#sort of unfair I will have to wait so long for the next movie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peakyblindersxx · 3 years

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May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby masterlist #peaky blinders masterlist #john shelby fluff #john shelby x y/n

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henry-and-the-seven-lords · 3 years

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Hullo! I just read the Ticklish MC headcanons and absolutely loved it! I was wondering, can you do the brothers'/dateables' MC refusing to be within 2 or 3 meters near them for an entire week after they tickled them? Oh, MC left a book in his room? Please place it in front of the door. Nope, MC will not sit next to him at the dining table, who knows what sort of torture they'll force MC to go through! Thank you!!!

Thank you! I am glad you enjoyed it! Sure thing.

This just seems so funny to me, and I am sorry but we got to have a sassy!MC for this one, otherwise I think they would be too nice to enforce it.

I am sorry that some of these are shorter than others. I really tried to make them all the same length, but some of scenarios I thought of were just simpler to explain than others.

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Brothers Reaction to a Ticklish MC Refusing to be Near Them

💙 Lucifer -

He had poked MC 1 too many times while they were sitting on his lap while he was working. So Lucifer lost his lap MC privileges.

"My little Dove, how about you come over here while I work?"

That usually means "Sit on my lap please" but not today. Mc dragged a chair over and sat in front of Lucifer's desk.

He held his arm open for a little too long before looking up.

Cue annoyed eye twitch.

Fine if MC doesn't want his love, he won't give them any.

He tries to ignore MC when they talk as punishment, but that means that they eventually stop sitting in his office which he cannot have.

He kabedons MC in the hallway of House of Lamentations one day.

"I have had enough of being ignored. Come to my office immediately so we can work this out."

💛 Mammon -

MC is done with Mammon's unfair tickle attacks.

"Let's watch a movie MC!"

Ok, but MC is sitting on his single arm chair, not the love seat they usually snuggle on with him.

They have been doing this all week, walking away and ignoring him and Mammon wants it to end.

Mammon pouts and walks over to the arm chair and tries to plop down on them, but they get away and move again.

He keeps pouting and starts asking MC what is wrong.

"You can't just ignore your first man outta no where!"

MC explains that they don't like being tickled all the time.

Mammon understands and promises never to do it again...

But he wants to hear MC laugh and gently brushes their sides making them squeal.

He is going to have to learn the hard way.

🧡 Leviathan -

Leviathan's tickle cheating days are over.

Leviathan sits on a little futon while MC chose to sit in his gaming chair.

He left it alone, because maybe they just think it is comfy, but then he notices that they keep moving away from him whenever he get close.

The whole week they do this whenever the two of them play games.

"You know you don't have to stay here if you don't want to... I can tell that you hate being around me. You won't even get near me!"

This boy forgets about his evil tickles and thinks MC thinks he is a gross Otaku and they just realized it now.

MC then has to reassure him that they do care about him, but they are punishing him.

It is a long back and forth of MC telling Levi it isn't about him as a person, and Levi being sad that MC would punish him in the first place.

"I promise I will stop, just please don't ignore me like that again"

He is crying as he speaks.

MC is also crying.

It is all a very emotional moment.

Instead of tickle cheating. MC now sits in Levi's lap while they play two player games so they can snuggle. (Levi loves this, but is super awkward and embarrassed the whole time)

💚 Satan -

MC doesn't want to play Satan's little game when they always lose!

So when Satan asked them to sit next to him at a Council meeting, MC switched places with Belphie.

Well maybe they just wanted to talk to Beel... but then they keep doing it for every council meeting!

Satan was appalled. How dare MC not oblige his little game?

"I thought you always sit next to me at meetings MC?"

MC then lays it out to him. They don't enjoy being distracted and embarrassed the whole meeting and him just smirking.

He mentions that they could poke him back, but they finally state that he isn't even ticklish so why try.

"Actually I am ticklish. How about to make it fair, you meet me in the library tonight and I will personally show you every place I am ticklish."

MC definitely goes and now the game is really on!

💖 Asmodeus -

Asmo will not give MC a break with the tickle fights, and they are done.

One day Asmo, MC and Mammon are walking through the mall. MC can see by the look in Asmo's eyes, what he is about to do.

He then lunges forward trying to grasp MC in a tickle fight, only to have them step behind Mammon.

For a whole week MC puts someone between them and Asmo and he is starting to get frustrated.

They won't even let him have a hug for goodness sake!

"MC! I need to squish your adorable face!"

He waits out and watches MC go into their room to study by themselves.

He quietly sneaks in before pouncing on them in a hug.

"I get it if you don't want to be tickled, but please stop ignoring me! I would die if you stopped hugging me!"

The pair cuddle to make up for the traumatic week Asmo has endured.

❤ Beelzebub -

Keeps accidently tickling MC and MC has had enough.

This was all really a miscommunication.

MC still keeps some distance from Beel and he follows like a lost puppy.

"What did I do wrong, MC?"

They tell him about how they don't want to be tickled.

"OK. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Beel really just wants to make MC happy so he won't even try to tickle them after that.

💜 Belphegor -

MC just wants a peaceful sleep with out Belphie attacking their sides.

Now when Belphie asks MC to nap with him, MC sleeps in Beels bed and makes him sleep in his own.

He is not happy with no cuddles.

He tries to wait until they go to sleep to sneak up and cuddle them, but they are always awake and get away from him.

This goes on for a week before he speaks up.

"MC, why are you doing this?"

He is very frustrated. MC explains that they are done with his sleeping tickle attacks.

"Well I can't help it if I am asleep."

Then MC says that they will just stop taking naps with him all together and he gives in.

"Okay, okay. I will let you sleep."

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sunflowerharrington · 3 years

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Backseat fun at a drive-in theatre with Max Cooperman <3

(HOT GIF ALERT, I REPEAT)(basically it’s a recreation of this gif xxx)

for my amazing girlie, kasha <3 @unlivingdreams who requested this a while ago and i’m sorry it took so long to get out! a goodbye gift to someone who i will miss so so so much, ily babes and good luck with everything in your future!!

tags: smut, 18+, small bit of degradation, light choking, mommy kink, sub!max, 3rd person pov, drive-in theatre, getting caught, scream is playing bc it’s a classic, and billy is so hot so i just HAD to, y’know? also quick psa: i have not watched never back down so if things are off now you know why x

wc: ~3.4k words

note: hi kash, i know you wanted a sexy makeout and degradation but i got a bit (a lot) carried away… enjoy? i hope there’s no grammatical or spelling errors but if there is i’m sorry in advance!

———

“I thought we agreed to not bother if we’ve only got a little while…”

He groans against her skin and the sound is pure bliss, his brows furrowing, his soft lips pouting slightly, though his eyes maintain that look of sweet innocence. And she’s about to take that innocence away from him. Ever since Kash sat down next to him during lunch break one day in their junior year of highschool, the two of them have been inseparable. They are always holding hands, or his hand in her back pocket as they walk to the classes they take together, or him stealing her hair scrunchies to put on his wrists. Kash and Max are practically joined at the hip. Past his shyness, and his innocent facade he wears like his favourite shirt is an intelligent young man who makes her heart and her pussy clench.

Keeping hands off each other in school, and now college is practically impossible for them, as touch is their love language, after all. Although, Kash eventually figured out that for Max it’s also words of affection.

And it was so unfair when she was stuck in Saturday detention and he got away with it, cause ‘boys will be boys’ but girls can’t even wear a skirt above the knee or even roll their sleeves up to their elbows, but the boys can do whatever the hell they want and not get in trouble… though this time Kash couldn’t keep her hands off him either.

Despite her teasing words, Max knows she shares his sexual frustration. Kash sharing a room with a few other girls in her sorority destroys any sort of privacy she would’ve gotten otherwise, and for good reason they both decided to not go to hook up in his fraternity house either. She never really minded Jake and Eric, but sometimes they got on her fucking nerves.

…So when Kash hears about a rerun of SCREAM coming to the local drive-in theatre, she practically begged Max to drive them both there. One night not studying couldn’t hurt, right?

She wants him so badly, and what better way to get him all alone than at a drive-in watching a rerun of some classic horror movie that everyone knows, not like you have to actually watch it to know what’s going on then. Just background noise. And she wanted him alone, all to herself, for as long as she can remember, thinking about grazing her fingers down his bare chest as he writhes and moans beneath her, although anything before tonight has been over clothing, so she hasn’t even felt what his real touch is like, hasn’t been brought over the edge by his tongue or those perfect, slender fingers…

Now she’s waiting impatiently for the movie to start so it can drown out the melodic whines that will be coming from inside Max’s car, though it wouldn’t be too long to wait for that to start.

Max wraps his arms around her shoulders and daringly pulls her onto his lap, bold move, but so worth it. Instead of sitting with her legs across his, Kash straddles his hips, pressing hers against his. And she can feel him already beginning to grow hot and heavy through the layers of fabric separating them.

“We have the whole length of the movie, babe,” he says, pressing a kiss to her nose, and she smiles, giving him a short and sweet kiss on his forehead.

The sweet moment fades as desire takes over, Kash beginning to pepper a line of wet kisses along his collarbone as he switches off the car light for a little privacy.

“Let’s take this to the backseat?”

Max nods wordlessly, helping Kash into the backseat and they sit back the way they were, now just in a different location. Her lips pepper more soft kisses on his skin, and soon she stops on the dip separating his neck from his chest, darting her tongue out to lick a line up his neck to his ear, grazing her teeth over his skin of his earlobe and making an electric shock shoot through him.

“M-m—”

“Use your words, baby, what do you want me to do?” She asks, encouraging him to touch her by taking his hands in hers and cupping her breasts with them.

Two pulses start thrumming between Kash’s legs and hers travels outwards in waves, and she’s aware of it spreading down to her feet and up her thighs before reverberating further to the tips of her breasts as Max’s hands gently squeeze them, making his pulse between her legs thrums wilder than before. Drums beat behind the skin of her palms and her nipples pebble in her white lace bra. Kash imagines his mouth there too, sucking and teasing and nibbling every inch of her skin.

“I wanna-” His words catch in his throat as she presses down on his shoulders to steady herself as the pulses between her legs increase, almost sending her over the edge and all Max had to do was look at her with those pretty puppy eyes and squeeze her breasts. But she is not about to let that show.

He whines beneath her, the sound more elegant than angels and goddesses, the hierarchies, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to bring her chest down closer to his face. And the other holding her hip.

“What do you wanna do, baby?”

“Kash, I— Uh… S-s- I wanna uh…” He looks away bashfully, a blush spreading across his beautiful cheeks. “Suck on ‘em.”

“My boobs?” She raises an eyebrow, using this opportunity to push her breasts together, watching as his eyes widen. Pure lust and desire for her written all over that pretty face of his.

“M-mhmm… But I won’t if you don’t want me to!” He says, sitting up straight in the seat.

Wordlessly she smiles, pushing his head down so he can do exactly that and his eyes widen, full of a well-known sensation, pure and crystal clear passion, but he’s never gotten further than this with her before. His hands, so unfairly perfect, travel from their place on her hips and neck to the thin straps holding her bra together. He makes quick work of the clasps, movements frantic, pressing himself harder against her. Running his hands over her newly exposed chest after he peels away her bra, his calloused hands from hard work and MMA catching against the soft, sensitive skin of Kash’s breasts and she can’t help the moan that rises from deep inside her, dripping with want. And need.

“Baby…”

His lips finally close around her nipple and she arches her back, pressing her chest further into his face. He takes her other breast in his other hand and twists her nipple between his fingers as he sucks down hard on the one in his mouth. She grips onto the taut muscle of his shoulder, and her other hand cradles the back of his head, combing slowly through his curly locks. Kash’s fingernails dig into Max’s skin as his sucks turn into licks, flicking his tongue against her pebbled nipple, and he groans, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body, his mouth spreading fire across her body. Kash curls her legs around behind him, so she’s hugging his waist with her legs, this new position giving her leverage to tilt her hips closer to his. He’s hard, so hard, and she rubs herself down onto the tent in his boxers, the fabric separating the two of them from feeling the greatest amount of pleasure.

He moans something against her skin, but she can’t quite make it out, and she notices his face flushing a darker rouge than ever before, meaning it must have been something that slipped out by accident. So she asks him to say it again, and she’s shocked and quite pleasantly surprised by what leaves his lips.

“Choke me, Mommy,” he whines, pressing his face further into her breasts, and she feels him smiling against her skin when she curls her fingers around his neck, giving the sides a light squeeze as to not injure him or put him in any kind of danger.

“Harder! Mmph.”

She squeezes a little harder, but not too much, until he grabs a loose hold of her wrist and pulls away, a deep sense of satisfaction blooming in Kash when she hears his ragged breaths. His deep mahogany eyes meet hers, flashing hazel with want, and she presses herself harder against him, moving along with his rhythm. She rests her forehead against his without breaking eye contact and behind the crystal clear desire she can see a timid expression reflecting back at her.

She wraps her arms around his neck and she kisses him. His soft lips brush against hers like a paintbrush to a canvas, and they taste faintly of Kash’s minty chapstick Max ‘borrows’ from her.

The kiss starts off tender, blanketing Kash in a warmth and something more than lust. Max leans back against the seat, and he rests his hands on her ass. Kash’s chest tightens and the forceful beats of two hearts pounding against each other deafens her of any other sounds in the room.

She takes his bottom lip, full, plump and soft from the chapstick, lightly between her teeth and sucks. His other hand cups the back of her head and he tangles his perfect fingers in her hair, giving him leverage to pull her as close to him as physically possible. Her tongue finds his, and she moans against his mouth at the feeling of their tongues dancing around each other.

Kash’s world quickly shrinks to the cradle Max has created for her in his arms, a spark electrifying the air around the two of them and she becomes dizzy from the weight of it, her mind running faster than the speed of sound from the white hot intensity fuelling their kisses to the soft admiration they both have for each other, like a hummingbird zipping through the garden. The nectar is sweet, like the way that Max speaks to her, like the donuts they both had for lunch when they used to skip a few classes in school. Like the blueberry pancakes she made for him and Jake when they got back from some ‘top secret mission’ Max refused to tell Kash about, because they looked exhausted and the only thing she could think of to make them feel better were blueberry pancakes. ‘Cause who doesn’t love ‘em?

Kash’s hands travel across his shoulders, down his chest, catching his nipples between the sides of her fingers and the heat in her stomach grows to the sound of his soft, breathy moans beneath her. Her hands are curious, this… thing Kash is doing with Max right now is still so new, shooting up like palm trees towards the sun. She’s eager to learn what makes him gasp and whether he prefers the soft pads of her skin or the sharp points of her nails mapping out the planes and lines of his body.

Max’s thumbs find the dip of her hip bones and he feels the skin underneath his fingertips bristle. Kash inhales sharply, breaths short, grinning against his lips as he delicately traces the lines of her pelvis, his touch feather light and curious, just like hers. She reciprocates by raking her nails down his bare back, making him squirm underneath her, hips bucking up to meet hers. Max rips his mouth away from hers and attaches it back onto her breast, suckling and licking her nipple as Kash’s eyes fixate on his throbbing, hard cock in his boxers.

She can’t help raising her eyebrow, lips uplifted at the corners, a shameless expression that makes his stomach somersault. “Want help with that, baby?”

He nods, mumbling against her skin, detaching his mouth from her with a pop, and she switches positions so she’s between his legs, leaning down to lick a strip up the underside of his shaft.

There’s barely any room for Kash to sit so they quickly climb back into the passenger side of the car where Kash can kneel down without worrying about hitting her head off the steering wheel.

She’s a vision before him, naked apart from her panties, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination besides a mountain of unholy thoughts in Max’s mind. Max’s fingers nervously twitch at his sides, itching to slam her face down onto his cock and fill her throat up with his seed. Kash notices, and pushes herself back as far away as she can from him, just out of his reach.

“You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you babe?” She teases. “Can’t keep those greedy hands to yourself?”

His mouth runs dry as she looks up at him with her doe eyes, full of innocence and alluring all at the same time because Max knows damn well Kash wants him just as much as he wants her. He thinks lighting himself on fire would feel the same, his blood burning in his veins, with such a heavy, lustful desire that it consumes him completely.

“Momma,” he whines at the loss of contact, his hips betraying him as they thrust up into nothing. “Please.”

A slow, sultry smile appears on the girl’s lips. “I know you call me Mommy but I didn’t take you as the begging type, Maxie.”

“I’m not.”

“And right now?” She asks, running her thumb over his throbbing head through his boxers. “Would you beg for my pussy right now?”

“Yes,” he says, absolutely no hesitation. “Whatever you want. Just…”

Kash raises an eyebrow. “You sure that’s a good idea to give me that much power?”

A smirk etches itself across Kash’s face the moment Max’s next words leave his lips. “Nobody has complete power over me, Kash.”

She’s so composed, kneeling between his aching legs with his cock in her hand, holding it but not moving a muscle. “Is that so?” She watches as his eyes flutter closed in anticipation, the intake of a sharp breath that’s almost a plea. “Maybe we should put your words to the test.”

She looks up at him through thick lashes, her tongue rolling across her plump lips just enough to moisten them. “What do you want, puppy?”

“I—” His mind and body are at war, trying to come up with something for him to say but he can’t think of anything. “Babe, I—”

“Surely someone so in control could use their words? You don’t need me to teach you how to speak again, so you?” Damn, he’s ruined. So fucking ruined. “I’m on my knees in front of you and you can’t think of a single thing you’d like me to do?”

“I want your mouth,” he breathes, sinking deeper into the seat.

“That’s not very specific, now, is it? There’s plenty of things my mouth can do.”

“Like talking, a lot,” he responds.

“Yes, but that’s nowhere near as fun as the other things it can do...” She huffs a laugh as she moves close enough to drag her fingernails down his thighs, goosebumps prickling up on every inch of his body, even places where there physically cannot be any. “Boxers off, now.”

Kash is still staring up at him from her place on the car floor, her full attention doing absolute jack-shit to help the way his hands are trembling. Usually skilled fingers he uses to jerk himself off thinking about her every night have turned completely fucking useless.

“You could make yourself useful and help me out here, you know,” he quips.

“Would you rather I help you with your boxers or make you come down my throat?” Max is too dazed to answer. “You need to think before you speak, puppy. That smart mouth of yours will get you into trouble.”

“I’m already in a lot of it,” he responds, moving to curl his fingers around himself.

Kash catches his wrist and moves it back to his side. “No touching, yourself, or me. Touch me or yourself and I stop... Got it?”

He barely resists the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with her and why she can’t just suck him off right now, can’t she see how desperate he is, how he’s already at the edge and she’s barely touched him.

Instead, he barely manages a nod, clutching onto the sides of the seat. And he waits.

She’s still kneeling on the floor in front of him, but the smug grin is new. He cocks an eyebrow, whether in question or challenge he isn’t too sure, but she ignores it all the same. “How in control are you?” she asks.

“What?”

“No one has complete control over you, right puppy?” She moves so she’s got her elbows on the seat in between his legs and her chin resting in her palm as “Would you be in control if I took these off?” she whispers, skimming a finger along the lace trim of her thong.

His breath feels thick in his throat. “Y-yes.”

Hips buck into the air as she shimmies the garment down her legs. If he was having trouble breathing before, he’s damn near suffocating now as he takes her in again, kneeling bare before him. Her nails graze along her skin—slowly, teasingly—and he watches, hypnotised, as they near her core. A hitched breath, wondering if she is going to touch herself as he watches. A silent prayer the answer is yes.

And it is. Fucking hell, it is.

She repeats her question, “Are you in control now, puppy?” And he doesn’t know the answer. He knows he isn’t, knows the reality doesn’t quite match up with what he wants to say.

“Kasha, I—”

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you, Max Cooperman?”

He groans, his fingers grasping at nothing as they try to dig into anything near him in his car, the way she sounds so authorative when she calls him by his last name. It’s all too much for Max, a fucking sensory overload if you will. The sight of Kash, the mockery and cockiness in her voice as she teases him. Though almost unbearable at that point, he has never felt more alive.

“Y-yes,” he finally chokes out. “I-I mean… Yes, Momma.”

Her eyes lock on his gaze as she says, “Go ahead.”

The first stroke brings Max so much relief he’s certain he’ll black out any minute now. A loud moan comes within the second, the third- god the third had his toes curling against the mat in the car, an all too familiar heat pooling in his stomach, ready to engulf everything in its path. His thighs begin trembling as his pace speeds up, rapidly stroking up and down his cock as his girl watches, calling out her name as someone on-screen screams, masking his whines.

Kash watches as Max comes undone before her, and what a sight for sore eyes, watching as he milks himself, watching the cum drip down his hand and arm. She raises herself, leaning down to brush her lips against his sensitive head before taking him deep in her throat, and it’s not even a second later that—

Tap, tap, tap!

“Oh shit…” Max groans, making Kash look up at the man standing at the window with a stern look on his face, telling them to get dressed and get the fuck outta here.

The man then grumbles and walks away, off into nowhere as it’s too dark to see. For fuck sake, what a mood ruiner! Honestly, absolute cock-block of a man. The audacity of him to—

“Busted, guess we better go,” Kash adds after releasing Max’s cock from her mouth, and they both quickly dress themselves, taking the hint from the man. Maybe staying over the clothes is a better idea after all?

taglist: @unlivingdreams @xxlangdon @sympathyforher <3

#never back down #max cooperman #max cooperman smut #never back down smut #just had some fun with it #got a bit (a lot) carried away #he’s such a cutie right?#evan peters

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

Text

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle.

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them.

Or… begging him to take them out on a date.

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life.

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it?

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness.

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her.

She did everything he asked.

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much.

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt.

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night.

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter.

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever.

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him.

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand.

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful.

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that.

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex.

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly.

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices.

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit.

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking.

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul.

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial.

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive.

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface.

But there was still hope.

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him.

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious.

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk.

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso.

“But, you know what I find even funnier?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning.

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!”

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed.

“Is how much of an idiot I am.”

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt.

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.”

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him.

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths.

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk.

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.”

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties.

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.”

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her.

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs.

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin.

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this.

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did.

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…”

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out.

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way.

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned.

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling.

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead.

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it.

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath.

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat.

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal.

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth.

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.”

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips.

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was.

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change.

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met.

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips.

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…”

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him.

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…”

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo.

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo.

It was Bakugo.

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship.

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden.

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips.

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~”

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.”

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind.

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace.

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…”

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face.

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes.

“You’re so fucking adorable…”

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth.

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform.

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.”

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands.

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie.

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together.

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of.

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones.

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily.

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders.

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close.

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal.

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure.

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside.

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton.

He needed to change that.

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth.

“Don’t move.”

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat.

“Just… trust me.”

She didn’t.

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal.

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth.

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky.

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?”

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft.

“I’m joking…”

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his.

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.”

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body.

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

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justoneofthoseghosts · 2 years

Note

Brettsey + "You're saying this Mr. Darcy is your fantasy?"

"You're saying this Mr. Darcy is your fantasy?" Matt asks a bit dubiously raising an eyebrow at Sylvie.

They were having a quiet movie night in. It began raining in Portland that morning and while they were supposed to go for a hike with Ben and Griffin, the weather had not been optimal so they had to cancel their plans. Both boys were at a friend's house for a sleepover so Sylvie and Matt had the house to themselves for the first time since Sylvie came to visit last month.

Matt agreed to let Sylvie pick out the movie, thinking she would pick out one of her comfort films or a romantic comedy he didn't need to really follow the plot to get the gist of the movie but she surprised him by selecting Pride and Prejudice.

He found Mr. Darcy to be brooding and somewhat awkward, unsure of what Sylvie saw in the character.

"It's kind of hard to explain," Sylvie sighs, getting a dreamy look on her face, "he's just, you know."

Matt snorts loudly, wanting to retort that he did not know but he manages to hold it in. He really could not get it. Also, what did this Mr. Darcy have that he didn't?

Okay, maybe he was feeling this twinge of jealousy even though that was a tad ridiculous because for one, he wasn't real and he knew he had nothing to worry about unless, Fitzwilliam decided to leap out of the TV and ask for Sylvie's hand in marriage.

Marriage, he thinks in awe suddenly, glancing over at Sylvie, who had her eyes glued to the TV again. It would be too soon to think about that, right?

He looks at his girlfriend furtively. They still had two and a half years to go until he could move back to Chicago and any attempt to propose during that time was just unfair to Sylvie.

But somehow, he could not let go of the thought and he spends the rest of the movie thinking about it. He knew he wanted to get married to Sylvie - she was an incredible, caring, utterly wonderful person and every day he thanked his lucky stars that she loved him too. He imagines buying a house in Chicago. A fixer upper perhaps that they could renovate together knowing that it would delight Sylvie, one that had a big yard where their kids could run around in during summer and a neighborhood park nearby where they could play or build snowmen during winter.

He smiles. It sounded like something to look forward to and something he could hold onto for the next few years while they continued to be in a long distance relationship. Maybe he'd look for a couple of rings? There was no harm in being prepared.

Sylvie curls further into his side and he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer and dropping a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"He reminds me a bit of you," Sylvie whispers.

"What?" Matt asks, not quite getting it.

"Mr. Darcy - he reminds me a bit of you," she clarifies.

Wait, was he brooding and somewhat awkward too? Matt doesn't know if he was flattered or offended so he chooses the former.

"Yeah?"

Sylvie nods before smirking, "Yep, except maybe don't try to do a British accent. We both know you're not very good at them."

She scrunches up her nose playfully, as if remembering the last time they played Heads Up and she forced him into trying out an Australian accent, which Matt thought was not half bad. Well, at least to him.

"You're a really mean person. You know that, right?" Matt teases.

Sylvie grins, "yeah, of course I do but you still love me anyway."

Matt matches her grin. He did love her very much and he can't wait for years of this sort of banter - to more nights spent on the couch watching movies, making fun of each other, maybe trying out some new accents to annoy Sylvie or make her laugh if she was having a bad day, a lot more small moments where they could just sit and cuddle, draw comfort from each other during tougher times.

Yeah, he was looking forward to everything with her, all the ups and downs and he can hardly wait.

#brettsey #fanfic prompt #yet again went in a different direction #but it's all fluff

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inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

just this once

character: sawamura daichi

genre: smut

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), praise kink, manipulation, size kink if u squint, dacryphilia

words: 4k

synopsis:

And, being as stubborn as he is, it takes him a few months to finally admit to himself that his feelings toward you are more than platonic. It’s a horrifying realization—one that has his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach and bile rising in the back of his throat—that hits him with the force of a fucking freight train one night when he catches you in the hallway wearing nothing but a skimpy little tank top and a cute pair of lace-trimmed panties, and his first thought is how badly he wants to slam you against the wall and fuck you stupid.

Daichi isn’t sure what he did to deserve such a beautiful punishment, but you are the most gorgeous creature he has ever seen.

And you’re entirely off-limits.

He has to admit, he was fairly excited when he found out about the engagement, eagerly awaiting the day that you’d be moving in with your mom. He enjoys being a big brother to his blood siblings, but they’re so much younger than he is, and he can’t wait to have a sibling closer to his age.

But, Christ, he doesn’t expect you to be so fucking pretty.

It’s unfair, really. The gods must be mocking him, because forcing him to live with a cute little thing like you is downright cruel, as far as he’s convinced.

You have him wrapped around your pinky finger the moment your eyes meet. Just one look—a soft, shy gaze through your thick eyelashes as you introduce yourself—and he’s sure he’d do anything for you, pull the moon out of the goddamn sky for you, if you so desired.

And there’s nothing wrong with that, right? Big brothers are supposed to be doting and protective of their younger sisters, aren’t they?

He’s thrilled to hear that you’re just as excited as he is to be step-siblings, to have a niichan, being an only child yourself. The two of you get along instantly, staying up until the early hours of the morning planning all of the things you want to do together, all of the things you weren’t able to experience before, all of the things he’ll teach you.

You fall into such a natural routine so quickly, Daichi can barely remember what life was like without you—what were his mornings like before, when he didn’t have to drop you off at university? What did he used to do with his nights, before you two had developed the regular habit of binging old sitcoms and shitty rom-coms and horror movies?

And he’s sure you don’t mean it…he’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing when you curl up next to him on the couch after a stressful day, nestling into his side perfectly, resting your head on his chest as you sulk about school, or professors, or assignments, or anything, really. You know you can come to him with whatever problem your having—he’s told you a thousand times.

He’s sure you don’t think anything of the way his fingers comb through your hair as you complain, the way he’ll occasionally press gentle kisses against your scalp, the way he automatically lets you crawl into his lap when the day’s been really bad, thighs straddling his hips as you collapse heavily against him, nuzzling your face into his skin.

Of course you don’t. Why should you?

And he knows he should feel awful—does feel awful—that these are kind of his favourite days, because he gets to put his hands on you, feel you relax into him as you mumble against his neck or shoulder, feels adulterous pride swell in his chest when you sleepily admit that he always makes you feel so much better, that no one else is able to cheer you up the way he is.

It’s torture in the most delicious way, even if it sometimes hurts to watch you lean against the counter and stare up at his best friend with stars in your eyes, giggling softly as Suga pays you compliment after compliment. So it makes his chest and throat burn with the sting of jealousy a little—that’s normal, right? He’s just being a little protective, is he not? He just doesn’t want to see you get hurt, alright?

The thought feels like it comes out of nowhere, making him audibly gasp, as he tries to fool himself into thinking that he hasn’t been forcing back such lewd thoughts since the day he met you.

But that thought finally snaps open the floodgates in his mind, rendering him instantly powerless to the explicit and obscene scenarios that flash through his brain without his permission, eyes glued to your ass as you walk away.

Except then you stop, turning back to look at him still frozen in the hallway, cocking your head to the side and uttering a soft, “Dai-nii?”

“M’fine,” he says roughly, his voice not his own. You frown—you can see right through him. You’re walking towards him, and he wants to tell you to stop, he wants to turn away and hurry into his own room, but his feet are bolted to the floor, gaze captivated by the teasing cleavage that tiny tank top affords him.

He wants to believe that the way your eyes, glossy and half-lidded, slowly rake over his bare chest and land on the tent in his flannel pj pants, is entirely innocent. He desperately wants to believe this.

But the way your lips part with a quiet gasp that fades into the softest whimper, tells him otherwise. Your eyes slowly meet his, breathing a little laboured.

“I…” you begin, frowning a little as your eyebrows knit, as if you’re unsure how to express this thought. “Do you want—”

“No,” he says instantly, finally regaining control over his traitorous body and taking a large step back from you. He doesn’t want to know what you were going to ask, doesn’t even allow himself a second to think about all of the possibilities. “Go to bed, sweetheart,”

Then he’s gone, walking hastily down the hallway and disappearing into his room. And you’re left standing in alone, confused as to why there’s heat pooling between your thighs and why your chest stings so bad from his vague denial.

Such thoughts don’t stop after that night—he can’t help the way his cock twitches in his jeans when you lick honey from your thumb innocently, his mind automatically wondering what those lips would feel like wrapped around him; or the way he wants to pin you down and fuck you until your crying when you look up at him with those pretty, pretty eyes, the ones you use when you’re asking him for something.

It’s okay, he reasons with himself, even though he feels like he’s being torn apart at his very seams by guilt and lust. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t act on them, right?

Your happiness is more important than his anyway. Any good niichan would know that, would value their siblings’ feelings over their own.

Because the way your eyes light up when you talk to him about something you love, the way you’re always so excited to tell him about a new development in your life—whether it be a good grade, or a new crush, or something you and your best friend did over the weekend—and the way you cherish his opinions so much…

Those moments mean more to him than anything else, and he’d never want to do anything to lose your trust in him, your unwavering faith that simultaneously warms his chest and makes his stomach churn.

Yes, he’s positive he’d do absolutely anything for you.

So when some stupid boy breaks your heart, has you hesitantly knocking on his bedroom door at three in the morning with your arms wrapped unsurely around yourself as you try to stifle your soft little sobs—well.

He’s ready to go out and beat that motherfucker to death for even causing you to shed a single tear.

In fact, you find yourself having to talk him out of it in that very moment, little fingers curling in the coat he’s in the middle of shrugging on, tugging and hastily asking if you can spend the night with him instead.

And he should say no. No matter how hurt you are, no matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms and wipe your tears and make it all better, it’s wrong.

Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. More than anything, in reality, he just doesn’t trust himself. It doesn’t matter that it’s wrong.

But, goddamn it, he can’t say no to you.

And you know. He knows you know, can see it in the way your eyelids flutter a little as you gaze at him through your lashes, glistening with unshed tears, can see it in the way you squeeze your arms around yourself just a hint more, pushing your breasts up, can hear it in the way you whimper out, “Please, Dai-nii?”

And despite the fact that he knows, and that he should probably be furious at you for exploiting his weakness, manipulating him and turning him into putty in your soft little hands—he can’t.

Because he loves it just as much, because even if you didn’t know, he’d still never be able to refuse you. And he hates himself for it, blames himself for it, would still never even think to blame it on you. You’re his perfect little angel, anyway, aren’t you? Actually, now that he thinks about it, there is a chance you might not even know what you’re doing, isn’t there? You’re just so upset right now, clearly not in any sort of stable mindset, he tries to reason with himself, tries to alleviate even just the tiniest hint of the guilt crushing his chest as he caves, nodding and opening the door wider, inviting you in.

He can’t stand the way your voice gets all tiny and frail when you ask again if he’s going to stay with you as he tucks you into his bed, almost as if you’re afraid of the rejection. How can he say no, when your fingers are tangling in his t-shirt and pulling him closer, pleading softly with him.

How can he say no, when you tell him that you feel better simply being in his presence, looking as though you’re about to burst into tears all over again when he hesitates answering.

“Of course, baby,” he says softly. “Of course I’ll stay,”

He tells himself it’s fine as he crawls into his bed next to you, allowing you to latch onto him immediately, fingers tracing patterns on his chest. He promises himself just this once, just because you’re broken-hearted and he doesn’t want to upset you more, wouldn’t be able to handle the look of hurt on your face if he denied you.

But you’re nuzzling your face against his chest, crying softly and begging him to just make it go away already, make the hurt stop even if it’s just for a little bit.

And, God, what he’d give to just take it all away from you, to cradle your face between his big hands and kiss you until you’re breathless, to make you cum until your mind’s numb, until you literally can’t think of anything but him, until your throat’s sore and you’re about to pass out from exhaustion—

No. No, this is wrong. It’s wrong to take advantage of you in such an emotional, vulnerable state.

Except then you’re grinding against his strong thigh, wedged between your legs, and making these cute little noises, soft whimpers of Dai-nii and tiny gasps that get caught in your throat.

He wants to tell you to stop, opens his mouth to firmly order that you cease these actions, but all he can seem to force out is a soft groan, tongue turning to sand in his mouth.

Because—well, your sobs have stopped, haven’t they? There are no longer tears leaking from your eyes or little sniffles hitching in your throat, right? What if this really is what you need, a good orgasm to help you forget, to help you sleep?

He makes a mental deal with himself, manages to talk himself into it, deciding to indulge himself just a little, just for tonight, just enough to satisfy the desire blazing in the pit of his stomach.

Large hands settle on your hips, aiding you in moving against him.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks, voice husky, words leaving his lips without his permission.

You nod, humming a little and nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“Tell me,” he commands softly.

“F-Feels good, niichan,” you breathe.

“Yeah? Think you can cum from just riding my thigh, babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Show me,” he whispers. “I bet you look so pretty when you cum, don’t you? Let niichan see,”

Your hips pick up speed, broken whines falling from your lips as you aggressively grind your cunt against him.

He should tell you to keep it down or slap a hand over your mouth and muffle the noises with his palm. Really, he should. You’re loud, probably too loud, and he’d be surprised if your parents can’t hear you though the thin walls, just a room over.

But he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t force the words out or move his arm at all, greedily enticed by your sweet sounds—sweet little sounds your making for him, because of him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, pressing his thigh up into your dripping core more, flexing the strong muscles and making you cry out softly. “Make a mess all over niichan’s thigh, come on,”

And then your gasping out his name, breath hot against his neck, hips stuttering as you gush all over him, a pleasant warmth spreading across his thigh, seeping through the flannel and making the material stick to his skin as you try to squeeze your legs together, whole body curling into his chest.

He forces you to keep moving your hips through your orgasm until your body is jolting and trembling from every drag of your sensitive clit against his hard muscles, until your whimpering for him to stop, it’s too much! and going boneless against him.

A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest, gentle fingers combing through your hair as he hushes you, satisfied that you seem tuckered out and telling you to sleep now, princess, before pressing soft kisses to your head.

Just this once, he vows to himself as your breathing evens out, eyes slipping shut. Just this once—he got a taste now, got to see how pretty you look when you cum, got to hear you moan out his name, and that’s enough. That should be enough to satiate the voracious lust that curls in his stomach and rises in his throat every time he sees you.

Except it isn’t.

He’s terrible, awful, should feel so fucking ashamed of himself when you show up outside his door only a few nights later, shyly asking if you can ride him again and he has to restrain himself from jumping you right there.

“But, um,” you whisper, eyes darting to his and then away, fingers twisting together in front of your body. “N-Not your thigh this time?”

He can barely comprehend the words spilling out of your mouth, stares at you with those wide, warm, sweet eyes, breath coming out in short huffs through his slightly parted lips.

“You—What?”

A frown graces your lips, anxiety from the potential rejection beginning to build in your chest. “I want to ride your cock,” you whimper, eyes finding his again. Your heart is pounding, slamming against your ribcage, those six little words hanging in the air between the two of you.

He makes a soft, hurt little sound in the back of his throat, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker.

“We—” he stops to clear his throat, attempting to rid his voice of huskiness. “We shouldn’t,” he aims for stern, but his voice only sounds strangled, and the way you’re staring at him with those eyes makes his entire body feel like it’s just been set aflame.

“I-I know but I—” a little hiccup cuts you off, vision blurring with tears. “I just c-cant stop thinking about how good you’d feel, how full you’d make me, all stretched out and—”

No, he wants to scream. Not the tears, anything but the tears.

“—Please, Dai-nii?” you sniff a little, gleaming eyes pleading with him, bottom lip pushed out into a pout. “Ju-Just this once? I just—just wanna—” a choked sob cuts you off, and you rub at your eyes with your fists, chest beginning to stutter.

And he breaks.

“Oh baby,” he’s cooing, wrapping strong arms around you and holding you to his chest tightly. “Shh, quiet honey,” he’s hushing you as he sits on the edge of his bed, pulling you to straddle his lap. “Niichan will let you ride his cock if that’s what you want, sweetheart,” he says softly, brushing your hair away from your face. “Okay? You want that? Will it make my little girl feel better?”

“Y-Yes, Dai-nii,”

“Alright, stop crying, pretty girl,” tender thumbs swipe across your cheekbones, catching stray tears and wiping them away.

His heart feels like its shattering in his chest, and he hates seeing you so upset, pressing your lips together and trying to swallow your pathetic little sobs, but he can’t lie—you begging to ride his cock, wanting it so bad that you’re crying for it, has his brain hazy with lust, clouding his judgement as blood rushes south. His mouth is dry, cock throbbing impatiently as he helps you out of your cute little pj shorts, unable to stop the involuntary sharp inhale of breath when he finally sees your pretty little pussy, unable to help the soft noise that gets caught at the back of his throat as you tug a little at the waistband of his pants, looking at him through your lashes as you free his aching cock.

And then he has you whimpering as he pushes into your tight cunt, praising you as you stretch around him. Really, he should’ve taken the time to prep you properly, should’ve scolded you and been firm with you when you got a little bratty, refusing his fingers and whining that you want his cock now.

“Look at how good my little girl is,” he breathes out, leaning back from you while large hands steady your hips, eyes focused on his cock as it slowly slides in. “My precious baby, taking my cock so well,”

“Y-Yeah?” you ask in a tiny voice, looking at him in near desperation, needing to hear the praise again. “Hurts a little, niichan,”

“You can do it, baby,” his fingers flex on your waist, never slowing as he forces you down onto him, his hips pressing up to meet yours halfway.

His cock is thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and it burns a little as he finally bottoms out, tiny hole fluttering as it tries to accommodate him.

“See,” he pants. “You took the whole thing,”

“I-I swear I can feel you in my tummy, Dai-nii,”

“Christ,” he nearly whines, shutting his eyes tightly as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. He breathes out hard through his nose, gathering up every ounce of his self control as he begins to gently rock your hips against his, teeth clenching while he tries not to buck wildly into you.

You whimper a little; it still hurts a bit, but it’s beginning to fade, Daichi whispering gentle praises, breath hot against the shell of your ear as you bury your face in his neck.

“I know it hurts right now, baby,” he breathes out, still steadily rocking you on his lap. “But niichan’s gonna make it feel so good, okay?”

And he does. He lets you grind against him, hips moving in little circular motions, forces not one but two orgasms out of you as tender fingers slip between your bodies to rub at your clit while you bounce shallowly.

It’s fucking torture for him, to feel you cream on his cock like that, tight little pussy clenching around him as you cry out breathless little ‘Dai-nii’s.

“S’it,” he praises hoarsely, thighs trembling from the effort of restraint. “Niichan’s gonna fuck you now, okay sweetheart?”

He keeps you on his lap, since you were so adamant about riding him, but holds your hips still as he begins fucking up into you. He starts off slow, letting you get used to the deep thrusts, cockhead nudging your cervix every time, but it isn’t long before his restraint completely snaps, unable to hold back any longer and begins ramming into you.

He tells you you’re so good, that you look so pretty as you take his cock, tears rolling down your cheeks and quiet grunts sounding from deep in his chest.

You whimper when he cums, begging him to fill you up, have him shuddering out a breathy, “Fuck,” as his hips still, cock pressed tightly against your cervix as it throbs.

And just like that, just this once turns into only a few times, and grinding against his thigh turns into his cock buried inside of you, his tongue shoved down your throat, your moans muffled by big palms.

And you love it. You love the way his chestnut eyes darken as you sink down on his cock, the way his voice drops so low it makes your stomach swoop, the way his entire demeanor—the air around him, his very aura—changes the moment you begin acting like a brat.

It’s exhilarating, intoxicating, addicting. You love the groans that fall from his lips when you tell him no one has ever—no one can ever—fuck you as good as he does. You love the way he loses himself in it, hips slamming into you hard enough to jostle your entire body up the bed, the way he leaves bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips, your thighs, your ass.

And although the guilt eats him alive—erodes his insides, rots him to his very core—he can’t stop.

He should put a stop to it. He wishes he were strong enough to put a stop to it.

He should, he should, he should.

He should do a lot of things.

But he won’t.

Because he’s too selfish, too greedy, to give you up. He’ll bear the sins and suffer the consequences if he just gets to call you his, if he just gets to hear you cry out his name into his palm as he rams his cock into you with a hand slapped tightly over your mouth, if he just gets to fill you up with his cum every night.

He feels disgusted in himself, disgusted in his pathetically weak resolve that you know how to break with just a look and a soft niichan, disgusted by how much he fucking loves every second of it. But he’d do anything for you, just like any good niichan would, right?

#i want daichi to literally destroy me #:(#please just fucking wreck me sir #anyway he's so sweet in this i hope y'all feel bad for doing him like this!!!#poor dai-nii :(#he's just tryna be a good niichan ffs #tw pseudo-incest #tw manipulation #tw dacryphilia

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taeilskitty · 3 years

Note

Hii

I noticed your request is open

I'd like to request celibate doyoung smut with arranged marriage au!

Would appreciate it if you could add a lot of nipple play!

Thanks!

Thank you so much for the request!! I really enjoyed writing this so I hope it was good enough. Enjoy love <33

You hadn’t known Doyoung for long.

He was nice enough, he was respectful and pretty funny, good company too. It wasn’t such an issue that you were going to have to be together for, well, ever.

Forever is a long time. In all honesty you’d always dreaded your wedding day because you knew there was no chance of marrying someone you actually loved; that’s a fantasy you knew you’d just have to live out in your next life. But the first time you were introduced to your future husband, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you could make the most of it.

You weren’t best friends by any means, let alone lovers, but at least you were on the same boat. Both living with parents who had a plan since before you were even born, a prophecy they’d already written out for you. Whatever.

Maybe the knowledge of your fate was the reason for it, but you were never overly concerned with love. Of course you wanted it, but you’d learned to be your own person too. And that was great. Doyoung had once admitted that he was relieved about that; “I was worried you’d be disappointed,” he’d told you, “because I can’t do… any of that.”

It sort of warmed your heart. He was fairly open with you, and for that reason was sure not to cross any of your boundaries. You liked that about him. You could certainly get used to seeing his face everyday. And honestly it helped that he was… really fucking hot.

Your wedding was actually really nice, what with all things considered. You made the most of the celebrations and he seemed really calm as opposed to you who was frankly scared shitless. His family liked you, your family liked him, and most importantly you liked each other - or at the very least you tolerated each other.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you laughed once it was all over. “Thank you for making the day a little less scary.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N. Honestly.”

You smiled at Doyoung and looked back out across the moonlit sky. It was proving to be an emotional night, a surreal one at that.

“Before we met I was scared you’d be some creep, like, a total weirdo.”

“You seriously think your parents would let someone treat their kid like shit?” Now he was the one laughing; you both knew your parents were a lot of things, but they’d never want to see you get hurt.

“Okay, fair,” you agreed, and turned back to face him. “I’m surprised they didn’t dump me with someone crazy ugly though.”

Doyoung smirked. “Oh?” His eyes darted away momentarily. “So you do like me. Huh.”

Something told you he was only half kidding, but the giddiness in your gut made you wonder if this was the feeling all the blockbuster romance movies tried to convey. You weren’t in love. But you sure were glad it was him next to you right then.

“Don’t get so cocky.” He gasped sarcastically in response to your playful rejection. “I’ll put up with you.”

“I give it a week before you’re head over heels in love with me.”

Standing up, he looked back sort of expectantly.

“You wish. I think you just want me to be in love with you.”

“You’re married to me,” Doyoung scoffed. “C’mon. Let’s head inside.”

You stood up and looked at him for a moment. He still had that glint in his eye that suggests something isn’t quite right, like he’s waiting for something.

His beauty is… almost unfair. There’s no way your parents’ taste in men was this good, especially when picking some guy out for you. It made no sense - how was he so attractive? You knew it wasn’t just the light because, let’s face it, anyone can see how hot he is.

You sighed, and you shook your head when he asked if something’s wrong.

Doyoung placed a hand on your shoulder. He seemed far more nervous than he did before, particularly when you stepped in just a little closer. He could practically feel your breath mixing with his; your lips almost brushing against each other.

“What?” You ask when he breaks eye contact. “Never kissed anyone before?”

“Actually, no…” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I wanted to wait till I was married. It just feels weird that now I am…”

You weren’t sure why this shocked you, but it kind of made sense. Of course he’d waited, he was so angelic. Not even necessarily innocent by any means, and honestly it wouldn’t have bothered you if he’d slept with 1 or 100 people before. But somehow this made him… cuter?

You vowed not to laugh. You wanted to, not because it was funny or anything, but because it was just kind of endearing. You smiled at him.

“That’s okay, I’m no expert at it.”

Doyoung was silent for a second, but he looked back down at you with confidence in his eyes.

“My parents made a good choice with you.”

The space between your lips finally closed.

Despite having no experience, Doyoung knew how to draw whines out of you and kiss you in a way that sent butterflies to your stomach. He tugged on your bottom lip and held you with just enough force to make you feel the perfect amount of helplessness. It came naturally. The kissing, the touching, the clothes coming off. He even took the time to admire your body. How the fuck did he get so perfect?

“You’re really gorgeous, Y/N…” he muttered against the skin of your neck, your hands wandering into his hair. “I’m so glad we found each other.”

“Mmh-” A gentle moan escaped you when he grazed his teeth over your sweet spot. “You’re - you’re so hot.”

Doyoung chuckled a little bit and lay back on your now-shared bed. You’d clambered on top of him nervously, adrenaline coursing through your body, excitement chasing after it. He couldn’t hide how hard he was, not in those boxers - and there was no way you could ignore how big his cock felt strained against you.

“I - are you okay with this?” He asked, pulling away for a moment. The look in his eyes was sincere.

You nod. “God yes.”

That’s when he pulls you back into the depths of his kisses and hisses when your hand tugs at his boxers. He’d waited so long for this moment, and it was happening with someone he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to marry. The pair of you were nervous of course, but the mutual understanding you had was enough. The fact that Doyoung had already asked if you were comfortable made you want him even more for some reason.

“Ride me,” he breathed. “Please.”

Doyoung’s cock felt so fucking good. It stretched you perfectly, which hurt a little more than you’d like to admit but the feeling of him inside you just felt… wow. He threw his head back as you moved on him slowly.

“God, fuck, keep doing that baby,” he moaned.

Baby. The pet name sounded incredible coming from him.

“Yes sir,” You mocked, but the way he cursed under his breath when you said that told you he was into it. “Oh you want me to call you that, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” He was blushing just a little, and brought your lips to his again. “Don’t try and tease me, I can’t take it. Not this time. Seriously.”

Something in Doyoung’s voice sounded desperate. You wanted to taunt him so badly, but despite the fact that he’d never done this before, it made you wince with pleasure to think of all the things he could do to you when you get more comfortable with sex. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed up and down your collarbones, bucking his hips up into you. He mentioned how tight you were, how good you felt around his cock and how bad he wanted to cum in you. The rasp in his voice sent you reeling, and you tried to reply but when he took your nipple into his mouth you almost started crying with pleasure.

“F-fuck!!”

It was one of the most incredible sensations, his tongue lolling around the bud paired with his cock deep inside you. The way his teeth nipped against the sensitive skin was enough to make you both cum. You felt… amazing. Clenching around his cock, you dug your nails into his back and whined far louder than you intended; a hand began to play with your other hardened bud and sent your mind into oblivion.

“So good…” He moaned, kissing along the width of your chest to switch sides. The sudden cold air against your spit-sodden nipple made you shudder but the coolness was a part of what made it feel so much better. Doyoung’s tongue flicked and played with you to an unconscious rhythm played by the fingers opposite, not at all in tune with his hips now snapping against you but fuck it felt good. He sort of whimpered, not in a submissive way but in a way that sounded overwhelmed with pleasure. He was clearly enjoying what he was doing, his cock buried in your hole and his mouth on your chest; it was like he’d dreamt of this moment. He’d never admit that he had, not yet anyway, but the anticipation leading up to him finally getting to fuck was a lot for him. As for you… you were no stranger to fantasising. You’d wanted sex for a long time. It felt so much better than you could have hoped; it sure helped that Doyoung actually took the time to focus on how you felt too, but really you were perfectly happy grinding on his huge cock alone.

It slowly built up. The friction was unbearably good. The sensation of his mouth against your chest, his hand gripping your waist for dear life, his cock sliding in and out of you -

“Fuck, fuck--”

You came, hard, clenching and panting and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you did so. “That’s it,” Doyoung breathed, “cum for me baby.”

You rode your orgasm out on him and tried so hard not to let your entire body jerk with each thrust he made after you came, until finally he followed suit. He moaned into your skin and god, he sounded perfect. The noises that came from the man’s mouth were nothing short of beautiful. This was heaven, or at the very least Earth’s closest replica to it.

“Ah,” he panted, still inside you, allowing the both of you to come down from your high. “Thank you, love…”

“No, thank you,” you laughed. “That - I didn’t think it would feel so good.”

The smug look on his face was pretty hard for him to hide. “Hah. Well. Me neither, to be honest.”

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes once more and you just felt so comfortable. A kiss came so naturally once again, and you realised that maybe, just maybe, spending the foreseeable future together wouldn’t be so bad.

You hadn’t known Doyoung for long.

But it would be a lie if you said you couldn’t see yourself falling for him.

#eeeek im nervous to post this idk why #i hope you like it <3 #anon #req #doyoung smut #doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #nct smut #nct au #nct ff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 ff #kpop smut

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years

Text

Rain Check

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2860

Warnings: Lots of sexual tension and pining and ~heated glances~ or whatever but no actual sexy times. Author plays fast and loose with the canonical details of Spencer’s teaching sabbatical, as well as the logistics of grad school. There’s a teacher-student thing going on, but no weird age gap or whatever. Excessive objectification of Spencer’s hands, because really, what else do you expect from me?

A/N: For the “mutual pining” square on my @cmbingo card!

You trail off. Spencer’s staring like he’s waiting for you to say something else, even though you’ve been rambling for a while now.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

“For what?”

“You probably didn’t need to know all of that.”

He blinks, shaking his head with a quiet laugh.

Something about him makes you want to open up; it’s been almost an hour of nonstop conversation, and you haven’t told him what you’re studying or even where you’re studying, but you feel like you’ve known him for years. You’ve talked about your favorite books and assorted high school traumas. He keeps insisting he’s not good at small talk anyway.

“I really like listening to you talk,” he says, soft and sweet. “I just… I like watching you talk, too. I noticed your eyelashes and — and I got distracted.”

Your cheeks feel hot, suddenly. You know the feeling.

“Oh,” you manage.

There’s something about his hands; they’re just very fucking distracting, and every time he tucks his hair behind his ears, you lose your train of thought. It doesn’t help that he keeps absently-mindedly twirling a pen as he talks, long dexterous fingers moving with precise little movements, and — yeah. Distracting is putting it mildly. There’s this constant low flicker of want in your gut.

“It’s been a long time since I enjoyed myself this much in a bar,” he admits, with a self-conscious little half-smile.

“Me too.”

Probably helps you’re not actually inside the bar. You’re tucked in the corner of the deck, leaning on the railing, and even though it’s crowded, you’ve barely noticed your surroundings. Every time you look at him, the rest of the world feels distant, like one of those perfect movie moments where the crowd parts and the hero and heroine walk toward each other in slow motion, meeting in a spotlight as everything else fades away.

It’s just… those moments don’t happen, not in real life and certainly not to you. It’s never as simple as that: see — want — have.

You can’t help but hope that this time might be different.

Spencer’s smiling, and the way he looks at you with those big soft eyes makes you feel like you’re standing in a spotlight. It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It’s just unusual, this jittery, excited, not-exactly-stage-fright thing happening in your chest.

You have to remind yourself to breathe.

The pause stretches a bit too long, and in an effort to fill the silence you blurt out, “What are you thinking about?”

He hesitates, and his tongue slides along his lower lip, drawing your attention to his plush pink mouth as he says, “I was thinking—”

“Spence! There you are!” someone says loudly, and you’d be embarrassed by the way you jump, startled, if Spencer didn’t do the exact same thing.

“Hey. Emily. Um… what’s up?” His voice cracks. He looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar; it’s flattering and oddly endearing.

“We have a case.” The woman seems to be holding back a smile as she glances apologetically at you. “Meet you up front.”

Spencer is visibly disappointed as he turns back to you. He gives you a helpless sort of shrug, and for a second, neither of you say anything.

Your throat feels tight as your eyes lock on Spencer’s parted lips again. It’s been such a long time since you felt this drawn to a person; his closeness feels hypnotic.

“I’d like to see you again,” he says shyly. “I — can you—”

“Phone number?” you supply. His hands flutter and his eyebrows rise, like he forgot, for a second, that cell phones exist. Then he pats his pockets, pulls his out, and passes it to you. Once your number is saved, you give it back with a small smile.

“I’ll probably be out of town for a few days, and then — maybe next weekend,” he says.

“I’d really like that,” you admit, trying to make yourself take a step back. “This was — yeah. I’m glad I met you.”

“Spencer!” someone says, from the door, and he waves them off without turning to look.

“Earlier, when you asked—” He pauses, frowning, shifting his weight like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. “I was thinking about how much I’d like to kiss you.”

His voice is soft and husky, and it cracks on the last word like maybe his throat is tight too. You feel hot all over.

You never even shook hands; there’s been no physical contact whatsoever between the two of you, and now your head is spinning with the urge to reach out, to touch, to get closer... but it feels like you missed your opportunity for that — it doesn’t feel right, not when you know it’d be over much too quickly. You can tell Spencer feels it too.

Once two magnets snap together, it’s a lot harder to separate them.

“Rain check on that,” you say breathlessly, and he nods, raising one hand in an awkward wave as he steps back.

This is Spencer, by the way. I’m really glad I met you.

The text comes in just an hour or so later, when you’re sitting in the cab on your way home, and you smile so wide it feels like your cheeks might split with it.

The giddiness lasts until Tuesday morning, when you walk into the first session of your six-week-intensive graduate seminar and see Spencer at the white board, writing down page numbers for your reading assignment.

Your eyes lock, and there’s another of those moments where you can’t see anything other than him. It’s not so pleasant this time, though.

Spencer drops his pen, and you promptly forget how to walk, stumbling and spilling coffee down your front. You curse so loudly that the rest of the class turns to stare at you.

To add insult to injury, the only open seat is directly across from Spencer’s.

Fantastic.

You spend the next hour and a half trying very hard to avoid eye contact, and for the most part, you’re successful. He doesn’t seem to want to look at you either.

You do sneak one glance, though, and he’s just as pretty in the harsh fluorescent light of the classroom as he was in the golden glow of the bar lights. It seems really fucking unfair.

If it were any other class, you would consider dropping it, but you were lucky to get a spot; this is big for your resume. It’s a special, one-time-only class, and your advisor had described the guest professor as “a genius, and one of the leading names in his field.”

...fuck.

Spencer dismisses the class. You start packing hurriedly, convinced he’s going to ask you to stay back, but you get out the door without incident. You’re already halfway down the hall when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Can we talk?

It’d be so easy to lie, say you have somewhere to be, put the rejection off for another day, but instead you take a deep breath and turn around.

Spencer is sitting right where he was, except now he’s cross-legged in the chair, twirling a pen and frowning at it like it contains the mysteries of the entire universe. He gives you a twitchy attempt at a smile, eyes wide with worry.

You move closer, sitting down next to him, trying to ignore those fucking fingers as he plays with the pen. This would be a whole lot easier if he would stop doing that, because it’s just like the bar — the same hot, fluttering sensation low in your belly, no matter how much you try to ignore it now.

“I thought you worked for the FBI,” you mumble and he lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sigh.

“I do,” he says ruefully. “I just — also teach, sometimes?”

“Yeah. I got that.”

His tongue does that slow swipe across his lower lip. You bite your own lip, trying not to stare, and Spencer drops the pen with a clatter.

“Sorry,” he says, shoving both hands through his hair. “I’m so sorry if I — if this is — is this going to make you uncomfortable?”

You frown, looking at him blankly for a second, because that was so not the reaction you expected. “Uncomfortable?”

“Knowing that I — that I’m attracted to you? I’m aware of the power imbalance inherent in the situation and I promise I would never—”

“Present tense?” you blurt out, and Spencer stops, blinking at you.

“Well… yes. I thought that was obvious. I meant it, you know; I don’t just meet people like that,” he says, agitated. “It’s usually difficult for me to talk to strangers, and you’re — you’re just — yes. I’m attracted to you.”

“I figured you would think I was immature, and — I mean, it’s such a fucking cliche,” you laugh, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. “I usually try to avoid modeling my life on Van Halen songs.” He gives you a blank look and you add hastily, “Never mind. Point is, a student with a crush, throwing themselves at a professor? Seems like a recipe for embarrassment.”

“Oh,” he says, as a smile spreads across his face. “So… maybe after the class is over, we could—”

“Yeah?”

Spencer is blushing. Jesus pogo-jumping Christ, you want to kiss him.

“It’s just six weeks. We’ll keep it strictly professional — appropriate — for six weeks.” The words are quiet, all husky and promising, and you can’t tell whether it’s intentional or not, but something about that tone sounds very fucking inappropriate. “And then… we’ll take that rain check.”

You nod and clear your throat. “You’re on.”

SIx weeks, two classes a week, ninety minutes per class. Easy enough.

It’s not easy. Not in the fucking slightest.

Part of you wishes he could be a bad teacher, or something. If he was boring — if he had an obnoxious laugh — something. Instead, every goddamn minute spent in his classroom seems like another reason to fall for this guy.

And yeah, sure, he’s pretty. You catch yourself staring, sometimes: his long lashes, the hint of gold in his eyes, the sharp angles of his jawline, the messy hair… and you’re not the only one. It seems like the entire class is crushing on him by the end of the second meeting, boys and girls alike, and maybe you would make fun of the Indiana Jones-style lash-fluttering that’s aimed his way if you weren’t guilty of doing the same thing yourself.

Once word gets around that there’s a cute new professor in the criminology department, rumors start to fly left and right. You’ve heard other students talking about him, speculating about the apparently “way more badass than you’d think” Doctor Reid. You hear stories about how he got shot once — was kidnapped and tortured — overdosed on heroin — saved a train full of people by talking down a lunatic with a gun — hooked up with a movie star — went to jail for murder — you name it, every story more far-fetched than the last.

Well, he did mention getting shot one time, but you’re pretty sure the rest are too absurd to be true.

Either way, it’s not the looks or the legends that have you hopelessly head-over-heels.

It’s the way he lights up when he gets started on a subject that interests him. It’s the joy in his expression when a student asks a good question, or when they draw the right conclusion; his smile is bright and brilliant every time.

The first time one of those smiles is aimed in your direction, along with a half-shouted, “Correct!” and an excited wave of his pen, you’re just about blinded. It quickly becomes one of the driving goals of your day-to-day life: make Spencer smile.

He’s beautiful, in those moments when he’s grinning and enthusiastic, but the quiet moments are even worse.

Sometimes he stares as you work your way through a train of thought, eyes glinting as he fixes them on you with a breathtaking intensity and this fierce pride. Sometimes, his voice is firm and sharp, and sometimes when he says things like, “Yes, exactly like that,” it sounds so much dirtier than it should.

Sometimes — sometimes — once or twice or a dozen times — you fantasize about that voice. You’re only human.

You never realized there was such a thing as a “praise kink,” but… yeah. That about sums it up.

At first you worry that he’ll lose interest: that you’ll say something stupid or he’ll find someone else, because in your experience with men, they don’t wait around for six hours, let alone six weeks, once they’ve realized they can’t immediately have what they want. Instead, it only gets worse as the weeks pass.

It’s nothing obvious, nothing that could be labeled as inappropriate — you still haven’t touched Spencer, not so much as an accidental brush of his hand against yours when he passes back a graded essay. It’s just that his gaze lingers, whenever he looks in your direction, just a moment longer than it would on anyone else. Every time your eyes meet, you have a hard time remembering that the rest of the world exists. It might as well just be the two of you. There’s this heat between you, this crackling electricity, like touching a live wire every single time, like you can’t pull yourself away to break the current.

It’s the longest six weeks of your life.

“That’s our time,” Spencer says, glancing at his watch. “I’ll get your essays marked and returned to you before break, and on Sunday evening, I’ll submit your final grades, at which point—” His eyes flick to you, and you bite your lip. “— my responsibilities as your professor are complete. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Hi,” Spencer says, without preamble, when you pick up the phone on Saturday evening. “This is — um. This is Spencer?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning so hard you can barely say, “Yeah, I know.”

“Right. Um… where are you?”

“Just dropped off a few library books.”

“I got grades done a little early,” he says hesitantly. “Do you want to… meet me at my office, maybe? We could go out for dinner?”

You’ve never been there before, but you know where it is. Open office hours with Spencer always seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, because your self-control only goes so far.

“Sounds good,” you say, voice strained, heart racing. “Be there soon.”

You walk fast.

The building is mostly deserted, at this hour, and as you walk quickly down the hall, the catch and release of breath in your lungs seems too loud for your quiet surroundings.

You might be panicking a little bit. There’s still a part of you that’s just waiting for him to change his mind, to realize how dorky and awkward you are, to find someone more polished or accomplished or… something — fuck, this seems to good to be true.

Spencer has one of the old, cramped temporary offices used by visiting professors, and even though he’s only been here for a month and a half, he’s amassed quite a collection of books in the small space. When you step through the open door, he’s got his sleeves rolled up as he places a couple books gently in a box. He runs his hands through his hair with a sigh, making it even more hopelessly touseled.

“Hey,” you say, and he turns around, wide-eyed and nervous for a moment before a smile — one of the brilliant too-bright ones you’ve become so fond of — transforms his face.

“Hi! Um, I’ll come back tomorrow to finish cleaning, I was just — we could go out, I don’t have to — dinner? Are you hungry?” He picks up a pen from the cluttered desk, twirling it like he just really needs something to do with his hands; he seems just as anxious as you feel. It’s comforting, for some reason. At least you’re both awkward dorks.

“Not hungry,” you say shyly. You close the door, slow and deliberate.

Spencer’s eyes widen and then go dark, all heavy-lidded and heated.

He drops the pen, closes the distance between you in two long strides, and cups your face in his hands before kissing you, deep and urgent, dizzyingly perfect. It’s desperate, after all this time, all that pent-up longing and suppressed electricity surging through you all at once, making you gasp at the sharp incredible sting of his teeth nipping your lower lip.

It’s one hundred percent worth the wait.

You’re both breathless when he breaks the kiss, but you sway closer anyway, trying to follow his mouth, and blink like you’re coming out of a trance. His lips are red and swollen.

“Rain check on dinner?” he asks. His voice is suggestive and smoky — there’s nothing appropriate about it.

When you nod, he just reaches behind you and locks the door.

Smutty bit is now here!

More CM fic here!

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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harrypotter-imaginess · 4 years

Text

A/N: I got a tiiiiny bit of power and my first thought was my need for validation through my fanfiction lol. Hope you enjoy!

<This is Part 1!> / Part 2 Here!

- You’re in the middle of a blizzard, reading to pass the time, the power cuts in and out- giving you just enough time to scramble about trying to make your home just warm enough so you don’t freeze to death

- You sigh when it flickers off again, taking a sip from the hot drink you managed to make while you still had electricity

- Eyes turn back to the book in your hands, with the poor cell reception, and lack of television you’ve found the only thing you can bear to do it read and sleep

- Only occasionally withdrawing from both to eat whatever cold meal you can

- You’ve settled on reading the Harry Potter books, easy enough to read, even in your current condition

- The books are waterlogged, in terrible condition, you treated them quite rough when you were a child, though not all the blame is yours

- It’s an eclectic group, some hardcover some paperback, some borrowed from friends and never returned, some you got as a good deal at your local used bookstore

- You smile when you see all the parts with Fred and George are highlighted

- They always were your favorites

- You stiffile a yawn, you’re just getting to a good part-

- But a small rest won’t hurt will it?

- You feel your eyes drift close

- When they open again you’re looking at rolling hills, a wisp of steam curling into your view every so often

- Huh what a nice dream

- You close your eyes again only to feel a sharp sting in your neck that your eyes shoot open

- You don’t feel pain in dreams

- You’re in a train compartment an empty red bench in front of you

- You’re alone, the green hills rolling by outside the window

- You’ve seen this type of scenery before maybe in a movie, or a book-

- It looks a lot like something out of Harry Potter

- Your thoughts come to an abrupt hault, the memories slowly filtering in

- You’re a witch- your parents passed away in the first war, and you were brought up by your muggle godfather

- Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t some unfortunate Harry-Potter orphan story, your god father loved you a lot

- Even though he was a bit of a sl*t, the revolving circus of women that left his room every Sunday was practically your childhood form of television

- You even did a report on it in muggle school, high left several faculty members feeling concerned

- Still he loved you a lot, and he tried to be as honest as he could about your heritage, and your parents

- But well- he was a muggle, there was only so much he could do

- Still, he took you to kings cross himself, taking you to your gringott’s safe where your parents meager savings had increased by ten fold over the years, helping you pick your wand and books

- “Now I can’t go with you onto the platform, so write and let me know when you’ve reached safely alright?” You nodded, as he pulled you into a hug

- “I’m going to miss having you home”

- “But now you can bring women to the flat whenever you want” You were only joking but it makes him sniffle

- “I’d trade all of that to have you at home for just a few more years”

- You only pat his shoulder reassuring him you’ll be back during the holidays

- You had tried your hand at a few spells, but nothing drastic

- You were excited to see what Hogwarts would bring, what you might learn, and the friendships you might build

- You were so excited that you didn’t sleep all night, finally succumbing to a nap when you collapsed in an empty compartment

- And that brings you to the present, where you’re practically sweating buckets in the red bench.

- Okay, so you’re in Harry Potter now- some how

- And yeah, you’ve always kinda wished you could go to Hogwarts-

- But not like this!

- For one every book, like 3 kids die

- Even the cute ones, like Collin Creevey-

- And honestly if a main character like Fred Weasley died, what chance do you have at surviving?

- You’re probably just one of those nothing characters that dies at the battle of Hogwarts- if not sooner

- You look down at your hands

- Not to mention you’re suddenly eleven years old

- How many times did you have a nightmare you suddenly had to go back to middle or high school again because apparently you missed a class?

- Well this is like a nightmare come true

- You look under your shirt, holding the neck out only to sigh

- It’s your body still, you vaguely remember looking like this when you were younger

- But god-

- It’s like a strangers body at this point

- Ugh you don’t have time to think about this

- your goal right now is to survive

- A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts

- “Change into your robs, we’re getting close” a muffled voice says from the other side and you sigh

- Of course you are

- You sigh as you pull out your plain black wizards robe, almost looks like a graduation gown to be honest

- And that’s the uniform here is it

- Strange

- As you tug on the sleeves you think how you’re going to get out of this

- If you’re right the year is 1990, a year before Harry Potter shows up

- Okay so as far as you know- nothing really happens this year

- You don’t have to worry about all the Pureblood crap because both your parents were wizards, so you’re a half blood at least

- Now it’s all about house-

- If the books are 100% accurate then it’s between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Snape will turn a blind eye to any of your transgressions because of favoritism

- And McGonagall would go to bat for you if the circumstances were unfair

- Still- the Slytherin house seemed problematic what with the old money in that group

- Not all of them were probably like that- just the most prominent characters- you’d really rather not get involved with all that if you could

- And then- Gryffindor was even worse, you might be safe this year, but next year you would be plagued with death flag after death flag- no thanks

- Sprout seems nice enough, but you’re not too sure about that common room, in the dungeons- hard pass

- That leaves Ravenclaw, Flitwick seems nice enough, and the dorms are in a Ravenclaw tower

- Luna Lovegood will be there soon, and well, that could be pretty fun

- So you’ll try for Ravenclaw you think- pulling on your bag and joining the horde of students

- You’re about to join the other first years when you feel a tug on your bag.

- You turn towards the feeling to see two identical boys, a splatter of freckles across their nose, and flaming red hair

- “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” The taller of the two asks, a grin curled onto his lips, and his eyes full of stars

- You only nod

- They’re both looking at you like they’ve just seen a movie star and you can’t figure out why

- You’re only eleven years old after all, what could you have possibly done?

- “Was you Mum-“ the shorter starts

- “Was she the famous auror?” The other finishes

- Ah- of course

- Your mother was indeed a famous war hero, known for her noble efforts during the war

- Your god father had told you that at least

- “I’m George, and this is Fred” the shorter - George- says jerking his thumb to his twin

- Oh

- So they’re Fred and George Weasley?!?!

- Honestly you should have known by the red hair

- You can’t believe you’re meeting some of your favorite characters

- You stick your hand out, hoping it’s not too sweaty

- “(Y/N),” you say, “but you already knew that”

- George grins as he takes your hand first, with Fred repeating the motion

- “What house do ya think you’ll go to?” Fred asks

- “We hope you’re aiming for Gryffindor” George adds with a sly grin

- You can feel your face warming up under their gaze

- Alright- change of plan- you’ll try to get into Gryffindor so you can be friends with George and Fred

- It’ll be a little risky, but until the end they weren’t really in any of the serious adventures.

- Besides maybe if you hang out with them, you can save Fred near the end

- “Maybe” you smile at them, hearing a voice call your name for a carriage

- “See you around!” You wave goodbye, stepping into you assigned carriage with a group of other first years

- It’s sort of a mismatch, you don’t quite recognize anyone in here

- Than again the children an age above Harry were never really mentioned

- “Ugh I can’t believe my glasses broke, what rotten luck” a girl besides you says- you turn to see a girl with long dark hair, fiddling with a pair of broken glasses in her hands

- “Ah here, can I?” You ask, holding out your hand, and the girl wordlessly hands you her glasses

- Your murmur a spell and watch as the metal expands curling until it wraps around the broken edge, resembling intertwined vines

- “It’s not the best, but it’ll do for now”

- It’s only when you look up to hand the girl back her glasses that you notice everyone’s watching you

- “How did you do that?” A boy asks, and you shrug

- “Oh well I just said the incantation-“

- “I’ve never heard that one before” another girl murmurs

- You shrug again

- “Anything can be an incarnation of you just put enough feeling into it right?”

- The children clamor at you all at once

- It turns out the two girls were Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott- both Hufflepuff’s if you remember correctly

- Guess they were a year older than Harry in this world

- And then the boy is Blaise Zambini

- You know in the books he’s in a morally Grey area at best.

- “So like this?” He asks and you shake your head

- “You have to put your wrist into it more”

- But now, as he’s begging you to teach him the repairing charm that you cast, all you see is a little boy who wants to learn

- Change of plans, if you get into Slytherin maybe you can watch over Blaise and be his best friend

- That way he won’t get all mixed up in that Death Eater crap

- Maybe you can even get him onto your side, make a coven of witches and wizards and do some non-alignment stuff during the war

- You’re all gathered in the hall, answering a roll call from a rather lithe and strict woman- professor McGonagall no doubt

- After that you’re left waiting, and feeling somewhat bored, and somewhat like you may have had too much pumpkin juice- you hobble off into the corridor looking for a bathroom

- “Hurry back I think we’re about to go into the sorting ceremony” Blaise says and you nod

- You do not, in fact, hurry back

- Because after relieving yourself- you are incredibly lost

- It doesn’t help that all the portraits keep on shuffling around, or that all the corridors here look equally dark

- It’s only on your third time around the portrait of a woman eating an apple do you see what appears to be a person

- “What are you doing in the corridor?” As you come closer you realize it’s a boy, a yellow and black striped tie around his neck. “Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

- He’s quite pretty, with thick brown hair and rosy cheeks

- “I went to the bathroom and got lost,” you hear him murmur first year and raise an eyebrow “What’s your excuse?”

- He lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair

- “That’s fair,” he admits. And then after a moment he says:

- “I’m hiding”

- Your eyebrows thread together

- “Like from a crazy ex lover or..?”

- He laughs again, shaking his head

- “No, from my professor.” And then after a moment, before you can ask ‘is it because you’re having an affair with them’ he says:

- “They want me to be prefect for my house next year, and I don’t know how I feel about that”

- You let that sink in,

- “I know I should do it- it would give me an opportunity to represent my house, and look out for all my friends, and I’m sure my dad would be awfully proud but-“

- But it’s a lot of responsibility

- You get it.

- You sit beside him on the floor

- “You should do it-“ and before he can give a reason why you say:

- “You would get your own bathroom and I think that means a lot in a place like this”

- He laughs again, only this time the laugh leaves in loud gaffs, somehow you feel like this is the first real laugh the boy has shown you

- “I’ve heard a lot of reasons, but having my own bathroom is definitely a first”

- He looks at you in a way that makes your hair stand on end and your skin feel hot.

- “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory.” He says with an extended hand

- Ah, so this is pretty boy Diggory.

- He does kinda look like a young Robert Pattinson to be honest

- You take his hand in yours giving a firm shake

- “ (Y/N) (L/N) “ and you see his eyebrows shoot up

- “ (L/N) like the-“

- “ Yeah that’s my mum, the famous Auror”

- Cedric’s mouth curls up in a lopsided grin

- “I was going to say inventor- the inventor for the portable infinity box”

- Ah yes, your dad was an inventor. You didn’t know much about it though. Just that his inventions had left you a small fortune

- “My parents were both pretty remarkable huh?”

- And even though they’re not really your parents, and this isn’t really your body, you feel a little sad thinking about them.

- Before you can give Cedric a chance to offer his condolences, you stand up brushing off your robe.

- “We’ll come on Mr. Prefect in the making, show me to where I’m to be sorted” you say with a wave of a hand

- He grins

- “As you wish”

- Maybe being in Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad,

- and if you can manage to get close to Cedric, maybe he’ll let you use the prefects bathroom

- Huh, that does sound enticing

- Okay change of plans, you’ll get into Hufflepuff

- For the nice bathroom privileges

- When you get into the hall you feel all eyes turn to look to you

- And even though you’re an adult, you feel awfully embarrassed

- “If you get in Hufflepuff let’s get a butterbeer to celebrate, my treat..” Cedric whispers in your ear, and you catch a glimpse of the lopsided grin curled onto his face before he pushes you forward towards the group of first years

- Your face still feels hot when your name gets called

- You gulp as you move towards the chair

- Well it’s do or die- and you don’t plan on dying here

- You gulp again as the cold wood presses against your thighs as you take a seat

- All you have to do is ask for it to put you in -

- Wait

- What house were you aiming for again?

- Logic dictates Ravenclaw, it’s your best chance-

- But well, you’ve always wanted to be friends with Fred and George it just seems like so much fun

- And then, Slytherin’s not so bad, it would be nice if you could change peoples opinions about that house

- Oh and Hufflepuff might be nice too, you would have someone to look out for you- and you in turn can look out for others like Susan and Hannah

- And so it seems you’ve made peace, no matter which house the hat chooses, you’re happy with the outcome because there’s good and bad in all of them

- These things aren’t one dimensional, they nuanced. And that’s okay

- You feel the hat place on your head, and several long moments of silence pass

- .

- ..

- ...

- ....

- Shouldn’t something be happening by now?

- Like at least whispers in your ear from the hat or something right?

- “I-“ it finally chokes out

- Ah good a decision

- Well what’s your future going to be like?

- “I don’t know” the hat finally sputters, a collective gasp filling the room

- You drop your face into your hands, as small murmurs begin to spread through the tables

- “F*ck me” you mumble

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter preferences #harry james potter #harry potter reader insert #Harry Potter x reader #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #Cedric Diggory imagine #cedric diggory x you #Cedric Diggory x reader #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-” “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

»»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

»»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

»»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record…

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

496 notes · View notes

novelconcepts · 4 years

Note

Hi there could you please do #25 for dani and jamie ❤

playfully biting someone

The best part of a new relationship, Jamie reflects, is in all the little details. The strange quirks of a person you might never see until you begin dating them, until the hours spent in their company twist from nine to five to all bets are off. Getting to know someone’s body is grand; getting to know them, the heart of them, the truth of their day-to-day, is better.

She maybe hadn’t realized that, until Dani--but Dani is teaching her with every passing day just how much is waiting beneath the surface. There is, it seems, an endless supply of bizarre details to file away, each wreathing Dani in more charm than the last.

Dani, she’s learned, doesn’t like to drive--she’s tried exactly once, and spent the entire thirty-minute stretch drawn tight as a bowstring--but loves rolling down her window and letting a hand dangle in the breeze. She is great with a map, almost pathological at remembering radio stations, but frequently gets distracted by conversation and forgets to point out a necessary exit ramp. She is untrustworthy when left on snack duty in gas stations, constantly inclined to pick up a coffee or a bottled orange juice over water, but always seems to find the best chocolate in any given state.

Food, in general, proves particularly interesting. Dani thrills at the opportunity to introduce her to terrible fast food (”We have this,” Jamie says pointedly, as they pull into their first McDonald’s; “Not even close,” Dani says gleefully, and proceeds to order her a Happy Meal for the sheer joy of it). She is perhaps too invested in what sort of pizza Jamie considers the right kind (”Dunno,” Jamie says in a helpless tone, unaware that there are options. “The kind with, uh, sauce?”). There is, it appears, a right and wrong answer to crust width, cheese ratio, and toppings; the first time she orders pineapple, Jamie almost can’t bring herself to take a bite, she’s laughing too hard at the intense expression on Dani’s face.

(“You are,” she proclaims, “ridiculous.”

“It’s good,” Dani insists, and there is no sign of a beast about her smile as she watches Jamie try the pinapple-and-bacon monstrosity and, grudgingly, admit defeat.)

She learns that Dani prefers movies at home to the theater, but makes an exception whenever a new action film comes out. Dani likes dancing, but doesn’t love strangers being able to see her do it; she’s self-conscious about her questionable rhythm, at least until Jamie leans close and murmurs that rhythm hasn’t been a problem yet, from where she’s standing. Dani likes old bookstores, new flea markets, ice cream parlors run by elderly couples who compliment her earrings. Dani likes America, as it turns out, with all its many oddities, and Jamie finds that affection infectious. She is rapidly coming to like America, too--at least, the America she’s offered through Dani’s eyes.

Dani is effervescent by daylight, chatting with strangers, eagerly returning stray footballs that land near her in the park to laughing children. She turns thoughtful when the rain rolls in, always at her moodiest when the sky grows pregnant with clouds that refuse to break open. She feels weird, she says, when the moon is nearly full, and she misses constellations whenever they pull up to a city, and there’s something about Midwestern manners she can’t seem to shake whether they’re in Miami or Detroit.

She’s fascinating, and she’s complicated, and the good days hold just as many facets as the bad. Jamie is growing to love them all--the way Dani shrieks with laughter when tickled, and the way she grows somber at particular Paul Simon songs for no reason Jamie can understand. She loves the way Dani slips a hand beneath the hem of her shirt and holds on for dear life on long drives, her fingers skimming the edge of Jamie’s jeans. Loves how Dani can’t shower with the door closed, can’t sleep with it open, can never figure out the window latch in any given hotel room.

And she loves how Dani behaves with her alone. Not the sex--though that’s only getting better, Dani finding more confidence each time they come together; Jamie’s started to find herself pressed up against doors with unexpected strength, pushed down onto beds with her head spinning and Dani already getting to work--so much as the intimacy. They’re different, she’s learning. Different tiers of the same cake, maybe. Can’t have one without the other, not if it’s good, not if it’s with Dani.

Sex comes easily, though it’s taken a little while for Dani to open back up again. When she does, the transition is absolute--no fear, no hesitation, her hands and lips and voice winding together to explain, If it’s just today, if I only have now, I need to be here. She doesn’t want to miss a moment, she says. Doesn’t want to let anything slip by. She wants to experience every inch of Jamie, and every inch of this country they’re exploring, and every inch of time won back from an unfair universe.

The intimacy--the way her hand always seems to find Jamie’s pocket, the way her forehead leans against Jamie’s back, the way she lets her foot press against the side of Jamie’s boot under a restaurant table--comes from the same place. That need to remember. That need to be here. If only for today, if only a little at a time, she can’t resist.

Which brings her to the part of Dani Jamie thinks she likes best:

Dani’s absolutely unexpected need for attention.

“Did you just--” She hesitates, wondering if she’s hallucinated. It’s such an odd little thing for Dani to have done, sprawled beside her on a motel bed. Such an odd thing, both of them with books open against bent knees and no conversation between them for half an hour.

And still, she’s almost certain. More so, when Dani gives a guilty grin.

“You bit me,” Jamie says, wonder in her voice. “Really?”

Dani doesn’t look particularly apologetic. “Missed you.”

“I’m right here,” Jamie says, unable to restrain the laughter in her voice. “You could, ah, initiate whenever you like.”

“Wasn’t about that.” Dani shrugs, small and clean in a post-shower sleep shirt and very little else. Jamie lays a finger between the pages of her book, closing the cover.

“Was it a food thing, because I have never seen someone put away a burger that size, but I could always order--”

Dani laughs. “No, I just--wanted to.” She shakes her head, looking as though she’s surprised herself as much as Jamie with the simple act of leaning over and sinking her teeth gently into the curve of Jamie’s shoulder. “Didn’t even think about it. Just...felt like getting your attention.”

“You have it.” She always does, even when Jamie’s reading, or starting to doze off, or thinking about tomorrow’s leg of the journey. Somewhere underneath it all, the reliable heartbeat powering her day, she’s always thinking of Dani. That should frighten her. That should worry her very much--and yet, somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“I won’t do it again,” Dani says, “if you didn’t like it. It was weird, wasn’t it? Weird thing to do.”

“Very weird,” Jamie agrees. “You’re a bit of a weirdo, Dani Clayton. Dunno if I’ve pointed that out.”

Dani jostles her, shoulder to shoulder, and Jamie drops her book onto the nightstand. In truth, she loves that Dani is starting to do weird little things just to see what response she’ll get--loves that Dani doesn’t twist herself into knots, questioning an act, choosing instead to just go for it. It feels like the Dani she held in a hallway, hours before their lives had changed forever.

“What are you doing?” Dani is giggling already, as Jamie curls against her side, nuzzling into her neck.

“Returning the favor.”

“That--” Dani draws a sharp breath as Jamie finds a particularly sensitive spot and draws the skin between her teeth. “Um. That’s--not what I--”

She’s melting into the pillows, one hand cupped behind Jamie’s head. Her pulse is quickening, though she’s starting to laugh as Jamie rains tiny bites down the side of her throat, along the slope of one shoulder. The cotton of her t-shirt pulled between even teeth, Jamie leans back slightly, meeting her eyes.

“Wanted my attention,” she says, the words garbled around shirt. “What d’you want me to do with it?”

“This,” Dani laughs, her eyes fluttering when Jamie releases the shirt and returns her mouth to the soft column of her neck. “This is, um. Working nicely.”

“Figured,” Jamie murmurs, letting one hand toy along the curve of Dani’s thigh. “I like it, you know.”

“This?” Dani’s head is casting back, offering more room to explore; her fingers wrap around Jamie’s, guiding her toward an end to this conversation, the beginning of a different kind of discussion altogether. Jamie smiles.

“You. Doing weird shit just because. Biting my arm, or singing to me in the shower, or just...bein’ here. I like it. Like you.”

More than, she thinks. More than just like. It’s been true for weeks and weeks, maybe since the morning she’d tried to hold firm against pleading blue eyes in a greenhouse. Maybe. She’s more than liked the way Dani catches her gaze, brushes up against her, seeks out her attention for longer than she even knows what to do with.

Too early to say so. Too early to scare Dani away. She’s getting brighter, getting more hopeful every day, but she still flinches from words like Christmas, like next year, like in a while. She wouldn’t cope well with Jamie telling her the truth just yet.

Better to just do this. To learn the little details--the tiny stamp of intimacy on every step of this journey. To accept the just try it of pineapple on pizza, of dancing on moonlit beaches, of Dani’s teeth sinking into her shoulder for no reason at all. It’s better. It’s the best thing she’s ever done.

There are so many details, with Dani. So many stories to learn, so many quirks to memorize. And there is always, at the end of the day, this: just Dani, in her bed. Just Dani, drawing shallow breaths, pulling her down into a hungry kiss as she urges Jamie to explore with eager hands. Just Dani, who wants her attention merely because it’s Jamie offering it up.

Bit of a weirdo, she thinks, and thank fuck for that.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag

144 notes · View notes

fanficimagery · 4 years

Text

Hell Takes Riverdale pt. II

Imagine moving to Riverdale while your father has some business to attend to. While there, you meet some people you find yourself growing attached to. (In which the other three most important serpents accept Y/N and shit goes down).

You can find part one right HERE.

Words: 12.9K Author’s Note: Violence. Somewhat.

For the next couple of days, you're a little bummed that no one other than Jughead texts you to see what you're up to. You respect your friends' decision to distance themselves, but it still hurts. And not even Jughead's words of assurance are enough to ease your mind.

Your mood sours even more when you and your dad are visited by the Plague Kings who are rather pushy and wondering about when their Queen will return to finally marry a Prince of their choosing. Lucifer managed to make you bite your tongue, answering their questions with questions of his own and annoying them enough that they returned to Hell rather quickly.

"I am not marrying Caliban, dad," you tell him. "The only reason they're pushing this marriage is because they don't like a woman in charge. You have no idea how close I am to just putting Lilith in charge in my absence."

Lucifer chuckles. "Fret not, darling. As soon as Riverdale sees the error of their ways I will be returning to Hell to reclaim my throne." You frown and your dad's smile turns genuine, not a hint of mockery in his tone or expression. "I wanted you to rule Hell, but you've seem to have found your footing here on Earth."

"Dad.."

"So I'll reclaim Hell and leave you with Riverdale. All I want for you is to be happy, my darling daughter, and if those in Riverdale give you that happiness, then who am I to take that away and make you rule a place where your subjects would see you dead rather than on the throne?"

"I don't know about that," you mumble. "The only ones speaking to me right now are Jughead and FP."

"The others will come around. Trust me. Especially little miss Pinky. She's been yelling at the boys to get their head out of their asses."

"Yeah? If that were the case then she would have visited me herself with or without the boys."

"Give them a bit more time. It's like FP said- they're a loyal bunch. They just need to wrap their minds around a few things."

"If you say so." You watch as your dad fiddles with his cufflinks. "Well while you're out ruining lives, I'll be downstairs in the theatre. I don't feel like going out tonight."

Lucifer chuckles. "Sweetheart, you haven't been out in the last few nights. Or to school for that matter, but I get it. Shall I tell your friends where you are if they ask?"

"I don't care, dad. Tell them whatever you want."

Before your dad can leave, you head downstairs to the basement where you set up a movie theatre in your free time. Closest to the stairs, a kitchenette of sorts was installed so you didn't have to go far for snacks, a projector hung from the center of the ceiling and was pointed towards the back wall where a large white screen was installed. There's a large sofa in the middle of the room, which is larger than a king sized bed, and a speaker in every corner of the room so you can really enjoy whatever movie or show you watch.

After turning on the projector and searching for something to watch on your laptop, you settle down in the middle of the sofa and snuggle down with a blanket and pillows. You're watching a show where each episode is about a different murder mystery and you're two episodes in when the doorbell rings. You groan and remain laying down, hoping whoever is at the door goes away, when it rings again.

Pausing the show, you roll out of your haven of comfort and trudge upstairs. You yank open the front door upon the third ringing of the bell and not even the sight of three faces you'd been longing to see is enough to pull you from your funk. "What?"

Toni's eyebrows raise at your tone and the two boys grin at your pouty expression. Sweet Pea reaches forward, tugging on a loose strand of hair. "And to think you're the daughter of the devil. You're as adorable as an angry kitten."

You slap at his hand, exhaling loudly as the three of them chuckle. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Can't we visit our friend?" Fangs shrugs. Your expression softens just so at the casual mention of him calling you their friend. "It's been a few days. We missed you glaring the Ghoulies into submission at school."

"That and we might have overheard your dad telling FP about some demons demanding you return to Hell and marry some douchebag prince," Toni says. "No way are you running off and getting hitched before you tell us what the hell that is all about."

You glance between all three of them and, seeing as they're trying, you decide to let them in. "If you're going to stay, shoes come off. We're going to be in the theatre."

"Theatre?" Sweet Pea wonders.

Finally grinning, you step back from the door and gesture them inside. Seeing that you're in socks, Toni readily kicks off her boots. Fangs shrugs and does the same, and Sweet Pea sighs before toeing off his own boots as well.

Afterwards you lead them down into the basement and choke down a laugh when Toni gasps at your setup. "We've been having sleepovers and movie nights at my trailer when you had this beneath your house?!"

"Well to be fair, I couldn't bring any of you over because I couldn't risk anyone from Hell popping in while I had you over." Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all tense and you crawl onto the sofa to get comfortable. "But they've been chased away for now so there's no worry." Slowly but surely your friends crawl in, but only Toni is brave enough to sit directly next to you. Fangs stays on Toni's other side while Sweet Pea lays across the end of the sofa. "So any questions before I restart my murder mystery marathon?"

"Well you can start with these plague kings or whatever the hell your dad was talking about," Sweet Pea says. "What's their deal?"

You sigh, dragging a blanket to cover your lap. "So the thing is," you start to tell them, "the throne was never meant to be mine. Lucifer had his sights set on his first born daughter since she's a witch-"

"Witches exist?!" Fangs exclaims.

"Yep. So do a lot of other things," you muse. "I'd stay away from Greendale if I were you." His eyes widen, but Toni and Sweet Pea merely chuckle. "Anyway, my sister was supposed to take after my dad, but she refused him. She was raised to believe Lucifer was the ultimate evil and she didn't want to follow in his footsteps."

"So when do you come in?" Toni asks.

"About a few years ago," you admit. "When my sister refused him, Lucifer sought me out since I'm only a couple hours younger. He brought me into the fold, showed me and told me everything I'd need to know, and I accepted. I learned all about the ins and outs of Hell, learned exactly who is who, but since I'm still half mortal none of the higher ups don't exactly accept me. My coronation almost didn't happen, but it did and now the Plague Kings have been hounding my dad to marry me off to some prince Caliban since he was quite literally made in Hell."

"Well you aren't going through with it, are you?" Sweet Pea asks.

"Ugh. No," you scoff. "I was meant to rule a lot longer than what I have, but no one could have guessed that I'd get attached to a couple of snakes here in Riverdale." You glance at Toni and nudge her arm. "So as of right now, my dad is closing up a few deals before he reclaims his throne down in Hell and I'm left up here in the mortal realm to do as I please. I'll still be obligated to visit Hell, but my main residence will be here."

"And you're okay with that?" Toni asks. "Giving up the title of queen, I mean."

"Of course. I spent many years not knowing who my biological father was and living life like a normal mortal," you say. "I have quite a few perks now, my dad has made a mortal his best friend for the first time ever, and I- I like it here. I like you guys."

"Aww," Toni coos. "You're giving up a throne for us?"

"I guess so." You glance between all three of them. "So are we going to watch something or are we going to play twenty questions all night?"

Fangs glances around, spotting your laptop and pulling it into his lap to search through Netflix. "If we're watching something, we're not watching murder mysteries. Riverdale is weird enough."

Sweet Pea huffs. "You got that right."

"Fine. Pick whatever you want."

Fangs and Sweet Pea settle on the Conjuring much to Toni's dismay and your amusement. You and Toni prop up a mountain of pillows at your back while Fangs uses Toni's thigh as his pillow. Sweet Pea snags a pillow of his own, laying on his side and shoving the pillow between his arm and head as he faces the screen. You turn out the lights, Fangs hits play, and you watch the tale unfold about a haunted house that terrorizes a family. There are a few eerie moments and jump scares that startle all four of you, but only you and Toni roll into each other giggling while the boys swear at you.

Then after the first movie ends, everyone takes a pee break and you lead Toni into your room so she can find something more comfortable to wear seeing as they plan to watch a couple more movies. When you get back down into the basement, you smile as you realize the boys have made full use of the kitchenette and have snacks and drinks waiting for you all on the sofa, and the Conjuring 2 waiting to be played. When the boys complain about the unfairness of your comfort clothes, you tell them you can grab them pajama bottoms from your dad's dresser for them. They hesitate and Toni rolls her eyes, telling you to grab some pants for them. And a little while later, after the boys have changed into the cotton pajama pants, you can't help but laugh as they boast about wearing the devil's pants.

As everyone finally settles down, the boys join you and Toni at the sofa's backrest. You and her are in the middle with Fangs on her other side and Sweet Pea on yours. The lights turn out again, the movie plays, and you soak in the closeness of your friends. Halfway through the boys collect the bowls and trash, and take it to the kitchenette. You and Toni stretch out then, laying on your sides in the middle of the sofa with you cuddling her from behind as you face the screen. The boys coo and Fangs dives in front of Toni so she can cuddle him and Sweet Pea hesitantly slides in behind you. You grin at him over your shoulder and then try to focus back on the movie.

"Is this okay?" Sweet Pea murmurs, his large hand squeezing your hip.

His lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. "Mhm." You pause to clear your throat and lean back a little bit until the back of your shoulder hits his chest. "If, uh, if my dad shows up just ignore his orgy comments."

He chuckles. "What?"

"Apparently orgies are common down in the pits. Everyone's been waiting for the Queen- soon to be Princess again- to have her first one, but I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"What!?" The movie is paused and Fangs immediately turns around, Toni grunting but turning as much as she can as well. "You're gonna have an orgy?!"

"What? No!" You laugh. You gulp when you feel Sweet Pea squeeze your hip again. "I just said I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"Think being the key word," Toni muses and you groan.

"Well if you agree to one, in Hell or Riverdale, think of me. I'll join." Fangs winks at you and Toni laughs.

"Screw it. Count me in too."

You giggle, shaking your head at them. "Guys, you were literally scared of me days of ago because of who I am and now you wanna have sex with me?"

"Well not with you exactly," Fangs says. "Don't get me wrong, you're hot, but someone's already called dibs and-"

"What?" You frown.

Fangs eyes seem to widen then, momentarily darting over your head. "N-Nothing. Nevermind." Toni giggles at his rambling. "But yeah, orgies. Woo."

Having heard enough, Toni pushes Fangs' forehead away from her so he'll turn around. "Can we table the topic of orgies for now? Let's get back to our movie."

Fangs grumbles but turns around nonetheless and the movie resumes.

You get through the second movie with no problem, but before a third could be chosen a loud crack of thunder interrupts the tranquility of the basement.

"Shit." Sweet Pea is the first to rush off the sofa, followed by Fangs and then Toni. Everyone scrambles upstairs and the front door is thrown open, and all three groan at the drizzle that will no doubt turn into a full blown downpour in no time. "We need to move our bikes."

"The garage," you tell them. "Bring them into the garage." Your hurry towards the kitchen where there's a door that connects to the garage, hitting a switch that opens up the door. You step down, watching as your three friends drive their bikes into the safety of the garage so the rain won't ruin their leather seats. "All good?" You ask as they turn off the engines and dismount.

Another crack of thunder has you flinching and hugging yourself. Sweet Pea eyes you warily and you offer him a feeble smile. "You good?" He asks instead.

"Mhm. I'm just- I'm not a fan of thunderstorms."

Toni grins. "Seriously? You see demons on the reg and you're afraid of a little lightning and thunder?"

"I know. It's dumb. Can we go back downstairs now or do you need another change of clothes? You guys can spend the night if you want so you don't have to drive on slick roads."

"We're hardly even damp," Toni tells you. "We're fine."

You flinch yet again when the thunder cracks, louder now, and Sweet Pea chuckles at you. You frown at him, walking back into your house after hitting the switch to close the garage. The others follow you and you head back down into the basement, readily climbing under the blankets.

"Aw. Don't worry, Y/N. We'll protect you." As Sweet Pea crawls back in, he pillows his head on your chest and wraps an arm around your stomach.

For some reason, being weighed down seems to calm you so you lay one hand on his arm over your stomach and the other around his back to let him know you were okay with his position. Fangs grins at you and Toni smiles warmly, her eyes darting between you and Sweet Pea before the two of them settle down on your other side.

Apparently Fangs has taken it upon himself to pick what you're watching and you're so wrapped up in the fact a thunderstorm is raging outside that you don't mind his choosing of the Fast and the Furious. Then during the second movie in that series, the boys have apparently fallen asleep and you know you'll be joining them soon.

"I think I've figured it out."

Toni's voice startles you and you quickly run your fingers through Sweet Pea's hair, gently scratching at his scalp to calm him back to sleep. "Figured what out?" You mumble.

"That serpent you had your eye on." You freeze and she quietly giggles. "It's Sweet Pea, isn't it?"

You mull over her words for a moment until you exhale softly. "Yes, but I'm pretty sure being the daughter of the devil killed any chance we could have had."

"Are you kidding me? That boy is head over heels," Toni says. "Yes, your true identity threw him off a little, but I mean look at him! He's wrapped around you, head on your tits." You can't help but giggle, frowning at Toni when Sweet Pea stirs yet again. "Shut up. You're gonna wake him up."

"You two are adorable. He's not as aggressive when you're around and I've noticed tonight you smile a little bit brighter when it comes to him. I give you guys a couple of weeks top before someone makes a move."

"You're delusional, Topaz. Get some sleep."

She smiles at you. "Just you wait and see, Morningstar. And besides, you didn't see his face when we were talking about orgies. If looks could kill, Fangs would be dead right now."

"Mhm. We'll see."

Over the next couple of weeks, the three friends of yours seem to be at ease with you once more. Jughead was always at ease with you and your dad, so it was a relief when Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs started loosening up as well. There were times, however, when Sweet Pea and Fangs would straighten up whenever your dad walked into the room and that highly amused you every single time.

Your basement seemed to become hangout central and Jughead often joked that it was a shame everyone knew about it now. Which then led to Fangs and Sweet Pea ganging up on him for keeping it a secret.

You, Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea find yourselves at Pop's one day while Fangs went to visit a family member. You and Sweet Pea are practically sitting thigh to thigh on one side of the booth with Toni and Jug across from you. Toni, to this day, hasn't let you live it down that you have a crush on her longtime friend and it seems Jughead has now noticed it too. It also doesn't help that Sweet Pea is oddly rather touchy and has taken to slinging his arm across your shoulders whenever you're near- something which sets your heart racing every single time and fighting off a telltale blush that threatens to bloom.

"Alright," Jughead muses as Pop delivers your milkshakes, "so we were meant to celebrate the good news together, but Fangs isn't here so we'll just have celebratory shakes instead."

Your brow furrows. "Celebrate what?"

"You haven't heard?" Toni wonders. "Y/N, your dad bought Sunnyside Trailer Park." Your eyes widen and your friends chuckle at your expression.

"He visited my dad a few weeks ago and was appalled at our living conditions."

"Oh no," you mumble. "He was rude, wasn't he? I'm so so-"

"Actually," Toni interrupts, "he wasn't. "Either the devil has seriously gone soft or he's always been this amazing person because not only did he wipe out rent for everyone in the park, but he's also having the trailers renovated. My grandpa is seriously so happy to have his porch and the leaky roof in his bedroom fixed."

"Oh." You allow yourself to relax. "That's seriously really cool of him," you say. "I wonder why he didn't tell me?"

"Y/N!" Your attention is quickly diverted to Veronica Lodge as she marches up to you, milkshake in hand, and Archie trailing after her as he quietly tries to direct her elsewhere. "What the hell is your dad playing at?"

You frown as you stare up at her, Sweet Pea's arm tightening around you as he tries to pull you closer to him. "Excuse me?"

"Every bank account under my family's name, personal and business, has been frozen. Care to explain?"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do you hold back a snort that wants to break free. Your father was very vindictive. "I don't know what to tell you, Veronica. I don't put my nose where it doesn't belong. Maybe you should take a page out of my book and stay out of it."

She scoffs. "Please. Daddy has eyes everywhere. We know you're in the thick of things as well. You're not fooling anyone, Y/N. You're exactly like your mafioso father."

"Mafioso? You think my dad is part of the mafia?" You giggle. Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea share your amusement. "Oh Veronica," you coo, "the only mafioso in this town is your crooked father. And at that he's not very good at it, is he?"

Before anyone can even blink, the strawberry milkshake in her hand is being up-ended on your face. "Ronnie!" Archie is quick to yank her back, stepping in front of her as Sweet Pea growls and moves to stand up.

But since he's stuck between you and the wall, you raise your arm closest to him and drag him back down by his wrist. With your free hand, you wipe away some of the milkshake from your cheek with your forefinger and pop it in your mouth, sucking it clean. "Delicious," you purr. Grabbing the offered napkin from a still shell shocked Jughead, you wipe more of it out of your eyes. "Hate me all you want Veronica, but your family won't be crawling out of this hole your father dug. Enjoy the luxuries you still have while they last because the Lodge's are done." Veronica huffs, stomping away in a fit of anger. You smirk, chuckling as the other few patrons sitting around stare at you in shock, picking up more napkins to clean your face and shirt when you notice Archie Andrews still standing by the booth. "Yes?"

He shoves his hands in his jean's pockets, staring off in the direction his girlfriend left before looking at you yet again. "All I've been hearing for this past month is what a horrible man your father is." You blink at him, wondering where he's going with this. "So give it to me straight, Y/N. Does my dad have anything to worry about with your dad?"

And oh. Okay. Now you understand why he stayed back and why he's worried. Your father basically ruined the Lodge's, but Archie's never been terrible to you so you decide to ease his mind. "Mr. Andrews has nothing to worry about," you tell him honestly. "Apparently my dad's on the track of doing several good deeds for the town of Riverdale and FP told my dad all about Fred Andrews' hard working nature. He only wants to help those he thinks deserve the help. No strings attached."

"It's true," Jughead tells his friend. "Mr. Morningstar bought Southside High and got jingle jangle out of the halls."

"He bought Sunnyside and wiped out our rent," Sweet Pea says. "There's a crew coming in that's going to start hauling out all the junk and fixing up our trailers."

"In the couple of months that Mr. Morningstar has been here, he's purchased and cleaned up the southside rather than tearing our school and homes down and building over it," Toni tells him. "Could you say Hiram Lodge would have done the same for us?"

Archie shifts uncomfortably under everyone's gaze and you say, "Hiram and my dad had business dealings going back to before we were born. He royally messed up and my dad cleaned it up." You then offer him a faint grin. "My dad is not the horrible person you've no doubt heard about from your girlfriend and her family. Keep that in mind."

The redhead nods. "Thanks. And uh, I'm sorry about Veronica. I tried to stop her."

You shrug. "No harm done. The clothes can be washed. You and me are good, but if your girlfriend steps up to me again I won't be settling things with words."

He huffs a small laugh. "Duly noted." He then glances at the occupant across the booth from you. "See you around, Jug."

As soon as Archie takes his leave, your three friends all converge on you.

"Are you okay?" Jughead immediately asks.

"Girl, you have been blessed with the patience of a million people because I would have lunged across this table if it weren't for your calm demeanor," Toni says.

"I was so close to shanking her," Sweet Pea mumbles.

You snort and swat at his chest with the back of your hand. "It's just a little ice cream, guys. No biggie." You pull at your shirt, nose wrinkling. "I'm just going to go clean up in the bathroom. I'll be back."

"Oh hey," Toni climbs over the back of her seat, hopping out of the booth behind her to meet you, "I have some clothes in my bike's bag if you're interested."

"Yeah. Just bring it to the bathroom."

You head to the bathroom, not caring a bit about your clothes and instead turn on the water at the sink to wash off the stickiness of the ice cream that stayed behind on your skin. Toni appears not a minute later, clothes in hand, and you readily strip out of your jeans right then and there. She doesn't bat an eye and tosses you the pants first.

When you catch them, you give her a deadpan stare which she laughs at. "Leather? Seriously?"

"Put them on, Y/N."

You grumble all the while, putting one leg in and then the other, you almost falling a couple of times as you drag the leather up your legs. Toni is no help, she laughing at your misfortune and then at your exasperated, "Fucking hell. How do you breathe in these?" She tosses the shirt at you next and you glare when you see all the mesh involved. "My tits are gonna be out."

"No they won't. There's material sewn in so there no nip slips. You'll just be showing off the perfect amount of skin."

"I hate you." You strip off your shirt, turning around and stripping off your bra as well. You pull the long sleeve shirt on, frowning when you realize there's only a single band of material that wraps around your breasts. Everything else is see through. "I seriously hate you."

"Yeah well you're about to hate me more."

Toni quickly grabs up your discarded clothing and books it out of the bathroom, you lunging after her. She laughs as she makes a break for the exit and you freeze right before you can enter the main part of the diner. Through the windows you can see her stashing your clothes in the bag on her bike and you mumble threats at her as she re-enters the diner, walking towards the boys.

You've worn a couple of risqué outfits in front of your friends by now, but the shirt makes you feel really exposed. So after gathering your wits, and wishing you could just disappear in a swirl of flames, you march out from behind the wall and towards your friends. Sweet Pea is the first to see you and his eyes widen before they glance up and down your form. Jughead and Toni turn around in their seats, Jug's eyes widening before he laughs and Toni snapping a few photos on her phone. You pout at them as you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm ready to go now. Toni's clothes and I do not mix."

Sweet Pea seems to snap out of his stupor long enough to stand up and shed his jacket, then draping it over your shoulders. You exhale in relief and quickly shove your arms through the sleeves, smiling up at him until Toni coos and your gaze darts to her. If looks could kill, your friend would be seriously maimed.

"So are you guys ready for the Whyte Wyrm?" Jughead asks. "Fangs texted that he's on the way there right now."

"Sure, but we're swinging by my house first so I can get back into my own clothes."

"Do we have to?" Sweet Pea's voice rumbles directly above you. "I'm kind of into this look you have going on right now."

You freeze and glance upward, reaching out to poke his chest. "Don't press your luck, Sweets. Now come on. You're driving me."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles and follows after you.

Jughead and Toni watch as their friends leave, grinning at the sight of their friend swamped in Sweet Pea's serpent jacket. "Is it just me or is Sweet Pea seriously sweet on the devil's daughter?"

Toni chuckles. "That's nothing. You should see the way they sleep when we spend the night down in the theatre. You would think Y/N would be wrapped around him, but nope. Sweet Pea uses Y/N as his personal pillow and practically glares Fangs to death every time Lucifer brings up orgies."

Jughead's laugh falters. "O-Orgies?"

"Yeah. Apparently they're part of the norm down in Hell. I'm pretty sure Lucifer is gonna give Pea a heart attack one of these days if he keeps mentioning Y/N having her first one."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Life with the devil and his daughter just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"Preaching to the choir, Jug."

You're at home, alone for a change, and making yourself something to eat. Every now and then you just needed a day or two for yourself to decompress and it was something that your new friends seemed to understand. Especially since the Ghoulies started to push back, something having changed within their ranks and making them that much more cocky, and you had your hands full with them. But thankfully, they couldn't reclaim the school.

You manage to eat at least half a plate pasta when your cell rings, the unknown number making you frown. You take a sip of water before answering.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?" Toni's voice wavers over the line. "You need to get down to the hospital."

"Hospital?" You sit a little straighter in your seat. "What happened?"

"It's Jughead." She says. "The Ghoulies and Penny beat him. It's not good, Y/N."

The blood in your veins runs cold. You mind blanks before rage seeps in. "They what?" You seethe.

"FP's a mess. And they also stabbed Fangs, but it's nothing serious. And Sweet Pea-"

"What did they do to Sweet Pea?"

"He's fine." She's quick to assure you. "He's the least injured with a busted lip and bruised eye. He's more pissed and worried about Jug and Fangs right now."

You can feel your body trembling. "Toni, is there anyone around you right now?"

"No. The payphone was down some deserted hallway."

"Good. Give me a few seconds and I'll be right there." You hang up on her, pushing up from your chair and rushing down the hall to put on some shoes. You forgo any type of jacket, your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt just going to have to do. You inhale and exhale deeply, closing your eyes and concentrating on Toni. Once you feel like you've sussed her out, you will yourself to be taken to her and the telltale whoosh of flames lets you know they've done their job. When your eyes open, Toni's staring wide-eyed at you. "Take me to the boys."

Toni numbly nods, turning around and rushing down the hall. You're fast on her heels, your rage still boiling beneath the surface. Especially when you're led to the waiting room where your dad casually sits in a chair and FP paces in front of him. Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper are a few chairs down, and Sweet Pea is not far from them.

You completely pass up your dad and FP, heading straight for Sweet Pea. When he sees you, he attempts to stand but you catch his face in your hands and gently cradle it to examine his wounds. "What happened?"

"Ghoulies," he mumbles. His hands come up to wrap around your wrists, trying to smile reassuringly at you, but then flinching when his split lip stretches. "And Penny. She's back and out for your blood."

"She's dead," you murmur.

Sweet Pea's eyes widen. "Y/N-"

"Don't." You meet his gaze and you can see the concern there. You offer him a feeble smile in return, leaning down and pressing your lips to his forehead. "She will not get away with touching what is mine. She's dead."

As you pull back to make sure he understands you're being serious, you see him gulp and tersely nod. You drop your hands and step back from him, and he's quick to stand. Towering over you, he reaches down and grabs your hand within his own. He seems almost nervous about his move, but you merely squeeze his hand in response and lead him towards FP. Your dad stands as you pass him this time, joining you, Sweet Pea, and the elder Jones in the corner of the waiting room.

"I am so sorry, FP," you tell him.

He glances at you, eyes red-rimmed as he smoothes his hair back with one hand. "Not your fault, kid. I should have known Penny wouldn't have been kept at bay so easily. Or that she'd sit idly by as Lucifer took up Ghoulie territory."

You shake your head at him. "Penny doesn't know what we're truly capable of- she only thinks we're good with our fists and blades. She doesn't know that by touching my boys, she just signed her death certificate."

FP blinks at you as Lucifer chuckles. "Ding dong the witch is dead."

"So dead," you quietly seethe. Glancing up at Sweet Pea, you say, "I need you to take me to where they're laying low."

"I'm not taking you directly to them. It's you they're after, Y/N. Penny knew the only way to make you a loose cannon was to attack those closest to you."

"I am not a loose cannon, Pea. I am focused." You squeeze his hand. "I've never been this focused before, but if you won't take me I'll just get my dad to suss her out and you'll miss all the action."

"We'll take you," FP says. "I wanna be there for her downfall."

"And the Ghoulies," you tell him. "Whoever laid a finger on the boys are all going down."

Sweet Pea sighs. "You're gonna be the death of me." Lucifer full blown smirks and FP cracks a grin at the serpent in distress. "Fine. We'll take you, but you're riding with me."

And if they didn't think you were serious before, they know now seeing as you didn't make a joke about riding with FP like you normally would have given the chance.

Toni steps up to the group then, FP grasping her by the shoulder and leaning in to murmur, "Stay with Jug. We'll be back." She looks at you, but you subtly shake your head and she takes a seat in one of the waiting room chairs.

Hand in hand, you and Sweet Pea stalk out of the hospital with FP at your side. Lucifer decides to hang back as well, saying he's just going to check on Jughead as soon as he can and jumpstart the boy's healing process.

On the back of Pea's bike, you hang on to his waist and let the wind whip at your face and hair. Your rage at Penny and the Ghoulies has overcome you, that not even the sting of the cold air or cold drizzle is enough to faze you. It's about a ten minute ride to the clearing and by the time you get there your rage has made you eerily calm. The bikes are shut off and off in the distance, just beyond a bridge, there are several barrels emitting flames. As you climb off, FP and Sweet Pea stand on either side of you as they glance around your surroundings.

"Whatever you see, let it happen. I won't be responsible for what happens if anyone tries to interfere with what I'm doing."

The both of them mumble their acknowledgements and then you're walking. The clearing seems void of any life, but then the blonde bitch you watched Maze beat down and threaten over a month ago saunters out from between the trees. And she's not alone. About ten to fifteen Ghoulies come out from between the trees behind her and spread out.

"Tall Boy?" You glance at FP and follow his gaze, frowning at the semi-familiar Serpent standing with Penny Peabody.

"Told you going after the Jones kid would bring the little bitch out." Tall Boy chuckles and Penny looks like Christmas has come early.

"What the hell, man?!" Sweet Pea shouts. "You sent the Snake Charmer and her junkie little lap dogs after us? Serpents don't betray Serpents!"

"That's rich coming from you, boy." He huffs. Tall Boy points at FP as he says, "He teamed up with outsiders and practically lets them have free reign of the Whyte Wyrm."

"And don't forget he let his little lap dogs take me out of town and cut me up," Penny says. "But now I'm back, better than ever, and I'm out for blood. That," she points directly at you, "little bitch's blood to be exact."

Sweet Pea steps forward in your defense, but you grab his arm and pull him back. FP steps up to your side again, clearly not letting Tall Boy's betrayal go. "So what? Say you do take out Lucifer and Y/N. What is that going to solve? You're out Tall Boy. Exiled. You have no home here. Not anymore."

He shrugs. "Well then I guess I'll take out their king and rule the Serpents myself."

"I'd like to see you try." Everyone glances at you, your too calm tone seeming out of place for the current confrontation taking place. "Let's go, Tall Boy. You and me. Right here, right now."

"Uh, Y/N?" Sweet Pea says.

You step forward, gaze set on the Serpent in question. "What's wrong, Tall Boy? Are you afraid of a little girl?"

Tall Boy, Penny, and all the hopped up Ghoulies laugh, and you step forward. Tall Boy meets you halfway, grinning. "As soon as I'm done with you, my boys are gonna carve up your boys and then I'm gonna make a quick trip down to the hospital and finish what we started with Jughead."

"Oh Tall Boy," you mockingly smile. "Shut the fuck up."

He lunges forward to grab you, but you're quick to duck into a crouch and send your fist flying into his groin. You slide to the right and kick in the back of his knee, then sweeping his legs out from under him. You slap a hand down on his forehead, Tall Boy's screams resonating around the clearing as he convulses beneath your hand. You glance up and meet Penny's gaze head on. Her eyes widen and you sneer at her, and then you look back down at Tall Boy as you release him.

"Exile is too good for the likes of you," you say as he tries to scramble to his feet. On his forehead, there appears to be three claw marks branded there. "So I want you to run like the hounds of hell are after you, Tall Boy. Because they will be." As if on cue, eerie howls rip through the air and you slowly stand tall. Everyone tenses and glances around, but only Tall Boy seems to be staring at something that only he can see. You glance over your shoulder, grinning as two hellhounds step out from the shadows and brush up against FP and Sweet Pea. The two of them freeze and shift to the side, and you beckon the hellhounds closer to you. They stand at your side, under your palms, and you grin at Tall Boy. "Run, Tall Boy. My babies are hungry."

The hellhounds snarl as Tall Boy turns around to run and you click your tongue a minute later to let the hounds loose. Tall Boy can be heard screaming deep into the windows and you smile innocently at Penny and all the Ghoulies. A Ghoulie steps forward, taking Tall Boy's place next to Penny. His wild and curly hair hangs to his shoulders, and black coal is smeared across his eyes which seem a little too wide for any sober person.

"One down," you muse. "Who's next?"

"What the hell did you do to Tall Boy?" Penny seethes. She steps forward and you smile at her.

"Penny, Penny, Penny," you tut. "You're in no position to be asking questions." Your smile drops as your gaze hardens. "You should have listened and stayed out of Riverdale."

"Who the hell do you think you are, little girl?"

"Why I'm the queen of hell, of course." You smile innocently as lightning suddenly forks across the sky and everyone ducks on instinct. Penny and her ghoulish companion look up before they glance warily back at you, and you smirk. "Now kneel." A moment of silence passes before Penny and her friends laugh. Your smirk drops. "I said kneel!" You snap your fingers and everyone standing across from you falls to their knees. They glance around wildly, not knowing why they listened.

You stalk forward, your feet unknowingly leaving behind smoldering prints and lightning flashes ominously across the sky. "You mortals never listen," you seethe, your voice changing and sending chills down everyone's spine. "And now I'm going to finish what Mazikeen should have done the first time around."

Penny spits at your feet. "Screw you. You don't have what it takes to play with the adults, sweetheart."

"No?" You walk forward until you're just in front of Penny, reaching out and walking your fingers along her forehead until she jerks out of reach. "I command a legion of demons, sweetheart," you mock her. "You have no idea what I'm capable of." Penny opens her mouth to no doubt spew some idiot bullshit and you sigh. "Bored now. Bye bye, Snake Charmer." You shove your palm against Penny's forehead, smiling as a glow emits from your palm and seeps into her head.

Her mouth gapes open as she screams, her own eyes and mouth slowly emitting the same glow from your hand before her screams die out and she falls back. Dead.

Her ghoulish companion stares up at you in fear. "What the fuck are you?"

"Don't you listen, Malachi?" You sweetly coo. His eyes subtly widen at you knowing who he is.

"Queen of Hell. Yeah, I got that," he says. Suddenly his resolve seems to harden. "But what you don't seem to know is that you messed with the wrong ghoul. You see, I overthrow royalty." Before you can blink, his arm is raising and you see the glint of a blade a second too late.

The sharpened metal is embedded in your gut and he laughs cruelly.

"Y/N!" Sweet Pea and FP yell.

But you merely stumble back a single step, glancing down at the knife before you grab the hilt and yank it free. Dropping it, you look at Malachi from under your lashes. "That was a very stupid move." He snorts, but before he can say another word you reach forward with both hands and twist his head violently to the side.

As you glance up at the rest of the Ghoulies, you're met with fearful stares. You want to make each and every one of them suffer, every single face staring up at you guilty for having taken part in putting Jug and Fangs in the hospital. Stalking towards the first Ghoulie, you ignore their whimpers and press a single finger to the middle of their forehead. "Death is too harsh at the moment for the lot of you," you say. The Ghoulie beneath your finger screams before passing out, he falling limp to the ground. "So live your life to the fullest," you say as you touch the next one, "because the moment you cease to live, your soul will be dragged to Hell where you'll be tortured over and over and over again." At the next Ghoulie, you chuckle. "You really shouldn't have touched what was mine."

One by one, the Ghoulies fall unconscious under your hand. The clearing is littered with unconscious junkies, and by the time you turn around FP and Sweet Pea are a lot closer than they were earlier. FP is staring at you like he can't believe what he's just seen, but Sweet Pea's gaze is set on your abdomen where your blood has soaked through your sweater. You glance down, pressing your hand to your wound and then bringing your hand away soaked with blood.

"Oh. Well that's not good." You stumble backwards, but hands are quick to catch you before you can fall. Looking up at your savior, you smile shakily at the boy who had quickly won over your affections. "Hey Pea."

"Hey." His own smile is shaky as well, but the concern is clear as day. "You put on quite the show there, babe. What the hell did you do to the Ghoulies?"

"N-Nothing. Just branded their souls for a f-future trip down to Hell. And I made them forget what they'd seen here so they can't tell anyone."

FP comes up to your side then, grinning. "Smart move, Morningstar. Now come on. Let's get you to the hospital. We need to get you checked out."

Your teeth chatter as you nod. "O-Okay."

You gasp as Sweet Pea literally sweeps you off your feet, one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your upper back as he walks you towards his bike. Instead of reprimanding him for the sudden movement, you lean your head against his chest and let your eyes fall shut. Gosh, you're so sleepy.

"Hey. Y/N, wake up."

"M'tired."

"I know, babe, but you still need to keep your eyes open."

"Five more minutes."

Sweet Pea sighs. "If you don't open up your eyes, you're gonna miss a shirtless FP."

Your nose wrinkles and a moment passes before you crack open one eye. "You're a dirty rotten liar, Pea."

His upper body shakes with his quiet laughter. "Did you really just open one eye to see if I was telling the truth?"

"I'm injured. Don't mock me."

"You're right. I'm sorry," he muses. "Now come on. I really need you to open your eyes. You need to be alert so you don't fall off the back of my bike."

You groan. "Fine. But when I fall asleep at the hospital, you're not allowed to wake me up."

"Deal."

The steady beeping of a machine is what wakes you, your eyelids feeling too heavy to open. You try turning your head the other way, but the beeping continues and it makes you frown. You manage to flutter your eyelids open, blinking a few times until your vision focuses. The first person you see is Sweet Pea, the boy in question sitting in a chair with his head tilted back and mouth agape. You can hear faint snores coming from him and it makes you smile.

You turn your head the other way, smile blossoming at the two sleeping figures of Toni and Fangs.

"So Sleeping Beauty finally wakes." The gruff voice startles you and you have to pick your head up to see where it's coming from. Across the room from you, in a bed of his own, is a severely bruised Jughead who's eating a cup of green jello. "The bed remote is to your right if you wanna sit up."

You turn to your right, spotting the remote hanging from the bed railing and make a grab for it. Figuring out which button is which, you press the correct one to lift the upper half of your bed. You cringe as you do so, head throbbing suddenly. "How- how long was I out?"

"According to my dad, you've been out for three and half days. I woke up two days ago so I heard all about the craziness that went down the night I was brought in."

"Oh." You glance around, frowning. "Do, uh, do you know where my dad's at?"

"He's been in and out. The three stooges around you haven't given up their seats since you were put in here, so he said to call him when you woke up. I texted him while you were ogling Sweet Pea in his sleep."

"I wasn't-" You pause, sighing as Jughead chuckles. "Whatever." Glancing around again, you say, "What does a girl gotta do to get some food in here?"

As if on cue, the door bangs open and both you and Jughead flinch. Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea all startle awake. In walks your father, bags from Pop's in hand, and behind him FP walks in with two trays of drinks.

"You," Lucifer points out, "darling daughter, have a lot of explaining to do."

It's then your friends notice that you're up and awake, and you brace yourself as Toni and Fangs practically climb atop your bed.

"Will you be careful, you dumbasses!" Sweet Pea barks. "She just woke up."

"She just woke up," Fangs mocks him, earning a punch to the back.

You laugh, flinching when Toni's arm lays across your abdomen. Thankfully she notices and quickly readjusts her position, not moving from your side. Fangs, however, gets pulled from your other side and Sweet Pea carefully takes his spot. He maneuvers his arm so it's behind your and Toni's heads.

Glancing up at your dad, you accept the bag of food he holds out to you as he asks, "When exactly did your powers fully manifest? FP and Sweet Pea told me what they witnessed, and a sudden show of power like that is what kept you asleep so long. As well as the blood loss. You completely exhausted yourself."

You shift nervously under everyone's sudden gaze. "I, uh, it's all been slowly manifesting over the past couple of weeks. But then hearing about Jughead, it kind of sped up the process in one fell swoop and well.. FP and Pea saw how that ended."

Lucifer tuts. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself. You know better than to use so much power while still untrained."

"I know," you mumble. You make quick work of digging into the bag that's resting in your lap, pulling out a burger and unwrapping it. You immediately take a bite, groaning as the taste explodes across your tongue. "Can you lecture me later? I feel like I can eat ten of these."

Your dad wrinkles his nose. "Your mortal side is showing. Swallow before you speak."

"That's what he said," Toni mumbles.

You choke on your food and Sweet Pea immediately starts hitting your back in a panic. Eventually your airway clears and you glare at Toni who's smiling innocently at you. "You're a bitch." She laughs, but then your attention is stolen by FP whose handing you a drink. You grin gratefully at him as you suck up some ice cold Cola through the straw. "I hope I didn't leave you a mess to deal with."

"You didn't." He smirks. "I put in an anonymous tip to sheriff Keller about some Ghoulies who'd looked like they overdosed. I also might have told him they were also the ones involved with Jughead's beating. They ain't getting out anytime soon."

"Good."

Everyone makes themselves comfortable around the shared room, FP sitting next to his son's bed while Lucifer sits next to yours, but Toni and Sweet Pea have you squished between them on the bed while Fangs sits in an empty chair.

You manage to eat three burgers, two cartons of fries, and siphon down three cups of Cola when you notice all eyes are on you. Immediately you can feel the flush burning up the sides of your neck and up to your face. Leaning back, you push the rest of the food away and curl in towards Sweet Pea as the room's occupants start to laugh.

"So are you gonna share those burgers or you gonna wolf down every single one?" Jughead muses.

"Don't mock me. You're lucky I even left anything." Fangs chuckles at your pout and gets up, grabbing up the bags from your lap. He takes a burger for himself before walking the food across the room, and you grin as Jughead immediately digs in. FP can only shake his head at his son as Jughead groans in delight. "So," you say as you glance at your dad, "what happens now?"

"Now you heal," Lucifer says. "However, when you're all better we need to take a trip to Hell." Sweet Pea tightens his hold around your shoulders and you quickly glance up at him, smiling softly to reassure him everything would be fine. "I'm just about done with business here on the mortal plane, so we need to transfer roles back down in Hell."

"Ugh. Do I have to stay for the party? Your creepy minions are gonna try to bed me again."

"Well if you'd show up with a consort on your arm you wouldn't have that problem."

You frown. "You know damn well if I show up with a mortal in Hell it'll be chaos."

"But what fun chaos it'll be," Lucifer smirks.

"Hold up," Toni says. "Consort?"

Your dad's smirk widens and you sigh. "For some reason, dad wants me to take a boyfriend. Or husband. He's not picky."

"What!?" She laughs.

"Yeah. He's got his money on Sweet Pea just because he's tall and intimidating." Sweet Pea suddenly chokes and everyone in the room laughs at him. You grin at him, poking him on his side. "Relax. There are no wedding bells in any of our immediate futures. And besides," you say as you let yourself relax into Sweet Pea's side once more, fatigue suddenly overcoming you, "the elite of Hell only approve of a wedding if it's officiated in Hell. And quite frankly, no one I choose will ever step foot down there if I have anything to say about it."

"Wait. Hold on," Jughead says. "Are you saying you can get us in and out of Hell, and you haven't done so?"

FP scoffs. "Don't even think about it, kid."

You grin at Jughead's affronted expression, letting your eyelids fall shut. "We are not taking field trips down to Hell. Now everyone shush. M'sleepy."

It took you a few days before your dad deemed you well enough to visit Hell, making sure you did not show any form of vulnerability in front of the others. So you rested at home during the day and spent your evenings entertaining your friends who wanted to know all about Hell and how long you'd be away. But the truth was, you didn't even know yourself.

So when you and your dad finally left for Hell, you hadn't anticipated just how long you'd be there. You did anticipate, however, several demons being happy over the transfer of power. And that several others would swoop in in hopes of courting you. All of which you happily declined.

Your dad's coronation lasted a full day and you lost track of time after the second day of partying. You caught up with what few companions you actually had in Hell, ate, drank, and danced. It felt like only a couple of days had passed before you decided you'd been there long enough and sought out your father, only for him to happily send you on your way with promises that you'd visit every month. You had waved him off before going back to your rooms to change into regular clothing, and then let a swirl of flames whisk you away.

Reappearing in your house, you glance around happily until you notice it's not quite as you left it. The lights and TV, which had been turned off prior to leaving, are now on and the more you linger in the same spot it's easier to hear the noises coming from the kitchen. Quietly heading in that direction, you stop short at the sight of FP and Jughead preparing what appears to be their dinner.

"Um, hi?"

Jughead and FP's attention immediately snap to you, and Jughead quickly rounds the kitchen island. "Y/N, you're back!"

"Of course I am." You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, returning his embrace as you grin at FP over Jug's shoulder. "I told you I'd be back as soon as possible."

Jughead pulls back from you, hands on your shoulders as he keeps you at arm's length. "I know, but we thought you meant like three days tops, not two weeks!"

"What?"

You look at FP and he nods. "Sorry, babygirl, but he's telling the truth."

Your mind briefly short circuits at the nickname and you glance at Jug, smile slowly blooming. "Your dad called me-"

"Don't."

You laugh as FP snorts, shaking his head at you. "Only joking. I haven't done that in two week apparently," you say. You reach up to pat one of Jughead's hands on your shoulders and he releases. Walking over to one of the stools lined along the kitchen island, you take a seat. "And besides, you know I have my eyes on a certain tall Serpent friend of yours."

"Speaking of which," FP then says as he leans across the counter across from you, "you better text him. He's been bugging us nonstop to see if we heard from you or not."

"I will." Jughead offers you a bottle of water which you accept. "I just- I need to decompress for a little bit. Socializing in Hell kind of took it out of me."

"Well you can always join us for dinner." Jughead looks so hopeful that you actually feel a little bit bad turning him down.

"Sorry, JJ. I've been eating nonstop for days. I kind of just want to sleep it off."

"Oh. Okay sure."

"But before I head upstairs, can I just ask what you guys are doing here?"

Jughead looks like a deer in headlights at the question, so FP takes over. "Lucifer wanted us to keep an eye on the place while you were gone. Said we could crash here if we needed to and our trailer went under renovations two days ago."

"Oh. Okay." You smile at them. "Well you guys are always welcome here no matter what and just because I'm back it doesn't mean you have to leave. I welcome the company," you say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep my dad's coronation off."

"We'll keep your return under wraps, but if anyone stops by we won't lie to them."

"That's fine," you tell Jughead.

After drinking some more of your water, you decide to head upstairs. In the privacy of your room you decide to quickly change into some sleepwear before crawling into the comfort of your own bed.

Sleep finds you fairly quickly and you're not quite sure how long you've been asleep when you're suddenly awoken. The sky is completely pitch black outside your window and the house is eerily quiet. You figure it must be very early morning so it's no use getting up now, but just as your eyes close once more the sound of a chair creaking has your eyes flying open.

On your stomach, you immediately push yourself up until you're sitting on your knees and glancing around your room. "Hey. Hey, you're okay."

Your lamp clicks on and you cringe away from the sudden brightness, only to slowly open your eyes and be met with the concerned expression of possibly your favorite Serpent. "Pea?"

He grins. "The one and only."

"What are- what are you doing here?" You crawl towards the edge of the bed closest to him, sitting down so your feet touch the ground.

"Stopped by for some dinner earlier and Jughead told me you were back. FP took pity on me and let me stay until you woke up."

"So you- you watched me sleep?" Sweet Pea's smile slowly falls as yours grows. "That's kind of creepy, Pea."

"Well I didn't- I didn't know-"

You quickly lean forward, one hand gripping the armrest of the chair to hold you up and the other cradling the side of Sweet Pea's face as you angle it towards yours. You gently brush your lips against his just to test the waters before you pull back just an inch, your eyes fluttering open to gauge his reaction. Sweet Pea blinked owlishly at you before his eyes darted over every inch of your face, lastly settling on your lips as his hands came up to cradle your face and bring you back in.

Smiling against his lips, you allow him a moment of control, letting yourself get briefly carried away in one another. You nip at his bottom lip and when he groans you peck the corner of his mouth before falling back onto the edge of your bed. You lick your bottom lip before biting it sheepishly, eyes shining at a clearly distracted Sweet Pea.

"I'm not gonna lie. I've been wanting to do that for a really long time."

Gathering his wits once more, Sweet Pea scoffs. "You mean to tell me we could have been doing this since the beginning?"

"Well yeah. But I didn't wanna come off as easy."

"You.. easy? Yeah right," he chuckles. Slowly, he sobers up. "But, uh, your dad's not gonna be a problem. Right?"

You shake your head. "Nah. Believe it or not, Lucifer's a cool dad. He doesn't care what I do or who I do it with so long as it's consensual."

He seems to blanch just a little. "Of course. Always."

"Then we're good." You flash him a small smile as you scoot back into bed, tossing the blanket over your legs. "Now will you come to sleep rather than watching over me? I wasn't lying when I said it was weird." Sweet Pea readily stands to strip out of his jacket, laying it across the chair as he toes off his boots. When he starts to walk to the other side of your bed, you say, "Feel free to sleep sans jeans, but only if you're wearing underwear."

Sweet Pea smirks at you as he slowly unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of his jean's loops before tossing that on his jacket as well. You roll your eyes as he unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall, haphazardly kicking them aside before crawling into your bed.

"If that was an attempt to seduce me, you're really terrible at it." He laughs as he lays on his back, you grabbing his arm and picking it up so you can lay close to him. You're on your side, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. "But you still get an A for effort."

"I wasn't even trying, sweetheart. If I was to seduce you, you'd know it."

"Mhm. I'm sure. Now close your eyes. I have a feeling everyone's gonna be here later on."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Do- do we wake them?"

"No, you idiot, let them sleep."

A sigh. "This is going to be a regular thing now, isn't it?"

You slowly smile, the voices of Fangs, Toni, and Jughead waking you up. "You're damn straight this is going to be a regular thing." Your eyes open and you grin. "I'm going to be climbing this like a tree every chance I get." The chest beneath your cheek rumbles with sleepy laughter. You yawn, stretching at Sweet Pea's side before slowly sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," Jughead says. "Dad was going to wake you for breakfast, but he saw you and Sweet Pea and figured he'd let you sleep."

"FP is officially my second favorite Serpent," you say. With his eyes still closed, Sweet Pea smiles and you roll your eyes at his smugness. "I hope you guys have nothing planned. I just want to relax and go to school like a normal person for a few days. I'm all partied out."

"Whatever you want, girl." Toni tells you. "We're just glad you're finally back."

"You and me both."

Over the next few days, your group of friends grow used to the fact that you and Sweet Pea have officially become a thing. Neither of you are fond of the terms boyfriend/girlfriend since it sounds kind of juvenile, but you don't correct anyone when they use that particular label. As far as the two of you are concerned, you are his and he is yours, and that's enough for the two of you.

Another change that seems to have happened is at the Whyte Wyrm, your presence being a great deal more tolerated. You know no one other than a select few knew of your true heritage, so you figure one of your friends name dropped the pet name Princess and now the other Serpents boldly greet you as such, especially FP who takes great delight in calling you that once he realizes you find it annoying.

You're happy you don't have Queenly duties niggling at the back of your mind and that you can just be as normal as you can be with your friends. There are a few instances in which your powers come in handy, but you don't use them as often as you thought you would. Then as the days slowly progress and the weather turns chillier, you find that Sweet Pea is a constant presence in your home. His trailer had been updated, but while he's grateful for it he much prefers coming home to you and your house.

You and Sweet Pea are sleeping down in the basement, the lounging sofa being more comfortable for him to sleep in since he was so tall. You've already ordered a new bed, but for now the two of you happily camp down in the theatre while you wait for your bed to come in.

The doorbell ringing pulls you from your dreams and an arm tightens around your waist. Sleep starts to pull you back under seconds later until the doorbell rings again and you quietly groan.

"Don't answer it," Sweet Pea mumbles. "They'll go away."

You press back into his chest, yawning and willing yourself to fall back asleep. But whoever's at the front door is insistent and the doorbell rings for a third time. "I'm going to smite them," you grumble. "Smite them and then blissfully come back to sleep." Sweet Pea chuckles at your threat, but though you're getting annoyed for having had your sleep interrupted you don't actually do anything about it.

Seconds seem to pass and when the doorbell doesn't ring again you let your body start to relax once more. Sweet Pea curls even more against your back and you chuckle softly at the fact that one of the Serpent's most intimidating secretly loves to cuddle.

And then just as you're fully relaxing and being pulled back under, there are footsteps coming down the staircase. "I knew I'd find you guys down here."

You and Sweet Pea both groan, Jughead's amused laughter making you open your eyes and glare at the teen in question. Betty Cooper is standing just behind him, glancing around your home theatre in wonder, but you bite your tongue on questioning her presence since you know full well that she and Jughead were more stable than they've ever been.

"If you know what's best for you, JJ, you'd walk away."

"It's three in the afternoon, Y/N. You should have been awake hours ago."

"We had a late night."

"First off, ew." His nose wrinkles at you and Sweet Pea, and you, Sweet Pea, and Betty grin at Jughead's comment. "And secondly, dad sent me. We're having a meeting."

Sweet Pea seems to take those words seriously and you whine when he moves to get up. He chuckles, quickly kissing your temple and then turning to crawl out of the comfort of the sofa. You sigh. "And why, pray tell, is my presence needed?"

Jughead smirks. "You'll see."

His vague answer is enough to get you moving, you grumbling all the while. On your way upstairs, you hit Jughead with your shoulder and then smile innocently at Betty while telling her to help herself to whatever's in the kitchen while you and Sweet Pea get ready.

You and Sweet Pea take the quickest showers you've ever taken, separately, and meet Jughead and Betty in the kitchen. Sweet Pea is pulling on his jacket and you're tying your hair up into a ponytail, grinning at Jughead who has a plate of sandwiches in front of him. "So what's the deal, Jones?"

He shrugs. "M'just under orders to bring you to the quarry."

You glance at Betty and she chuckles. "I just came along for the ride. Jughead's actually dropping me off before you go to the meeting."

"I feel like I should be scared nervous, but I'm actually excited nervous." You muse. "I mean, daddy Jones-"

"God you're so gross," Jughead groans. You wink at Betty as Jughead turns to Sweet Pea. "How are you okay with your girl fawning over my dad?"

"Because everyone, including FP, knows it gets under your skin and it's fun to watch your squirm."

You look at Betty and grin. "Have I told you about the time FP called me babygirl?"

"And we're leaving!" Jughead is quick to latch onto his laughing girlfriend's wrist, tugging her out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

You turn towards Sweet Pea, wrapping your arms around his waist as you lean up on your tiptoes to play a chaste kiss to his lips. "I absolutely adore you. Now come on. Let's go see what the boss wants."

Sweet Pea pecks your lips twice more before you fall back flat on your feet, then making your way towards the hall closet. Inside, you pull free a jean jacket and quickly pull it on while Sweets grabs both your helmets. The two of you head outside to see Betty already hanging onto the back of Jughead. You and Sweet Pea readily climb onto his bike, you tucking yourself as close as you can to his back while he follows Jughead towards Betty's house.

Then once Betty's hopped off and heading towards her front door, Jughead signals for Sweet Pea to follow and you're on your way once more. The part of the quarry Jughead leads you to is not familiar to you and you're surprised to see the entire Serpent clan hanging around. And as you climb off the bike, waiting for Sweet Pea who takes your hand and then starts leading you towards your friends, you glance around to take in your surroundings.

A wooden walkway leads down to a boathouse just on the water, trucks and motorcycles parked all around. There are a couple of tapped kegs and barrels of fire scattered about. Between two wooden poles, a Serpent banner hangs just behind some stacked wooden pallets that FP hops up onto.

FP whistles, gaining everyone's attention. "Listen up now!" Some music that had been playing is lowered and everyone turns towards their leader. "I know some of you have recently had your opinions about the way I was running things with the Serpents." Some people boo and FP chuckles, instantly calming them. "Our image has never been as clean as it should have been and certain events led a few of us to make decisions that could have had repercussions against all of us." Some very brave individuals glance at Jughead and you glare at them until they look away. "But then an old friend of mine swooped in and changed everything." At this, some nervously glance at you.

"Some sixty years ago, the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same river banks. So I find it fitting that we meet here to introduce a new snake to the den." Everyone cheers this time, including you, though your amusement falls when FP meets your gaze head on. You freeze. Surely he's not talking about- "You all know about Penny, the Ghoulies, and Tall Boy attacking three of our own- my boy included. What you don't know is that girl," he points directly at you, "that girl right there is who took a knife to the gut avenging us. So Y/N Morningstar, come on up here."

Sweet Pea, Jughead, Toni, and Fangs start the whooping and hollering until the rest of the Serpents all join in. You're gripping tight to Sweet Pea's hand as he starts to drag you towards FP's platform, you nervously grinning at the Serpents who part down the middle to give you a path.

At the makeshift stage, Sweet Pea then nudges you up there and you chuckle nervously as you stand next to FP. He smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close while addressing the crowd again. "The Morningstars, while some of you were against it at first, helped clean up the Serpent image and helped improve the Southside when even our own mayor had given up on us. They've been a tremendous help to us and it all started with an act of kindness from one of the Serpents which then led to my release. So with that said, Jughead will you come on up and do the honors?"

You look out at Jughead, brow furrowing as Toni smirks at you while handing a duffel bag over to the boy in question. He unzips it, pulling free what looks to be a cherry red leather jacket. He holds it, scrunched up in one hand, as he makes his way to the platform. "What's going on?" You mutter.

FP releases you just as Jughead takes his place by your side. He's smiling as he inhales deeply, letting out it loudly before addressing the rest of the Serpents. "When Lucifer left, he asked my dad and I to look after his precious little princess." You scoff, punching Jughead's arm much to everyone's amusement. "And I know some of you are going to say that that's why we've decided to welcome Y/N into the Serpents, but the reason why we're welcoming Y/N into the fold is because she earned her place. She took a knife for us and got rid of our enemies once and for all. I don't know about you, but to my dad and I that makes her worthy of being a Serpent."

Sweet Pea is the first to whoop, followed by the rest of your friends and the crowd of Serpents lingering about.

"So what do you say, Morningstar? Will you don the Serpent jacket and put the fear of the devil into any person who dares smear the name of your brethren?" He asks while grabbing the cherry red jacket with both hands and shaking it open.

You smirk at him, already stripping out of your jean jacket. "As if you even had to ask."

You toss your jacket to Sweet Pea and stand in front of Jughead, placing your arms into the sleeves one at a time. It fits perfectly, Toni's doing no doubt, and you laugh openly at the roar of applause. Turning around, you hug Jughead and then walk over towards FP to offer him the same embrace.

"Who picked the color?" You ask.

"Who do you think?" He muses.

"Dad."

FP releases you with a grin, nudging you towards your friends. "Go on. We'll be celebrating tonight at the Whyte Wyrm."

You offer him one of your genuine smiles instead of the teasing one you usually reserve for him. "Thanks, FP. For everything."

"No problem, kiddo. Now seriously, go. Go have a burger and a shake at Pop's with your friends."

As you turn to hop off the platform, Toni is the first to wrap you up in a hug. "Welcome to the club! You're seriously lucky you didn't have to do the dance."

"I'd have seriously gouged someone's eye out if anyone suggested I do the dance to earn my place."

She laughs and then Fangs takes her place, you hugging him back. Then finally Sweet Pea is standing in front of you and he laughs as you jump into his arms.

"Happy, princess?"

"Ecstatic," you muse as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands find your ass, supporting your weight as you quickly lean in to kiss him. More cheers erupt all around you, you and Sweet Pea smile against each other's mouths, and Jughead gags behind you. Pulling back, you lay your forehead against his. "Wanna grab some food or go properly celebrate at home before tonight's party at the Wyrm?"

"How about we hit up Pop's for burgers to go, burn off some calories before consuming them right back in the comfort of our own home, and then go to the Wyrm?"

"I like the way you think, Pea. Let's go."

You kiss him once more, Toni cheering you on as Sweet Pea carries you off.

"Just please don't contaminate the basement!" Jughead yells out. "I actually like it down there!"

You wave him off over your shoulder, grinning at Pea. "Who's going to tell him he's a few weeks too late? Me or you?"

"I wanna tell him when he least expects it. Probably when he's laying on the sofa and being a little shit."

"Deal."

#riverdale imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #sweet pea #toni topaz #fangs fogarty #jughead jones #fp jones #lucifer morningstar

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nicknellie · 4 years

Text

@over-under-through1 requested: I was wondering if you could do a modern au/nobody dies with Willex and a sleepover/sort of comfort?

Okay, so in my professional opinion, this is probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever written. Thank you for suggesting it, I hope you like it!

Title from All You’re Dreaming Of by Liam Gallagher.

Underneath the Moon

For the first time in almost eighteen years, Alex had the house to himself for an entire night. His father was away on a work trip, some head-office-organised bonding experience he’d been less than excited about; his mother was out of the state entirely, having a girls’ weekend with her four sisters; and his little sister was staying at his aunt and uncle’s house while both parents were away because as responsible as Alex was, he was only seventeen and his parents hadn’t been foolish enough to leave him in charge of a twelve-year-old who had a tendency to dodge rules.

Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited – having free rule of the house felt like a dream come true. The moment he was alone, he had quietly broken every rule that had ever been set out for him: he had worn his shoes in the living room, rested his feet on the furniture, eaten ice cream straight out of the tub, watched a horror movie, and stood in the middle of the living room bellowing curse words for half an hour for no other reason than that there was nobody to stop him. They were petty acts of rebellion, sure, but to Alex they felt freeing and supremely satisfying.

His plan was to have a party. Well, not a party party – there was no way he’d be able to clean up all that mess before his father got home, and having so many people in the house would scare the living daylights out of him. The party would consist of just him and his closest friends having fun together, eating pizza and playing Just Dance and probably sleeping through most of it.

He opened up the group chat which consisted of him, his boyfriend Willie, and his best friends Luke, Reggie, Julie, Carrie, and Flynn. After typing out an invitation for them all, he read it through more times than he could count to make sure all the information was right. But before he could hit send, his phone buzzed with a notification from Willie.

Abandoning his own text, Alex opened up his private chat with just Willie. The text read: I’m feeling a little fragile, do you mind if we hang out?

Usually when Willie felt down it was something to do with his adoptive father, Caleb. They argued a lot, Alex knew, but Willie was normally quite closed off about the whole situation – Alex figured he would talk about it more when he was ready, so he had never pried.

He opened up the group chat and deleted his long message, thankful he hadn’t sent it, before going back to his conversation with Willie. Alex shot back a quick reply asking if Willie wanted to spend the night at his place before he could overthink or regret it.

Alex had stayed over at Willie’s a few times but never on purpose. He often fell asleep while they were having a movie marathon because being wrapped in Willie’s arms like that was sinfully comfortable and Willie radiated heat, so it was easy to doze off. He would wake up in the morning groggy and with no clothes to change into and no toothbrush to use. And Willie hardly ever came to Alex’s house because it was easier for them if they avoided his parents, so he’d never been able to spend the night.

But his parents weren’t here and Willie could be and this time Alex could plan to be with him all night.

Willie replied with an affirmative a moment later and Alex began the slightly unnecessary task of making the house look presentable. There wasn’t a lot to do; his mother had made sure everything was tidy before she had left for the airport, and Alex hadn’t made too much of a mess in his rule-breaking spree earlier. All he needed to do was straighten a few cushions and clear away a few plates and bowls he hadn’t taken to the kitchen earlier.

It was getting dark by the time Willie arrived. Alex could always tell when Willie was at the door because he didn’t ring the doorbell like any normal person, he held the button down and let it ring until somebody answered. It drove Alex’s parents round the bend, which was half the reason Alex found it so endearing.

Willie did the same that night, holding down the button and letting the shrill chime of the doorbell draw Alex to him. When Alex opened the door, Willie was looking up at him with a smile on his face and his board tucked under his arm.

“Hey hotdog,” he greeted, standing up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “Good day?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, wrapping him in a one-armed hug and pulling him inside the threshold of the house. “How about you?”

Willie shrugged evasively. “Great now that I’m with you.”

Alex smiled in return, shut the door behind him, then took Willie’s hand and led him to the living room. They plonked themselves down on the sofa and Willie automatically curled himself around Alex like a koala.

This had been what Alex was expecting – when Willie was down, he did his best to cover it up. He hid his sadness behind avoidance and false smiles, but little gestures (like holding Alex so tightly that he thought he might actually burst) were what gave him away.

Willie picked up the remote and flicked the TV on, landing on a David Attenborough documentary. His eyes were trained on the television like it was all he ever wanted to see, which was how Alex knew that there was something he was avoiding talking about.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting Willie’s head to face him with two fingers under his chin. “You sure you’re okay?”

Willie swallowed but clearly decided lying wasn’t worth it, giving a short shrug. “I don’t know. It’s just been a long day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex pressed carefully. “Because if you do then I’m more than happy to listen.”

He was given a weak smile in return. “Not tonight. Maybe just help me cheer up?”

“Of course,” Alex said, nodding. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, first I want to do this – sit and talk with you. Then I thought we could make cookies, I even brought the ingredients for that amazing recipe you made for my birthday.” He nodded down to a plastic carrier bag that Alex hadn’t seen before, placed down by their feet – he could see an ungodly amount of chocolate in it and couldn’t help but smile. “And I want to sleep with you.”

Alex short-circuited. He had not been expecting that. His face flushed and his mouth bobbed open and closed in a half smile – he didn’t think he could form words anymore.

“Oh, wait, that sounded wrong,” Willie said hurriedly. Alex breathed a little easier. “Not like that. No, I just meant I want to sleep next to you, you know, together. Like I said, it’s been a long day.”

“Right,” Alex said, half-relieved. “Right, okay, that makes more sense.”

Willie giggled – that was always an unfair thing to do because it was guaranteed to make Alex lose his mind – and rested his head on Alex’s shoulder. “I love you, hotdog.”

“I love you too.”

They stayed curled together on the sofa until the documentary finished, Alex gently weaving his fingers through Willie’s hair, Willie clinging to Alex like his life depended on it. It was calm and quiet and hardly anything like what Alex had previously planned for that night, but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

As soon as the credits began to roll, though, Willie was up out of his seat, had picked up the bag of ingredients and was making his own way to the kitchen. “Come on, hotdog,” he called over his shoulder, “I’m hungry.”

Smiling fondly, Alex followed him to the kitchen and pulled from a shelf the old recipe book he had used a hundred times as a kid. He used to bake with his mother when he was little because they both enjoyed it and they had fun together – they still baked together every now and then, but it was filled with stony silences rather than banter and the only time either of them spoke was when they asked the other to pass them something.

Still, Alex enjoyed baking and he always would, and it had become his favourite pastime with Willie now. Willie was hopeless in a kitchen, but Alex was a whizz and the combination led to mediocre results – the end product didn’t matter, Alex thought, as long as he and Willie had fun making it.

It didn’t take long for things to descend into chaos, as was to be expected when Willie was placed in a kitchen.

“Willie,” Alex said, reaching for exasperation to cover up the adoration in his voice, “if you keep eating the chocolate chips then there won’t be any left to put in the cookies.”

“Don’t worry,” Willie said dismissively. “I bought plenty, there’s still three bags left.”

“We only need one bag for the cookies, why did you buy so many?”

“To eat,” Willie replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Alex tried to look unimpressed but quickly gave up when Willie fed him a chocolate chip, beaming, and he simply had to smile.

The smile had vanished when he’d smelled burning.

“Is something on fire?” he asked, peering past Willie to the cooker.

There was no fire, thankfully, but the chocolate that Willie had been melting was quickly turning black and sticky and it stank of smoke. Willie let out a curse that would have sent Alex’s mother running for the hills and tried to salvage it in vain, scraping at the sides of the bowl with a spatula, trying to un-burn the chocolate.

To top it off, the smoke alarm started beeping.

“Okay,” Alex said, steering Willie away from the stovetop and handing him a tea towel. “You go wave that at the alarm until it stops beeping, I’ll sort out the chocolate.”

Willie did as he was told, whipping the tea towel around his head like a lasso as he made his way out to the hallway to fight the fire alarm, and Alex turned the heat down on the stove, gently removing the bowl of chocolate. He disposed of it easily enough, but there was some fused to the cooker, so he scrubbed at it to get it off. By the time he’d done as much as he could, there was still a small stain, but it was hardly noticeable. As Willie came back, Alex started melting the chocolate himself.

“Sorry,” Willie said, slipping his arms around Alex’s waist from behind. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine,” Alex replied, awkwardly turning his head to place a kiss on the tip of Willie’s nose. “It just means you get one less bag of chocolate chips to eat – I’m using them for this.”

Willie groaned and buried his head between Alex’s shoulder blades, mumbling something about life being so unfair. Alex shook with suppressed laughter.

Alex took over control of the cookies from then on, at Willie’s insistence. It wasn’t the easiest of tasks because Willie refused to let go of him, so whenever he needed to move around the kitchen he had to employ an awkward shuffle so that Willie could come too. Still, by the end they had a fresh, warm, gooey batch of heavily chocolatey cookies and the grin on Willie’s face was worth all the hassle.

Alex watched him take his first bite and smiled proudly as Willie’s eyes closed in contentedness. “Good?” he checked.

“I am so in love with you,” Willie replied. Alex wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or the cookie, but he took it as a win.

They found themselves sprawled on the sofa again, the cookies and a half-eaten packet of chocolate chips between them. They ate in comfortable silence – Alex was conscious that it was almost ten o’clock and that it would be a good idea to go to bed soon and that people weren’t supposed to eat before sleeping, but he ignored those niggling thoughts. He enjoyed simply being with Willie, together in his house for once and happy.

Willie was the one to break the silence.

“I was arguing with Caleb earlier,” he said, looking at the cookies instead of Alex.

“Yeah?” Alex said, careful to keep his voice level. “About what?”

“He wants me to start doing shows at the club again,” Willie sighed. “I thought we agreed months ago that after I turned eighteen I wouldn’t have to do the shows if I didn’t want to. And I don’t want to. But he says that apparently the crowd miss me and I should come back.”

“That sucks,” Alex said, hating how lame it sounded. “I’m sorry. Are you still looking for your own place?”

“There’s practically nowhere in my price range,” Willie said, “but I’m supposed to be viewing an apartment next week that might be doable.”

Alex tried for a smile, reached over and held Willie’s hand. “Well, if it works out then you can move out and you’ll be free. No more guilt trips, no Caleb – you won’t even have to think about going back to the club.”

Willie smiled weakly. “Will you come and view the apartment with me?”

“If you want me to then of course I will. Anything, Willie.”

With one last tiny smile, Willie dropped the subject and finished the last bite of his cookie before checking the time. Alex didn’t miss him stifle a yawn.

“Come on,” he said, tugging Willie’s hand and pulling him up. “You’re tired, let’s go to bed.”

Willie didn’t look too enthusiastic about being made to sleep, but he didn’t protest. While Alex got changed in his bedroom, Willie got ready for bed in the bathroom. Suddenly Alex wasn’t sure how all this worked – was it weird for him to be waiting in the bed when Willie entered the room? Surely it was weirder if he was just stood next to it awkwardly and only got under the covers when Willie came in? Maybe, he thought, he should try to make himself look busy so that he wouldn’t seem strange when Willie came in. He tried it, rummaging around in his chest of drawers, but then realised that if Willie asked what he was looking for he wouldn’t have an answer.

He stopped, took a deep breath, and just climbed into the bed. He picked up his phone and scrolled through social media, just for something to do with his hands. Maybe that would look more natural anyway.

When Willie came into the bedroom, he jumped beneath the bedcovers like it was all he had been wanting to do all day, curling around Alex, resting his head on his chest and his hands on his abdomen. Alex put his phone down and pulled Willie closer, hands clasped around his back. He had no idea why he had been worried about this – doing anything with Willie felt natural and safe, why should this have been any different?

“Thank you for everything, Alex,” Willie said softly.

“It was my pleasure,” Alex returned, burying his face in Willie’s hair. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

Willie laughed. It sent shivers down Alex’s spine. “Yeah. I know. Goodnight, hotdog.”

“Goodnight, love.”

But Alex couldn’t sleep. He tried, he really did. For whatever reason, he lay there for hours, unable to drift off. Maybe it was having Willie so close, knowing he would stay that close for a long time. Maybe it was the summer air drifting through his open window, warm and soft even though it was nearing midnight. Maybe it was the fact that he’d gone against his gut and eaten those cookies right before sleeping. Whatever it was, Alex couldn’t sleep.

He moved his head to look at Willie, the tiniest movement possible, and saw that Willie’s eyes were open too.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, tracing Willie’s cheekbone gently with his thumb.

Willie shook his head. “Can you?”

“No,” Alex returned. Then he had an idea. “Wanna do something cool?”

Willie beamed and the two of them clambered out of bed. Alex picked up his duvet then crossed the room to his half-open window and wrenched it open completely. Because of the layout of Alex’s house, his bedroom window led directly onto a gently sloped section of roof. He hoisted himself through the window, then did the gentlemanly thing of helping Willie through too (though he was more than certain Willie could have managed it on his own, more gracefully than Alex had too).

Alex laid the duvet down on the roof like a picnic blanket, sat himself down and patted the space next to him for Willie to join him. The night wasn’t cold – it was summer, so the warm air danced across their faces, keeping them cosy and comfortable while they lay together underneath the moon, watching the stars and the deep night sky.

“I come out here sometimes,” Alex said softly, “because it feels lonely. Not in a bad way, just… it feels so far away from everything and everyone. It’s nice to just be alone sometimes.”

Willie hummed, a gentle response that settled some deep unnameable worry inside Alex’s chest. He softened, melted against Willie, relaxed.

They stayed there for hours, Willie pointing out constellations and giving them names and stories that Alex was almost certain were made up (“That’s Lord Crumpet, he vanquished the dreaded army of Abominable Snow Crabs which is why he has a pincer for a hand.”). It was simply nice.

Once Willie started to yawn, the ends of his nonsense sentences lost to his exhaustion, they crawled back in through the window and back into bed. Warm, close, cuddled, both of them were asleep within seconds.

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