#time and time again I ask myself okay and when do I get to hurt her for hurting this sweet man

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Nina

Request: streamer!Reader has a game going and their monster bf (dealer's choice!) comes in without paying attention/doesn't care/etc. solely to pay you back for some teasing earlier that morning?

A/N: Couldn’t hold myself back from the joke that there’s a troll under the… desk. Lol. Enjoy!

Under the desk

Troll x fem!reader || oral sex, teasing, edging, orgasm denial (lowkey)

You feel a hot caress against the outside of your leg and you jerk up, kicking your feet and covering your mouth so your chuckle is not heard over the mic. You look down to see your boyfriend there, kneeling under the desk and looking as cute and adorable as ever. You arch an eyebrow at him, happy that your camera is turned off right now because you don’t want people noticing something is happening.

He puts a finger over his lips, a clear sign that he wants you to be quiet. He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick text. It reads “don’t make a sound, I think it’s time for you to pay”. You look down at him, excusing yourself on the mic for a second.

“Excuse me for a second, I need to let my cat out of the room,” you lie. There’s a flood of messages on your chat, many people asking for you to show the cat, some others telling you it’s okay… But you are already looking at your boyfriend under the desk. “Pay for what? I didn’t do anything to you!” You try not to sound too offended, but you fail. You are offended.

“First: you kicked me two seconds ago,” he tells you, his mouth frowning on a cute blueish pout.

You chuckle caressing the side of his face. “Aww, poor troll, did your human girlfriend hurt you?” You use your most condescending and teasing tone, laughing harder when he growls.

“That’s a second offense there, girlfriend.” His tone is borderline dark, and you have to press your thighs together to avoid whimpering. Fuck, he knows exactly what that tone does to you.

“You didn’t explain what I did!” You tell him when he grabs both of your ankles, parting your legs slowly.

He stops, looking up at you with a smirk and dark eyes. “You walked around the house with those tiny shorts tempting me as I was at a meeting, now is my turn to tease you.”

You are shocked by his words, what does he mean? He gifted you those shorts! “What? I was wearing your gift!” You know he’s not buying your lie, a green eyebrow arched as he smirks. You did put on those shorts on to tease him as he was in a video-call with his boss. And you might have moved your ass a bit more than necessary in front of him as you passed. Guess you aren’t as subtle as you thought.

“Turn on the mic, and don’t let your followers know what is happening under the desk. If you are good I’ll even let you come…” You shiver at his promise, knowing fully well what he’s capable off. He’d played with you countless times, and some of those, when you had been particularly bratty, he’d edged you until you were crying. (You loved when that happened.)

“But I…” You try to argue again, not really putting any effort behind it. Your pussy is already wet just thinking about him playing with you under the desk as nobody notices. It scratches a part of your exhibitionism kink you didn’t know you had.

He grunts: “Now, darling.” And your whole body melts, your legs parting as you comply.

You turn the mic on and start talking about some stupid thing that happened when you went shopping a couple days ago, a naga almost running you over with a shopping cart. There’s laughter on your chat as you sort out the different things you need for your trip to the mine in the game.

He caresses your legs, softly inhaling against your skin and kissing every inch of skin he can, getting closer and closer to your center as you try not to sound breathless over the mic. People seem obvious to what’s happening under your desk, and you can feel your pulse accelerating by the idea of somebody realizing. You don’t want that… but the thought of it makes you want to moan.

His rough tongue hits your pussy suddenly, and you have to bite your lip hard not to let out a sound. Your character in the game moves to the side and the chat asks what’s happening. You let out a giggle, telling them you accidentally pinched your side with the chair and you can feel the huff of silent laughter against your most sensitive skin as your troll boyfriend laughs. The fucker…

He starts slow as you keep playing, talking about non-sense and trying to keep using your cheerful tone. His tongue feels divine against your hole, you can feel the gush of juices running down your pussy just to be caught by his dexterous tongue. You have to bite your lip a couple times to avoid letting out a loud moan.

Every time you stop talking, he stops his ministrations, and you have to hold back a whimper and a plea. You try to remain focused, but you know you are fucking it up, some low level monsters almost killing you as you fumble with the mouse to change from your pickaxe to your sword.

You move your hips against his face, trying to rub your clit with his nose and he nips at your labia, making you jump a little. A warning. You can’t take as much as you want, he’s the one in control… The reminder only makes you want to do it again, but he uses one of his hands to anchor you to the chair.

He pushes two big fingers inside of you, stretching you as he finger-fucks your welcoming pussy. You are praying to whoever is listening that the lewd sounds of your wet pussy aren’t being caught by your mic, but at that point you aren’t sure you even care.

You try to remain cheerful, but with each movement of his fingers in and out of you, you can feel your climax getting closer and closer, his rough tongue feels amazing against your clit and you are seconds away from coming.

He pinches the outside of your thigh, pushing you away from your impeding climax, and making you let out a low whine that has your face turning as red as a tomato as he stops his movements, looking up at you and someone in the chat lets out a thousand questions about what’s happening.

That happens at least ten more times. You don’t know how much time passes, you only know the feel of his tongue against your pussy and his fingers rubbing against your G-spot. With each second, you are more incoherent, and your movements are more sharp. Your brain is jelly as you keep talking, making every single noob mistake you can as he edges you, denying your orgasm every time you feel it coming.

You are desperate and trembling, your brain disconnected when you decide enough was enough. “Fuck,” you mumble, and then louder you say: “Sorry guys, an emergency came up, see you tomorrow!” You rush out as you close all windows on your computer and let out the longest and most lewd sound ever.

Your troll looks up at you with amusement in his eyes, his fingers curling inside of you as he rubs your G-spot over and over. Your eyes roll back into your head and you push your legs over his shoulders, grabbing his hair and pushing his head harder against your needy pussy.

“Please, please, please… I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be good. Let me come, please!” You know your words mean nothing, but when he pulls back a fraction just to say: “Come for me,” you are done.

Your hips rock against his face, and the second his tongue makes contact with your clit, you are coming all over his face, gushing juices all over and screaming at the top of your lungs. The orgasms with him are always incredible, but after all the teasing and edging, that one is earth-shattering.

He chuckles when you come down from your high, probably looking pathetic and sweaty. “I know you lied, darling, I know you won’t be good for me.” He cleans some of the mess you made with his hand, taking licking your juices off it as you pant.

“But you love when I’m bratty,” you let out in a whisper. You feel boneless, your whole body spent as he pushes back your chair and stands up between your legs. His hips are at face level now, and you are already salivating thinking about the possibilities.

“Yeah… I really do. Now… What are you going to do about this,” he points down at his very hard and very angry-looking blueish dick.

You smirk up at him, not getting up from the chair as you open your mouth and look at him from under your lashes. He smirks, grabbing your head with his big hand and feeding you his cock.

Yeah, you’d definitely would do it again if this is the punishment you get.

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep | chapter nine

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 5k

chapter summary: Without Bodhi, Ania navigates her new signet with the help of Xaden. It's Reunification Day. What could go wrong?

tags: slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, she falls first he falls harder, majority canon compliant, some canon deviance, eventual smut, angst with a happy ending, additional tags to be added

AO3 masterlist

seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

He says it like a bad thing. 

The sour taste that's in my mouth is hard to swallow as I slowly crawl off of him. 

However the second he says it, things become clear to me. 

"You say it like it's a bad thing," I repeat the words, out loud this time. I'm not sure I can hide the hurt in my voice. My heart feels like it's in my stomach when he won't look at me.

"It's a death sentence. You can't tell anyone," He whispers. 

Xaden told me to find him if it manifested. He was the reason it manifested and now he was pulling away. 

"I didn't know I was until just now," I wrap my arms around myself feeling small, "You can't even be sure I am."

An inntinnsic. Out of all the second signets in the world, the one I manifested is a fucking death sentence. 

He stands up from the bed, and I cannot help but grab his arm. Please don't pull away.

"Where are you going?" My voice cracks and the sadness filling my chest is enough to rattle the furniture in my room. 

"I can't be around you right now," He says and I sit up on my knees. 

"Wait, please," I plead, "I-I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Bodhi. Please, I won't do it again." 

It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it. I would never push my feelings onto him. Especially not something like desire. I didn't know it was something I could do. 

"I have to go," He pulls himself from my grip and I can't stop the tears that spill from my eyes. 

The lights in my room burn brighter and I don't flinch when they eventually burst. There are too many emotions swimming in my head but I know that they're all mine. 

An empath is what he called me. I've never heard of it before but I'm not stupid enough not to realize that it's a form of inntinnsic. 

Guilt sinks in and I regret kissing him. These were my emotions. 

This is what I get for letting him in. For allowing myself to think that I could find a semblance of happiness here. Months of back and forth, shutting him and Xaden out, and the second I'm fully ready to trust this is what happens. 

He's afraid to be around me now. Afraid that I'll push my feelings onto him again. Maybe I am better off dead with Carr snapping my neck. There's a reason signets like this are a capital offense. 

I ignore my better judgment when I crawl from my bed and leave my room. I can't stand the idea of being alone right now, but I also don't know who to go to. I feel like this is a girl issue but Violet hates me right now for a reason I'm unaware of and Rhiannon is on Violet's side always. I'm not chasing after Bodhi and I refuse to bother Xaden right now.

It takes me several moments to knock on the door when I finally stop outside of it and when I do a few more for who it belongs to to open it. 

"Ania," Ridoc says, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You okay?"

The tears have yet to cease and I'm sure I look like a disaster, "Can I please stay here tonight?" 

He looks me over once, the look in his eyes softening when he sees that I'm crying, "Of course." 

He crawls back into bed and lifts the covers for me and I slide in next to him. Respectfully, he leaves space between us.  

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks softly. 

I contemplate how I could even tell him why I'm crying without revealing something that'll get me killed if he decides to tell anyone else.

"Does it have to do with Bodhi? I saw you leave the flight field with him," He continues. "Do I have to kill him?"

He manages to get a small laugh out of me and I sigh softly when he reaches out the brush the tears from my cheeks. 

"I trusted him and I shouldn't have," I whisper. 

"Did he hurt you?" He asks and moves to sit up, but I put my hand on his shoulder to make him lay back down.

"Not like that," I shake my head. 

"Because we can get the whole squad together and take him out," Ridoc says and I laugh again. "I'm serious." 

"I know you are," I say, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "Thank you."

"You're not gonna try to kiss me again are you?" He asks and I punch his shoulder. 

"Don't act like you didn't like it," I laugh. 

"You hit too hard to be playful," He groans and I can see him holding his shoulder in the moonlight that illuminates his room.

"I wasn't being playful," I smile, wiping the last of my tears. "Can we go to bed now?"

Without another word, he rolls over and is snoring within minutes. 

After a night of fighting Ridoc to share the blanket, he's the one who gently slaps me awake. 

"I don't want to go," I groan. Despite not sleeping much last night, it did give me time to think about the revelation of my new signet.

Knowing that there's a chance I'll see Bodhi in formation hurts and I don't want the reminder of how he pulled away from my touch last night. 

"We can pretend to be sick," Ridoc offers as he pulls his tunic over his head. "Come on, you need to get dressed."

"We have maneuvers later and I will not have you rot in bed at the fault of a man," Gleigeal says and I know he's right. I can't hide in my room all day.

Flying will make me feel so much better, regardless of whether I see Bodhi or not. I'm appreciative that Gleigeal gave me the space I needed last night to process everything, but now I have questions. 

"Am I inntinnsic?" I ask. 

"That's to be determined," He replies and I glare at the wall I'm staring at. 

"That's not an answer," I roll my eyes. 

"You will have the answers you desire soon, Ania," Gleigeal says. "Until then, I'm closing the channel."

Ridoc sits on my bed while I get dressed and I half expect Bodhi to come knocking on the door. Violet, Sawyer, and Rhi are standing outside of her door, whispering amongst each other when they see Ridoc and I exit my room. I can't be bothered by what they're thinking at this point. 

After Battle Brief, we're headed to the flight field when Xaden appears.

"Wingleader," Dain says and I know he's fighting the urge to clench his fists, "What can I help you with."

"I'm pulling Cadet Alistair from maneuvers today," Xaden says and I immediately glance at Violet, who tightens her jaw. 

Great.

"Right," Dain says and nods turning to face me, "Cadet Alistair, you're released."

I try to ignore the way my squad looks at me as I fall in line with Xaden's step. He leads me to his room and I know that we're about to have a conversation about last night. Good to know that Bodhi immediately ran to his cousin after leaving me alone. 

"Did he tell you?" I ask as I sit on his bed. I know we'll be in here for a while. 

"He told me what he thinks happened. The accusation alone is enough to get you killed," He says, "I want to hear it from your perspective." 

"I thought about it last night," I say and he pulls up a chair to sit in front of me. "If he's right, then it manifested when the light did. Or maybe even before. I initially thought I was the one projecting my feelings, but I don't think that's true." 

"Walk me through it," He leans back in the chair, one leg propped up on the other. 

"Trust the wingleader," Gleigeal says. "He wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on you for what you are." 

"So I am one then?" I say down the bond. 

"I didn't say that," My dragon has a sense of humor that I'm not particularly fond of. 

"When I manifested the light, I could feel his fear. I had my own of course, but he felt different. It kind of," I look for the words, raising my hand to my chest, "Seeped into my chest. Became one with mine." 

"You felt it molding into one?" He asks, his brows furrowed in concentration as he listens intently. 

"Yes and again last night. I wanted what was happening. But I could feel that he did too." I say. "At the moment, it was hard to dictate what was mine, but after thinking about it, the strands are different before they entangle." 

"You absorbed his emotions and made them your own," He says and I nod.

"At one point, I think I subconsciously knew what was happening, because I pushed a thought outward and his anxiety disappeared for a moment," I explain, trying to recall every single moment. 

"Interesting," He nods. 

"He realized before I did and when he said it, it kind of made sense," I shrug my shoulders, fiddling with my shoelace now. I try to halt the rejection building in my chest, "He left like he was afraid of me."  

Xaden clears his throat and leans forward, "He wasn't afraid of you. He was afraid of what'll happen to you if anyone finds out." 

They'll kill me, I know. I don't want to say it out loud. 

"I'm gonna help you control it, Ania. I won't let this be your downfall," He says and I nod. 

Xaden and I spend the day in his room and Gleigeal cracks the channel open a tiny bit to practice sorting emotions. 

"The biggest concern is that you take in too many emotions at once and combust, but you've gotten this far without having that issue, so I think we're in the clear there," Xaden says.

My eyes are closed and I'm sitting in the Riorson House library, watching the tendrils of Gleigeal's crimson power filter in through the window. 

"Choose a color for your emotions so you know that they're yours. Everyone else's can be a different color," His voice sounds distant when I'm here. "What do you feel right now?"

"I feel mellow, I guess?" The mage lights in the library shift to a deep green color. 

"I'm going to think on something and I want you to try and pick up on it," He says and I can hear his footsteps pacing back and forth slowly. 

The library around me stays the same and I wait patiently to feel something. The sparks of Gleigeal's pattern brighten and I can feel him opening the channel further. 

"Are you doing-"

My chest warms and I have to force myself to breathe after an overwhelming feeling settles over me. My fingers tingle and my heart rate picks up. The subtle feeling of fear laces with the warmth and my brows furrow. It's strong and I look around the library to try and find where it's coming from. 

On one of the tables in the center of the library, under the evergreen lights, sits a book open to a page. As I approach the table, the feeling grows stronger. Small golden fibrils sprout from the pages, swirling around one another until they meet the green light from the mage lights. 

I reach my finger out slowly, touching the golden strings and the feeling is immense.

It feels like home and finding your person after what feels like an eternity of searching. It's the hesitation before the first kiss. It's the unimaginable terror of losing everything in the process. The weight of responsibility you feel to ensure nothing will ever happen to those you love. It's unimaginably beautiful and equally terrifying. 

"Cut it off," Xaden says and I do just that. I slowly close the book watching as the fibrils crawl back down into the page. 

"What were you thinking about?" I ask once I open my eyes, but I think I know the answer. 

He takes a beat and then sits back in the chair. 

"Violet," I say softly. 

His silence is the confirmation I need and I nod my head. 

"That feeling," I pause and purse my lips, "I feel it too." 

He nods his head and we sit in a comfortable silence for a moment. 

"I trust that he'd take care of you," Xaden says finally, "Which is why I'm not bashing his head through a wall." 

A breathy laugh falls off my lips and I look out the window, "Still protective as ever."

"It's the only way I can ensure everyone I care about is safe," Xaden says and I lock eyes with him. He cares about me.

"It aches sometimes, you know?" I shift the subject back to the original conversation. It's hard for him to talk about these things, I don't want to push it.  

"Oh, I know," He sighs. "It'll sort itself out, little Alistair. Just give it time." 

I'm not ready to fully admit it to myself, so I don't. But Xaden has caught on. 

I don't ask him how he knows how to handle my signet, but I think I know. Something tells me that we might have it in common. I don't think he's exactly like me, but I think we'd both be killed if anyone found out.

"We'll meet as often as we can before I leave to try and get it a hundred percent under control," Xaden says when we stop in front of my door. 

"Thank you for today," I say, looking up at him. 

"Anytime, Ania," The tiniest smile etches on his lips, and then he's off.  

When he's out of my line of sight, I see Violet and Rhiannon coming down the hall. They're whispering to each other, I'm sure about Xaden once again outside my room. And pulling me from maneuvers. He's pulled her plenty of times, but I know it's an issue when it comes to me. Because today, I got a glimpse into Xaden's head. She'll talk to me when she's ready, but I consider going to her first. I don't have it in my today, drained from training with Xaden so I seclude myself in my room. 

Xaden's been helping me twice a week when he can, even if that means occasionally pulling me from class. I can now clearly decipher which emotions belong to me and which are foreign. I've even worked on pushing my own emotions onto him, which is much harder and takes a world of concentration, but he's confident with more practice I'll be able to perfect it. 

He's leaving in ten days and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to miss him. He's like Beckett in so many ways and I wish he were still here to see it. If he hadn't been here to help me train my signet, I don't know what I would've done. 

Today of all days is brutal for me every single year. It's been six years since my entire world went to shit.

Six years of no Aretia. No Riorson House. No Mom and Dad. No Beckett. 

The book is open in the Riorson House library as I walk through the corridors toward Battle Brief. 

As I pass several marked ones, I'm met with a plethora of feelings. Anger, sadness, and grief are among those most prevalent. I allow it to melt into my chest, merging into one with my own grief. This day is so different to us that have relics on our arms. I can feel the change in tone when I finally take my seat in the Battle Brief room. 

I look around and Xaden catches my eye. He gives a small nod and I return it. I feel his also joining everyone else's settling in my chest. As I turn back to the front of the room, my eyes land on Bodhi.

We haven't spoken since that night the empathy manifested and I don't know if that's on my accord or his. 

"Why is it you're choosing to torture yourself with the anguish of others," Gleigeal asks. 

"It's not just theirs. It's mine too," I reply, tearing my gaze from Bodhi's. 

"Do not make me close the channel," He threatens. "And stop with the longing looks at the one who betrayed you."

"Betrayed is an extremely strong word," I fire back. "Also, 'longing looks'?" 

Gleigeal chuffs, "I do not take it lightly that he stranded you that night." 

Yeah, me either. I also don't take it lightly that we're not speaking at the moment. I'm not really speaking to anyone at the moment. I see my squadmates in class and for maneuvers, but unless I'm honing my signet with Xaden, I'm locked away in my room. Ridoc stops in every couple of nights to check in on me, but other than that, I've distanced myself from them again. 

The strand that I know is Xaden's shifts to a slightly different color, and I look around the room. Violet, who's sitting next to me seems to be lost in thought. I let her strand join the others and immediately release it when I feel the frustration. Are they arguing right now? She glances at me and I fix my sight back on Devera, though I'm not paying attention. My suspicion is confirmed when Xaden says her name loud and clear. 

It's wrong of me, I know. I shouldn't be in their business, but I was just curious. It will not happen again, I can assure you. 

Ridoc and Liam are sitting in my room- handsome as ever, later that night while I get ready for the Reunification Day celebration hosted by the King. I didn't think before I agreed to attend, but Liam somehow convinced me. Xaden insisted that I didn't have to go, but I'd feel bad leaving Liam as the only marked one there.

I had tried to let Ridoc braid my hair but all I got instead was a big knot that hurt to brush out. Liam took over, saying he learned how to on his little sister, Sloane, who'd be coming into the quadrant next year. Like Xaden, Bodhi, and I, he was separated from her. 

The dress I'm wearing is floor-length, with a slit running up my right leg, that stops just below my hip bone. It hugs my body nicely and I actually take a moment to admire my curves in the mirror. 

"You look hot," Ridoc says, earning a glare from me, "If I don't score with the healers, my door will be open tonight."

"In your dreams," I scoff, earning a laugh from him and Liam.

"Don't be fooled, Liam. Did Ania ever tell you about the time she ki-"

"Ridoc!" I scold him using my lesser magic to swing the door open. "Out!"

"I'm gonna go get a head start on making way with the healers," Ridoc winked before he exited my room, leaving a snickering Liam and I.

"I don't see you much anymore," Liam said after a few minutes of silence, "Everything okay?"

I shrug my shoulders as I look at my reflection in the mirror, "It's fine." 

"If you want, we could meet up to train like we used to. Xaden kind of took over Violet duty so I have a little more time," He says with a small smile. 

"Yeah, that would be nice," I force a smile, but I feel the tendrils of his sadness merging into my own. "It's really kind of you to join Violet tonight."

He shrugs his shoulders this time, "It's better than being sad and alone in my room." 

"I think that's why I'm going too," I say as I stand up. 

"You look beautiful, Ania," Liam says as he pulls my sash over my head and adjusts it.

"Not too bad yourself, Liam," I smile and link my arm with his when he offers it. 

We exit my room and jog to catch up to the rest of our squad. 

"You two clean up nice," I tease as we approach Violet and Rhiannon. 

"Look at the two of you," Rhi teases, "If looks could kill."

"Violet," I give her a small smile. She looks stunning with her hair in an intricate arrangement and her dress fits her beautifully. I want to compliment her, but I don't know if it would fall flat.

"Hey, Ania." She nods in my direction and I awkwardly pull myself from Liam's arm with a sigh. 

As we approach the courtyard, the music grows louder and louder. It's easy to forget other quadrants exist outside of the riders, but seeing the cream, light blue, and navy swimming amongst each other reminds me quickly. I'm walking behind Ridoc, Violet, and Rhiannon when it feels like a weight is thrown into the center of my chest. It knocks the air from my lungs and I have to hold the wall to steady myself. I reach for Liam's arm and he turns quickly to support me. 

"I- I don't want to be here," I say just above my breath. I'm confused as to where this feeling came from. I had been excited to have a night with my squad, but now I want nothing more than to sit under a cold shower and catch my breath.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He asks and I shake my head rapidly. 

"Stay with Violet," I say, pulling away from him.

"I need you," I call out. 

"Meet me in the field," He replies. 

My hands shake as I walk away from the party and back toward the Riders Quadrant. 

As I'm passing through the courtyard, I can feel the fibrils from the book sprouting more and more out of control. It's too much. I took on too much for the day and I shouldn't have. Someone grabs my arm and I turn around pulling away quickly. 

"What's wrong?" It's Garrick. I feel a pang of guilt for the way I'm about to ignore him.

"I'm going somewhere," I say as I back away from him. Xaden's strand shines a little brighter and I glance toward the opening of the Parapet where Garrick seems to be standing guard. 

"Ania, wait," He calls out as I continue my path toward the field. He doesn't try to come after me and I'm thankful for it.

"I told you not to smother yourself with the misery of those around you," Gleigeal scolds and I finally cry out as I see him landing in the center of the field. 

He lays his body completely flat and rests his head on the ground as I fall to my knees next to him. 

"Ground yourself, Ania," He says with a gust of steam that blows my hair back.

I dig my nails into the grass, as a sob racks my chest. I let myself lean against his leg and close my eyes as I put myself in the Riorson House library. 

The fibrils growing out of the book are out of control, a rainbow that shakes and rattles, each color dancing with the other. I reach for it, trying to slam it shut. It takes every ounce of my mental strength to slam it closed as a scream rips through my throat. 

My chest hurts as I try to catch my breath. I let myself fully collapse against my dragon. My cheek is flush with the grass and Gleigeal nudges my back with his nose. 

"Breathe," He urges. 

I do as he says, taking a deep breath as I focus on how the soft grass feels between my fingers. My fingertips and palms glow against the blades of greenery and I close my eyes again.

"I understand you miss your family, especially today," He starts, "But if you risk your life again to take on the grief of your peers again, I will not be as kind about it."

My head bobs in understanding and I let my eyes close. 

"I wonder if Beckett were here, would he be yours instead," I say out loud. 

"Regardless of whether he was here or not, I knew that you were destined to be my rider long before you came into the quadrant," He says. 

"You would like Beckett," I say softly. "He wanted to do what was right. It's what got him killed." 

"To my understanding, I think I would have not minded his presence," He says and I laugh lightly. That's the closest I'll get to his agreement on this subject. 

Gleigeal sits with me for I don't know how long. He lets me talk his ear off, occasionally responding to me. I tell him about Aretia and my parents. I speak of Beckett more than anything. And of our childhood spent at Riorson House. Most of all, I'm grateful that he's here for me. 

A grumble resonates in his chest and he swivels his head towards the top of the flight field.

"Someone approaches," He says lowly. "The one who betrayed you." 

"He didn't betray me," I roll my eyes, not even bothering to stand up.

"Ani," He slows his jog and looks down at me, "Garrick told me he saw you come out here, but he didn't want to bother you-"

"Because he could probably tell I didn't want to be bothered," I cross my arms over my chest. 

"Let's go inside," He offers me his hand. 

I glance up at him with a scowl, "Are you sure you want to do that?" 

"Please," He says softly. 

"This will be the only time I agree with him. It is past my bedtime and sleep beckons me," Gleigeal says standing up. He barely gives me any time before he launches upward into the sky. 

"I'll remember this later," I mumble down our bond. 

Bodhi and I walk side by side, but I keep a distance between us. The memory of him pulling away from my touch sticks with me and I don't wish to relive it. I follow him mindlessly, focused on several different couples wandering around with each other, likely heading back to their rooms. A sigh leaves my lips and a part of me wishes I had stayed at the party. Maybe I would've found someone to bring back to my room or maybe I would've ended up in Ridoc's bed again.

"Can we talk? Please?" He asks as we stand in the courtyard. Either I say yes and go with him, or we part ways and I go back to my room. Xaden says that once he's gone, I'll be able to start helping Bodhi with the drops, which means a lot more time spent with him. Talking to him is probably the right thing to do if I want to avoid future awkwardness.

I do miss him. We were right on track to being okay again and then I went and fucked it all up. And ever since it happened, I can't stop thinking about how his lips felt against mine. 

"Sure," I finally say. 

He leads me back to his room and opens the door. He holds his hand out and I glance between his hand and face.

"Xaden warded my room. I have to pull you through." He says. 

I hesitate before I place my hand in his and allow him to pull me through. 

He gestures to his bed and I take a seat. I look around his room and it reminds me of Xaden's, just smaller. Maybe Bodhi will be a wingleader and get moved to a larger room. 

He stands against the door, biting the inside of his cheeks. He's thinking about what to say and I wonder if I should be the first to talk. I've put my shields up so that I don't accidentally read him, or let him think I've read him or whatever it was that went wrong the night of the start of War Games. 

"I'm sorry-"

"I just wanted to say-"

We both start and I bite back a laugh. 

"I'm sorry that I left you that night," He finishes. 

Shaking my head, I look down at my hands as I cross one leg over the other, "I should be the one apologizing."

"No," He says, "I left you. That is ridiculously unacceptable on my part. Regardless of how I felt, I thought I was helping by leaving." 

Finding the right words is hard. I want to explain to him that I would never intentionally put my emotions onto him. I would never intentionally read him without his permission. There is so much to say but the words just won't come out. 

"Please say something, Ani," his words are so quiet, if I were any further away I wouldn't have heard them. 

"I understand why you left," I tell him, "I didn't mean to do what I did. Or whatever you think I did." 

"What are you talking about?" He asks, stepping forward. 

I rise to my feet, "I didn't push my emotions onto you. I wouldn't do that, Bodhi. But I understand that you left because-"

"No, no. Ani, what you felt were my emotions. That's why I left." He holds my gaze and I shake my head. "I didn't want you acting on what I wanted."

"Bodhi, you're not listening," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, "That's not what happened."

"If you want me to beg for forgiveness, I will." He's on his knees in front of me within a second and my heart nearly stops. "But please don't shut me out again."

"Bodhi," It comes out as a whisper, "You don't understand." 

"If you want me to grovel, I will. I will ask for it every day until I graduate." His voice matches mine, his hands ghosting over my thighs like he's stopping himself from touching me. 

"What happened that night was both of us. Feeding off of each other," I say to him quietly, "I didn't push onto you, nor did you push onto me,"

I trail my finger against his jawline and then brush the curls off his forehead. The way his eyes scan my face nearly sends me into a spiral. 

"Ani-" I shake my head and brush my thumb against his bottom lip. His lips part and he breathes out and I'm at a loss for words at the sight before me.

Bodhi Durran is on his knees in front of me. 

"My shields are up. I'm not using my signet." I cup his jaw in my hand and lean down letting our noses touch. "Yet, I still want you all the same." 

He swallows and allows himself to finally touch my thighs. His fingers trail up the slit in my dress and he tilts his head up to brush his lips against mine, but I pull away slightly. 

"This fucking dress," He groans and he lets his lips brush against my upper thigh, right where the slit ends and my breath hitches. 

"Look at me," I choke back a whine when he presses a trail of kisses from my knee back to my upper thigh. 

"Ani this dress," He whispers against my skin and I have to pull his chin to look up at me. "I will never get over this dress."

"Then take it off." 

previous | next

tag list: @lynnieluvsu @sherlockstrangewolf @abysshaven @wolfbc97 @paris009 @poseidont @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

[notmorbid]

the story hour.

dialogue prompts from the story hour: a novel by thrity umrigar.

i'm tired of being so far from family.

i don't trust myself to be alone with you.

do you really hate ____ so much?

i'm gonna tell you something, okay? something i should have told you long ago. but i couldn't.

if it's nothing, why are you shaking like a leaf?

is this what burnout feels like?

you're as trapped as i am.

jokes are funny. this is not funny.

you're not wicked. you're just in pain.

you want my story?

my mother always said where there's a will, there's a way.

i don't do well with routine, i guess.

i'm very happy to have reconnected with you.

how would you like to spend the few hours we have left?

maybe everyone is entitled to one harmless fling.

just because you're _____ doesn't mean everyone else is.

love is not coming for me.

i'm scared to go home.

never refuse a gift of food. it's all the poor have.

it's far easier to blame the world than to look at your own self.

nobody wants to take responsibility for their own behavior anymore.

everyone's looking for a scapegoat.

are you making a pass at me?

it's so peaceful to sit here.

when i look at you, do you know what i see?

god listens until he's fed up with you. then he teaches you a lesson.

business is good, i hope?

this is really blurring the lines, you know.

you are my friend. i'm sorry i denied it.

i'm sorry. i just reacted.

is it me, or is it hot in here?

what do you need me to do?

you can't give up now. look how far you've already come.

are you trying to pick a fight with me?

that's it? no explanation?

would you join me for a cup of tea?

you're safe now. nobody will hurt you again.

why are you doing this? what are you getting out of it?

everybody has a hungry heart.

i've loved every moment i've spent with you.

i have to tell you a secret. something bad.

whatever it is, you'll feel better after you tell me.

why are you not saying anything?

i'm tin. you are gold.

you have more money than sense.

i'm old enough to be your ____.

why didn't you just leave?

you cannot run from your kismet.

why now, after all this time?

grace is neither cheap nor free. it has to be earned.

we can't be responsible for other people's reactions to us.

you're sick. i'll make you soup.

i need to see you before i leave.

damn, you're cold.

that's all it takes: a moment's forgetfulness.

if you're not happy, what chance is there for me?

you're so many things to me, but never ordinary.

we are earthbound creatures, no matter how tempting the sky.

can i sit with you for a few minutes?

you've never looked more beautiful?

family has to take you back. that's the whole point of family.

after all these years? just like that?

if i ask you something, will you answer honestly?

you look as far away as the moon.

what do you want from me?

[nereidprinc3ss]

kiss it better

in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you

18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D

“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”

Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 

“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”

You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 

“This is pretty good.”

“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…

He’s just so alarmed?

“Honey, your knee.”

“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”

The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 

“What did you do?”

You snort. 

“What did you do, Spencer?”

It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 

“What do you mean? I did something?”

“Babe.”

The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 

“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”

Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 

“Oh.”

God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 

“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”

His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 

“No. My iron levels are optimal.”

Naturally. 

“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”

Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”

“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”

“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”

At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 

“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”

You laugh. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”

“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”

“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”

He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 

“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”

“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 

“Never.”

You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 

“You could kiss them better.”

Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 

“I might just do that.”

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[lymtw]

Aftercare

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[mywritersmind]

MARKS ON YOUR BODY - LN4||OP81

summary : In which it starts with strip poker and ends with questions about a specific hidden tattoo and some secret piercings. Or, Lando and Oscar are both hot for you and let you know it.

listen up : zakbrowndaughter!reader 18+ not fully smut but pretty suggestive (at least for me who doesn’t write smut lol) i’m blushing. STRIP POKER PHOTO INSPIRED!! tramp stamp and tits pierced??🙂‍↕️

words : 1425

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Alright Lan, You wanna stop?” Oscar eyes Lando who’s in pants only. The only way Lando would lose strip poker is if he distracted me too much with his body.

He laughs, “Fuck no!”

“Fuck yes.” I throw down my cards and yawn, “I’m bored of winning.” Oscar had so many pieces of outerwear that he’s lost multiple times but still is wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Strip poker is my game apparently, maybe the possibility of the guys being naked fueled my fire.

“I swear you’re cheating.” Lando shakes his head.

Oscar’s laughing as I scoff, “I do not cheat! Just accept defeat, Norris.”

He leans against the table, “I’m not losing to you, Brown.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Lando.” Oscar fiddles with a card in his hand as I lean my head back. Apparently, my hair moves with me and Oscar’s brow shoots up, “You have a tattoo?”

I blink, “Uh yeah.”

“What!?” Lando practically screams, “Let’s see.”

I move back my hair to reveal the tattoo that’s behind my ear, it’s a tiny 8 for the number I grew up racing with. “That’s hot.” Lando nods as Oscar hits his arm, “I want to get a tattoo.”

“No you do not!” Oscar argues as Lando sends him a dirty look.

He turns back to me, his arms crossed against the table so his biceps pull my attention, “Did it hurt?”

I shrug, “Yeah, but some of my others hurt more.”

Lando’s jaw drops, “You have more? How did we not know this?”

I laugh again, “I hide them from my dad.”

“Really?” Oscar asks, seemingly surprised at my sneaky nature.

The corner of my mouth pulls upwards, “You wanna see the rest?”

His eyes are deep as he nods and taps the card against the table. “I’m assuming they’re easy to hide.”

I sigh and hook my finger to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it upwards. He's right, of course. All of my tattoos aren’t easily seen by my father.

I pull my shirt until I reach my sternum. Lando’s smile dulls as his eyes zero in on my skin, clearly not wanting to miss anything. I have a star design that goes in a line with little details around it.

Oscar leans his head back against the headrest, biting his lip and checking me out. I don’t think he’s ever looked hotter.

Lando’s hair is a mess but in the sort of attractive way that makes you want to pull it. The two of them are my greatest desire with bright orange caution tape put up by my father.

Zak Brown hates when I'm with the two of them, no matter which, he doesn’t trust me. But coming back from the FIA awards, they offered me a ride since we were all going back to england, so it was only polite to accept.

I drop my shirt and I swear I see Lando’s mouth fall into a frown. “Damn… didn’t know you went against daddy’s orders.”

I smirk, “He hates tattoos…Thinks they’re trashy. Which is ironic because...” I stop myself before I can go on, trailing off and grabbing my water to play it off.

“Because what?” Oscar asks.

“Um…” I don’t really know what to say and I feel quite overwhelmed with these two men staring at me.

“You have one more. Don’t you?” Oscar’s trying to hide his smirk but is shit at it. Lando looks to his teammate, then me.

“Now we have to see.” The curly haired man stretches his arm on the table, his muscles rippling and making me bite my lip.

“Okay.” I situate myself so I'm sitting on my feet. I pause, looking at both of them for a second. The whole thing is so oddly erotic and ridiculously hot.

I turn around in my seat, pulling down the back of my sweats ever so slightly so my tramp stamp is in view. I look over my shoulder to see their reactions because neither of them say a thing.

Oscar is staring, face blank and directed at my lower back. Lando’s mouth is open just the slightest bit, his arm draped over the back of Oscar’s seat. It’s not huge, just thin lines that make up a butterfly and some swirls to compliment it.

“Fuck.” Lando whispers, Oscar looks at him but doesn’t tell him to stop, just mumbles along with his friend. “Yeah.”

“You like it?” I know they do. I’m not blind.

The two are staring at me like i’m fucking edible and the way they look right now, I might be. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Oscar says as I turn back around, my shirt still pulled up and my hair to one side.

“I think this is the first time Lando’s been speechless.” I joke as his eyes meet mine again and his cheeks go pink. “Am I making you nervous, Norris?”

I expect him to roll his eyes or scoff, but he just breathes out and says, “You’re really hot, Y/n.”

“Can’t argue with him there.” Oscar wipes a hand over his mouth before tapping the table, “I wanna see it closer.”

I realize that he means he wants me to sit on the table. “Not even a please?” I tease but I'm already turning and setting myself down on it.

I’m about to adjust my pants but Lando’s hand does it for me. His skin is cold and holds my hip as his fingers dip below my waistband.

“Why a butterfly?” Oscar asks, leaning against the table to get a better look. I lean back and rest against my arms as they look.

“Thought it was cute.”

Oscar laughs a bit, “How often do you mark your body because it’s cute?”

Lando slides out of his seat, moving into mine so I'm facing him. He doesn’t even ask, just slides a hand onto my hip and another on my shirt, pulling it up to see my sternum.

Oscar switches with Lando so he’s now holding the back of my sweats. I let my eyes train down Lando’s chest… his abs… his arms. He’s fit as fuck and the way he was acting during strip poker, he knows it.

I go back to Oscar's question, realizing I got distracted by Lando in front of me. “Very often actually, piercings too.”

This prompts Lando to push my hair behind my ear, admiring my jewelry, “How many do you have?” He sounds almost out of breath.

“Twelve.” His fingers drift over my earrings, counting.

“You only have five on each, though.” As soon as Lando says it, I hear Oscar shift in his seat.

I don’t even wait for Lando to catch on, I just grab his wrist and have my shirt go up with his hand. Lando lets out a noise, close to a whimper.

He stares at my bare chest, the only thing on me is my jewelry decorating each nipple.

I hear Oscar stand, his hand gripping my hip tighten as he gets closer. He’s looking over my shoulder, I lean back a bit so he has a better view of my tits.

Lando’s hand is resting on my neck, pushing my shirt against my skin, I can feel his pulse beat faster under my fingertips.

Lando’s gaze shifts to Oscar as the brown eyed man stares back at him. I feel like they’re having some telepathic conversation that I can’t understand, until Oscar looks back at me.

His eyes are darker, the air filled with tension. As my eyes flick to Lando, I see his chest rise and fall. I get it now.

My hand slips to Oscar’s face, his jaw and cheek warm against my touch. I hesitate purely to see how his breath hitches, then I kiss him.

Lando swears as Oscar’s tongue dips into my mouth, he freezes between my legs. I break the kiss with Lando, hooking my leg around his waist to pull him in closer.

“Are you still nervous?” I whisper as Oscar moves his lips to my neck. Lando looks like he’s dreaming, his head turning side to side slowly as I smirk.

He kisses me, softer than Oscar at first but he becomes sloppier when I start being affected by Oscar attached to my neck.

The aussie mumbles against my skin, “This your end goal all along? Strip poker… tattoo tour… fuck?”

I lean my head back and laugh, “No. I guess I'm just lucky.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Coffee Crossfire

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You own a cafe in Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes' territory. You occasionally let him hold meetings in the cafe after hours and things usually go well....but not this time.

Bucky looks around the disastrous mess around him. He's so fucked as he takes note of the shattered windows, bullet holes in the furniture and walls, broken tables and chairs.

You're not going to be happy with him at all.

Bucky looks at Sam and Steve, who've just finished getting rid of the bodies.

"She's gonna be pissed," Sam says looking at the mess.

"I know!" Bucky exclaims and runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck. Okay," he points at his two best friends, "Call up a clean up crew and construction crew. We need to get started on fixing this place up ASAP."

"Got it, boss," Sam says with a nod, pulling out his phone.

Steve approaches Bucky and claps him on the shoulder, "Start planning your funeral, Buck."

"Shut the fuck up, Steve." Bucky pulls out his phone and starts searching for places that are open late. He needs to find you some flowers.

_____________________

You're up late working on paperwork when you hear a knock at your door. You get up from your desk and peer into the peephole. You see Bucky holding a bouquet of flowers and you're immediately suspicious.

When you open the door, you see the flowers and the look on Bucky's face. You cross your arms over your chest and ask, “What did you do?”

He shrugs and responds, “Why do you assume I did something?”

“Because you got me flowers and you have a look on your face that says ‘I did something bad and you’re gonna be mad at me for it.’”

He gulps and confesses, “…the cafe got shot up.”

“WHAT?!” You look at him with wide eyes. You immediately grab your keys, slip on your shoes, and ready to head out, but Bucky stops you.

“I already have my guys cleaning it up and repairs will start tomorrow!"

You groan and grab the bouquet of flowers, whacking Bucky with them, “Unbelievable, Barnes! I can't believe you!”

“Sugar, I swear, I didn’t anticipate for the meeting to go that way!”

You grunt again, turning around and heading back into your apartment. Bucky follows you in and watches as you toss the flowers onto your kitchen counter, the petals falling off.

"Listen, I promise you, that the meeting was going well and then we were ambushed. They did a drive by. Romanoff and Maximoff were able to track them. Sam, Steve, and I handled the guys in the cafe."

"None of your people got hurt?"

Bucky shakes his head, "Thankfully, no."

"Good, I might kill you myself then," you look at him with a stern glare.

He holds his hands up, "Understandable. But I already have the guys working on cleaning the mess and fixing it up. Might take a few weeks depending on the damage."

"Take me there."

"Sugar-"

"Take. Me. There. Now."

Bucky gulps, "Alright." Bucky leads you out of your apartment and to his car. The ride to your cafe is filled with silence. Bucky knows how much he fucked up.

____________________

Your heart drops when you see the shattered windows and busted door. Sam, Steve, and several of Bucky's men are sweeping up the glass, surveying the mess.

Bucky can't stand the sad look on your face, "Sugar, I-"

"Don't."

You take a look around, any man in your way immediately moves to the side. Your life's work was ruined and all because you decided to set shop in Bucky's territory.

You hold back tears and look at Bucky, "You're going to handle it?"

"All of it. You just let me know what you want and need and I'll pay for it."

"Okay...and, maybe don't have anymore meetings here from now on."

"I understand. No matter what, your cafe will still be under my protection."

"Okay. Can you take me home now?"

"Of course."

The ride back was in silence once more. It drove Bucky crazy because he loved hearing you talk and joke with him. Knowing that he was the reason for your silence absolutely breaks his heart. After dropping you off, he definitely needs to pay the guys who did this a visit.

______________________

You go to the cafe the next morning and see a group of people already working on fixing the windows and doors.

You're also surprised to see Bucky there, very dressed down in a tshirt and jeans.

"Bucky?"

"Oh, hey," he hands you a paper, "Here's a list of things that need repairs or replacements. Just send me the links to any furniture and decor you want."

You take notice of his wrapped knuckles. You immediately grab his hands and look at him, "These weren't like this when I saw you last night."

"Had to give some people a talking to."

"YOU RUINED MY GIRL'S CAFE! NOW TELL ME WHO YOU WORK FOR!"

"Hm. Did they suffer?" you look at him with curiosity.

He smirks at you, "Of course. Romanoff and Maximoff are good at what they do."

"Remind me to buy them dinner later."

He looks at you with a pout, "I helped too!"

"Hardly, I'm sure."

"Well how about I get a kiss since I'm paying for everything?"

"The damage is your fault. I'm not rewarding you for solving the problems you caused, Barnes."

He groans, "You break my heart, sugar."

You shrug, "You'll live," you pocket the list and head to the counter to overlook all of your equipment.

Bucky stays back and watches you for a little bit. He can't deny how much he cares for you, which is why he's working so hard to fix the problems he caused.

He just hopes you'll eventually see how much you mean to him and take his feelings for you seriously.

PART 2 HERE

[chancloud8]

Teach Me

PART 1

series masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Tags: A little bit of angst, Fluff, Kissing, OT8

Summary: After a failed date you find comfort with your best friend. He even offers to teach you how to kiss. Crazy, right?

*****************************

'Channie?' you call out when you step into the recording studio.

It was already close to midnight, but you know for a fact that your best friend is still here. He always stays late to work on his songs, either alone or sometimes with Jisung or Changbin.

'In here!' Chan's familiar voice calls back and relief floods your body at the sound of it.

You wipe your cheeks one last time with the back of your hands and take a deep breath before forcing yourself to smile.

'Bestie incoming,' you sing song as you walk the narrow hallway towards the room where his voice came from.

As soon as you walk through the door you freeze.

It wasn't just Chan inside. All the other members of his band are scattered across the couch and floor. Multiple take-out boxes and containers cover the small table and the smell of pizza and chinese food hits your nose.

Eight pairs of eyes are staring at you and it takes a few seconds before any of them react. Chan is the first one to jump up, his brows are furrowed as he takes in the state you're in.

You know you must look like a mess. Your hair is loose and wild from how you've kept running your hand through it, you know your make-up is smeared and your eyes are red from crying. You keep the smile on your face, hoping to fool your friends, but the moment he takes a step forward you know you haven't.

'You cried. What happened?' Chan asks when he's in front of you, softly grabbing your chin between his fingers so you have to look at him.

'Who do we need to hurt?' Changbin yells as he also jumps up from the couch to get closer to you as well.

You flinch at his loud voice and Chan turns his head to glare at his friend.

'No one, Binnie. I'm fine,' you say, but you know your smile is faltering.

'You're not,' Felix's deep voice says from behind Chan. You hadn't even noticed him getting up too. 'Who did this?'

You shake your head at him. 'It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

Telling Chan what happened was one thing, but telling all of them?

Nope.

You couldn't do it. It would be too mortifying.

'Come sit with us,' Chan says, letting go of your chin so he can grab your hand and lead you towards the couch where Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung quickly make room for you.

As soon as you sit down, Seungmin shrugs off his jacket and hangs it around your naked shoulders. You shiver as the fabric touches your skin, it's warm and soft and you hadn't realized how cold you were.

'Where's your jacket?' Chan asks, as if he only just noticed you weren't wearing any while it's no longer hot outside at night.

The guys are all quiet, waiting for you to answer the question.

'I- uhm,' you swallow. 'I forgot it.'

'You forgot your jacket?' Chan narrows his eyes, seeing straight through your bullshit. 'You never go anywhere without--'

'I forgot! I was in a hurry to get away, okay,' you interrupt him, tears welling up in your eyes again as you think of the horrifying moment.

As one all of the guys lean forward, frowns adorn their faces.

'Get away from who?' Chan and Changbin growl practically at the same time.

'Y/N,' Felix gets up from his seat 'Are you hurt?'

'No, no,' you hurry to say. 'I'm okay, I promise. I'm just--' You groan and bury your face in your hands so you don't have to look at their faces. 'I'm extremely embarrassed and maybe a bit upset, but I'm fine.'

When they stay silent, you sigh and lift your head to look them all in the eye.

'I'm fine.'

They don't seem convinced and you can't really blame them.

'Look, I didn't expect you all to be here or I wouldn't have come. I'll just go home, bury myself in blankets and sleep,' you say, starting to get up.

Seungmin grabs your arm and pulls you back on the couch.

'No way we're letting you go when you're feeling down. You shouldn't be alone,' he says and the other guys all nod in agreement.

'And if you want to talk to Channie alone, we can leave you alone for a bit,' Jeongin offers, giving you an encouraging smile.

Your heart swells with how thoughtful they all are and you instantly feel a little better. You always knew they were good guys, but after tonight it was nice to get a reminder that thoughtful and kind guys still exist.

'But if you want you can talk to us too, we won't judge you, I promise,' Lee Know says from his spot on the floor.

'Or if you just want to eat or help us out with making music, that's fine too,' Hyunjin adds with a smile.

'We can also still beat up whoever made you cry,' Jisung swings his fist around in the air.

You can't help but tear up again.

'Y/N?' Chan moves over to you again and kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. 'You're not alone, you're okay and we're all here for you.'

That does it.

A sob escapes your mouth and you throw your arms around his neck, not caring about the guys seeing you cry anymore.

Chan immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his body. Like a koala you wrap yourself around him and you bury your face in his neck, letting his familiar scent calm you down.

'It's okay, you're okay,' Chan continues to whisper as he strokes your back. 'I'm here.'

It takes a few minutes for you to calm down, but when you do, you feel a lot better. You allow yourself a few more moments, keeping your head in the crook of Chan's neck as you slowly get a grip of yourself again.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper.

'What for?' Chan whispers back.

You know that everyone can probably still hear you, but it still feels like it's just Chan and you. In some way the guys are a part of Chan anyways.

'For crying and for ruining your night.'

Chan's hands move up to your arms and he gently pushes you away from his chest so he can look at you.

'You could never ruin my night, Y/N, and as for the crying, isn't that what a best friend is for?'

Your lips curl up in a watery smile and you bring your hand up to pat his cheek.

'My sweet Channie.'

He chuckles and squeezes your arms. 'That's me. Now will you please tell your sweet Channie what happened tonight?'

Your smile disappears and immediately so does Chan's.

'What happened?' he repeats, his eyes dark.

'I just went on a shitty date,' you finally confess. 'He was very nice at first, but-'

'I swear if he hurt you,' Chan growls and from the corner of your eyes you see two other members get up as well.

'Stop being so macho,' you roll your eyes. 'I appreciate your concern babe, but I'm okay and he didn't hurt me.'

Chan narrows his eyes at you and cocks his head. 'Then what did he do, Y/N?'

'Did he force you to do anything you didn't want?' Changbin asks, sitting down next to you and Chan.

You wait a second too long with denying it and both men tense up.

'No, no! It's not like that,' you hurry to say. 'He just-' You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. 'He laughed at me.'

Chan blinks at you and so does Changbin.

'What for?' Lee Know pipes up from behind you.

'Did he just laugh or did he say stuff as well?' Hyunjin asks from the couch.

You sigh and bite your lip, debating whether or not to just blurt it out. It all seemed so silly now.

'Y/N?' Chan asks again.

'He kissed me and I didn't expect it,' you say, closing your eyes in mortification. 'I froze at first and when he-' you shiver and Chan balls his hands up in fists.

'He what?' Felix asks softly.

'God this is so embarrassing you guys, you're going to laugh at me too,' you groan, letting your head fall against Chan's chest again.

'We won't,' Jeongin promises and the others hum in agreement.

'I freaked out,' you mumble. 'And when he put his tongue in my mouth, I may have gagged and started hyperventilating.'

The guys are quiet around you and for a moment you wonder if they heard you. Just as you lift your head from Chan's chest, they all start to talk at once. They don't laugh. All their faces are serious as they try to talk over each other. All except Chan.

'What?' you whisper at him when his eyes stay locked with yours.

‘I had no idea you’ve never been kissed before,’ he says, his eyes falling to your lips for a millisecond. ‘And I’m sorry your first experience with it was awful.’

You shrug and snort when a thought enters your mind. ‘If only you could teach me how to properly kiss so I don’t freak out next time,’ you joke.

Everyone falls quiet and Chan’s eyes darken before he looks down at your lips again. His tongue comes out to moisten his lips and your heart skips a bit at the sight. Shit, he had no right to look at you like that.

‘I’m only joking,’ you choke out, breaking the silence and shifting awkwardly in Chan’s lap.

Chan’s hands fall down to your hips and he holds you still.

‘I could, you know,’ he says then. ‘Teach you.’

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at him with big eyes, both in shock and intrigued. Was he really serious? Would he teach you? Wouldn’t that be weird? Wouldn’t that ruin your friendship?

‘Or any of us could,’ Changbin pipes up, breaking your thoughts. ‘Or if you need some practise after Chan teaches you-’

‘Shut up, Bin,’ Chan interrupts his friend, his hands tightening around your hips.

‘Hey, don’t get all alpha on Y/N now Channie,’ Jisung teases.

You laugh and look around at the guys, no longer feeling awkward. They really are the nicest people you know.

‘Thank you,’ you smile at them. ‘I feel much better already.’

A chorus of cheers makes you laugh and for a moment you forget the offer that still hangs in the air. That is, until Chan suddenly stands up and hauls you with him as you were still in his lap.

‘Come with me,’ he says when you stand on your own legs again.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the hallway as another chorus of cheers and whistles erupts in the room. When the door to the recording studio falls close and the sound of the guys falls away, you find yourself alone with Chan. Your heart is beating so wild in your chest that you wonder if Chan can hear it.

Is he going to kiss you? Does he really want to? What if you freak out again?

As always Chan seems to be able to read your mind and when he cups your face with his hands and locks his gaze with yours, everything else falls away. He leans his forehead against yours and his warm breath puffs against your lips.

‘Breathe,’ Chan whispers. ‘Just breathe for a moment.’

You do as he says and close your eyes as you focus on his breathing, trying to match it with yours while you try to ignore how close his lips are to yours. It doesn’t take long before you’re breathing in the same rhythm and when you open your eyes you find Chan already looking at you.

‘Now what?’ you ask, biting your lip. ‘Will you really teach me?’

Chan’s lips move up in a sweet smile and he moves his hands so that one of them is cupping the back of your neck, while the other grabs onto your chin.

‘Do you want me to?’

You should feel nervous, like you were on your date earlier, but you’re not. You feel calm. Safe. Excited.

‘Yes,’ you whisper, gripping the front of his shirt between your fingers. ‘Please.’

‘Stay still and relax, okay?’ Chan nods and then he cups your face again with his big hands. The cool metal of his rings feel nice against your hot cheeks.

Chan slowly moves his face even closer to yours and when your noses touch he stills, once again letting his breath tickle your mouth. You tremble in anticipation and tighten your fingers on the fabric of his shirt.

‘Channie,’ you breathe out, nearly panting already when he hasn’t even done anything.

Chan chuckles and closes the distance, pressing his lips against yours softly. His thumb gently caresses the skin of your cheek and you melt against him as he slowly moves his mouth over yours. You copy his movement and when he hums against your mouth in approval you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Who knew kissing could feel so good?

After what feels like only a few seconds, Chan pulls back and you shamelessly chase his mouth with yours. A hoarse chuckle escapes Chan’s throat, but he lets you kiss him again. And again.

There’s no tongue, but at the moment you don’t feel like you neither need or want that. Not yet.

No. This is enough for now.

Chan’s lips were plump and soft and you felt like you were surrounded by his comfortable smell and touch. It felt amazing, addicting and oh so wonderful.

When you finally pulled back again to look at Chan, his pupils were dilated and his lips were red and a little swollen. He looked beautiful and you fight the urge to kiss him again.

‘Lesson one complete?’ you grin up at him.

Chan flicks your nose with his finger and grins back at you.

‘Lesson two will include tongue, think you can handle it?’

You shiver at the thought. If kissing Chan feels this good without tongue already, how would it be to really kiss him?

‘I think I can handle anything when it’s with you.'

************************************

a/n: eeeekkkk my first y/n fic. I hope you like it <3

<read part two here>

[leneemusing]

MISC SENTENCE STARTERS WITH A DASH OF ANGST

❝ i can't even say he deceived me. i knew exactly what he was and i jumped in anyway. ❞

❝ i think eventually i got so used to the chaos and the pain and the toxicity i began to look for it. ❞

❝ i never got a chance to discover myself. i never had that privilege. ❞

❝ you can tell me anything. i mean i can't promise i'm good at keeping secrets, but i'm a hell of a listener. ❞

❝ no one wants to yearn anymore. ❞

❝ i'm doing some of my best work here and you don't even have the decency to roll your eyes at me. honestly it's hurtful. ❞

❝ i know what you're thinking. ❞

❝ if i ask for your help are you gonna make a big deal out of it? ❞

❝ can we just be normal for like two seconds for once. ❞

❝ i would say i don't know what's wrong with you but i actually do and that's the problem. ❞

❝ against my better judgement i trust you and i think that says a lot about the state of the world right now. ❞

❝ i don't actually care but i'm bored so i'm here. ❞

❝ last time i listened to you we almost died. ❞

❝ i would've come sooner. i would've been here if you'd only asked. ❞

❝ i don't want to hurt anymore. ❞

❝ you don't have to hurt anymore. you can let go of those burdens. ❞

❝ it'd be a lot easier if i actually cared as little as i pretend to. ❞

❝ i do need you. i wouldn't be here if i didn't. ❞

❝ sometimes you don't know it's wrong until it's too late. sometimes you don't know you're being hurt until you realize you're in pieces. ❞

❝ pretending you don't need people doesn't make you strong it just makes you a jackass. ❞

❝ you're gonna be okay. eventually. but first you gotta not be okay for a while. it's gotta suck so you can actually recognize when you're alright again. ❞

❝ you shouldn't have said that. ❞

❝ sometimes i wish they had done something worse. then it'd justify how hard it's been to get over it. ❞

❝ i wish you actually understood me. ❞

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒎𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆ (PT. 2)

OKOKOK I MADE THE PART TWO PLS STOP YELLING AT MEEEE

NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

Characters/fandoms: Captain Curly, Mouthwashing Content warnings: Smut, obvi, p in v whatt, curly being a SLOPPYYYYY eater, praise (from you and him), boobs, tits even, curly being 𝓯𝓻��𝓪𝓴𝔂, alot of dirty talking, etc. Our boy curlys a bit of perv.

-Manners? What manners?

Curly is a, what do you kids call it... a munch? Yes. If he goes down on you, and he most likely will, he will be SLOPPY with it. I'm talking drooling all over your cunt, licking it from top to bottom, shaking his head side to side and pressing wet kisses to your clit. It's ironic, really, since he's so polite in and out of bed, but he doesn't really care about a mess if it means pleasuring you. What's a little mess? Sheets can be washed.

"Sorry *kiss* about the mess, sweetheart.. *kiss* can't *kiss* help myself."

-Beautiful tits. And rack. Love it.

When asked the question 'ass, tits or thighs,' he's gonna pick tits. He's a titty guy. Sure, your ass and thighs are nice too, and he gives them an equal amount of love, but nothing can beat the feeling of shoving his face into your boobs when he's thrusting in and out of you. It has something to do with hearing your heartbeat and how fast it is, but mostly he just likes suffocating between your twins. And if he's particularly stressed, he'll just set you on his desk and lift your shirt up and go to town. Sucking, squeezing, rubbing, all that. His favorite stress balls. And god forbid the day you get nipple piercings... He's mindlessly playing with the metal with his teeth, enjoying the feeling of the cold brass on his tongue. You'll have to wear bandaids. (which he'll apply, apologizing profusely.)

-Praise me for sin.

Call this man a good boy and he's whining and shaking. It goes both ways with him. He loves getting praised, and he loves praising. A few of his favorites.. "You're doing such a good job." "Look at you, taking everything like a champ." "God, you're gorgeous." "Good girl." "You're so pretty, baby.." "Atta-fuckin-girl." He knows you fold every time for that kind of talk, so he makes sure to say at least one while you're getting naughty. On the other hand, some of his favorites to hear.. "That's a good boy." "Thank you." (Manners.) "I love you so much." "You're too good." "Fuck, that's good." Hearing how good of a job he's doing is only fuel for him to keep going, and gets him hard as a rock. So, use that mouth. (Unless its occupied, wink wink.)

-He babbles when he comes.

When he's right on that edge, he goes a bit dumb. You feel so warm and good, and he's so fucking close, and his brain just loses all ability to form coherent thoughts. So he just mumbles whatever comes out of his mouth in that adorable whiny subby voice. (You know the one.) "Fuuuuck too good too good too good.. baby.. g'na make me come, coming, coming." Or just a chorus of 'yes' over and over. Its really cute because he tries to be quiet with it, but his brain is so broken that he can't control his volume too well. He has to shove his face into your shoulder or a pillow to muffle himself so the crew doesn't overhear.

-Can't stop, won't stop.

Will not give up until you come, no matter how sore his cock is or how cramped his legs are. He wants you to come as many times as possible before the night is over, and he's willing to overwork himself to achieve that. You've told him its okay, but he doesn't really care. Feeling you clench around him and ride out your orgasm is the best thing he's ever felt, so he's gonna have you coming at least 3 times each session. Unless, of course, you're begging him to stop since its too much. He'd never want to hurt you. He'd pull out and lay with you for a while and let your body calm down before starting up again. "Take it easy, angel. I'm right here. It's okay, you're doing so well." (Why does his dirty talk sound like him coaching you through birth?? 😭)

[daintcas]

breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !

your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.

'Where are you'

'Answer me.'

'I'm coming to your house'

'We're going to talk about this'

swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.

he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.

everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.

the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.

his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.

"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.

"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.

he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."

"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.

"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.

"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.

as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.

"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.

it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."

the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with vocal unit

[ ☕️ ] how they would spoil their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would plan to make them feel special

jeonghan

place: a park

what they would do to make you feel special: jeonghan wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his scarf around your neck at the slightest breeze (which means so much, since he gets cold so easily) 

what they would be like taking you out: so polite and charming, with a glint of mischievousness that shines through his humour and jokes. he’s a great listener, but at the same time can hold a conversation like no other, so you never feel awkward. and even if there’s silence, it’s not that uncomfortable and suffocating silence, but a peaceful one.

“jeonghan? what are you doing?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion, as you watched your date unwrap his thick scarf. 

“told you to dress warmly,” jeonghan ignored your words and muttered with a hint of disappointment, shaking his head. he kind of reminded you of your mom when she was angry at you. 

“what…,” you stood still, as jeonghan wrapped the scarf around your neck, making sure to tie it tight enough to keep you protected from the wind. “but what about you?” 

“yah, don’t worry about me, okay?” he smiled, the usual mischievous spark gleaming in his brown eyes, and pulled you closer, so you were glued to his side.

joshua

place: pottery class

what they would do to make you feel special: whatever he’d make out of the clay would be made with you in mind, to match your aesthetic and vibe, so that he could gift it to you afterwards 

what they would be like taking you out: suuuch a gentleman; picks you up, opens all the doors, helps you with your coat or jacket, wipes off the clay that you accidentally smeared on your cheek. seems very calm and collected but is freaking out on the inside.

“wait, wait,��� joshua said, his body shaking from laughter, eyes scrunched adorably, as you once again messed up what was supposed to be a mug. maybe pottery wasn’t for you after all… 

you looked up from the disaster in front of you and raised your brows. 

“c'mere,” he waved at you, the smile not disappearing from his face. 

“why?” you asked, suspicious. “i’m not falling for one of your pranks again, joshua hong.” 

“darling,” he whined, making your heart skip. “have a bit more faith in me,” you noticed a clean cloth in his hand. “you got some clay on your cheek. wanted to wipe it off.” 

oh. oh. 

woozi

place: jazz club

what they would do to make you feel special: the morning after the date you’d get a message with a link to a playlist with the songs from the bar and a (probably a bit corny) title that would make your heart swoon. 

what they would be like taking you out: at first woozi would be kind of awkward and shy, just because he’d be intimidated by you and the fact that you agreed to go out with him??? and you didn’t think a jazz club was lame??? mans would be sweating and panicking, but with time the stress would disappear because of how at peace being with you made him.

“do you maybe want to…,” jihoon shyly looked up from his glass that he was holding onto for dear life. “uh, i was wondering if… you want to dance?” panic like he'd never known before welled in his throat, as jihoon finally managed to ask you the question he’d been dying to ask you for the past hour. 

“say yes, say yes, say yes.”

you honestly wanted to laugh, because if only he knew how much you wanted him to ask you that. 

“of course, jihoon, i’d love to,” you smiled gently at him, noticing how the tension disappeared from his shoulders. 

oh, he’d be the death of you. 

dk

place: the zoo

what they would do to make you feel special: carry your bag without you having to ask, not a single peep. he’d grab it after like five minutes and seeing your confused face or your quiet “i can carry it myself”, seokmin would shake his head and say, “i don’t want your shoulder to hurt”. 

what they would be like taking you out: shaky hands, shaky voice, wobbly feet; because no amount of pep talk would be able to calm seokmin down. he’d be so happy to go out with you, but the stress would be eating him alive - it’s just that he wouldn’t want for anything to go wrong since it’d be your first date :((

“where to next?” you pulled out the map of the zoo, crossing out the small picture of an otter.

“what about the lions? or tigers?” a shadow fell over the map and you could feel seokmin’s cologne, as well as his chest gently pressing against your back. 

“you sure you won’t get too scared?” you teased, reminding him of how he almost ran out of the tarantula terrarium. it was honestly adorable, but at the same time he looked like he went to hell and back. 

poor man held onto you for the next fifteen minutes. 

“huh, very funny,” he said, fixing his hat, as if getting ready to fight the tiger himself. “let’s go.”

seungkwan

place: karaoke place

what they would do to make you feel special: at the end of the night seungkwan would pick out a (not so) low-key romantic, cutesy, first love coded song to sing (definitely not dedicated to you). 

what they would be like taking you out: a blushy and giggly mess. seungkwan would be so mesmerised by you, but at the same time too shy to actually look at you, kind of scared that you’d disappear if he’d stare for too long. his face would be as red as a tomato all night long, though he'd go back to his goofball usual self by the end of the night.

“what do you mean i got 95 out of 100?” seungkwan yelled at the machine and pushed his slightly sweaty bangs from his forehead, as if that would change the score written on the display. “this is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “seriously i’m so over this thing.” 

“seungkwan?” you asked, amusement lacing your voice. as much as you found his tantrum to be cute, you had one more mission to do that night. 

“yes?” he turned around at the speed of light, his neck cracking slightly. 

“could you sing one more song for me?” you asked. 

suddenly, as if the beef he had with the karaoke machine never happened, he pulled out the keyboard to type the song title. 

“of course i will, what a silly question, baby.”

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[natalievoncatte]

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

[writersrkive]

Warmth | Aaron Hotchner

summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.

genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.

a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.

Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.

“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.

"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.

“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.

“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.

“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.

“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."

A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.

“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.

“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."

“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”

“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”

That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.

I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.

“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.

“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.

“I'm fine, seriously.”

I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”

“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.

“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.

The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.

In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.

“I'm…” I tried to talk.

“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.

“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.