christmas bro

word count: 1k

masterlist s. h. masterlist

the fall semester was finally over; the only thing that had pulled you through the last few weeks that followed midterms and into finals was the promise of knowing you could call steve when you got back to your dorm.

steve and you had designated a time to call every night and discuss (or complain) about how your day had gone. you found that 7pm was the highlight of your day, every day. the velvet of his voice resounded through the phone lines and comforted you when nothing else could. countless times he had encouraged you when you contemplated dropping out.

so now that you were driving home from university for winter break, you could only think of steve. you thad talked to him regularly, this was true; but had he changed in ways that could only be observed visually?

the sun had begun to set over the snow covered landscape. the dim glow of christmas lights provided a nostalgic sense of comfort as you approached your childhood home.

your car pulled into the driveway of your parent’s house, and you put the car in park and turned the engine off. walking around, you grabbed your two suitcases out of the trunk and pulled it shut. just as you were walking up to the front door, you saw him.

steve swung the front door open and called out your name. you dropped your suitcases and ran up to meet him. he threw his arms around you and whispered into your hair, “i missed you so much, honey.”

you smiled from ear to ear, and attempted to pull away to look at him only for him to pull you back closer. “i missed you so so much,” you mumbled into his shoulder. after a few moments, he finally pulled apart from you slightly. he kissed your cheekbone, his thumbs caressed your jaw. you could feel the muscles of his back move beneath his shirt.

steve stepped away to grab your suitcases that still sat abandoned next to your car. “how was the drive?” he asked, holding one suitcase in each hand. the veins popped out on his wrists and knuckles, making you feel some type of way. you’d have to deal with that later.

you waved your hand flippantly. “it was fine,” you brushed it off. “i can grab those.” you tried to grab them from him, but he moved them out of your reach.

he walked around you and to the still-opened front door. “don’t be silly,” he stated matter-of-factly, referencing your luggage. you rolled your eyes. by the time you had gotten inside, steve was already walking up the stairs to put your suitcases away.

you greeted your parents, and they asked you a couple of questions about the semester. you felt steve hover behind you, but he stayed silent. “i think i’m gonna go upstairs and lay down. the drive was pretty long,“ you finished. you turned to look at steve and nodded your head towards your room. you had long passed the stage where your parents policed when he was up there.

you went up the stairs and heard your mom mention something about dinner. you close the door behind steve when you got up to your room. it was laid out the same way as you had left it; the curtains, slightly ajar, and oddly enough an empty can of soda still sat on your nightstand. ew.

borderline face planting on the bed, you finally felt like you could relax. finals were over, and you were finally home. home didn’t just mean hawkins, home had begun to mean a certain boy that your days often looked forward to.

“lay down with me,” you mumbled. “please.” you turned on your side to look at steve. there was a sparkle in his eyes that you would never not love. a crooked smile out upon his face, one that you could never get rid him of. not that you would even try, it had become a hallmark of his playful personality.

thank god your bed was at least made. steve walked around the foot of the bed and laid down on the other side. as soon as you laid down, you scooted over to him, laying your head on his shoulder. as silently as possible, you inhaled his familiar scent. this was one thing that you missed the most about him, he always smelled so comforting.

your eyelids fluttered shut. “did you just smell me?” you bit your lip to keep from laughing. you figured this was a rhetorical question, clearly you weren’t as inconspicuous as you thought you had been.

you wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him as close as you could. you would never not get used to how unbelievably warm he was. in return, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kiss the crown of your head.

the all-too-familiar glow of the neighborhood christmas lights shown in through the gap in your curtains. the lights reflected off of the fallen snow. steve’s thumb traced patterns over the sweater that you wore. “i really missed you,“ he murmured.

you sighed, tension releasing from your body. “maybe i won’t even go back for the spring semester.“ you were joking, but also in a sense serious. not only was academia intensely challenging, but being away from everyone and everything that you knew was extremely difficult. being apart from familiarity was by far the most strenuous aspect of being away at university.

steve kissed your forehead once more. “you don’t mean that. you’re almost done anyway, just one year left.” he paused before continuing, “you totally got this.” you smiled into his shoulder.

you whispered, as if maybe if your parents would hear you they’d reprimand you. “once i graduate we can finally move out of this podunk town and go somewhere new.” you were essentially calling hawkins boring, and the irony was not lost to steve. he snorted a laugh.

the smile could be heard in his tone. “i can’t wait. but, for now, what do you want for christmas?”

[yelenasdiary]

I usually stay up late (right now is 3 am and I still have things to do) programming and doing stuff.

I thought about this fic idea and you popped into my mind.

How about we mostly work in IT for SHIELD/the avengers so we mostly stay with computers or we are in workshops. The thing is we are with yelena and in general we get along with everyone. Lately yelena has noticed that we are more tired than usual, because us being a workaholic person can’t just stop working. One night yelena finds us sleeping on our computer while we were programming/hacking, she tries to gets us to sleep and we try to deny it. Next day yelena has some words with nick fury.

This is probably bad written but right now my brain is not braining sorry

Workaholic

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You’re a workaholic that doesn’t realise how drained you can get. 

Fluff & Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know. | 1.7K

Translations: Detka (baby)

AC: Thank you for sending this! I know it has taken me FOREVER & I do apologise for that. I hope you enjoy this! x

She watched in silence every morning when you would drag yourself out of bed to the kitchen for breakfast before leaving for work and she would watch again when you would finally come home late at night, hair slightly a mess before you’d take a shower and crash almost instantly the minute you sat down on the bed. She didn’t know what was going on at work, but she knew it was draining any energy you had left. 

Anytime she would meet you for lunch or when she would see you for the short period of time before and after work, you were just tired. Conversations were flat and short; you began to work later than usual which led to you going to work earlier than normal.

At first, Yelena just assumed it was something really important that Nick Fury, your boss, needed you to get done but when she found you one night, asleep at your desk, it raised more concern and worry for you.

Yelena sighed lightly to herself as she leant against the doorframe of your office, her brows frowning with concern at the sight of you slumped over your desk, the blue light from the monitors didn’t seem to wake you, your fingers still lightly pressed on the last letters you had pressed before resting your head. Lines of coding ran across the multiple screen system surrounding you, these were things she knew she would never truly understand how they worked. 

“Detka” she said softly, attempting to wake you. You stirred slightly, giving her a light groan but no real signs of opening your tired eyes. “Let me take you home so you can get some real sleep” you heard her Russian accent ever so softly speak. Unintentionally, you groaned once more, this time your eyes flickering open, the brightness of your screen making them sting. 

“I..I’m fine” you mumbled, sitting up straight, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Detka, you can’t keep doing this. What is so important to Fury that has you falling asleep at your desk?” Yelena asked, her brows frowned with worry. 

“I just need like 5 more minutes, I promise” you replied in your groggy state.

“More like another 5 hours” Your girlfriend muttered before she reached for your computer mouse before you could even string together where things were. “I’m not letting you make yourself sick for whatever this is” Yelena added, her voice low but firm, “you need sleep. No more hacking for tonight” she said as you watched the little arrow on your screen close down your opened tabs. 

“Yelena!” You spat, “I can’t! I have too much do to and you just shut it down?!” You added, annoyed by your girlfriends actions as you looked up at her. Yelena shook her head, “if you write another line of coding, you’re going to become the damn coding!” 

“You don’t get it, I need to get this done!” You frowned. 

“And you get do it tomorrow” Your girlfriend said, crossing her arms over her chest. Your eyes dropped slightly, there was no fighting her one this, not even you felt your eyes grow heavy once more. 

“Fine” you sighed, tiredly, “just let me close everything down properly before we go home” you added. 

----

The next morning, you woke up in a panic. The sun light creeping in through the crack of the curtains, you reached for your phone to find out your alarm had been switched off. You sighed before throwing your head back down on the pillow before covering your face with both of your hands. 

Yelena was giving her daggers a sharpen when you asked her why she had turned your alarm off. 

“Because, detka, you needed a real sleep” she said, not batting and eye at you. 

“Yelena, you made me late for work! I don’t even know what to tell Nick when I get there” you argued. 

“I already told him you’d be running late today” Your loving girlfriend replied, looking up at you, “I’m worried about you” she added. One look into her green eyes and you were reminded of the worried look she had on her face late last night when she found you at your desk, asleep. 

“You’re working yourself too hard, you come home and have a re-heated meal then shower and go to bed for a few short hours. Natasha and Wanda both said that you don’t even leave the compound for lunch, not even to get some fresh air. You are consistently at that desk working until early hours of the morning” Yelena said in a soft but firm tone. 

“Baby, it’s my job” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yes, it is but your job isn’t 16 hours a day” 

Your eyes dropped to your feet, “I know, I just….i just want to make sure I’m doing the best I can for Fury. All the coding and hacking I do, it’s not easy. It’s time consuming and I need ot be on top of my game all the time” you explained in hopes it would help Yelena understand. 

“You’re not going to be on top of your game if you’re falling asleep at your desk and barely function outside of work. Detka, I hate to say it, but you’re a workaholic” Yelena replied. You cocked a brow at the blonde, “I am not” you said, making Yelena chuckle. 

“You are detka, a hard, smart working workaholic” she teased, causing you to playful roll your eyes. “Think whatever you want Lena, I’m going to go get ready for work”

“I’m taking you today” Yelena said just before you pushed yourself off the doorframe, “and I’m picking you up at 5pm” she added. 

“Lena, you can trust me to come home at the end of my shift today” 

“I know, but Nat is dragging me in to help her with some training thing so why not carpool?” She replied with a rather proud grin on her lips. You playfully shook your head at her before making your way to the bathroom to get ready for work. 

----

You and Yelena walked into the compound, hand in hand before Yelena placed a soft kiss on your cheek and wished you a good day as you both parted ways, she waited until you were inside the elevator before she turned on her heels and headed towards Nick’s office. 

Nick, busy as usual was sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork beside him. His focus so deep on the document in front of him he didn’t even hear the knock on his door. 

“Fury” Yelena said lightly, her accent coming in thick. 

Nick looked up before leaning back in his chair, “Belova” he acknowledged with a raised eyebrow. 

“I need to talk to you, it’s important” Yelena began, “it’s about Y/n” she added. Fury nodded, “come on, take a seat” he replied. Yelena closed the large wooden door behind her before she took a head on the typical office style chair. “What can I help you with?” The head of S.H.I.E.L.D asked. 

“They’re pushing themselves too hard for whatever it is you have them working on. This is shield, right? Not some tech startup company. They need a break” Yelena said firmly. 

“Right” Nick nodded, “and you think that I’ve been keeping them prisoner to their desk?” He added as he stood up from behind his desk and wandered over to Yelena, taking a the empty chair next to her, “Y/n is one of my hardest working IT employees, they are dedicated to their job, I admire it, I will all my IT employees would put in half the effort Y/n does. This job isn’t easy, there isn’t a real shift time start or end. We may need them at 4am if a mission goes south and they know that” he explains. 

“But they are here early every day, and they leave later than anybody else. You can’t tell me that every mission over the last month has gone to shit” Yelena argued.

“No, but, like I said they are dedicated to their job. Look, I’ll have a look at the clock ins and outs. If Y/n is doing too much unneeded overtime, I will have a word to them but if they aren’t, I’m not going to get in the way of somebody who has a drive to work” 

Yelena sighed lightly, “have you even seen them lately? They are exhausted, last night when they didn’t come home, I came here and found them asleep! At their desk! I’m not asking you to check their clock ins and outs, I am asking you to give them the break they deserve and need” Yelena said firmly, not backing down. “You can go a few days without them here. A few days is worth it then not having them at all” she added. 

Fury remained silent for a moment, contemplating Yelena’s request. He knew Yelena was right; losing a little of something is better than not having it at all. “Okay” he said, finally breaking the silence, “I will speak to them on their lunch break” he added. 

“Thank you” Yelena said, giving him a polite nod. 

“You’re just like your sister, stubborn” Nick muttered with a cocked brow. 

“I am when I need to be” Yelena teasingly grinned. 

----

When 5pm came, you didn’t want to keep Yelena waiting, you shut down your computer and made sure your desk was tidy for tomorrow morning before you wandered the main hall of the compound. You smiled softly when you locked eyes on her leaning against her blue pick-up truck talking to Natasha, Bucky and Sam. 

“What’s the gossip today guys?” You asked with a light chuckle. 

Natasha was the first to turn and smile at you, “hold on a moment, are you unwell?” She asked, jokingly. 

“Ha, Ha, very funny” you replied, playfully rolling your eyes as you stood next to Yelena, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Somebody couldn’t help themselves and spoke to Fury today” you added. 

“Ohhh! Yelena went to the big dogs!” Sam laughed. 

“She did and honestly, thank you” you said, looking up at Yelena. 

“You’re welcome” she smiled softly.

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