#this has been in my wips too long and i need it DONE before i improve anymore

[jesterwaves]

he's listening to abba :)

[pathologicalreid]

stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.

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You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.

Spencer

It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.

Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.

Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.

“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”

Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”

He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”

Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”

“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.

Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”

Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.

“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.

Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.

Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”

Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.

He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.

Finally, he sat down.

“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”

Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.” He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.

After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.

He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.

You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.

Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.

Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”

In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.

It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.

“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.

Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”

She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”

“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.

Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”

Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”

Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”

“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.

Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?

The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.

A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.

“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.

Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.

In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.

Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”

He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”

“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”

He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”

Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.

To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”

Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”

“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.

Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.

Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.

Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.

He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.

You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”

Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”

Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.

The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.

All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.

The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.

Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.

“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”

Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.

You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”

“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.

You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”

Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”

The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.

She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.

But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”

“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.

It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”

Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.

Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”

Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.

The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.

That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.

Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.

Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”

You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.

A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.

“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.

Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”

Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.

“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.

Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.

Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”

“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation. 

Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.

You

When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.

He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.

Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”

It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.

“At least through the night, but it could be longer,” he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.

You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.

None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.

Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.

He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”

He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.

Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.

The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.

You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”

As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.

Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”

Three days ago...

You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.

Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.

It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.

Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.

When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.

The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.

Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.

Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your fa��ade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.

You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.

“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.

In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”

You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.

He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.

Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”

You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”

“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.

Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”

And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.

“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.

At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.

Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.

Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”

Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.

Present

“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.

You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.

Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”

“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.

Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”

Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.

“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.

In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”

You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”

He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.

“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”

You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”

Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”

Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.

He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”

“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.

Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”

The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.

“Spencer,” you repeated his name.

He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”

“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”

Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.

In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.

As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.

You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.

He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”

“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”

You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.

“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.

Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.

The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”

Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.

Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”

A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.

“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.

You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.

He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.

“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.

Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”

“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.

You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”

He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”

Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”

“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”

There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.

Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.

Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.

“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”

Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”

Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.

“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.

You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.

Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”

After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.

Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.

You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.

Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.

Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“

“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”

She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.

Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”

Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.

“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”

Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”

“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”

You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”

She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”

Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”

You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.

“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”

Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.

Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”

“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”

Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.

“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.

Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.

“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.

Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”

When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.

Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.

“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.

Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”

You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”

There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”

Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”

next

please remember to like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed :-)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate. 

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs. 

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides. 

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.  

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.  

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.” 

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks. 

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you? 

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that. 

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder. 

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?” 

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.” 

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.” 

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long. 

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful. 

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down. 

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there. 

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?” 

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point. 

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.” 

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.” 

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.” 

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?” 

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other. 

“Be honest,” he insists. 

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out. 

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?” 

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong. 

“Erm, purple, I guess but--” 

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?” 

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely. 

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.” 

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.” 

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh. 

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.” 

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.” 

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.” 

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?” 

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily. 

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.” 

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.” 

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.” 

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.” 

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?” 

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles. 

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out. 

“Last one?” You whisper. 

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.” 

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.” 

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.” 

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.” 

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?” 

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin. 

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says. 

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.” 

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.” 

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same. 

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps. 

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain. 

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser. 

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here. 

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you. 

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.  

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs. 

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception. 

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not. 

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door. 

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip. 

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...” 

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. 

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?” 

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?” 

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.” 

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away. 

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.” 

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.” 

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else. 

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.” 

[redr0sewrites]

Practice~

the long awaited "riding sanemi's abs" WIP lmao!!!

🥀Summary: Reader is inexperienced with riding dick, so Sanemi teaches her to ride his abs first...

🥀Cw: smut, reader is afab, ab riding, dry humping, dirty talk, one use of the word master towards the end, etc-

🥀minors dni

"What?!" Sanemi choked on his drink, crashing the glass down onto the table in front of him and causing you to startle. "You're seriously telling me you've never rode dick before?" You flushed at his bold question, looking around to make sure nobody heard your lovers' comment. "Yes! Is that not what i just said? And keep it down, will you? I don't want the entire bar to know im inexperienced!" You hiss, watching as Sanemi's mouth spreads in a shit-eating grin.

"You have have to be fucking with me, a pretty doll like you has never gotten the chance to ride? Fuck this, we're going home now," he immediately pulled out his wallet, rifling through photos of the both of you and placing a sum of cash on the countertop.

"Hey!" You squeak, gasping when Sanemi hooks your arm through his and leads you through the swarm of people towards the door. "You- Sanemi! We can't just leave!"

"Why not? I think we have some more important things to do, hm?" You curse under your breath as Sanemi drags you out into the cold night air. You watch as the bar fades behind you, and you subconsciously lean in closer to your boyfriend, inhaling the delicious scent of his cologne. A rush of wind makes you shiver, and Sanemi rid himself of his haori, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Don't catch a cold," he murmurs, gently placing a rough hand on your back as he hurries down the street.

You and Sanemi had only been together for a few months, yet you already felt safe with him. As you turned off of the main road and up towards his estate, Sanemi's thumb began to trace soft circles through your clothing and onto your back. "We're almost home~" he whispers in your ear, and your stomach flips. "I- Nemi, I don't think I should ride you just yet.." Sanemi pauses in the middle of the pathway and pulls you close. "I won't make you do anything you're not comfortable with, but may i ask why?"

Another harsh wind makes you shiver, leaning closer to his face until both of your noses are almost touching. "I've just never done this before, and i need practice.. I don't want to go all the way home only to disappoint you..." Sanemi studies your face carefully, one hand cupping your face while the other wrapped around your lower back. "You could never disappoint me baby, ya hear? Besides, theres other things to ride than my dick," he smirked, relishing in your shocked expression. "Wanna ride my abs first?"

You blink, taking in his request. "Is that even possible?"

"Sure is. And, with enough practice, you can ride my cock next~" Heat pooled in your core at his words, and you nodded. Sanemi laughed, the both of you hurrying down the path.

🥀

Sanemi fumbled with the door, and the second the both of you were inside he pressed the both of you against the wall. "Keep this on," he murmured in your hear, tugging his haori that still rested on your shoulders. You nod slowly, wrapping your legs around his torso as he presses shameful kisses to your neck. "Bed?" You question softly, and Sanemi grins, picking you up and bringing you to the bedroom. You gasp as your back hits the mattress, and Sanemi crawls on top of you. Instinctivel, your legs wrap around his waist, buckling your hips up against his and Sanemi tuts disapprovingly.

"Your in control tonight, mmkay? Whatever you say goes, doll. If you feel uncomfortable at any point just let me know. Do you remember the safeword?" You nod, and Sanemi grins, rubbing your thighs reassuringly. He pulls his own shirt off, tossing aside and revealing his toned chess. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes wandering to the toned abs and thin white happy trail just above the waistline of his pants, and then just a but lower...

"Don't get too ambitious," Sanemi cooed, pulling your own shirt of your head so your top half was bare, except for the haori you had donned earlier. His rough hands hooked under the waist of your pants and underwear. Sanemi looked up at you questioningly, and you nodded. In one swift movement, he pulled down your bottoms, leaving you bare. You squirmed under his intense gaze, and he leans down, breath fanning over your wet cunt. Your hips jolt upwards, but steady hands pin them down. You pout and Sanemi smirks, delivering a soft slap to your clit and making you squeal. Grinning, he flips himself over onto his back, dragging you so that your straddling his stomach. Testing the waters, you squirm, grinding down slowly against his abdomen as his hands fondled your ass. You begin to move in a steady pace, circling your hips over his toned muscles and scars as he admired you from below. Sanemi thought you looked absolutely delectable like this, face flushed as you bit down on your lip in determination.

"Yea, just like that baby. You're a natural~" He praised, encouraging you to rock against him more. You leaned forward, steadying yourself on his chest and grinding down again. His toned muscles rippled beneath your soaked pussy, your folds fluttering and sliding over his firm abdomen as pleasure clouded your mind. Sanemi flexed his abs and you let out a loud moan as your clit rocked against his stomach, lurching forward as your pace increased.

The sight of Sanemi spread out below you, hair tousled and chest heaving only made you feel even more wet. A pink hue dusted his cheeks and ears, and sweat dripped between his toned chest. The haori- his haori kept brushing against your skin, only enhancing your pleasure as Sanemi kneaded your ass. You let out a mewl of pain as he delivered a soft slap to the flesh of your ass, your juices soaking his abs even more as the sticky fluids only aided you in grinding against him.

Soft squelching filled the room as you moaned louder and louder, hips grinding faster as you throw your head back in pleasure. Sanemi's rough hands find purchase on your hips, helping you rut against him as his abs flex below you.

"Think ya can take my cock next?" Sanemi smirked below you, arching his back and making you mewl in pleasure as his toned muscles rubbed against your clit. "Shit," he groaned, one hand moving to rub slow circles on your pearl as the coil in your stomach tightened. "Your fucking soaked, doll. Gonna cum on me, yeah? Like a bitch in heat?"

"P-please!" Tears prickled your lashline as you felt your release building slowly. Your cunt fluttered with every thrust of your hips, and Sanemi began to geind upwards, enhancing your pleasure even more. You could feel his cock straining through his pants and pressing against your ass, his arousal only spurring you on.

"m' so close Nemi, ple- anghh, please, i needa- im gonna cum, fuuuckngh-" you mewled, hips rolling desperately as you climax rippled through you. Sanemi's thumb continued circling your clit as you rode out your high, juices squirting across his stomach. You collapsed forward against his chest, panting as your cunt spasmed in pleasure for a few more seconds.

Sanemi brushed the hair out of your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You did so well for me dolly, so, so well for your master." You whimpered in reply, squirming in your own slick as you buried your head into the crook of his neck. "I made a mess through.." you whisper, taking one of his hands from your hip and bringing it to rest over the sticky juices coating his stomach. Wordlessly he scooped up some onto his fingers and brought them to his lips, licking them clean instantly. Sanemi moaned at your taste, and scooped up some more, bringing it to your own lips. "Fuck baby, you squirted all over me. We have to do that again~"

might do a part 2 w sanemi teaching reader to actually ride his dick if this does well~ ALSO SORRY FOR POSTING THIS SO LATE AT NIGHT LMFAO I GOT HORNY

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Gorgeous

kai parker x reader (both 18+!) (shy!virgin!kai)

summary: troubled by his own body, kai's afraid to go all the way with you. that is, until you confess you love him regardless of the way he looks, giving him just the confidence he's needed all along.

tags: friends to lovers, kissing, minor fingering, shy!kai, mentions of child abuse / physical abuse [I can't just write a normal fic, can I?], implied s3lf h4rm, emotional hurt / comfort, confessions, making out, blow jobs, virgin!kai, top / bottom switching, reader is a little freaky, nipple sucking, pet names, aftercare, cuddling

word count: 5.5k

a/n: sooooo... this has been sitting in my wips for over a year. for some reason, i just never posted it. but unfortunately, i have work tomorrow, so i'll be dead as a doornail that evening, and the work i wanted to post isn't done yet, so i'll post this in the meantime. that being said, i think i'm finally starting to get back in the swing of things. i'm still working on requests as well as other stuff, but i'm coming back slowly!

also, if this idea is totally unusual, that's probably why it sat in my drafts for a year. it's a year old fluffy smut with a strange premise. bare with me. 😅

The minute you get back from work, you collapse onto the nearest chair and groan.

“You okay there?”

Looking up, you see Jo and her boyfriend on the couch watching a movie. Oops.

“Sorry. Yeah. Long day. Where is everyone?”

“Our dads went to the flooding company people to try and get that situation covered, and our moms took the kids to the park.”

“My brother too?”

“Your brother, but not mine.”

“Cool,” you give the girl a thumbs up. “Hey Cody.”

Jo’s boyfriend looks over at you, “hey, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay!”

You make your way up the stairs slowly, wondering where Kai is. Poking your head in his room, you see he’s not in there, but you don’t hear him anywhere else. Oh well. You’ll find him after your shower, because you really, really need that shower. 

In your room - also the Parker’s guest room - you grab a new set of clothes and your hairbrush, before going into the guest bathroom in the hallway. See, you and the Parkers are neighbors and have become close family friends. Though one night after a really bad storm, your basement flooded, as did several other houses nearby. This is a problem Mr. Parker could easily fix with magic, but considering the electric and flooding companies know your house was one of the ones affected, he can’t do anything without revealing his coven. Instead, your family temporarily moved in with his until the county could fix the issue.

It’s been two weeks, no progress. But you’re not complaining; you get to spend more time with Kai - your best friend who you’ve recently started dating in secret. 

As you’re busy undressing and getting the water ready, you don’t hear Kai come in from outside. The boy stands in the kitchen, staring at nothing in particular.

“Is everyone still out?” He hesitantly asks Jo.

“Yeah. But Y/N came home.”

“Oh. Where is she?”

“Mhm, went upstairs.” Then she snaps her fingers, “oh wait! She said she’s taking a shower. So don’t bother her. Just go to your room and wait for her to come out. Don’t be weird.”

Kai scrunches his nose. As if he’d ever make you uncomfortable on purpose. “Okay, thanks.”

Quietly, he makes his way upstairs. When he hears the water running, he bites his lip. Don’t be weird, Jo had just said. But she doesn’t know how close you two actually are. Swallowing hard, he slowly turns the knob to the bathroom door, trying not to alert Jo to which door he’s opening. Inside, the hot water steams up the mirrors, making it hard to see, but he can vaguely point out your figure through the glass. 

“Y/N?”

You hear him and pop your head out of the door, “Kai! Hi. Come in,” you gesture for him to enter all the way.

He does, then shuts the door just as quietly. “I don’t mean to bug you, I just wanted to make sure you were here. Jo said you were, but…” he shrugs.

“You’re not bugging. Come on, join me.”

“What?”

“In here.”

“But… I’m wearing jeans.”

“Well then take them off, you goof.”

“I-I… um.”

Deciding to give him privacy, you stick your head back in the shower and rinse out the shampoo. The whole time you’re finishing your shower routine, you assume Kai’s going to join you at any time. You haven’t gone that far in your relationship yet, but he is a teenage boy, and he does love kissing you every chance he gets.

You two have done more than kissing, of course, but just haven’t gone all the way. And there’s plenty of reasons for that: too many people in this damn house, someone might walk in, someone might overhear, etc. etc. etc. But aside from the obvious reasons, you can’t help but feel like there’s also reasons that Kai isn’t sharing. 

He likes to spend a lot of your time together practically worshipping your body. His lips and fingers have touched nearly every part of you, but he isn’t too keen on letting you do the same. 

Kai holds you in place with a hand on your neck. His lips are attached right below, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand’s busy farther down - two fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. You bite your lip hard to not moan as you cum on his hands. He continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm, not letting up until your body stills. Then, he tastes one finger before putting the second in your mouth. You suck on it, eyes trained on him the whole time. 

“My turn. Let me make you feel good, Kai.”

“You are. I like watching you like this.”

“No, I know. But I want to taste you, too. Let me blow you.”

Kai bites his lip as if he’s having an internal debate. “Isn’t this so much better, though?” Before you can say anything else, he kisses you, feeling his hands up and down the sides of your body as he does. “Now let me cuddle you, m’kay? Let me take care of you.”

You’re too overwhelmed in pleasure to fight, and succumb to his open arms. Minutes later, you’re both asleep. 

You don’t pry if he tells you ‘no’ the first time, but of course, you can’t help but wonder why he’s never let you even see his body. 

“Take your shirt off, why am I the only one exposed?” You joke, pulling at the hem.

“Hmph, no, baby, I’m too focused on you,” he says. 

Every time. He won’t even take his bracelets off, let alone any of his clothes. Again, you don’t push him - he’ll take that step when he’s ready - but you really want to pleasure him the same way he does you. And besides, he just has to be hot under there; his face is insanely attractive, arms are strong, and figure is lean. You’re dying to know. 

“Y/N?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts.

“Mhm?”

“I, um, actually nevermind.”

“You okay, angel?”

“Yeah, just…”

Done with your shower, you turn off the water and grab your towel. You would just go out nude despite him there, but you know the air will be cold, so you wrap the blue cloth around your body. “Well now I’m done.” Carefully, you open the door and step off the slippery floor.

In front of you, Kai is standing awkwardly. His jeans are still on, but his shirt is off and folded neatly on the bathroom counter. You gulp the minute you see his body for the first time. As you expected, he’s lean and rather well-toned for someone not allowed out of his house much. His arms have some muscle to them, and you can see several prominent veins close to the surface of his skin. What catches your eye most, however, is the sharp v-line shaping his hips, leading to somewhere still hidden from your sight. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Kai swallows hard. His eyes are red. You don’t notice the signs of discomfort, though, until a small sigh escapes his lips. 

You narrow your eyes when you hear him. “What's wrong, pumpkin?” Hurrying towards him, you cup the sides of his face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“Hate my body.”

“What do you mean? You’re gorgeous, Kai.”

“All the ew, all the stupid… everything.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t see anything ‘ew’.”

“Look closer.”

“Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable, I won’t.”

“Just do it.”

Nervous, you step back to look at him closer. “Oh,” you mutter, suddenly saddened. Discolored skin in shades of green, yellow, and purple. Bruises, new and old. Handprints, whip marks, slaps from an open palm, all fading from red. Then there are the cuts, up and down his arms, some on his stomach, some on his shoulders. Clearly self-inflicted, though the bruises were all clearly marks of abuse. 

“Now you see how ugly I really am.”

“No, no, Kai…” Gently, you run a finger across a row of evidential abuse. He flinches a little and you can’t help the tear that falls from your eyes. “You’re still gorgeous, baby.”

“Hm,” he mutters, shaking his head ‘no’.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I promise. You are still beautiful to me. And I still want you, I still want every inch of your body. You don’t have to hide from me. Hey, I have some, too.”

You peel the towel away a bit to expose several cuts along your upper arm. 

He sniffs, “those weren’t there the other day.”

“I know, baby. But yesterday was really hard with my dad, and this was the only way I could think of to cope.”

Kai remembers yesterday. Your dad had forced you to go out with him to visit different universities in the area. By the time you both got back, he was fuming and you were holding back tears. 

“He got pissed at me when I said I didn’t want to go to college. He asked me why I was the family failure, and why I couldn’t be more like him.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay, now that I’m back beside you.”

“He’s a dick. Your brother’s a dick.”

“My point is, Kai, that we have a lot of the same scars. You don’t think I’m any less beautiful because of them, so why should you think that about yourself?”

“Because I also have bruises from my fucking dad.”

“That’s not your fault, baby. Your dad is an even bigger dick than mine. And just because you have wounds on your body from his hand doesn’t mean I don’t love you or your body any less.”

Kai freezes, “you love me?”

You then freeze, too. “I, um…” Then you realize that that confession may be exactly what he needs to hear. “Yes. I do love you, Kai.”

Tears that were welling in his eyes are now falling, “why?”

“Why? Why not? Because on top of being absolutely gorgeous, you’re an amazing friend and boyfriend. You’re sweet and gentle and trying your best despite the awful circumstances you’ve been given. You’re always there through the good and bad, and I could never get tired of being with you.”

“Can I admit that I love you, too?”

You smile and nod happily before leaning in quickly to kiss him. Amidst your excitement, your towel falls from your body, and your breasts rub up against his bare chest. Kai lets out a moan at the contact, but then separates from the kiss to cover his mouth with his hand. You just raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Feel good?”

Instead of answering, his hands find your breasts and feel them. His eyes roll back in his head. “So soft,” he mutters.

“Kai?”

“Hm?”

“Does this mean I can see you now?”

“Um, I, n- uh-” he stutters over every word. 

“You know what? It’s okay. Later?”

“Okay.”

“Sounds good. And I hate to say it, but we have to stop,” you pause to pull on your panties and jeans, “because Jo will start getting suspicious soon,” you have to ignore Kai’s pouting face as you put on your bra, “and she doesn’t need to see us like this, because she’ll tell your dad.” Your shirt is on next, “and then my dad. And then you’ll get hurt.” He watches you pull your hair out from under your shirt and flip it to curl around your face, “and you’re not getting hurt on my watch. Okay?”

Kai nods, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pumpkin.” You two share another kiss before leaving the bathroom. Kai grabs his shirt on the way out, fumbling to put it on, along with his multiple bracelets. “Downstairs? I need some water.”

“Sure.”

The minute you reach the last step, Jo calls out to you, “did Kai find you?”

“Yeah, he’s here.”

“Okay. He came in a little bit after you went up. I told him you were in the shower, but not to bother you. He listened to me, right?”

“He didn’t bother me at all. Was very gentlemanly and waited in his room for me to come out.” You wink at Kai as you lie straight to Jo’s turned face. Luckily, she’s fixated on the movie. 

“Okay, good.”

“I’m just going to get a drink and then we’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

◇◇◇◇

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s a huge festival, it’s a lot of fun,” Mr. Parker asks one more time as he’s halfway out the door. 

You take another glance at the amount of people crowding the doorway: your brother and parents, plus Kai’s parents and all his siblings. Minus him, of course. “I’m sure. I’m not too big on crowds, and I’m kinda tired. Might just see if Kai wants to watch a movie.”

“Okay, but be careful.” Then, Mr. Parker leans closer to whisper in your ear. The gray hairs of his beard lightly touch your skin, making you shiver in fear. “And don’t get too close to him.”

“Noted.”

“We should be back around three-ish, more or less,” your Dad adds. 

“Okay.”

“Don’t leave the house, and certainly don’t let him sneak out,” Mr. Parker piggy-backs off your dad’s comment. Jeez, it’s like they’re long-lost irritating brothers.

“I won’t. He’ll stay here with me.”

“But not too close, becau-”

“I heard it the first time, Dad. I trust Kai enough that we’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Go have fun, okay?” You had to downplay your friendship to make them think you only trusted him a little. If they knew the truth - that you’d trust him with your life - they’d definitely stage an intervention and never let you see each other again. 

“Okay, just making sure. See you later, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

Finally, they leave. It takes ten minutes for nine kids to assemble between two cars, between the Parkers’ van and your parents’ SUV, but they eventually make it work. You can literally hear two kids crying over “having to sit in the back again”, but then you hear your Dad’s voice, “ride with me, if it’s okay with your Dad.” The crying ceases at last, and the cars pull out of the gate. 

“Are they gone yet?” Kai comes downstairs about a minute after they left.

“Just pulled out. What were you doing?”

He swallows, “um.” While struggling to answer, you give him a look. “I’m used to hiding during the van-packing process.”

“Okay,” you answer, not entirely convinced. 

He bites his lip, “okay, that part is true. I do hide when they do that because sometimes someone storms back in to grab something to appease the ones stuck in the back, like a snack or whatever. But, um, what I was actually doing was… trying to,” he pauses, and you let him find the words, “build up the courage to, um… can I just kiss you?”

You’re confused, but you’ll never deny him a kiss. Smile forming on your lips, you close the three foot gap between you two, hands tracing his jawline, capturing his face, while kissing him softly. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips. There’s something different about this kiss than your usual ones. Something more hungry… willing, maybe. Whatever it is, you let him take charge. 

As soon as the shift in control changes, he spins the both of you around so that you’re pressed into the counter, rather than himself, while he kisses you deeper. His lips leave your mouth to trail down your jaw, to your neck, but then he suddenly stops to look up at you. 

“Everything okay?”

“Can we go upstairs?”

“Of course.” You joke, “afraid someone’s gonna walk in?”

He misses your teasing tone and replies bluntly, “no, I wanna fuck you.”

You nearly trip up the first stair, causing you to grab a tight hold of his hand. “What’d you say?”

“Is that okay?”

“I-uh-um- yes, just caught me off guard. What brought it on?”

“You said you loved me. And that you liked my body even with all the scars. And that if I can love yours with scars, you can love mine.”

“I did say that. I meant every word.”

“And so now we’re here alone, and I’m going to act on something I’ve wanted to do a long time ago.” 

You reach the top of the stairs. He has an arm around your back to prevent you from falling, just in case, as he stares into your eyes for hesitancy. You give none. “Then do it.”

Instantly, your back collides with the hallway wall and he kisses you with the same tenacity he did downstairs. Out of habit, your hands find his hair; his, your waist, but he’s a lot more confident now. Slowly, he inches the both of you towards his door. His hand fumbles with the knob, making him frustrated.

“Wish I could just open the stupid thing with magic.”

“If I had magic, I’d let you take it whenever,” you answer, again, with no hesitancy. 

He stops to stare at you. “You would?”

“Mhm. I mean it, Kai, I love you.”

“But the siphoning hurts.”

You shrug, “can’t hurt that bad. I imagine it’d probably actually feel good. At least for me, maybe not other people. Send little tingles all the way down to my-”

He cuts you off with an open mouthed kiss. “Now I really wish you had magic.”

“-and then a part of me would kinda be in your blood, too, right?” You finish the second part of what you wanted to say. 

“Holy fuck, you’re turning me on.”

“Open the door, Kai,” you urge. 

He finally does, but in the second you take to catch a breath, he’s back on you. He takes advantage of your state and slips his tongue in your mouth, no regard for anything but his and your pleasures. You go weak in his arms and let him explore, enjoying the feeling much more than you probably should. Then, he taps on your hips signaling for you to jump. You do, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, finally, and throws you down rather roughly.

Immediately, panic takes over his face. “Shit, that was way harder than I meant to! You okay?”

You, on the other hand, can’t get a word out because you’re giggling too hard. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” He tries again.

“You’re so hot when you’re all dominant. Well, you’re always hot, but-” and then you continue to giggle. 

Kai relaxes, realizing he didn’t hurt you. “Oh you little-” he climbs on top of you until he’s hovering over your face. Legs tangle together, bodies close but not close enough… You buck your hips. There, now they’re close enough. “You’ve been wanting this,” he observes, fighting back a moan at the contact. 

“Yes, but also, your comfort is my number one priority. It’s much better now, with you enjoying it too, than if we were to try when you weren’t ready.”

“Thank you, princess,” he kisses your nose sweetly. 

“Thank you for trusting me. One thing though.”

“Mhm?”

“Do you trust me right now?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Without further warning, you grab his wrists and flip him over so that his back is pressed into the bed. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on top of him, and the power makes you giddy. 

“I thought you liked me being dominant?”

“Oh, I do. But I also want to see you writhe under me,” you wink at him. 

Kai gives you a look, and you know he’s going to start fighting any minute now. It’s in his eyes, and you can feel his muscles under you tensing to build up the strength. In the last second before you think he’s going to try and take charge, your hand goes down to the outline forming in his jeans. All fight is immediately gone as soon as you start to feel him. He can’t even fight the moan he’s been holding back since you started making out downstairs. The sound spurs you on and you rub him harder.

“More, princess. Please.”

You move your legs to straddle him, hands going to his belt. “This okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please.”

“What am I, five?”

You cock your head at him. “Words, or no further touching.”

“Princess,” he tries to buck his hips like you did, but you’re holding him down.

“Come on, Malachai.”

“Don’t use that name.”

“Mala-”

“Fine! Yes, please. It’s okay. Please.” You smirk, not expecting the begging, but loving it. “You little sadist.”

That only makes you love it more. Not wasting another second, your hands are undoing his belt. As much as you want to take it slowly, you’re both too excited to drag it out any longer. Besides, just by looking at him, you can see how hard he is, and you know you’re almost soaking your panties with wetness. 

“Wait,” he pants. 

You stop immediately. “You okay?”

“I need… I need. C’mere,” he beckons you forward, and you listen. “Need this off,” he pulls off your shirt. “And this,” next is your bra. The minute it’s off, he loses control and grabs your tits like he did in the bathroom a couple days earlier. Before you know it, he’s fondling one while the other’s in his mouth. 

“If mine is, this is coming off, too.” You make a grab for his shirt. He pauses, tongue still around your nipple. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he seems to decide in that instant. 

In order for you to pull the fabric over his head, he has to disconnect his mouth from your breast. But when it’s off, he swallows hard and doesn’t reach for them again.

“Kai… c’mon, pumpkin.” You take his hand to put it back on your body, trying to return that sense of comfort, but he doesn’t grasp your breast again. Sighing, you take it as a moment to get a closer look at his body. The bruises, the scars, everything. A tear escapes your eye, and you lean down to press a kiss to one of the purplish wounds. Then, you start to do that with all of them. From his neck to his hips, you kiss every mark made on his body, whether by his dad’s hand or his own. On the fresher ones, your lips are more gentle, barely there, not wanting to cause him more pain. But on the older ones, you leave multiple kisses, or even lick them with your tongue before kissing. “I meant it, Kai. You’re gorgeous. These marks don’t stop me from loving you.”

Slowly, he makes eye contact with you again. His hands reach out to your face, and when he gets a hold of you, he pulls you in for another deep kiss on his lips. “What did I do to deserve you?” He asks with a tear emerging.

“You don’t have to deserve love, baby.” You kiss his collarbone. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your lips travel to his chest. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, you swirl your tongue around one of his nipples. He moans loudly, arching his back.

“Holy shit, I didn’t know that would feel that good.”

“Can I continue to make you feel things like that?”

“Yes, please. I need it, I need you. Wait, but let me-” he suddenly sticks two fingers into your wet heat, hovering over his own body, and pops them in his mouth. “You taste so good.”

“Are you gonna let me taste you now?”

“Sure. Yes. I meant yes.”

Your eyes warm and you continue to kiss him further down - this time, trailing his v-line. You had noticed the prominent indents the other day, but are now getting to see it up close. He moans again, enticing you more. 

“Princess.”

“I’m working on it.” Finally, you shrug his jeans down and off his body. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to hide his now-bare legs, but you opt to not pay attention to them anyway. Your gaze goes straight to the bulge in his boxers that looks even thicker without his jeans in the way. Mouth watering, you touch him first, enjoying the feeling. 

“Y/N, please. It’s uncomfortable. Too tight.”

Succumbing to his wishes, you tap his hips for him to lift them, then peel back the final confinement. His cock springs out, slapping his stomach in the process. You’re quick to lean forward and lick a stripe from the base to the tip. Kai sinks his head into the pillow, groaning huskily. After pulling his boxers all the way off, you refocus your attention back to the length in front of you. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” you mutter. The praise makes him twitch, and you immediately reach out to grasp him between two of your fingers. “Need to taste.” And then you finally do. You start at the tip, rolling your tongue over the slit counter clockwise, stimulating precum in the process. Some of it leaks into your mouth, straight down your throat, but most of it drips down the side of cock. It doesn’t get far, though, before you move your head to catch it, licking your way from the base to the tip, again. 

A shiver runs through his body. “Feels so good.” Barely audible, but you hear him. 

Positioning your head over him, you prepare to take him fully. To you, it’s a five second break of deep breaths, but to Kai, overwhelmed in pleasure, there’s almost no warning. As soon as you’re ready, you sink your mouth down on him until you get about halfway and your gag reflex kicks in. Cock hitting the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Y/N, you okay?” He sits up on his elbows, worried he’d accidentally hurt you.

Slowly, you lift your head back up, “I’m good, baby. Just training my throat to take you.”

He swallows so hard that you see his Adam’s apple bob. “Oh, um…” He doesn’t lay back down, opting to watch you instead. 

You don’t mind as you go down for a second time, getting further now. You do it several times, taking more and more of him each time. Your tongue swirls around his length and traces his veins. In fact, there’s one vein in particular that especially makes Kai moan every time you hit it. It’s on the underside of his cock, and you start to pay special attention to it. The rest of his length sits against your face as you focus on it.

Kai doesn’t know if the sight or the feeling is affecting him more. Either way, he feels himself getting close to release. Your mouth is around him, head bobbing up and down rapidly, when he twitches. He whines, resisting the urge to hold your head where he wants. Suddenly, though, you stop and remove your mouth completely. 

“Fuck, wait, I’m about to…”

“I know, pumpkin. Can’t let you do that yet.”

He’s about to ask why, but then sees his answer. In one quick motion, you’re removing your own pants and lining your bodies together. “Ready?”

“Mhm. Yes.”

You smile, grab his cock to hold it upright, then sink your heat down onto him. Kai collapses, elbows no longer supporting him, as pleasure consumes him.

“You okay?”

“Yes, oh- oh god.”

“Can I move? I’ll start slow.”

“Please.”

As promised, you slowly begin to ride his length. Your hands rest on either side of his body and lips are pressed to his chest, leaving hot kisses all over his skin. 

“Let me know if you want to try and take over.”

“Okay.”

When Kai starts to relax, you pick up the pace. Not too fast, but little by little. Soon, his hands find your hips and he helps guide you. His fingers have a tight grip on you, but it only makes you wetter. 

“I think, I wanna… wanna try…”

“Want to be on top, angel?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. You can just flip us or I can move, what are you feeling?” But the hungry look in his eyes already gives you your answer.

As soon as you nod and grab onto his shoulders, he flips the both of you so that you’re now pressed into the bed. With his usual role re-established, so does his dominance. You open your legs wider to give him more access, and he immediately takes advantage of it. With a lick of his lips, he pushes his cock into you, not stopping until he’s run out of length. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. 

“Is it too much?”

“No, you’re perfect. Move when you’re ready, mmkay?”

He nods, then copies the way you rode him when he begins to move: arms on your side, head ducked into your chest. His lips attach to your nipples, sucking, and pulling them between his teeth. When he gets a hold of his balance, you feel pressure on your clit, too. 

“Fuck, Kai. You’re so good.”

His body jolts, “say it again.”

“What?”

“Name. Say it again.”

“Kai,” you pant as he quickens pace.

“No one else is home baby, say it louder.”

You had forgotten this fact, actually, but the minute he reminds you, you let yourself go. “Fuck,” you moan, rather loudly, “feels so good, Kai! Fuck. Harder.”

He spreads your legs wider and thrusts harder upon request. Obscene sounds fill the room, mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Kai,” you pant, “need to hear you, too.”

“I’d rather hear you, Princess.”

“Aw, come on, gorgeous. Nothing turns me on more than men moaning,” you admit. “Need to hear you.”

Previously held-back grunts and groans tumble from his mouth at your confession. When his lips return to your nipple, he makes sure to keep up with your request, sending vibrations throughout your body. 

“I’m close, Kai. So close, so close… don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“I’m getting there, too,” he twitches again. “Come for me, Princess.”

As soon as he asks, your orgasm rips through your body. Loud moans follow, and your eyes roll back in your head. Kai rides you through yours, before pulling out and immediately releasing all over your face and chest. Some drips off your shoulders, down to the bedsheets.

The minute he catches his breath, a worried expression takes over his face, “I’m sorry! I knew I shouldn’t do it inside you, but wasn’t sure where else to. I aimed for your chest and misfired.”

You make direct eye contact with him, then swipe a bunch off your cheek with your finger before sucking it off. “Oh, I’ll never complain about a facial.” You dart your tongue out to the side to gather more. “And don’t worry, I kinda like the taste. How the hell were you a virgin, Kai?! You were amazing the whole way through!”

He blushes, “um, thank you.”

You can’t help but giggle. Only Kai would be sweet enough to thank you for complimenting his sexual ability. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you had lost your virginity, threw you an, “I know,” when you told him he was good. This little fact just made you love Kai even more. 

Then, as if he couldn’t get more perfect, his next words are, “can I clean you up now, Princess? And then we can cuddle and nap?”

“Of course. Give me a kiss first.”

Kai leans forward and kisses you sweetly. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, wetting it gently. 

“Blood,” he comments.

“Hm?”

“There’s blood on your lip.”

You run your own tongue along it, “must’ve bit it in pleasure.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He pulls on a loose pair of sweatpants from his drawer, giving you a wink. 

“Okay, darling.”

Two minutes later, Kai returns with a warm rag and a water bottle. First, he cleans the small sore and any remaining blood off your lip, then hands you the bottle. “Drink,” he insists. As you do, he moves the rag over your face and down your neck and chest, cleaning off his drying cum. He rubs your lower body next, easing some of the soreness as well as wiping away your cum. “Anywhere else?”

“No, I’m okay. Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” he sappily replies. 

“Okay, come here then.” Arms wide open, you gather him up and pull him close. You take a hand away for a split-second to pull the blankets over you two, earning a whine before he realizes what you’re doing. As soon as your arm is back around him, he snuggles into your body. “I love you, Kai,” you whisper with your lips against his cheek.

“I love you, too, Princess. Thank you for making me feel like I’m worth something to someone.” 

As much as his words sadden you, they also make you feel warm inside. You’re the one that makes him feel that way, and that’s pretty fucking special. 

“Always, my sweetheart.” You give him a kiss to the cheek, keeping your lips there even afterwards. His heartbeat slows into a comfortable rhythm and breathing evens out, and soon, he’s fast asleep in your arms. 

[binniesbooks]

hi fayebae, imma send these before i go for my hiatus again(im not sure if you alr have smth planned for tyun n hyuka! cos i know u have a yj fic thats coming soon, so ill send these in for them)

was thinking of tyun x reader for this

uk the series “academy reincarnation”!! There was a salsa dance ep! I was thinking that reader decided to sign up to the salsa academy where tyun is one of the instructors?/student! reader wanted to learn salsa for the longest time but has always been afraid to as one would usually need to dance in pairs. afraid of having any physical contact with any stranger(due to a trauma she formed from a relationship), even tho it was difficult, reader eventually let down her walls with tyun as the many practice sessions go by, she finds herself now looking forward to salsa practices as thats the only time she can see tyun! And she craves his touch. During one of the practices, they got so lost in the dance that their faces ended up really close to each other! Tension arises(she wants him, he wants her, dare i say more 🤭smut of course!) [didnt wanna write too much to allow ur creative freedom!!]

i hope this is good gah(just thought i should send smth in for the other members too hehe, pls dont put aside ur wip again!! Do this after ure done w ur yj one gah) love u my soobie fav boobie💗

TENDER TOUCH

TH 002 .F22 2024

wc 5.3k

pairings gentle!Taehyun x abused!reader

warnings physical and sexual abuse, traumatic experience, traumatized reader, protected sex, abusive ex-boyfriend (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note *insert: Taehyun's 어디 있지 (where am I) in boba😳* as promised, here's my second fic for the day! this is my first Taehyun fic and I'm fucking obsessed that it got up to 5.3k words, wth. Anyways, @inkigayocamman I know you requested a Tae fic, but here's another one for u to enjoy I guess while I'm still working on it. 🙂‍↕️ I hope you like this too! And ofc, to my one and only Beomgyu's kitten, I love your brain, it's so sexy omfg. I'm totally sat. Plus yeah, the yj fic is still on the line. 🤣 Anyway, I did a few research(again) for this fic, so I hope it turned out good, fingers crossed!

Edit: Thanks for proofreading the whole ass fic @babymochibeargyu I'm dead now. 😭😂 luv uuuu 😖💓

"Learn how to dance Salsa, we offer multiple dance forms for beginners to professionals. Come join us..." You mumbled reading the flyer your friend handed you.

"Jia, you know I can't do anything like this anymore." You sighed as you handed her back the flyer.

"I know, I know, it's because of your trauma, right? But maybe this is the way that can only help you overcome that trauma," She started, "I'm worried about you taking this class but I'm more worried about you carrying that trauma all throughout your life." Jia gently holds your hand, still careful not to scare you with the skin contact.

You're lost in your thought for a while thinking if you can really let go of your trauma after all this time. It's been so long since you haven't engaged in any relationship after your last one.

"I-I'll think about it." You sighed, you really wanted to be free but you just didn't know how to start. "Please do, I really wanted to help you." Jia's eyes are full of worry, sadness and guilt. Because it's been so long yet she can't do anything to help.

You've always been wanting to learn how to dance Salsa. It's like your little dream ever since, however, your boyfriend from your last relationship did not even want you to be touched nor be grazed by any man's skin. You insisted you could just pair with a girl but he threatened you to hurt anyone who will be around you if you kept on insisting to register for the dance class. You ended up not registering for the class and burying your little dance dream into the depths of your heart.

The following week, you found yourself standing in front of the dance academy building. Breathing slowly, thinking deeply whether you really want to do it or not. You were clutching on the flyer tightly. Your knees fell weak as you stumbled down, retreating all the way to the confinement of your apartment to hide from the world.

It took so much courage for you to do this. Especially when you ended up trying once again a week later. You're standing in the front of the building, staring at the swaying banner of the academy with a "SALSA DANCE ACADEMY" written on it.

You softly knocked on the door before opening it. "Hi! Come in! How may I help you?" You were greeted with s young lady, clad in a salsa dance costume. She looks bright and bubbly.

"I.. Uhm.. wanted to register for the class." You meekly answered as you slid down on the chair. "May I know your name?" The lady picked up the pen on the table and grabbed a file.

"Y/n...y/n s/n." You silently answered.

"What class would you like to be included in?" The lady's smile never faltered. Her bright aura makes you feel comfortable for a bit. "What do you offer?" You asked back.

"Well, we have group sessions and we also have one-on-one lessons," you nodded at her, signaling her to keep going. "In group sessions, there will be 15 pairs -- 30 individuals in a class, plus the 2 dance instructors," you felt pressured with just the thought of being included in the group. "In the one-on-one class, we will find you a pair if you still have none, or you can bring one, and then also a pair of instructors," she explained.

"I'll take the latter."

"Please sign here and we'll wait for another one to sign up." She smiled again at you. You were thinking of bringing your friend to the class.

"By any chance, can I bring a girl for the one-on-one class?" Her expression suddenly turned sad, "I'm afraid we are only taking a man and a woman as a pair for the one-on-one class. Usually, the pairs who sign up for the one-on-one class end up acquiring advanced skills than those who are in the group."

You thought of backing out once again but you shook your head to clear your mind. You're already here, you're already a step closer to the most awaited time of your life: to let go of your trauma.

"We'll call you once we receive another sign-up for a one-on-one class. Thank you for dropping by." The lady waved her hand as you stepped outside.

You shrunk to the corner of the door, people are looking at you but you're too occupied to even give a damn.

It's been a week. You didn't know how to explain how you felt. Half of you felt happy that you hadn't received a call yet, because that would only means you didn't have to do it anymore and there wouldn't be anymore skin contact for you to trigger your trauma. However, the other half of you felt disappointed. You would have been lying if you said that you didn't get your hopes up, thinking that this would be the way to be finally free from your trauma.

"Still haven't received a call?" Your friend placed the pizza she brought on your coffee table. Today was the day she would usually pay you a visit to your apartment. She started doing this from 2 years ago, when you and your ex-boyfriend finally broke up.

You hummed in response as you dug out the box of pizza. Nevertheless, you don't want to bring your thoughts about the dance academy again.

A couple of minutes passed when your phone rang, causing both your heads to look towards your phone

"Hello?"

"Hi! Can I talk to Ms. Y/n s/n?" The voice over the line spoke brightly.

"Y/n speaking." You just answered back, looking at your friend who's anticipating a piece of good news.

"We just want to inform you that someone already signed up for the one-on-one class as your pair. The class will start this Monday, are you fine with it?" Your friend sighed in relief as soon as she heard it.

"O-okay. Sure." You felt a rush of anxiety travel throughout your body, as your fingers trembled hanging up the call.

"Hey, it's okay." Your friend wrapped the thick blanket around your shoulders before hugging you. Afraid that she might trigger your trauma. "You'll be fine." She tries to calm you down by rubbing your back.

2 days passed by quickly. Enough to make you coil up in bed instead of getting up. Your phone vibrates from an incoming message.

Dearest Jia: Take care later, okay? I know you can do it. I won't be able to go because of work, so I hope you understand:< but I'll pick you up when you're done! <3

You: I don't feel like going.

Dearest Jia: Noooo! You've come this far. You should go, I know you can do this!

You: Fine, I'll text you when I'm done with the class.

You tossed your phone on the bed as you grunt into your pillow. You're just glad your dance class starts at 3 in the afternoon. You still had a lot of time to prepare your body and mind.

Quarter to 3, you're already in front of the building, a few people going in at the same time. Probably for the group session. You wanted to go home but the lady called you out.

"Y/n! Please come in. I'll accompany you to the assigned room. I'm Daeun, btw." She extended her hand to you but you froze. You're too afraid. But someone else caught Daeun's hand. "I'm Taehyun, the one who signed up for the pair." A tall guy appeared on your side, shaking her hand. "I-i'm y/n." You meekly introduced yourself without touching any of them. The lady looked confused at first but she shrugged it off.

"Okay, I'll leave you two here, Mr. and Mrs. Hwang are inside already."

Taehyun pushed the door open, you were both greeted with a polished wooden floor and mirror walls in the wide room. Two people were sitting in the corner. They must be your instructors.

"Please come in!" The lady waved at the both of you.

"Do you know each other?" The man asked which the both of you only answered by shaking your head.

"I think we should start our class with an introduction. Don't you think?" The lady nodded.

"I'm Mr. Hwang and this is Mrs. Hwang. She's my wife and we mainly teach one-on-one classes. You are?" They turn their gaze to Taehyun.

"My name is Kang Taehyun. I also dance but not in this genre. So I wanted to learn this." They then looked at you.

"I... I am y/n. I signed up for the class t-to overcome my t-rauma." Your words are slurred, and your reason made your instructors gasp. "I-I used to be in a r-relationship. And t-they're the reason why I can't e-even touch people or let other p- people t-touch me." You bit your lip as you look up at them.

"Honey, but I'm afraid this dance requires a lot of holding and touching, what should we do?" Mrs. Hwang clasped both of her hands on her mouth as she turned a bit emotional.

"By any chance, can you hold someone when there's a barrier between them? Like, there is no direct skin-to-skin contact?" Taehyun spoke up, you nodded lightly at him. "It's been two years so I think I can tolerate it to an extent."

"Then I think we're good Mrs. Hwang. I'm thinking of using a glove or something. If that's what makes her comfortable. I don't mind at all." Taehyun remarked.

Taehyun ended up wearing gloves for your dance class. And as much as possible, he's avoiding any of your exposed body parts. He's also lightly touching you that you feel as though it's just air grazing your body.

So far so good, the 3-hour class ended up okay. Jia picked you up 30 minutes later after you texted her that you were done.

Your dance class went well the next day. And the day after that. And the following days after that. Days became weeks, weeks became months. It's all going well, with Taehyun's careful assistance over you.

Today was the day you decided to step further to your goal.

"Taehyun, I think we can now stop using the gloves. We've been dancing for a month now and I hate it whenever I think about the gloves. It feels like I'm being disgusted by you or something." You stated to Taehyun once the two of you were on a quick break. Within one month, you grew closer to Taehyun. The quick breaks were your time to tell stories to each other.

"Are you sure? You're not making me feel like any of that, by the way. But are you sure you can do it now?" His eyes seek yours. You simply nodded as you removed your jacket leaving you with your t-shirt on.

"Are you two, okay? Shall we continue?" Your dance instructor asked, checking on you, as you and Taehyun stood up. Taehyun discarded the gloves he was using on top of his bag as he folded his long-sleeved t-shirt up to his elbow.

You started off well. Taehyun holding your hand as gently as he could as usual. Letting you turn around with some quick footwork. It was all good actually, until he needed to lean in, holding your waist and your thigh. One more turn, his arms and fingers graze through your arms. His delicate fingers holding your waist once again. A quick turnaround. A step faster. A more closer proximity.

"You fucker! Come back here! I know what you did!"

"S-stop! We're already over Han!" You squealed as you blocked the door with your body.

"You're fucking dead meat when this door opens!"

Your tears wouldn't stop flowing from your cheeks as you kept your body pressed on the banging door. Han has been your boyfriend for 9 months now. At first, he was so good to you, treating you like the princess you deserved to be. But it was too good to be true that you started to feel it was wrong. Just 2 months ago he started hurting you physically and abusing you sexually. He was too obsessed with you too that he sometimes he would start locking you up in your apartment. Even your requests got declined. At first, you let it pass as you thought it was normal. But you started earning bruises and wounds. You barely ate, barely drank, you even barely slept. You would often get fevers too. The slightest noise would make your soul jump out and the slightest movement would make you flinch.

Jia, your friend, was the one who advised you to report him. So you did, that was why he was here banging at your door.

Han's voice can no longer be heard, hence you decided to quickly hide in your closet, as you dug out your spare phone you had hidden to contact your friend.

You quickly called Jia, telling her to call the police or something but you were cut off when the door bursts open. Han was holding a gun and laughing hysterically.

"Fuck you, you bitch! You're really dead!" You quickly covered your mouth.

"Come out, kitten. Come out from wherever the fuck you're hiding!" His voice echoed through the room drowning your quiet sobs.

That's when he forcefully opened the closet you're hiding. "Ohhh, you look so scared kitten, why?" He cooed at you as his lips stretched to form a mocking grin. "Move to the bed!" You shook your head. "Fucking move to the bed!" He fired a warning shot at the mirror, crashing it. You yelped at the noise. With your trembling body, you quickly scrambled your way to the bed covering your bruised-up body.

"Strip." He commanded as he pointed the gun at you. With no choice left, and your life at stake, you did what he ordered.

He crashed his lips on yours harshly. When he noticed you didn't kiss him back, he slapped you. Blood flowed through your lips as you choked on your sobs. With the gun still pointed at your head, he started harassing you again. His hand left a bruised mark on your neck as he tightly squeezes it. You could almost see the white light as your weak body just let him do anything. There was no use thrashing around as if you had accepted your dying fate.

"Freeze!" Was the only thing you heard before everything around you went black.

You opened your eyes inside the hospital, pulled every apparatus attached to your body and started screaming. It made Jia scream out and call for a doctor. They couldn't calm you down so they needed to give you a shot for temporary sleep.

Everything came swirling back to you. Pushing Taehyun away, causing your body to crash on the wooden floor. "Shit!" Taehyun cursed under his breath as he hurriedly pushed back his sleeves and wore the gloves again, picking up your jacket at the same time, before coming back to you. Your instructors let out a shock gasp as they also rushed over to you.

"Please grab a blanket or any thick clothing!" Taehyun shouts as he tries to ease you by covering your shoulder with your jacket.

Mr. Hwang passed Taehyun his padded jacket he always brought with him. Taehyun carefully wrapped the thick jacket around your body. He holds your face as he tries to soothe you.

"Y/n, look at me, please look at me." Sweat started to form on his forehead as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Please, look at me, and breathe slowly. Breathe slowly. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale." Taehyun guided your breathing as his glove-cladded hands rubbed your cheeks.

Mrs. Hwang was panicking but Mr. Hwang tried to calm her down before he went out to grab a glass of water.

Your heartbeat slowed down for at least a bit. Taehyun guiding you helped somehow as you slowly calmed down. Taehyun got the water from Mr. Hwang and held it in front of you as he let you sip on the water slowly.

"Are you feeling okay now?" Taehyun tucked your sweaty hair behind your ears. His eyes were full of worry. "Do you wanna go home and rest?" He's still carefully rubbing your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have removed the gloves. That was too risky." Taehyun mumbled as he hesitated to hold your hand.

That same afternoon, he called your friend over. He introduced himself and explained the situation. He let your friend take you home as he bid you two goodbye. You're lucky it was Friday at that time so you don't have to worry about waking up the next morning to go to your dance class. For the next two days, you spent it caving in your room. It helped you calm down.

Monday. You opened the door. You laughed at the scene in front of your eyes.

"What's that?" You chuckled as you placed your bag on the corner. Taehyun looks at himself in the mirror. He's totally covered. He's wearing a thicker glove and a padded jacket. His usual dress pants are now sweats. He's even wearing a mask. He scratched the back of his head.

"Pft. That's too much. Don't worry I'm fine now. Thank you by the way." You smiled at him.

"Are you sure? Because that scared me. I don't know what to do." He removed his jacket along with the face mask and the thick gloves.

"Mhm, I'm sure." You assured him.

"Okay then. We'll try again. Slowly this time." His eyes are full of concern as he looks at you. You smiled at him as you accepted his hand.

For another month, Taehyun tried to connect with you. Stopping whenever needed. Wearing the things he needs to wear whenever he can sense your anxiety rising. For once, you realize how he gently holds you. How he's always careful with you, treating you like a fragile glass that would easily break if you weren't handled correctly. One month passed without much problem. If anything, you're actually growing accustomed to it.

For some reason, you learned to feel comfortable with Taehyun's touch. The graze of his skin, his fingers, and his touch never terrified you anymore, and his existence no longer made you panic.

Now, he's solely the reason why you're still attending your dance class. You're slowly putting your trust in him. You're slowly putting your walls down. He can now hold your hand without fear. He can now dance without thinking that you would startled. He slowly introduced you to the steps that requires your body to be closer. Teaching you how the steps are supposed to be done. You're no longer panicking. Even when your face is just only few inches from him, you were actually smiling at each other. You no longer feared his touch. If anything, he's only leaving you all tingly with his warm skin.

You could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Whenever you leaned on his chest, it made your heart flutter. His breath on your shoulder, your neck, any part of your body makes the knot in your stomach twist tighter.

You're slowly craving for his touch. For how he cares for you, for how he tends to you. Whenever you're home, he keeps popping into your head. How his sharky smile appears whenever he's happy. The small noises he made. His cat-like attitude. He's the perfect example of hot, sexy and cute.

Every last week of the month, you would have all the time to yourselves to gather all your skills acquired. Because every once a month, you had to show what you have learnt in class. This now left the two of you alone in the dance studio. Perfecting every step and move you needed to show on evaluation day.

Taehyun's lingering touches left you all tingly. His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. His breath alone makes your mind go in a twist.

"One step back, two steps to the front... One turn and... Lean you down." He's matching his words on every beat of the step. You thought it only happens in a fantasy world. But it was like the world stopped when his eyes were fixed on yours. His steady breath makes you hold yours. His eyes traveled down to your lips as he gulped. He mumbles a soft "You're pretty," before pulling you back to stand on both your feet.

His hands are both on your face as he slowly backs you to the mirror. His breath is unsteady and warm. The moment he got you pressed on the mirror, he leaned his forehead on yours as he closed his eyes.

"You're really pretty. So pretty I'm afraid I can't control myself." He whispered. Your hands were on his chest, you felt how his heart was thumping so hard.

"S-should we head out early?" You whispered, your hot puffs of breath touching his lips got him reeling as he cursed under his breath.

He quickly pulls away, holds your hand and grabs both of your bags. Both heading outside to his car. "Tell your friend I'm taking you home instead." The air in the car throughout the drive was so thick. His hands were gripping on the wheels, tapping impatiently when the road slowed down.

"Calm down, Tae, I'm not going anywhere." You chuckled as you placed your hand above his when it was resting on the gear shift. He throws a quick glance at you. He bit his lip as a flush crept up on his cheeks.

The drive was short, but Taehyun's action made it look like it was not. He hurriedly got out of his car, running over to your side to open the door for you as he held your hand. His jittery steps were heavy as you both made your way to his humble home.

"Come in." He nervously spoke as he placed his shoe on the rack, switching the light on in the process.

"D-do you want a drink or something?" He was almost running towards the kitchen.

You flop on his couch, making yourself comfortable at some point. "Come here, instead," you chuckled, "You're so anxious for no reason, Taehyun." He sat down beside you, wiping his sweaty palms on his dress pants as he sighed. You scoot over, holding his face, lips just a few inches apart.

"Wait," he pushed you a bit, "a-are you sure about this?" You nodded and smiled at him. "G-give me a minute." He rummaged through his back pocket pulling a handkerchief. You looked at him confused.

He unfolded the handkerchief and gently placed the thin fabric on your lips before crashing his lips on yours. He holds your nape as he climbs up on the couch. He slowly laid you down. Lips unmoving, yet it feels so hot. His lips were just merely pressed on yours with the fabric separating both of your soft skin.

He pulled away, kissing your forehead. "I'm sorry." He whispered as if he was the one who did you wrong. You gently pull the handkerchief away as you tangle your fingers in his hair. Taehyun never failed to take care of you in the most gentle way possible. He's not thinking of his pleasure at this point. He's thinking about you. To the point that he even thought of putting a piece of cloth between your lips just to be able to kiss you.

You wanted to cry at how he's taking care of you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you pulled him back. "I'm good now Tae, thank you for taking care of me. There's no need for the hanky." You whispered before your tears rolled down your cheeks as you kissed him, bare.

He's a gentleman. He's too good to be true. But you let your walls fall down and let him enter. You let him protect you instead. But his hungry kiss spoke thousands of emotions. His kisses travel down to your neck.

"Taehyun..." You whimpered as you gripped his hair.

"A bit more... Just a bit more..." He started sucking and biting your neck and shoulder, leaving splotchy red marks. He pulls away for a while, enough time to tug your shirt off your body.

His fingers slowly traced every scar you have on your body. The marks on your chest from the bottle Han once threw at you. The cigarette burns on your stomach. He also pulled down your skirts only to see stitches from your thighs. You got this when Han pushed you down the stairs. His finger draws back to your lips. The scar from the cut when he slapped you is still visible.

You covered your face out of embarrassment. You no longer look pretty with your all bruised-up body. "We can't do this here." Taehyun got up and carried you all the way to his bedroom. He laid you carefully as ever in his bedroom.

The bed dips down at his weight as he kneels between your legs. His head dips down to kiss every scar you have on your delicate body as if he's kissing your trauma away. He took his precious time. Not wanting to scare or startle you at any point. His actions are being done with all tenderness.

"Do you still want me to continue?" He asks when he hovers above your body, his elbows on both sides of your head. "I want you Taehyun, please do..." You whined biting your lip. "How can I say no when you say it like that, sweetheart." He sighed leaning his forehead on yours again. Your arms crawled under his shirt, feeling his toned body hiding beneath the soft cotton shirt he was wearing. "C-can you take it off? I feel so exposed." You mumbled as you tugged his shirt. "Ah, shit, I'm sorry." He quickly backed up to discard his shirt on the floor.

You stared at him when he was all fours above you. His body is totally toned. You can clearly see the firm muscles on his arms. His buff chest and his perfectly defined abs. "Touch me. I won't stop you. Touch me so you won't feel embarrassed anymore. Touch me so you won't feel as if I'm taking advantage of you. Touch me so you won't feel scared." He grabbed one of your hands and placed it on his chest, slowly dragging it down to his abs.

When he lets go of your hands, you continue to drag them down to the waistband of his dress pants. "C-continue..." His eyes were shut close, his lips trapped between his teeth. You can clearly see his abs tightening as he clenches with the graze of your finger on his waist. He gulps when you hook your finger inside. You unhooked the clip that's binding his pants and pulled the zipper down. His breathing hitched at the lingering touches you're leaving on his lower body.

You gently stroked him as you looked for his eyes. His lips were swollen at how he was biting it. "You won't let it out?" You tried taunting him. "Fuck..." He lets go of his long-held breath, hissing through his teeth. "Y-you're making me crazy, sweetheart... You're totally making me crazy..." He huffed as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Condom?" You asked. He reached into the small drawer just beside your head, pulling out a packet of condoms. "D'you wanna p-put it in f'me?" His words were short, and he was catching his breath. You gently rubbed the head of his cock as you rip the packet with your teeth.

"S-sweetheart, you're... Shit... You're k-killing me." He shuddered when you pressed at his slit, his jaw clenched tightly, his hand grasping the sheets.

You slowly drag your fingers on his cock as you wrapped it with the condom. "T-take your time... I w-won't do anything to hurt you or...ahh... or m-make you s-scared of me." He's struggling to hold back but he's doing his best. As soon as you were done, you tangled your fingers on his again, pulling him for a kiss. A kiss full of care. Gentle. Delicate. Sweet.

He pulls away, caressing your face once more. He pulls your underwear in one swift motion as he lines himself up on you, slowly pushing in. He continuously soothes you by rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Don't be scared, hm? I'm here. It's just me..." He keeps on mumbling, repeating the same phrase as you nod back at him.

Once he has bottomed out inside you, he stays still as he continues to plant soft kisses on your face. You were tearing up not because of the trauma anymore, but because of the love and care he's showing you.

He unhooked your bra as he gently groped your breast, his fingers flicked on your nipple as he suck on the other. "Mmm..." You whimpered underneath his big body squirming at how his tongue danced on your nipple. He didn't take long, afraid that he might hurt or trigger your trauma.

"C-can I move now? I might end up c-cumming now. You've been clenching f-for some time..." He muttered under his breath. You nodded and covered your face again.

He pulled both of your hands and intertwined your fingers with him above your head. "Please don't cover your face. You're beautiful. You're still pretty even with your scars. You're still gorgeous even with your fear and trauma. Please... Just let me take care of you. I know it'll be hard for you, but I promise. I promise to hold you dearly and cherish you." His eyes were looking for answers.

"Taehyun... Please... Please take care of me from now on. Please hold me when I feel scared... Make me feel loved..." Your silent weeps were drowned as he kissed your nose. "I'll be your peace, sweetheart." He wiped your tears as he slowly thrusts in you.

"I... I promise to hold you as gently as I can... But... I think I might end up g-going hard right n-now." He buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Your arms reached over his back as your nails dug and dragged over his bare back. "T-Taehyun..." You moaned out his name as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. The slow thrust becomes a little bit more sloppy. The skin slapping echoed through the solitude of his room.

"Fuck. Please forgive me if e-end up going t-too hard. But I promise to d-do my best to hold b-back." He grunted as his thrust went harder. You shook your head wanting him to go harder.

"I-i can't hurt you... I w-won't..." He steadies the way he thrusts inside you making the knot on your stomach tighten as you feel your high just around the corner.

You held him as if your life depended on him, "Taehyun... I'm close." "D-do it, sweetheart. I'm g-gonna cum any m-minute." He pressed his lips on you to drown your moans as you both came. He rubbed your waist as he soothed you before pulling out. Tying the condom and disposing it in the bin, zipping up his pants at the same time.

He bends down to kiss your forehead as he grabs a pack of wet wipes cleaning you up. He picked up his shirt and made you wear it. He finally laid beside you as he pulled you on his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" He checks on you, to which you replied by shaking your head and a smile. "Sorry for going too hard, I did my best to hold back," he mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. "I'm okay Taehyun. Thank you so much." Your eyes finally close as his warmth embraces you. He hums while still hugging you close to him.

"Please rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, you no longer have to suffer anymore. You're safe with me. You're finally safe with me."

@binniesbooks 2024

[xanwyn]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[flowerfreya]

WIP Wednesday

Ghoap x reader , A/B/O AU

In a non weird stalker way ( its weird and it is stalker). You keep noticing them at your job and you know it's a grocery store. Maybe they just need milk a lot.

They keep trying to make small talk with you and you don’t have many times you can smile at them,annoyed (your not annoyed, actually your favorite time of the day is when they come in).

You see them in your line, waiting.

You notice that you have the longest line and your other coworker has offered to take them on her checkout counter. They have denied her request for about the third time before it's their turn on your line.

“Hello, hen”, mohawk said, which you finally learned is Soap.

“What’s up”, god, you want this day to end but when they show up they kind of make it better. Except Simon looks down right flustered, red in face. And he’s smelly. Not in a bad way but he smells sweeter and it’s making you antsy.

You look concerned , “Are you okay?”, you ask Simon.

He looks around and points at himself, me, shocked that you're even talking to him. You know you haven’t been the nicest person to be around but jeez you didn’t think that you were that bad.

“Bout to start my heat” , your brain short circuits, Omega….

Oh.

“What, you didn’t know” , he jokes with you.

“No, actually I didn’t know” , you answer back.

Everyone always has a scent, but know that you know that Simon is close to heat, it smells sweeter, makes you relax without realizing it. You sober up quickly, and finish scanning their items. When your manager comes up behind you. A little to close behind you.

“You see how long your line is”, he questions, he’s a beta too but thinks he’s better than everyone because he has the keys to the place.

“I see it”, what does he want you to do , multiply yourself and open the other registers.

“Maybe stop chatting up the Alpha’s and focus”, you’re used to this type of behavior but Soap isn’t.

“Aye, mate, we got a problem?”, he’s posturing , the smell of a mildly pissed off Alpha is taking up your sense of smell.

He shifts his eyes from you to them back to you, “o-o-oh no problem just want the line to not be a long line”, which again you would like to reiterate it’s not your fault because you legit just work here.

“Oi, then maybe open another till, eh ?”Simon adds on.

You look up at them, feeling unusual. These men that have been coming here everyday just to see you are defending you and you’ve done nothing but be mean to them.

And they still want you.

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 24/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE

CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR

                He loses his temper much easier when he’s tired and he’s tired a lot the first year the restaurant is open. He knows the saying burning the candle at both ends, but he’s found some way to hollow himself out and also burn the candle from the middle as well. Of course he’s a hard worker, expects those around him to put in just as much and expects the best from them, but when Vi calls him a thoughtless and heartless bastard in Italian while the film crew are still rolling he knows he’s gone too far but his brain is so fried he doesn’t even know what it is he’s done wrong. He crashes for sixteen hours and then has to go and make several apologies. Especially to Vi.

…            …            …

                “This is Admiral Kerner.”

                “Hello Admiral, this is Bradley Bradshaw.”

                There’s a pause on the other end of the line and Bradley bites his lip. He has no idea if the man he called Uncle Sli growing up will remember him. It’s been over fifteen years since he left, and longer since he’s seen him or spoken to him. But he knows how to sweet talk people and enough people to get Slider’s work number.

                “Baby Goose?”

                “Yeah. Hi Uncle Sli… you do remember me huh?”

                “Holy shit… of course I remember you kid. And as if I could forget your face on my TV every time the misses puts it on when I’m home.”

                “Oh. Sorry?”

                “No. Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to see you doing so well. Wait. Why are you calling me?”

                “Uh, I’m really sorry to ask, but I sort of have a favor to ask. Maybe a couple of favors.”

                “Okay. So you’re calling me out of the blue, after not talking to me for years… What do you need?”

                “Uh. It’s probably available to family, I was just wondering if I could know when and where your ship will be calling into port and for how long."

                “Uh. Okay. That’s… all fine. It’s information I can share. Can I ask why?”

                “My, uh, my boyfriend I guess? He’s going to be on your ship for seven months.”

                “You have a boyfriend?”

                “Yeah. So if I could know when and where I might be able to see him, I’d really appreciate it…”

                “I’m helping you organize booty calls!”

                “Uh, yeah, sorry if that’s too – ”

                “Oh no, this is perfect. Your dad would be so proud. Using all the resources available to you so you can get your dick wet!”

                Bradley rolls his eyes and pulls a face, glad he can’t be seen. Because while he’s not wrong it’s not the only reason why Bradley wants to see Jake. He hasn’t heard things like this about his dad in a long time, not since he left Mav’s. He barely remembers his father, but considering his best friend was Maverick, Ice and Slider also considered him friends speaks enough to the joking kind of personality he can imagine him having, coupled with what his mom told him. He remembers warm laughter the most, along with music. Strong arms picking him up.

                “Also, it’s kind of romantic. Your dad was always doing sweet stuff for your mom, making the rest of us look bad.” Oh. He’s never heard that before. Never imagined what kind of partner his dad might have been like and he adds it to the little list he keeps tucked away in his head. “Of course, he was also a terrible flirt, ladies flocked to him. Lucky for the rest of us all he did was flirt and he’d send them our way.”

                Okay, maybe more than he wants or needs to know about his dad.

                “Yeah, anyway Uncle Slider, thank you so much for this. Let me know what I can do to repay you… maybe come and cook you and your wife dinner?”

                “Well, I wouldn’t say no to that, she’d kill me if she found out you’d offered and I turned it down. But I have to ask… does Ice not know about this boyfriend? He could have got you the same info.”

                “Yeah, I know, but… No. He doesn’t know. I kind of want to keep it on the down low for now. We’re only just starting out… Very early days.” God, he doesn’t want to say it’s literally only weeks old, can only imagine how crazy other people might think he is.

                “No no, wait, go back. You mean I know something before Ice? Not only that you have a boyfriend but that he’s a good Navy boy…”

                “Actually he’s one of your aviators,” Bradley says, because there’s no point in not sharing that information. As soon as he sends the care packages and asks Slider to deliver them, he’s going to know exactly who it is. Fuck. He really needs to give Jake a heads up.

                “Jesus kid. Seriously?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Wow. You really couldn’t escape even when you tried huh?”

                Bradley laughs, because yeah, he guesses it might look like that from the outside, but Jake’s career doesn’t actually matter to him, other than the fact that he’s now got the background niggling worry that he’s in a dangerous profession. He finds that there’s no longer any bitterness about not being an aviator himself.

                “Well, I didn’t exactly go seeking him out. Just happens to be what he does, and well… you’re right. I’m not above using any contacts I might have to keep an eye on him and keep him in some comforts of home.”

                Slider snorts at that.

                “I’ll send you all the dates and locations. Plans change of course, but I can keep you updated.”

                “Thanks. I’ll send you some cookies or biscotti next time I send a care package. You still partial to pistachios?”

                “Oh, this just gets better and better. Yeah kid, send me something to keep me on your good side. I am all open to bribery from you.”

                “Oh, there’s one more thing. He calls me Leo. Leonardo. We met in Italy and that’s how I introduced myself, he knows my name is really Bradley Bradshaw, and what happened to my dad, but uh, he’s either completely oblivious about who I am exactly, or he’s really good at pretending he has no idea. So uh… yeah.”

                “Right. Got it. So keep it on the down-low that you’re Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “No. Not really. Just don’t announce it over the PA system?”

                “Got ya.”

…            …            …

                “Lieutenant.”

                “Admiral Kerner sir.”

                “Relax son, I’m not here for work. Just. Turns out we have a mutual friend.”

                “Sir?”

                “Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Oh! Leo.”

                “Ah. Yes. He did say you called him that. Anyway, I flew with his old man. Was at Top Gun when the training accident happened.”

                “Oh. Yeah. He told me about that. I didn’t realize he still knew people in the service.”

                “Oh, he knows a few,” Admiral Kerner says dryly and Jake wonders who else might pop out of the woodwork. “He was forced onto a different path, and while it might have worked out for the best there are still some deep hurts there.”

                Jake keeps his mouth shut.

                “Anyway, he sent me a care package, because I get mail more regularly. However he sent this to you, care of me. So. I’m now apparently his delivery man.”

                “I’m sorry sir, I’ll ask him not –”

                “It’s fine Lieutenant. He did ring and ask first. Just… he sounded happy. It was good to hear.”

                “Yes sir,” Jake says, not really sure how he can take part in this conversation safely, if this is somehow a weird sort of semi-shovel talk given the reference he made to knowing Leo’s dead father. Does he consider Leo a sort-of son?

                “Enjoy your care package. I know I’ll enjoy mine.”

                “Oh, yes. You too sir,” Jake says, suddenly understanding that Leo must have also sent Admiral Kerner something to his liking, and yeah, if it’s going to keep his CO happy then Jake’s all for it. He takes the package and nods his farewell as he watches Admiral Kerner stride away. He’s going to look up Bradshaw in the database, have a look at whatever Top Gun class Leo’s dad was in, because it might pop up again and he’d rather not be taken by surprise again. He suspects that the whole class might be keeping tabs on Leo, whether he knows about it or not.

                “Why was Admiral Kerner talking to you? What did you do?”

                “Phoenix. Always a pleasure. Why do you automatically assume I’ve done something?”

                “Because you’ve usually done something?”

                “Haha. No. He just, uh, introduced himself I guess. He flew with my boyfriend’s old man,” Jake says, rolling the word boyfriend around in his mouth, because that’s all he can think of calling Leo. He’s never had a boyfriend before, and he finds himself smiling at just the sweet gesture of Leo sending him a care package via the fucking Admiral of all people. Stupidly sweet.

                “You have a boyfriend?”

                “Yeah… You?”

                “More trouble than they’re worth.”

                “Not my one. He sent me a care package.”

                “Through Admiral Kerner?”

                “Yeah. You want to see what he sent me?

                “Do I want to?” Phoenix asks, pulling a face and Jake laughs, in too much of a good mood to get smart.

                “Live dangerously Trace. You might get lucky and I’ll share with you…”

                “Again, do I want that?”

                “He’s a chef. I know you have a sweet tooth.”

                “A chef? Well. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

                Then they’re opening the box, and there’s several carboard boxes, written on the top what they’ve got inside. Cranberry and pistachio cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. Almond and dark chocolate biscotti. Pistachio biscotti. He shouldn’t be surprised, Leo going overboard a little seems very on brand and he has to stop himself from just smiling so widely at the gesture. God, what did he do to deserve such a sweet man doing things like this or him? His sisters are definitely right to be envious.

                “Holy shit these are good…” Phoenix says, and he looks up to find she’s already opened one of the boxes to reveal a resealable plastic bag containing the baked goods. It’s the chocolate chip biscuits and he bites one, crunchy outside, chewy inside, milk chocolate chips and there’s so much sugar he thinks he hears his teeth squeak.

                “Yeah, they’re not bad.”

                “Not bad? These are like… crack.”

                “Hmm. Maybe I just need a glass of milk for the full experience.”

                “Does he sell these? Do you think he’d make me some? I’d suck his dick if he sent me cookies like this.”

                “Well, lucky for you I’m sharing.”

                “Are you sure? If these were mine I’d be hoarding them.”

                “They’re a little too sweet for me.”

                “Your boyfriend is a chef and you critique his cooking?”

                “Everyone has room for improvement Trace.”

                “Even you?”

                “Well, no. It’s hard to improve on perfection.”

                “Perfect asshole maybe…”

                “To your perfect bitch…”

                “What’s his name, this boyfriend of yours?”

                “Leo. Funny story actually. I met him in Italy years ago, like a decade. We… uh, exchanged names, then went our separate ways. Then I was home and there he was at the farmers market my sisters sell their stuff at…”

                “Wow. That’s actually kind of sweet and romantic and nothing like how I imagined your love story might go…”

                “Aw Trace, you imagined my love story?”

                “Yeah, usually it involved conjugal visits.”

                Jake laughs.

TWENTYFIVE

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost watches you put your makeup on in the morning.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Light Angst, Light Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Softness, Makeup, Pre-Established Relationship, Slight Self-Indulgent, Ghost and Reader are In Love, Drabble

WC: 1k~

Another drabble, just because I'm writing fluff for a different WIP and I'm trying to work out some kinks. Also, I think Ghost needs some more peaceful content every now and again from me, I be making him unhappy as hell in my other stuff.

Masterlist

"You're staring again."

Simon blinks, that familiar silk-soaked voice of yours pulling him back into the morning. He sits up from where he'd still been lying in bed, the covers sprawled across him as though he'd just woken up from a battle deep within his sleep. It's had him moving rather sluggishly since waking, though that had been no complaint by any means.

It only meant he had an excuse to spend some more time with you before work; and right now, you'd been doing a hobby of yours he's come to really enjoy watching.

You stand firmly in front of the dresser on your side of the bed, irises glued to your mirror, and a deadly grip on your liquid black eyeliner. Your eyes had been the last part of your look needing to be completed, and you'd be dammed if you fucked it up now.

You bring the pen to the corner of your eye, with the kind of precision Simon has only seen outdone by the steadiest hands belonging only to his well-trained comrades. And even then you gave them a run for their money.

With the spiritual guidance of a painter, you gently line the ink to your skin, curving it back and forth from below your brow to back towards your eyelid, until you've outlined a sharp winged look at the corners of your eyes, filling them in.

They look perfect once complete. Though, when you stare at yourself in the mirror a few seconds too long, you frown, dissatisfied.

You lift your hand up and start using your pinkie nail to scrap the parts of eyeliner you'd begun to hate. Your attention remains here primarily, though you've never had issues multitasking.

"Still staring, Si'," you comment, having felt his gaze on you since you first put your foundation on. It's hard not to notice his eyes on you, given the weight that often came with them. A weight you'd happily hold.

"Wha', I can't enjoy the view?" He jokes, no doubt feeling just a bit more awake when he sees it's made you smile.

You look down at Simon, finally setting all your makeup back down on the dresser, wide-eyed with genuine concern, "Do I look OK?"

A small, crooked smile forms on his tattered lips as he chuckles to himself. Yes, you already knew what he was going to say, or what he wanted to say: you don't need the makeup. You could have your face completely done up or covered in mud, he would still love you. He would always love you.

Though he knew now, that's not the answer you were looking for. It took a while for him to understand that; he'd yet to understand the craftsmanship that truly came with applying makeup. However, seeing how happy you looked at the end of every makeup session all but spelled out the answer you'd really been looking for.

It wasn't about looking pretty or hiding, or even due to some superficial beliefs about womanhood or whatnot. You just really liked to do your makeup. And Simon just really loves to see you happy.

If this was something that made you smile, then it would always be a welcome thing to have around.

Simon sits up on the bed, letting his sturdy legs swing over the edge and his feet touch the soft carpet below. He reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you in so he could take a closer look at your work, the man still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Once comfortably boxed in by both his legs and arms, you let out a happy sigh, your gaze at eye level with him even as he still sat. Up close, with the dawn's light gently painting over his scarred skin, drawn by years of old stories he's only scarcely shared word of, he looked rather shy.

Every so often, when you traced over his skin while lying in bed, he'd oblige you with a story -- some heart-wrenching tale that only made you feel that much more endeared by him.

Sometimes he joked about wanting to wear makeup himself and cover all these ghastly sights on him. That way he didn't feel so vulnerable when your eyes would see them in all its miserable glory.

But you do what you have done since seeing them. You bring your touch to his skin, letting your fingers trace his scars' outlines and grooves, mending past traumas with your present-day love.

You look at Simon patiently, resting your hands against his broad shoulders. "Did the eyeliner fuck up the whole look?" You ask.

Simon's dark eyes bounce about your face, taking in the blush, the lipstick, the glitter and highlight, your brows, and then your eyes... His gaze sits still there, and any longer and you just might have started to feel yourself lean in.

"Hold on," his voice booms out suddenly, before he's brought his thumb to the corner of your cheek. A small bit of your mascara had dotted you, though he made sure to be as careful as possible with removing it for you. He hadn't wanted to mess up your hard work. "There you go."

He lowers his hand, taking another look at you. His expression softens, a smile forming. "Beautiful."

You smile, and it's everything and more he needed to start his day off with. Simon takes your hands, before pulling you even closer, until he's felt your lips take his sweetly.

It had been his favorite thing to start his mornings out like this, with just being able to hold you close to him, the sensation feeling as necessary as oxygen itself most days. When he'd kiss you, he only made up for that need by stealing your own breath away, his lips wrapped with yours like a sincere promise.

You cup your hands over his face, kissing him as you've felt his strong arms begin to wrap around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. It squeezes the air from you and makes you laugh in his arms, as you pull back from your kiss.

That's when your eyes go wide and you start to giggle. "Oops."

Your lipstick was now completely smeared over the man's mouth, rubbing off on his chin as though you'd just given him a newly colored five-o'clock shadow.

Immediately, Simon knows what's been done, as you're a repeat offender of this. He gives you a quizzical look and smirks. "How do I look?" He asks.

You lean back in, letting your lips feather over his.

"Beautiful."

[qrrieterisunnq]

Too Much - Trevor Zegras

trevor!zegras x fem!reader Summary: Y/n is so overwhelmed by everything happening in her life. One night she can’t keep it in, so she lets it out on the first person she has around herself, Trevor A/N: I don't really know what to say/text in here. Just enjoy this angst/fluff and happy rest of the day! requested: yes/no likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 0,7K warning(s): angst, overwhelmed reader, yelling, protective boyfriend Trevor

masterlist | wip's

It’s too much.

Everything is just too much.

Your work, your boss, your parents, and your life.

Everything is just so much on you.

You feel like the weight of the world is lying on your shoulders. If you screw something up everything is just gonna fall apart and you’ll be responsible for it.

With a sigh, you straighten yourself and let out a groan when your back cracks, relief spreading through your muscles. Standing up from your sitting position, you walk over to your room for the book you’ve been reading for the past few days.

You sat back on the couch, getting comfy under the blanket Trevor gave you for your third anniversary, last year. Sighing you let the book pull you into the plot, enjoying the presence of the characters in the book.

Even though you are so drawn into the plot, a voice pulls you out of it, an annoyed groan leaving your lips.

“I’m home!” Trevor yells from the hall announcing his arrival. You say nothing as you continue to read trying to ignore his presence. Not that you are unpleased he’s home, but right now, you need your peace and silence. “My legs are hurting! Couch had us do twenty laps and I’m so tired.” He complains making you roll your eyes. He sits down next to you, peaking from behind your shoulder on what are you reading.

“What?” you snap at him lightly, looking at him with bored eyes.

“Woah! Nothing just looking at what are you reading,” he raises his hands in the air. “No need to be so snappy.” he chuckles shaking his head as he pats your tight.

“I'm not snappy.” you look at him before your attention is back on your book.

Trevor's brows furrow in a thin line at his girl's behavior. He notices the little changes a few days ago, but he tells himself it's because of the big project she's been working on. But now, after the project was done, and she's still like this, he doesn’t know the cause.

“What’s going on babes?” he takes the book in his hands and places it next to him, earning your full attention. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” you snap at him, standing from your seat when you feel his hand touching your tight. “I’m acting the same, that’s the problem. I’m always the same person!” You shout, throwing your arms in the air. ”I’m always the one who does a slave for everyone around her. My parents, my boss, everyone.” You are heavy breathing with your hands on your hips.

“You aren’t a slave, y/n,” Trevor whispers, a small smile playing on his lips when he walks over to her. He places his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him. “You are an amazing human. Yeah maybe, sometimes, you are too nice to some people, but you are not a slave,” with a sigh, he cups her cheek and forces her to look him in the eyes. “I may not know what is going on now, but I know you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, my love.” He says with a smile playing on his lips. You rest your head on his chest, tears now sliding down your cheeks from the overwhelming stress that I slowly dripping down your shoulders.

“I am so sorry, that I snapped at you like that.” You cry out, wrapping your hands around his torso as you snuggle closer into him, breathing in his scent.

“That’s completely okay love, I know how it is when there is too much to hold in. You had to let it out. But next time, don’t hold it in for too long. I’m here to communicate with and help you, so use me as much as you want.” Trevor tickles your sides, trying to cheer you up, which he does when you giggle in his chest.

“I will, I promise,” you pull away from him, wiping away the tears and taking a deep breath. “And I’m really sorry. It’s just too much on me and I don’t know what to do first.”

“I get it, I have these times too,” He chuckles, walks over to his bag, and pulls out his hoodie as he tosses it on her. “Put it on.”

“Thank you.” You grin at him, slipping into the hoodie.

[zzoomacroom]

Retired amnesia Dream + coma Hob for WIP ask game please 🥺🥺🥺

Thank you for the ask! @linzod asked about this one too, and I'm super excited about it! I only have it outlined so far, but I'm hoping to write it once I'm done with the mpreg fic.

So Murphy is just some guy, as far as he knows. He's an artist, and he's kind of a shut-in with no friends and no life to speak of. He starts having really vivid dreams that, unbeknownst to him, are showing him memories of his past life. He also keeps having these recurring dreams where he meets with this guy named Hob who seems really familiar and keeps telling Murphy that he's real, he's been looking for him, he's trapped in the Dreaming and he needs Murphy to find him in the waking world. Murphy doesn't believe any of it, thinks his unconscious mind made the whole thing up, and he's like, "great, I'm so lonely that my sleeping mind made me an imaginary friend." But then he keeps finding clues suggesting that Hob is telling the truth. He goes to the White Horse and, even though it's abandoned and boarded up, he recognizes it from his dreams. He also maybe finds mentions of Hob in historical texts, the drawing of them from the 1789 meeting, etc. So now he understands that it's all true, and he has to find Hob and hopefully regain his memories in the process.

Now I'm going to put what's happening from Hob's perspective under the cut, because it's a plot twist that would be revealed later in the story.

So how did they end up in this situation? Well, after the Wake, Hob became more unhinged than ever and couldn't accept that Dream was dead. So he planned to do a whole "Dream of a Thousand Cats" style thing and have a thousand people dream that Morpheus is alive again. But in order to organize and orchestrate this whole plan, Hob puts himself into a magically induced coma so he can stay in the Dreaming and make sure the plan works. But once it does, he finds himself stuck there. The mysterious and sketchy person he hired to put him into this coma has disappeared, and now he's trapped with no way to wake up. Morpheus keeps finding him when he dreams, so Hob is overjoyed about that but heartbroken that Morpheus doesn't remember him and doesn't believe any of his dreams are real. Eventually, Morpheus finds Hob in the waking world, wakes him up, gets his memories back, and they live happily ever after.

I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that this fic will also feature Death, Delirium, Daniel, Lucienne, Matthew, Johanna Constantine and Mad Hettie.

Hopefully I'll actually be able to get it written before too long 😭

[wolfstarshipping]

wolfstar wips

So I'm using the @hprecfest day 12 prompt "a WIP you're following" to post a short rec list of WIPs that has been sitting in my drafts for so long now I even had to remove a fic that had been finished in the meanwhile!

Something rotten in Grimmauld Place by @plecotusauritus (8,802 words, Hamlet AU) This is a wolfstar Hamlet AU, need I say more?? I've never much cared or thought about Hamlet since I read it in school but this fic (almost) makes me want to reread Hamlet and I can't wait to see where the story goes next, I love the atmosphere this fic captures, the lovely writing style and just seeing all these characters we know so well fit into the plot of Hamlet is so, so cool!!

the oldest recipe for parsnip soup by @eyra (10.639 words, modern AU, christmas fic) Getting another fic by eyra for the holidays has been such a wonderful treat! I love the whole setting and the characters of this fic so much already, especially Sirius!! And the writing and all the descriptions are so, so beautiful, as always, highly recommend checking it out!!

Welcome to Aphrodite by @de-sire-blog & @rhabarberjunge (18.957 words, magical AU, secret identities) this is one of those fics I've read a while ago, but I keep thinking about it because I loved it so much. I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but the premise is Sirius finding a hidden, adults-only club that makes people's secret desires come true, and of course Sirius's secret desire is Remus... It's hot, it's fun, and it's incredibly angsty, I love it.

Stitched into My Skin by @squintclover (19.297 words, canon divergent AU, memory loss) I love the heartache and all the bittersweetness that comes with memory loss fics so much already, and I am so obsessed with the way it's been done in this fic. The premise of the fic is Peter casting a memory loss charm on Sirius on October 31st 1981, which leads to Remus raising Harry and randomly coming across Sirius years later, only Sirius doesn't remember him. I'm so intrigued by the first few chapters already and can't wait to see where the story goes next!

Marauder FM by @hollyivydruzy (26.402 words, modern AU, radio AU, enemies to friends to lovers) I know I've recced this fic before but I will never shut up about it because I love it, and especially this fic's Remus so, so much! It's an iconic, funny radio AU set in London, and I wish the radio shows from this fic were real because I would listen to Sirius's radio show every morning if I could. I just love the vibe of all of them working at the radio station together and the slow burn enemies to friends (to lovers) is so delicious!

The Patchwork of Us by @tracingpatternswrites (27.502 words, modern AU, enemies to lovers, co-parenting Teddy) This is such a lovely fic about Sirius and Remus navigating the difficult situation of co-parenting Teddy after Tonks dies, I love the domesticity and the enemies to lovers vibe of this fic so much!

The Picture of Sirius Black by @lynxindisguise (30.049 words, Dorian Gray AU) okay anyone who has ever seen my blog knows how much I love lynx's writing, which is why I am also obsessed with this fic, even though it's a genre I'm usually not that familiar with. It's a Dorian Gray AU, it's gothic horror but especially the first few chapters are also giving victorian romcom with murder sideplot vibes (and I mean this as the biggest compliment), this fic will make you laugh and cry and want to murder some of these characters yourself maybe.

Only Fools Are Satisfied by grumposaur (@pancakehouse) (38.353 words, modern AU, tennis AU). I really love the exploration of Sirius's family dynamics in the context of him being a professional athlete in this fic, and Remus with his tanlines and freckles is everything!!

Neon Moon by @krethes (47.698 words, modern AU, cowboy stripper Remus AU, Las Vegas) I didn't know how much I needed Remus to be a stripper and a cowboy before I read this fic, but now I do and I love him!! The whole premise of them meeting at a strip club while Sirius is out on James's bachelor party is so iconic, and the vibes of the fic are just overall excellent, highly recommend checking it out!

on another ocean by @colgatebluemintygel (118.148 words, modern AU, backpacking/interrail, friends with benefits) Where do I even start? This is an incredible fic, one of my all time faves, I've reread some of the chapters several times now and am so obsessed with this fic's Remus in his socks and sandals, driving Sirius crazy with lust. Also I will not spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it, but the scene in the budapest chapter in the club bathroom features one of my favorite Sirius moments of all time, across all universes haha.

marginalia by @spindrifters (266.547 words, magical AU, canon divergent AU - Grindelwald won, slavery AU) I'm having a hard time trying to put my love for this fic into words in just a short paragraph. This fic is so unique in its setting, and it's so beautifully written and asks & answers the question "what if Grindelwald had won?" in such an incredible, highly political and also very immersive way, if you haven't read it already I really recommend checking it out (as well as the already complete Tedromeda spinoff set in the same world, history books!!!).

Staying Strangers by 3amAndCounting (319,368 words, modern AU, texting fic, university AU). This is one of my comfort fics, I love a good texting AU, this is quite a popular fic anyways but if you haven't read it and like modern AUs & texting fics (though it isn't all just texting) go check it out!

[dark-side-blog3]

Ignore that this Home Alone inspired poly adeuce fic is a month late. Or choose to read it for 2024 Christmas, up to you.

I had a lot of fun writing this! Put it into a word counter just for fun, and I'm surprised to see that my first real WIP I finished in 2024 is 3k long! It was just so fun to imagine a twist one of my favourite Christmas movies, and I got so caught up in the fun of it I didn't make my deadline ^^; It was originally meant to be a short little crackfic, but it was just too fun! There are some cracky, campy elements, but that's just in the spirit of the movie I based it off!

Anyways: MDNI, warnings for standard yandere things, and creepy crawlies.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Shouldn't we be pouring salt on the pathway?"

"Nah," you smile, splashing another bucket of water on the front steps. "This is so we can have a nice slip-and-slide for tobogganing tomorrow, Grim! Same reason I'm filling up a little ice rink in the back-- I wanna do some skating. I can't wait for it to freeze over and teach you how!"

Grims' head shakes fervently as he beams; "Just you wait! I'll show you the grace and speed of a master figure skater! I'm gonna be teaching YOU how to skate by the time we're done!"

"Well if you wanna do that, you're gonna need to be well rested. Can you grab us some cookies for before-bed snacks?" you encourage, the monster agreeing and scampering off inside the dorm house to pilfer the cupboard.

You continue pouring water on the steps and trudge around the house's perimeter to check on the steps leading outside to make sure they're freezing over like you intended. You have several other home security measures to check over...

Most of the staff, and students for that matter, went home for the holidays. Family to see, vacations to take... A life to live outside of the school and other people in it. Should anything happen, Crowley was unfortunately unavailable (what else is new, the old bastard), nor was Vargas, Trein, or Crewl. Normally they'd be spattered throughout the holiday to watch over the students. But there are other teachers on the premises, and hardly any students who can't return home for whatever reason, and they let it slip by... One night during the whole winter break when none of your trusted faculty members nor any of your more powerful friends like Malleus or Idia could help if you got into trouble.

And maybe, maybe your brain has been rotted by movies and defending yourself from overblotted students.

But it's better safe than sorry.

With everything seemingly in order, and the sun setting quickly behind the treeline of school woods, you rush over to the front gate to hang a large sign:

NO SOLICITORS

Hopefully, this will deter anyone planning to intrude on you tonight.

You trudge your way back to the front door, carefully avoiding the steps. You spend the next few hours snacking with Grim while watching movies together, playing card games, and chattering about what ifs and would you rather... Before too long, it's time for bed, and Grim is out like a light, thanks to several pounds of turkey stuffing, potatoes, and cookies you still had after the holiday party days ago.

The party was fun... It did leave you with more leftovers you knew what to do with, which is always great. You got to wish Rook Joyeuses Fête, decorate cookies with Jack and Jade (the merman being much better at decorating, likely due to working in the lounge), and say goodbye to everyone dear to you before they left for their own plans... But it also had Ace and Deuce.

Which, on the one hand, they're harmless. You know they are. They're just jerks sometimes.

They should be focusing on their studies, and you had to devote your time to keeping Ramshakle clean, and Grim on task to graduate... The little monster became somewhat of a family member. Surrogate son or little brother you're not entirely sure, but you want him to succeed.

And even if the pair of heartslabyul boys were gifted students that excelled at every course with time to spare, Grim wasn't-- Grim needed your help to study, to get to class, to handle some of his projects for him when his paws would cause accidents in the potion lab. Grim needs your help to get through college, and it keeps you way too busy for a relationship with either guy.

And even though they soured the mood of the party right after you told them as such, it's the truth, and that's what it is. You're not going to jeopardize Grim's future just to date college students.

They acted like jerks for the rest of the winter break.

When everyone was opening presents, they bitched at everyone for the gifts they exchanged, teased relentlessly, knocked over decor, and told each classmate going through the magic mirror over the week to 'take their time coming back, if at all'. Poor Idia had an anxiety attack when they started teasing him; it took you half an hour to calm him down enough to stop puking and stick to just dry heaving. Grim scampered off after Idia fainted a second time... It took another hour after that to help him through the magic mirror, with his robot escorts. You would have walked through with him, but he insisted holding your hand as he left would be enough, only dragging you somewhat through the portal.

It was rubbing you the wrong way how they were picking fights with everyone, and snubbing Grim anytime they saw you and the monster around campus.

Suddenly, the front gates screech open, drawing you out of your thoughts. You peek out the sliver of the window from behind the thick curtain in the bedroom to see two figures shuffle through the snow.

It can't be them. Even if you were just thinking of them, that would be too... Convenient. Like some movie logic. Thinking of people doesn't summon them.

Whoever it is will be getting a nasty surprise in three, two, one--

A muffled thud and string of curses can be heard from the other side of the glass. You sneak your way down the stairs so you can at least see who's at the door.

"Son of a--! Grim!" Deuce shouts. So much for not summoning them.

"Open the door, little buddy! We know that you're in there and that you're all alone... Your precious prefect is spending the last night of the winter break with someone else, right?" Ace yells, quickly being joined by a snickering and rapping at the door.

A shadow presses itself against the window, trying to peer through sheer curtains. You duck behind one of the striped couches on the outside of the room, close to the walls. Through the reflection of the glass cabinet, you can see the figure stay and linger at the window, tapping against the glass with a small can.

"Come on Grim. We've got tuna for ya if you just open the door and have a chat..." Deuce says, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yells through the glass.

His shadow straightens up, before pounding back on the glass, rattling the old pane against the tight frame, the narrow strips of wood being tight enough together that neither of them could just force their way through the window; Even if they shattered all the glass.

Which Deuce just might, slamming himself into the frame as hard as he could.

"I saw you move in there! Don't ignore us!" He shatters a pane, shoving his hand through to grab at the sheer curtains and tug, ripping them.

You duck back behind the couch, scanning for tools to protect yourself. Shut up. Don't be stupid, just think. Think quick, and smart.

The banging stops for a second. Before becoming far louder-- powerful enough to feel the floor shake. Metal creaks against its hinges, and the lock crashes into the strike plate of the door.

Ignore that, focus. Cleaning supplies. Always nearby, the dorm is filthy. Dish soap and mop bucket.

You dart out from behind the couch to grab the bottle of dish soap, grabbing it and rolling up against the wall just in time as the banging stops, the door knob jiggles and a thin wire pokes itself out from the cracks between the door frame. It makes quick work of the locks on the door, before opening, and Ace proudly struts into the room. The second he does, you pop the cap and squeeze the bottle, squirting bright blue goop into his eyes and smarmy mouth! And you splurt the floor for good measure!

You sprint back to behind the couch he pulls back, sputtering, and wiping it from his eyes in thick globs. You watch through the reflection of the cabinet as Deuce shoves his way past Ace as he splatters fistfuls of goop onto the floor, next to the bottle of leaking dish soap. Ace shoves Deuce for the push, and the resulting shove has both of them slipping on the puddle of dish soap you left in your hurry.

"Ahg-- Ace?! Why are you on the floor?"

A visibly wet smack as dish soap arches off Ace's gloves, slapping damply right into Deuce's face as he grunts from under his classmate: "Get off me, you buffoon! Go find the cat-- Grim, I'm gonna skin you for this, you little creep!"

"Don't make threats until after we have the little rat, runt. If he goes tattling we're screwed--"

"There's no one to tattle to! He's all alone in this big house! Even the ghosts aren't here! If we stick his claws in an electrical socket or force-feed him motor oil, no one would think anything of it! He's just a dumb animal that killed himself without supervision!"

Something glints from under the couch. You grasp at it, finding a spare ornament, and an unused ziptie, threaded through the top. There's got to be something you can use to create a bigger distraction and get you and Grim out of here.

There has to be something in reach-- going back to the bucket in plain sight of them is too risky. Shoving your hand under the couch, your clutch the first thing that your grasp: An aerosol room freshener. Score.

Wrapping the ziptie around the spray trigger, you tighten it and roll it over to the boys, still scrambling about on the floor. You watch from the reflection in the cabinet as Deuce gets a heavy spray right in the eyes, hollering in pain!

"AUGH-- Fucker! You think you're so smart, punk?! Your little bomb just gave away your position!" Deuce shouts, whipping out his magic pen, covering his eyes.

You feel a sense of dread. Primal instinct. You leap out from behind the couch just as he summons a caldron to crash into the couch, narrowly missing you as it smashes the solid oak to splinters. Splinters stick to your socks, embedding in your feet as you scamper off to another room, streams of water and gusts of wind being shot after you.

Just as you turn the corner to climb up the stairs and rush to Grim's room, you hear Ace curse exasperatedly, stumbling his way to the end of the hall to stare at you, still wiping his eyes on his sleeves. Another string of sighed curses leaves his lips as he watches you scramble up the stairs, making accidental eye-contact.

They know their plans are botched now.

Gotta climb faster.

On all fours, you claw up the stairs, just as a tug on your ankle forces your jaw to slam into them. Casting a glance backwards, Ace has gripped your ankle with his sticky gloves, grinning madly as you struggle to tug your ankle away from him, and try to dodge the other one of his hands trying to grasp for your other leg, only to end up sloppily groping your ass before trying again. You try to shake and kick him off, getting a hits to the side of his head, but not as effective as if you had room to wind up. He's gripping so hard it feels like he's going to break something. You scramble, shifting your weight side to side to get him off, prying yourself off the stairs and scratching your nails into the old wood. Your nails cling to the baseboard, prying the edge as much as you can, the wood creaking and snapping off with each desperate tug to pull yourself up.

The baseboard snaps, and you find yourself with a small wooden shiv, thinking to whip around and stab it into Ace's hand, leading him to retract for a second long enough for you to scramble up a step again-- before being slammed back down into the wood as you're grabbed again.

A girthy, irrate red centipede wiggles its way out from the hole in the baseboard, defensive of the now-ruined home.

You snatch it up, close to the head and the snapping mandibles as it wriggled and writhed, as you slowly reached back around to Ace, still clinging to your legs as you tried to shake him off. The teen was so focused on keeping you still as he pulled some ducttape off the roll with his teeth, that he didn't see the massive, snakelike body of the centipede until it was too late; And you stick it right on his face.

He seemed to freeze, giving you enough time to tug your leg again, just as he screamed an ear-piecing shriek!

Ace pawed at his face squirming violently on the stairs, thumping loudly on each step back to the bottom as you sprinted your way upstairs, into Grims room, slamming and locking the door behind you!

"What the hell is wrong--"

"PSYCHO PREFECT IS WHAT! Is it in my hair? Fucking thing was thick as a finger, and they put it right on my face! Is it in my hair?!"

"The prefect is home?! Dude! We're so screwed!"

"So go up there and get them, dipshit! Why are you standing still when they're up there getting a fucking bear trap or something ready?! Are you having an aneurysm or something?! Why are you just staring at me like that?!"

"...Ace... Don't... Move."

"Deuce... What are you talking about? Go get them-"

"Don't. Move."

"Deuce..?"

The telltale crash of a cast iron cauldron smashing through your rotten wood floors makes you nearly shit yourself, glancing back at a sleep-stirring Grim.

"DID I GET IT?"

"YOU ALMOST CRUSHED MY SKULL YOU NUTCASE!"

"DID I GET IT?!"

"You fucking moron!"

You snatch Grim up, using the blanket he was sleeping with like a hobo bag to hold him in, and open the window, edging your way carefully onto the roof. If you can just make safely to the other side of Ramshackle, you can try scaling down the ivy. And it will at least give you a head start-- Maybe hiding out in Sams is the best idea. A store owner must have a CCTV, right? And if Ace and Deuce try and kill either of you, then even if something happens to you, they'll get caught...

You wrap the corners of Grims blanket around your shoulders, like a makeshift baby pouch. You can definitely feel him squirming on your back, starting to wake up. You let go of the window, slipping down the rough roof tile. Laying on your stomach, you side-shuffle over, staying as low to the roof as you can to get the most traction. The edge nearly takes you by surprise when your foot doesn't connect with length that's not there. Slowly, you shuffle even closer to the edge, swaying your arm around the edge to find the vines of Ivy.

"I FOUND 'EM, ACE!"

Your head whips around to see Deuce leaning as far as he can out of the window before he scrambles to get onto the roof.

Whipping your head back to focus, you grab a fistful of vines and pull the rest of your body off the roof! You snatch another fistful with your other hand as you fall.

And fall all the way down, watching in horror as the ivy peels itself from the brick walls.

You feel Grim claw his way out of the pouch and onto your face just in time, as you land on your back with a sickening crunch.

"Oh shit," Ace comments, seemingly having been waiting for you at the bottom of the wall. You see Grim flee across the yard out of the corner of your eye, unable to lift your head.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot, and Deuce panting like crazy soon joins Ace in staring at you as you lay helpless on the ground. As soon as he arrives he gets asked: "Are we gonna get Grim?"

"No point, really..." Comes the huffed response; "We were gonna get him to fuck off, and he's fucked right off. Tonight didn't really go to plan anyway."

A boot gently kicks at your side as Ace turns his attention back to you: "Are you paralyzed or something? That was quite the fall."

You open your mouth to speak, but only a cracked whine makes it out. You cringe and try again, but nothing intelligible comes out.

"Holy shit, they're brain-damaged!" Ace grins, laughing as he backs away from you.

You feel Deuce tugging at your legs in the snow, dragging you from your shallow ditch in the snow. He begins tugging you closer to the dorm, before he drops your legs, moving to grab you under your arms and haul you that way, up against a wall. Breaking a window, he shoves you in, head first. The cold floors of Ramshackle are still warmer than the ice and snow.

"Alright. Hey, real quick, can you feel this?" Deuce begins poking you with a wire from an ornament, starting with your legs, and making his way up on both sides. You nod, wincing at some particularly sharp pricks, to which Deuce responds by rubbing the area to dull the pain.

"Can you say where you are right now? Do you know who I am? Who you are?" You nod again, voice stumbling through a pained response.

"Awesome. You're not brain-damaged! You're probably just winded from the fall. Is anything broken? Can you wiggle your fingers and toes? Try twisting side to side. If you can't it means your spine might be broken, and you need a doctor."

You comply, weirded out by the sudden care, but the doctor comment means they will call someone. And that someone will keep you safe, and them away. The pain's already fading, and likely nothing serious, but you could trick them... Deuce particularly seems like a soft touch. You wince as you try to twist, feigning inability.

Deuce makes a worried expression, like he's about to piss himself from fear.

He backs off slightly, giving you a bit more breathing room: "Try crossing your arms and lifting them as far away from your ribs as you can".

You comply again, feigning difficulty,

And duct tape wraps around your wrists instantly. Deuce presses his knee down into your chest to pin you down as he wraps as tightly as he can, while Ace ties your legs from outside.

"This really, really isn't my style. But we've got to get you somewhere that is not here when the teachers come back tomorrow, and we can't have Grim knowing where to find you." Deuce rambles, soaking his glove in a bottle of something, before pressing it to your face. He continues rambling, leaning in closer to whisper: "And I know how this looks! But I promise we won't do anything to you while you sleep. Or when you wake up! I swear! It's all more normal than it seems tonight-- or it can be anyways. And... And if you give me some time, give me a chance, we can even ditch Ace and forget this night ever happened! You just need some time somewhere else..."

The room spins with dark spots as Deuce presses his soaked glove further into your face. He continues rambling at you, while you feel Ace begin dragging you back out the window again. The snow doesn't feel cold this time as you fall into it. It just feels soft.