#when before he would be too scared to do any of that and just let the torment happen

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Tipping Point

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut

Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.

Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.

So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.

Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.

“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.

“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”

“What’s up?”

“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.

“Aunt Alex…”

“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”

She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.

“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.

The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

“In the back!”

You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.

This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.

He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.

“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.

“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”

Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.

“Does that fit well?”

Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.

It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”

“Better,” you smile.

“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”

He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.

“Am I holding it right?” you ask.

“Yes.”

His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.

“Now what?”

“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”

You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.

“Better?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Never.”

“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”

Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”

“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”

“Great.”

Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.

He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.

“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.

Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[mingi-s-dimples]

Raw Need - Yunho

KINKTOBER DAY 29, REQ. BY 🤧

~"IM BACK AGAIN W ANOTHER REQUEST okay so its an omegaverse , reader is an omega and their dear partner is an alpha ( lets say yunho) and like this is readers first rut she couldnt control it at all because it was her first ever rut and she didn’t want to go tell yunho but because of the sweet smell of her pheromones yunho instantly knew what happened and it was clear that reader was feeling hotter and redder than usual when yunho asked her about at first she said no but after a little time she told him which make yunho go feral he asked “Would u mind if i helped” (They never did the bombaya before but they took showers and he was BIG.) but yunho didnt wait for an answer and he put his head in her neck slowly kissing her neck inhaling her sweet smell making him go crazy and get hard (a little skip time like they got undressed blah blah blah ) and when it was time for him to enter her like she told him to go slowly and that shes a little bit scared because she never took him before aka like a over all like gentle first time but after he stretched her out he was rough going deeper and deeper every time and maybe a little after care too 👉🏼👈🏼"

pairing: alpha!yunho × omega f!reader

genre: 18+, omegaverse, slight filth

summary: your first rut washed rough over you... and even if you didn't wanna do anything about it... your man made sure he'd fuck you senseless thru your rut.

wc: 5.1k

warnings: omegaverse, harsh dom!yunho, virgin/first rut for reader, marking, love at first then rough sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, making out, praise, some pet names, unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: I loved writing this one tbh... bestie I hope you like it and it's to your liking 😁 ily 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The quiet hum of the afternoon wrapped around the room like a cocoon, its tranquility disrupted only by the faint shuffle of papers and the occasional sound of distant footsteps. The room was nothing short of lavish, its opulence apparent in every detail. Velvet curtains hung heavy over the tall windows, filtering the sunlight into soft, golden streams that spilled across the polished hardwood floor. A grand bed sat in the center of the room, its plush, cream-colored duvet perfectly arranged, though you hadn’t dared to sit on it. Across from the bed, a gilded mirror stretched nearly to the ceiling, its ornate frame gleaming faintly in the dim light. Yunho had chosen its placement himself, a detail that always made your cheeks flush when you caught his lingering gaze in its reflection. Now, with the heat of your rut clouding your thoughts, the mirror felt more intrusive than ever.

The air was thick, though, laced with something so delicate and sweet that it bordered on intoxicating. You didn’t notice at first. Or maybe you did, but the swirling haze of heat pooling in your stomach had grown too overwhelming to let you focus on much else.

Your rut was coming on fast—too fast.

Leaning against the edge of the heavy wooden desk for balance, you drew in a shaky breath, your hands gripping the smooth surface like it was the only anchor in the storm raging inside of you. A feverish heat coursed through your veins, making your skin flush and your breaths uneven. You swallowed hard, your gaze darting toward the door as anxiety churned in your chest.

Yunho was just outside.

You hadn’t planned on telling him. How could you? The thought alone made your cheeks burn hotter than they already were. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—he was always so gentle with you, so caring, even when his alpha instincts occasionally surfaced in subtle ways. But this was different. This was your first rut. An experience so raw, so visceral, that it made you feel exposed in a way you couldn’t explain.

But Yunho would never let it go unnoticed.

The soft knock on the door startled you, your pulse jumping as you instinctively turned your head toward the sound.

“Y/N?” Yunho’s voice, low and warm, slipped through the crack in the door. It wasn’t just a question—it was a demand cloaked in care, his presence pressing against the threshold like a force you couldn’t escape.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond. Surely he wouldn’t notice anything if you just—

The door creaked open before you could finish that thought, and Yunho stepped inside. His eyes found you instantly, and the moment they did, the room shifted.

The air grew heavier, electric, as his gaze darkened. His nostrils flared subtly, and you watched his jaw tense as he inhaled deeply. That sweet, unmistakable scent of your pheromones had reached him, and the effect was instant. His shoulders stiffened, the usual calm in his expression shattering as raw, unfiltered instinct bled through.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer than you expected, but the tension behind it was unmistakable. He took a step closer, then another, his broad frame making the room feel impossibly small.

You nodded quickly, too quickly. “I’m fine,” you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Yunho’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze sweeping over you. You could feel him dissecting every detail—the way your hands trembled against the desk, the sheen of sweat on your flushed skin, the way your breaths came faster than normal. He knew.

“It’s your first rut, isn’t it?” His voice was lower now, rougher, the barely contained growl in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, caught between denial and the truth that your body had already given away. Finally, you nodded, your gaze dropping to avoid the intensity of his stare.

But that was all it took.

Something inside Yunho snapped. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, and the tension that had been building between you broke like a dam. In the next instant, he was in front of you, moving faster than you could process. His hand cupped your face, firm and unyielding as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You should’ve told me.” His voice was rough, feral, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I’d let you go through this alone?”

His other hand found your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip as though anchoring you to him. His body was impossibly close now, radiating a heat that only seemed to amplify the storm inside you.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he rasped, his tone more growl than words.

Before you could answer—or even breathe—he leaned in, his lips brushing the curve of your neck. The kiss wasn’t soft; it was open-mouthed, searing, and possessive in a way that left you breathless. He wasn’t holding back anymore. The restraint he’d always shown around you was gone, replaced by something wild and uncontrollable.

His teeth grazed your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to make you tremble beneath him. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and rough, like a vow. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you.”

Yunho pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. “Let me take care of you,” he growled, his fingers tightening their hold on your waist. “Don’t you dare hide this from me again.”

Yunho’s eyes remained locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with a feral hunger that made your breath hitch. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but it was impossible to look away. He leaned in, his hand still firm on your waist, pulling you closer until the heat of his body overwhelmed your senses.

His lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, messy, and entirely consuming, his mouth moving against yours like he couldn’t get enough. When his teeth caught your bottom lip, biting just hard enough to make you gasp, a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. His nails dug into your waist, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the sheer strength he was holding back.

“Bed,” he rasped against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. Before you could even process the word, his hands were on you, guiding you backward. The desk’s edge scraped against your hip for a fleeting moment before his grip tightened, lifting you just enough to move you effortlessly.

You barely registered your back hitting the plush mattress until you felt the weight of his body hovering over you. Yunho’s movements weren’t rough, but they were purposeful, deliberate, as though his instincts had taken full control. His hands roamed your sides, firm and possessive as they found your waist again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intensity. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a moment of tenderness that contrasted starkly with the raw hunger in his expression.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the strain in it was evident. His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, the tension in his body clear as he awaited your answer.

You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly as you nodded, shy but certain.

That was all the permission Yunho needed.

His hands moved with urgency, tugging at your shirt as though it offended him. The fabric yielded easily under his grip, and though his movements bordered on aggressive, there was a reverence in the way his fingers ghosted over your skin as he worked. He paused only briefly, his gaze raking over you before his lips were back on your neck, trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses that left you breathless.

The heat pooling in your belly intensified as his hands slipped lower, brushing the waistband of your shorts. His touch was firm, unyielding, and it sent sparks through every nerve in your body.

A sudden thought flared in your mind, unbidden but vivid. You remembered the time you and Yunho had taken a shower together, an innocent moment that had left you more flustered than you cared to admit. You hadn’t been able to stop your gaze from wandering, and what you’d seen had stayed with you ever since. He was… packing, to put it mildly.

The memory alone was enough to make you press your thighs together, your body betraying the heat swirling inside you. Yunho noticed instantly. His eyes darkened further, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as though he could read your thoughts.

“You’re thinking about something,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Something that’s turning you on even more, isn’t it?”

You tried to shake your head, but Yunho wasn’t having it. His hand slid down to your thigh, gently coaxing it apart as his nails grazed your skin. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable, and it only made the ache in your core worse.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with want. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho’s lips didn’t relent, dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. His hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers digging into your skin as though anchoring himself. You could feel the possessiveness radiating from him, the way his touch claimed every inch of you.

“Mine,” he growled softly against your neck, the word vibrating against your skin before his teeth sank gently into the sensitive spot just below your jaw. The sensation sent a wave of dizziness washing over you, the heat pooling low in your belly becoming nearly unbearable.

Your hands moved instinctively, tangling in his dark hair as his lips continued their path downward. He seemed to revel in the way you clung to him, his low growl vibrating against your skin as his mouth traveled to your collarbone. He didn’t hesitate, leaving marks in his wake—small, dark bruises that bloomed on your skin like a map of his devotion.

“Yunho,” you whispered, your voice shaky and breathless as your body arched into his touch.

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His lips pressed to the curve of your shoulder before trailing lower. “Let me take care of you.”

Every kiss, every bite, every graze of his teeth left you reeling. His lips found the swell of your chest, your nipples hard, pressing kisses that were as reverent as they were feral. When his mouth closed over them, you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped you, your head falling back against the bed as your body melted beneath him.

“You’re so perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. His hands moved to your sides, holding you steady as his lips continued their descent. He kissed along the curve of your ribs, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin just enough to leave a tingle in their wake.

By the time his mouth reached your belly, you were dizzy, your mind fogged with the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. His tongue traced the sensitive dip of your navel before his teeth grazed just above it, and your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging softly in response.

Yunho groaned at your touch, the sound sending another jolt of heat through you. His lips continued their path lower, pressing kisses to the soft skin of your hips before finding the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

He paused for a moment, his breath ghosting over your skin as he looked up at you. The sight of him—his dark, feral eyes gazing at you from between your thighs, his lips slightly swollen and marked with your taste—made your breath hitch.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly before pulling you closer with a single, powerful motion.

Before you could process the movement, his mouth was working its way on your folds, his lips pressing against you with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. The sudden intensity of it made you gasp, your head falling back as the heat in your belly surged, consuming you completely.

Yunho didn’t hold back. His mouth moved with precision and fervor, his tongue working against your sensitive flesh in ways that left you gasping. Each stroke was deliberate, calculated, his lips and tongue dragging over every nerve ending until your entire body trembled beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs, firm enough to keep you open for him, his nails pressing into your skin as though daring you to move.

The sounds leaving you were unrestrained, soft moans mixed with whimpers that only seemed to spur him on. He groaned against you, the vibration sending a shockwave through your body that made your legs shake.

“Yunho—” you managed to gasp, your fingers tangling deeper into his hair, pulling just enough to draw another low growl from him. The way his tongue teased and circled your clit, the sheer intensity of his focus, had you spiraling.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and possessive. “Let me hear you.”

The coil in your belly tightened with every flick of his tongue, every gentle scrape of his teeth. Your legs trembled uncontrollably, the heat spreading through your entire body as your breaths grew shallow. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the relentless pleasure he was giving you.

When you finally reached your high, it hit you like a wave, crashing over you in a blinding surge of heat and sensation. Your body arched, your hands clutching at Yunho as soft cries spilled from your lips. He didn’t stop, his tongue coaxing you through every second of your orgasm until you were trembling from the overstimulation, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Good girl,” Yunho rasped, his voice laced with satisfaction as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

He stood, towering over you as his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. His muscles flexed as he pulled it over his head, tossing it aside without care. The golden light from the room caught the lines of his chest and shoulders, every movement accentuating the raw strength in his form.

You couldn’t help but stare as he reached for the waistband of his pants, his fingers deftly undoing the button before sliding them down. He was stunning, every inch of him commanding your attention.

Yunho’s eyes darkened as he caught you looking, his smirk widening. “See something you like?” he teased, though the heat in his gaze left no room for denial.

He climbed onto the bed with an ease that belied his size, his hands finding your waist again as he pulled you up into his lap. The shift was sudden, and you let out a soft gasp as he positioned you effortlessly. His knees rested on the mattress, and he held you securely, your legs draped on either side of his hips.

You realized the mirror was directly in front of you now, its reflective surface catching every detail of the moment. Yunho’s grip shifted, one hand sliding beneath your knees as the other found your chin, tilting your face toward the mirror.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and command. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed as you caught your reflection. The sight of yourself, completely exposed in his lap, was almost too much. You tried to avert your gaze, but Yunho’s fingers on your chin held firm, gently pulling you back.

“Don’t look away,” he said, his tone soft but unyielding. “I want you to see how stunning you are. I want you to see what I see.”

His hands shifted again, his fingers gripping beneath your knees to spread you open further. The action made you gasp, the vulnerability of the position sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“You’re mine,” Yunho said, his voice low and reverent as he held you in place. “Every inch of you is mine.”

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho's hands were firm but gentle as he guided you into position, pulling you into his lap. Your back pressed against his chest, and the warmth of his body surrounded you, his presence overwhelming in the best way. His hands moved to your legs, his fingertips sending little shivers through your skin as he positioned you just right. You could feel the heat of him beneath you, his cock brushing over your lower back with each movement. The proximity made your pulse quicken, the sensation of him so close that it nearly drove you wild.

You paused for a moment, your breath shallow, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding you. The overwhelming heat of the situation, the closeness, made your mind dizzy. You reached back, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself, and your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Yunho,” you whispered, the sound almost a plea.

“Yes, darling?” he stopped everything, looking in the mirror at you.

You hesitated for a moment. “It’s... my first time… c-can you... can you be gentle with me, at first?”

Yunho froze for a moment, his hands stilling under your knees. He could feel the nervousness in your touch, your soft voice carrying the weight of your vulnerability. He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm and reassuring.

“Of course, baby,” Yunho murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

You felt his hands shift, adjusting his position beneath you, and he moved with such careful attention. His body was so close that you could feel the heat of him against your back, the pressure building with every slight movement, but he held back, moving only as slowly as you needed. His grip on your legs tightened just enough to give you comfort and security, and you melted into his touch.

With a deep breath, Yunho slowly guided you down, inch by inch. You felt the initial stretch, the unfamiliar sensation, but his slow movements allowed you to adjust, your body beginning to relax into him. The feeling of his chest against your back, of his heat surrounding you, made your body respond, even if it was just from the closeness.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice a soothing hum in your ear. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe, take your time.”

You shifted slightly, the soft friction sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, and Yunho’s body tightened beneath you, a low growl escaping from his throat. He was fighting the urge to move faster, to take you with more force, but he restrained himself, focusing on you.

Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease, the heat in your core building as you adjusted to the feeling of him. You could feel him brushing against your back, his warmth spreading, and every soft touch, every movement, only made you crave more of him.

“You okay?” Yunho asked, his voice filled with concern, though there was a darker edge of hunger just beneath the surface. “Need me to go slower?”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you breathed out, “ I’m okay.”

The slow, steady rhythm continued as Yunho guided you, his hands holding your legs outwards as he effortlessly pulled you up and down on his cock, slowly. You could feel the power in him, the control, but also the tenderness with which he held you, the care in every movement. He was taking his time with you, making sure you were completely comfortable, completely lost in the moment with him.

After a few moments, you felt your body adjusting, the heat growing, and the soft ache turning into something deeper, more intense. You shifted again, this time pressing your back more firmly against his chest, seeking a deeper connection. Yunho immediately noticed the change, his breathing picking up as he responded with a slight shift of his own.

“I think you’re ready for more,” he muttered softly, his voice a mixture of admiration and hunger. “Tell me if I’m right, baby. You want more?”

You nodded shyly, your breath quickening as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. “Yes… please.”

Yunho smiled softly, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck, and without waiting another moment, he began to move with you, slowly, steadily, a little deeper, a little more insistent. The heat inside you began to build with each motion, your body finally responding fully to his touch.

As the moment stretched on, Yunho could feel his control slipping. The slow, steady pace had done its job—it had allowed you to adjust, to relax—but the desire building inside him was too much to bear. He couldn’t stay patient forever, not when the way you moved against him, so delicate and needy, was driving him wild.

With a low, barely contained growl, Yunho suddenly shifted. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you forward with a force that took you by surprise. You gasped as your chest pressed into the soft mattress, your body tilted just enough to feel the change. His hand moved swiftly to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he held you in place, his chest pressed against your back.

“May I go rougher?” Yunho’s voice was hoarse, his breath ragged against the back of your neck. “I can’t take it anymore. I need more.”

The words, so full of need, sent a rush of heat through your body. You could feel the raw desire in his voice, and without hesitation, you nodded faintly, unable to speak as your breath caught in your throat.

The moment you gave him that silent permission, Yunho’s pace shifted, becoming more intense. His hands gripped you more firmly as he guided you forward, his movements faster, deeper. Every shift of his body sent sparks through your skin, the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust. The pressure in your chest built as your body responded to him, the sensual rhythm becoming more urgent, more powerful.

His lips brushed against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice strained, but still soft with reverence. “So perfect for me.”

Each movement sent you spiraling, your body trembling with the force of the connection, with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Yunho’s hold on you was firm, possessive, yet still filled with the tenderness he couldn’t hide. He was in control, but it was clear that every inch of him was completely consumed by you.

Yunho’s grip in your hair tightened slightly, pulling just enough to send a shiver down your spine. The sensation was electrifying, the sharp contrast between his strength and the reverence in his touch overwhelming. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing over your skin as he whispered, his voice a low growl.

“Look at you, completely perfect,” he murmured, the words laced with possessiveness. His hand on your waist slid lower, his grip firm as he guided your body to move with his. Every shift, every deliberate motion, sent ripples of warmth through your skin, your senses heightened by the intensity of his presence.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice rough but filled with awe. “That’s all you, baby. You’re driving me insane.”

Your legs trembled as Yunho moved with more purpose, the power behind his actions leaving you breathless. His body fit against yours so completely, every part of him enveloping you as if he was meant to. His hand slipped from your waist to rest on your belly, pulling you even closer against him as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your jaw, his lips moving slowly, savoring every inch of you.

“I want you to let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice softening slightly as his lips moved back to your ear. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you, every sound, every feeling.”

The tension building in your body was unbearable, the heat pooling low in your belly as Yunho continued, his movements growing rougher, more commanding. The way he whispered praise into your ear only added fuel to the fire, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“You’re incredible,” Yunho groaned, his tone heavy with admiration and something darker, more primal. “I could stay like this forever.”

When the orgasm overtook you again, your body arched instinctively, every nerve alight with sensation. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, the overwhelming release leaving you breathless as soft cries escaped your lips. Yunho didn’t stop, his movements steady and sure as he helped you ride the high. His hold on you tightened, his growls low and guttural as he watched you come undone.

Even as the waves of sensation subsided, Yunho’s pace didn’t falter. His grip on your waist grew stronger, his other hand tangling in your hair once more as he pulled you back slightly to meet him.

“Stay with me,” he growled, his voice rough, his breaths shallow. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His movements became more intense, his need for you taking over as his strength pressed you firmly into place. The sound of his voice, the feeling of his body surrounding you, was too much. You could feel his restraint slipping, the raw hunger in his actions showing through as he drove himself toward his own high, spilling his load inches deep inside you, filling you up good.

When he finally stilled, his breath heavy and ragged against your ear, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your skin.

“You’re amazing,” Yunho whispered, his voice softening, though the roughness from before lingered in the edges. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

With a tender strength, Yunho sat back, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace. Your body felt light against his, completely enveloped in his warmth as he guided you to lean against his chest. His hands moved gently now, tracing slow circles on your waist as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

Tilting your chin upward with his fingers, Yunho made you look into the mirror once more. Your reflection was a testament to the moment—your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen, your hair slightly mussed… body all sweaty and your cunt dripping with both of his and your juices on his thighs. His gaze, dark and full of pride, met yours in the glass as he kissed your temple softly.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice deep but tender. “Do you see what I see? How beautiful are you?”

Your face heated further, and you tried to look away, but his hand was quick to guide your chin back, holding you steady.

“Don’t shy away,” Yunho said, his voice firm but full of affection. “You’re breathtaking. Perfect. Mine.”

And as he held you there, safe in his embrace, the intensity of the moment melted into a warm stillness. You could feel his heart beating steadily against your back, his lips pressing one final kiss to the crown of your head as he whispered once more, “Always.”

As the intensity ebbed and warmth began to settle over you both, Yunho’s grip on your waist softened slightly, though his presence remained firm and grounding. His breath was still uneven as it fanned against your ear, and his hand shifted to cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing across your flushed cheek.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges but filled with tenderness. His eyes searched yours as his fingers trailed softly down your jawline, grounding you even as the sensations still lingered. “You were so good for me… I need to know you’re feeling alright.”

You nodded faintly, still catching your breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay… I promise.”

Yunho’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that was just for you, warm and full of pride. “Good,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Because you were perfect. Better than perfect.”

With gentle yet deliberate strength, Yunho guided your body to turn and face him fully, his hands steady on your waist as he pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you so close it was as if he wanted to shield you from the world. The feeling of his warmth, his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, made you feel completely secure.

“That was your first rut,” he murmured into your hair, his voice reverent but laced with something darker, the remnants of his earlier feral energy still flickering beneath the surface. “And you handled it like you were made for me.”

His fingers trailed down your spine, his grip firm but soothing, as though he couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t let go even for a moment. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” Yunho whispered, his lips brushing against your temple before finding your ear. “You’re mine. Every single part of you, and I’ll never let you forget it.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent another shiver through you, but the tenderness in his embrace made you relax completely. When Yunho pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze was unwavering, dark with adoration and a lingering hunger, though his smile softened the edges.

“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before tucking you back into his arms. “Always.”

And in his embrace, the weight of the moment dissolved into something sweeter, safer. Even as your body hummed with the remnants of everything you’d just shared, it was his presence, his unyielding care, that made you feel entirely, utterly his.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive

[revelboo]

Me at your post:

Question. Have you ever thought about writing for the Constructicons? (Not with Prowl though). I think it would be hilarious.

Rewatched their G1 episodes today. Title is the song ‘Drive’ by The Matches. An attempt was made

Drive

Constructicons x Reader

• “I’m just saying. A little appreciation.” Exchanging a look with Long Haul, Scavenger tries to ignore Hook’s grumbling as they work. Pushing against a tree until the wood splinters and breaks so he can dove it over and drag it out of the way. Pausing to tip his head up at the night sky and wonder where home is. “We’re out here busting our afts and do we get any thanks?” Hook demands. No. What they’d gotten was their energon rations cut because in the Decepticon hierarchy, they’re not much higher than Insecticons. He doesn’t like it, but understands. Being forged here on this miserable mudball not Cybertron means being looked down upon. And he has no idea where Cybertron is among those glittering stars. Can it be home when he’s never set ped there?

• “We do our job. A fragging good job,” Scrapper says, trying to keep the peace as Bonecrusher utters a harsh laugh and Mixmaster just shakes his head at him. Like he doesn’t see the scorn. Knows the others think he’s oblivious, but he’s knows they’re looked down on until they’re needed. Devastator demands their respect, but on their own? They’re second class citizens. If even that. Some of the other Decepticons are all too happy to sneer at them, to assume that since they didn’t come from Cybertron they’re less.

• Bending to gouge up a handful of soil and to intake through his vents, separating out the individual components in his head, Mixmaster growls. Scenting those trace amounts of energon that are the whole reason they’re out here in the middle of nowhere. “No one wants to hear that, though,” Mixmaster mutters. “They want us to work and keep quiet. It’s here.” Glancing at his brother when Bonecrusher bumps him. “They’re scared of us,” Bonecrusher growls, beginning to aggressively clear the land of trees, movements sloppy and giving away that he’s been into the high grade. But they all know it’s Devastator that’s feared, not them. They’re tools. Nothing more. Disrespected and mocked by the rest of the Decepticons. Something they all feel and that gets compounded when they’re combined. That dissatisfaction growing every time they combine, spreading and feeding on itself when they separate again. Reaching a boiling point with no outlet to let off some steam. Except to destroy something. And there’s nothing here but trees.

• Exhausted and not even tempted by the hot, greasy smell of fast food in the bag in the passenger seat, you go over the list in your head again. Trying to remember if you’ve gotten at least a little something for everyone. That you’re ready for the upcoming holiday. You’d volunteered to work the day before for the extra cash, but you keep wondering if you’re forgetting something. Distracted you almost miss the huge, dark shape that comes sailing out of the woods. Slamming a foot on the brake as your car slides with a scream of tires, a tree slams into the road ahead of you and goes end over end in a shower of pine needles and broken branches. What? Toggling your emergency lights on, you put the car into park and get out, wincing at the biting cold. And your breath catches as it sinks in that a tree chucked like a javelin even though there’s no wind, no plausible explanation, nearly took you out. Squinting into the dark woods, your skin prickles as a red glow flares in the shadows. Then five more.

• Hears Bonecrusher laugh and Long Haul turns to follow his stare. Sees the tiny shape through the trees silhouetted by the headlights of the car behind them. There’s no way the little human can see anything more than the glow of their optics. But there’s a whisper of excitement twisting through him as Scrapper says, “Bottle of engex to whoever squishes it before it ruins everything.”

• Heart in your throat as those red glows shift and a branch cracks, there’s a roar from the trees that crackles through you and you forget the car. Forget everything beyond the animal need to get away. Running as trees crack and get uprooted with thunderous noise behind you to send you racing across the road and into the woods on the other side in a blind panic. Don’t even know what’s chasing you, only that you don’t want to find out. Is this what a rabbit feels like with hungry foxes snapping at its heels?

• Heavy peds tearing up dirt and leaves as he tries to overtake Hook, Scavenger hears Mixmaster calling out to the organic. Laughingly saying they only want to play. You’re surprisingly fast for being so small, but even noisier than Bonecrusher somehow. Energon pumping through his lines as you break from the trees, just a little shadow silvered by the moon, almost unreal looking as you pelt through the tall grass. Catches a glimpse of terrified eyes when you glance back and then you go down, disappearing completely.

• “Where’d it go?” Hook growls, reaching to push Scavenger out of his way as the rest of his brothers catch up and he realizes there’s a sheet drop, the ground giving way so suddenly you hadn’t seen it in time to react. Leaning down to look at the still form lying in the shallow stream at the bottom, there’s a momentary flicker of disappointment. Because chasing you had made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a long time. The hunt a high almost as sweet as combining.

• Lingering at the edge of the ravine, spark pulsing still with the excitement of your fear, Scrapper’s aware of Mixmaster and Bonecrusher shoving at each other. Of Long Haul and Scavenger both still staring down at their quarry. Turning away to order them back to work, he hesitates as Scavenger bumps his arm with a fist. “It’s still alive.” And he hears the low, pained sound from the little human. “Pretty fun to chase,” Long Haul adds, shooting him a look. Primus, are they wanting to keep you? Like a pet? All five of his brothers are staring at him now. Waiting for his decision. And groaning in defeat, he gestures at the drop. “Fine, but I’m not cleaning up after it.” Because you’re a distraction, something to keep them from dwelling on how unhappy they all are.

[crazylittlejester]

More about Time and Twi in your modern au pleaaaase 👀

ofc ofc!! i love to talk about these guys :3

- Twilight is Time’s sister’s kid, but she and her husband both passed so Twilight fell into Time’s care when he was 13 months old. Time and Malon are the only parents he’s ever known (he’s always known they’re technically his aunt and uncle, that was never hidden from him, but to him they’re mom and dad and he calls them that). Time and Malon couldn’t have had their own children and were going to be adopting anyway and though initially they’d planned on adopting more than one kid, Twi is an only child

- When he was little, Twi was really just Time’s little buddy. He’d follow him EVERYWHERE and get genuinely very upset if Time didn’t take him with him somewhere, though Malon talking quietly to him and just physically being there was always enough to calm him down again. Daycare did not go very well, the other kids stressed him out too much and he missed Time and Malon so badly he’d sit as close to the door as physically possible and he was just so distressed because he’d been ‘left somewhere’ that after like a month of trying, Time and Malon eventually just kept him on the ranch. Kindergarten also failed miserably, but because the ranch is so far away from things and other people they really really didn’t want to homeschool him because they wanted him to get to interact with other kids so they tried again for first grade and Twi DIDNT spend the entire first day crying so they counted it as a success (though he didn’t say a word to anyone all day, not even the teacher). EVENTUALLY he made a friend (Ilia), but it really did take him a few months before he spoke to anyone at school

- The first time he ever saw the goats Twilight just became OBSESSED with them, and he was too little to do a whole lot to ‘help’ take care of them, but Time would hold him and let him gently pet the goats and call it ‘helping’ so Twi could feel like he did something (ofc as he got older Twi started GENUINELY helping out on the ranch, but little baby Twi got to help by petting goats and it made him happy so Time wasn’t about to take that from him alksdkdk). Time also lifted up baby Twi to pet Epona and Twi just adored her so so much, Time will never be able to not smile at the memory of how big Twi’s eyes got with pure wonder and amazement when he put his little hand on Epona’s nose

- Time is the reason why at eleven years old Twilight was terrified of the muppets. They watched Muppets Most Wanted and Twi (bless his heart) was a little bit scared of it, and Time thought it’d be funny to put a bunch of pictures of evil Kermit all over the house as a joke and Twi ran into one in the dark and well, Time paid for his stupidity by staying up all night with his poor child (Twi’s not scared of the muppets anymore, but his heart WILL start beating faster and he does feel a little anxious if he runs into anything kermit related where he isn’t expecting to)

- Time would not call himself an anxious parent and Malon would very much like to disagree with him because he is SO overly worried about something happening to Twilight after Twilight at nine years old hopped off a horse a little carelessly because he was trying to be cool and ended up tripping, falling, and splitting his head open and poor Time just saw his kid go down and go limp and then there was blood just EVERYWHERE, and another time when Twi was 15 he almost died and Time was the one who was with him then too. Twi doesn’t feel like Time hovers over him by any means, he feels loved and like Time really cares about him, but Time’s genuine fear that Twilight is going to die or get seriously injured in some bizarre accident has led him to check his kid’s location at 3 in the morning (now that Twilight at 21 years old has been living in the apartment with Sky and War for 2 years) to make sure he made it home safely, and he’ll also pace and it drives Malon INSANE (she loves her husband and she understands his anxiety and she really wishes there was something she could do to help him calm down, but HE stresses HER out with the pacing and nervous muttering). Twi is well aware Time has his location, he also has Time and Malon’s and he doesn’t care that they can see where he is. He knows it makes Time feel better to be able to check in on him and also it’s very useful for when he texts and says he’s on his way to the ranch because its a decently long ass drive and then Time and Malon can see how far away he is (Twi also has War and Sky’s locations, and they have his)

- Time paid for Twi’s first tattoo after making him save up for it because he wanted to make sure that Twi was both serious and also going to be financially responsible enough to save for something he wanted while also being able to buy the things he needed, and he let Twi keep the money’d saved for something else. He’s paid for a few others too, and a couple piercings

- Twi really looked like a mini Time growing up. He has a much darker skin tone and brown hair and eyes, but his face shape and like his facial structure are identical to Time’s and the resemblance is so strong people have never doubted Time being his dad (even though he’s technically Twilight’s uncle)

- Twi and Time both have a habit of collecting strays, and they’ll bring them home to Malon and take care of them on the ranch until they can find the animal a nice home or release it back into the wild, though about four dogs now have been kept around because Twi and Time got too attached, as well as a couple cats and one person (War) /hj

[loganhowlettshousewife]

hi, i absolutely love your animal series and can not wait to read all of your diversity december fics but especially the one about an autistic reader! if it's something you'd like to write and/or something that you have the time to fit in would you consider writing a logan x autistic!reader who is having one of those days where their taste buds are all out of whack and he is trying so hard to find something that you can eat because he refuses to let you go to bed without food. maybe a bit of trial and error in their too, like he makes you something but you just can't eat it and expect him to get mad but he's so nice and gentle about it. thanks and don't worry if not 💛

logan howlett x autistic!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

you may have a meltdown if this day gets any worse. all you want is to go to bed, to shut your eyes to the too-bright lights and fall into a slumber where you don’t have to deal with the buzzing under your skin. tomorrow you’ll wake up feeling marginally better, and you’ll move on as you always do.

but logan’s protective, obsessive about taking care of you, and refuses to let you go to bed without eating. usually it’s nice to have someone like him around, helpful when you’re often forgetting to take care of yourself in such ways, and it’s likely that tomorrow you’ll be grateful to him for feeding you, but right now you’re just tired and overstimulated.

nothing tastes right, your taste buds are all out of whack, and no matter what he makes you, you’re pretty sure it will only make you feel worse. even some of your safe foods aren’t sounding very safe food-y at the moment.

he’s wrapped a weighted blanket around you, turned the lights off in your shared room so that the only illumination comes from the open window, the golden glow of the setting sun. you focus on your breathing, in and out, the texture and weight of the blanket, the rocking motion of your body, back and forth.

there’s a quiet knock on your door, logan letting you know he’s returned, making sure he doesn’t catch you off guard when you’re in this state. he enters with a plate of food, one of your safe foods, and yet when you have the plate in your hands, when you have a forkful of food in your mouth, all you can feel is nausea crawling up your esophagus.

“i can’t,” you choke out, pushing it back into his hands, swallowing against the lump in your throat and pressure in your chest, “just let me sleep. i’ll be better tomorrow.”

he stands by your bedside but doesn’t come any closer, allowing you full control of the situation, letting you decide what kind of proximity you can handle right now. his eyes are so gentle, so understanding, and the kindness he affords you only makes you feel worse.

you wish he would shout at you, call you impossible the way your parents did, throw his hands in the air and tell you to deal with it yourself if you’re going to be difficult. his reactions are an unknown in a world that you thought you finally understood, and it scares you sometimes, how easily he breaks through your walls with his helpful nature and quiet admittances of somewhat understanding the way you’re feeling.

“you can’t go to bed without food,” he says, as if he doesn’t do it all the time. but he wants you to be healthy, never wants you to imitate his bad habits.

tears prick at your eyes, frustration rising in your chest, anger at yourself and at him and at the world and at your brain for being the way it is. he catches your hands before you can bury them into the skin of your arms, nails digging into the flesh, the only way you’re able to let out the volatile energy coursing through you.

“i’ll eat this, you don’t have to,” he continues, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, “just tell me something you think you can eat. anything. it doesn’t have to be big or a full meal. and i’ll go make it for you.”

he’s too gentle with you, too kind, too understanding. it’s something you never thought you’d find in a relationship, not when you’ve been told your entire life that it’s too difficult to deal with your issues. but if logan’s willing to put in the effort, you tell yourself that you’ll try too, push yourself to be the person he thinks you can be.

so you let your head fall into his chest. he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t push your boundaries any further, just lets you rest there while you think, while you cycle through all your safe foods to find the least offensive of them. and when you whisper it against the soft, worn material of his shirt, he smiles down at you and says, “okay.”

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

autistic!reader: @thegothempress @z0m3r-blud @yourlocalmerchgirl

[starfxkrinc]

hey moony! can you pls write ab a conjugal visit with felon!jj. love you. smooches

less conjugal visit and more "first day out" fuck

you were trying to stall, doing your best to divert jj's attention away from the cleavage of your shirt, but it was impossible. he was a man starved, having gone 6 years without the touch of a woman and only having your letters to go off of.

there was a serious of poorly thought out decisions that led you here. from signing up to be an inmates penpal, to the explicit descriptions of what you'd do if you met to the risqué polaroids you attached to said letters. in your defense it didn't seem like jj would be getting out any time soon.

just your luck he got off on good behavior.

the meager meal was barely enough to distract him, even as he wolfed down what had to be his first good meal since he got out that morning. you on the other hand struggled to eat your fries, trying your best to chug down the ice cream soda he got you as a treat.

"you said it was your favorite." he had nudged it towards you, looking deceptively sweet with those blue eyes even has his large tattooed hand spelled danger. "and you're gonna need your energy. trust me."

still, you drunk it down, grateful for the rush of sugar to snap your sense as he paid for the meal. the motel wasn't far, a quick five minute drive on the back of his bike and before you knew it you were being walked through the door, with his lips on yours--his still salty and yours still sweet-- and a hand palming your ass.

jj barely got the two of you im, but he deposited you on the bed, turning to obsessively turn all the locks before he took off his shirt, fumbling with his pants and boots in his fervor to get naked.

"um, jj i don't know bout all this-" you sit still, shivering in the a/c chilled room overtly aware of how much of your ass hang out your shorts and the way your nipples are poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. there's no denying you look like the kind of girl that'd be here.

"aw cmon, don't pussy out on me now cupcake, you're just excited. bet you didn't think you'd see me so soon." he's right in front of you now. big and broad and glowing even in the dim lamplight, "talked all that shit in the letters now look at you. all scared."

you're defensive, "m'not scared." you were but he didn't need to know that.

"yes y'are. pretty little thing like you don't know what you're in for. a man has needs babydoll. and when those needs aint been met he gets a little..." he twists a hand beside his head, "cagey. now relax i aint gonna hurt you. take your clothes off."

shaking, you do. peeling your shorts off as you keep your eye on the bulge in his pants. when you take your shirt off, he gets so hard the head of his cock pokes out the top of his waistband.

you reach for him, tugging his bottoms down until your faced with every inch of jj's red, throbbing dick. suddenly, you become very aware of your months of involuntary abstinence, "is that gonna fit?" you moan, watching a bead of pre drip from where it pooled in his foreskin.

"i'll make it."

jj hauls you up by the back of the neck, kissing you hungrily before he turns you around to sprawl on your stomach. he spreads you open from the back so he can trace his thumb from your sticky hole to your clit, "that's what the fuck im talkin about." he mutters more to himself than you, adjusting so he can press into you.

the moan he lets out just from the heat of your pussy makes you shudder, then you tense at the first stretch of resistance.

"wait. jj, wait go slow, you're too-"

he pauses, "you done this before right?"

jj doesn't give you time to answer before he sinks in, bottoming out on the first thrust with a sticky squelch as you yelp underneath him.

"shit, just stay down babydoll. let me take this." he sets a punishing pace, holding you down with his hands on your hips as he fucks you rough and steady. you've never heard a man as loud as him before--panting and whining as you suck him in.

but you're not faring much better, each smack of his hips against your ass sends you sliding up the bed, you're stuffed so full you don't know whether to crawl away or throw your ass back for more. there's no denying it, you've never been fucked like this before. like the wet snatch of your pussy was a lifeline.

whoever was on the other side of the wall was in hell. the sounds coming from the two of you were ridiculous as you begged for him to slow down. the way he battered your cervix and pressed relentlessly against that sticky spot inside you had you in tears, clenching around him sporadically as you came. over and over from the overstimulation. there was no build up, no slow spread across your body as it hit you like a train, leaving you delirious.

"atop--stop--i can't, ohh my god, it hurts! i can't stop--"

jj clamps a hand over your mouth as he drops down, covering your body with his as he picks up the pace. he's slamming into you so hard all you can do is let out little squeaks.

"nuh uh, you need that sugar i--fuck--promise." he groans loud and long in your ear with his sweaty body sticking to yours as he pumps you full of cum. you can't tell which of you is shaking more.

"fuck. don't know who needed that more you or me." he reaches over to grab a cigarette, lighting it then taking a long drag, "i normally last longer than that sugar, swear i do. just cut me some slack alright it's been 6 years."

all you can do is let out a snort, feeling your eyes growing heavy as your body calms, "food. i want food."

jj smiles, "good. gonna need all the food we can get i booked us for 3 nights."

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) christmas miracle !

🕸🕷✮⋆ [jaemin x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.3k w. cursing, slight angst, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

august 22nd, 2019

“jaem?” you called out, your voice barely a whisper as your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat among the comfortable silence. he hummed in response, his hand continuing its caresses in your hair. “i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you mumbled, voice on the verge of breaking.

you felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh “i know” your boyfriend answered, his tone matching yours.

“i love you” you said, unconsciously cuddling closer to him as if you were scared of letting go. you were, because you knew that if you did it would be the last time you would be this close to him in a very long time.

“i know” he repeated as he held you closer “i love you too, and i’m sorry”

“i know” you mimicked, rising from your previous position while still sitting close to him “i don’t doubt that you love me, jaem, it's just… i can’t go on with a relationship where you disappear for a week and then call me like nothing happened.” your hand found his, your fingers intertwining. “i love you, but you’re not opening up to me and i can’t understand why you do the things that you do.”

jaemin listened attentively, his heart breaking further with each of your words. he knew it was true, all of it, but he wasn’t capable of talking about what was going on when he couldn’t even understand it himself. he felt embarrassed to tell you that there were days where he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed to eat, much less to grab his phone to call you. when two days had gone back with zero contact and he felt a little better, he was way too ashamed to reach out and just waited long enough that he could pretend he hadn’t spent days crying on his bed for no reason.

he loved you more than anything in the world, more than he loved himself, even. he also knew you would never shame him for feeling the way he did, but you would worry. you would put aside your life to help him get his back, and he could never ask you to do that, he loved you too much.

“you deserve so much better,” he spoke after a few seconds of silence, his free hand moving to cup your cheek. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be what i promised you to be”

“you were everything and more” you smiled sadly, feeling your eyes burning with tears “i need you to promise me something”

“what is it, love?” he mumbled as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“if you still want me when the time is right, promise you will call me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out” the tone of your words was so serious that it left no doubt on him that you meant every one of them.

“i promise i will” he gave you a weak smile, moving his hand to place it in front of you and extending his pinky finger towards you.

you interlaced your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to kiss it and seal the promise. “i should go home now,” you said weakly, tearing your hands apart from each other to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

jaemin wanted to beg you to stay, at least until the morning so he could hold you through one more night. but he couldn’t, he knew too well that one more night would make you back away from your decision and he couldn’t hurt you any further.

“want me to drive you?” he asked, his hand feeling cold without your warmth.

“i’ll get an uber, don’t worry” you gave him a sad smile as you grabbed your bag from the floor before walking towards him and cupping his cheek, crouching slightly to place your forehead against his. “i love you”

“i love you more” he answered, a single tear escaping his eyes as he looked at you one last time before you walked out of his room for the last time.

…

december 18th, 2024

jaemin couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he walked out of his friends’ apartment. it had been an afternoon full of laughter and happiness, one of the many that had slowly healed his heart over the years. he waved goodbye to jeno, who was getting into his car to drive home. he had offered him a ride, but jaemin felt the need to walk in the cold weather, it wasn’t that long of a walk to his apartment.

even when he had been as happy as he had, he couldn’t deny that watching his friends be coupley and cute had struck a nerve he didn’t even know he had. he didn’t know he wanted all of that, someone to tease, to kiss and to have stupid ugly sweater competitions with, but he did, and that could only mean one thing. he was ready, and the time was finally right.

that’s how he found himself standing at the edge of the river, overlooking the scenery as his thumb hovered over the call button. he stared at his phone screen as he chewed at the inside of his lip, he never deleted the picture he had for your contact; a picture of 19 year old you with your cheeks being squished by his large hand.

he smiled at the sight, feeling his heart squeeze with a mixture of nostalgia and guilt. would you still want him to contact you even though it had been five years since you broke things off?

“ i don’t care if it’s ten years from now and we haven’t spoken since, promise me you will reach out”

your voice resonated in his head and his hand moved on its own to press the button that had been haunting him for the past five minutes. he took the phone up to his ear, trying his hardest to breathe properly and maintain his calm as the tone ringed. 

what if you had changed your phone number? what if you had a partner? what if you simply didn’t want to hear from him after this long? what if he had changed way too much for you? what if-

“hello?” his thoughts were cut off by a voice on the other line. your voice. “hi?” you asked again, and he had to snap off of his thoughts.

“yn” he blurted out, his voice sounding completely breathless. he didn’t expect you to know who it was, but he didn’t seem to be able to say anything else. there was silence for a couple of seconds, and he thought he heard your breath hitch.

“jaemin?” you spoke, sounding as if you had just gotten a call from a ghost. 

“yeah, it's me” he breathed out, cautious with his words. he couldn’t say he wasn’t completely scared shitless in that moment.

“hi” you answered, and he could hear the smile on your astonished voice. 

“hi” shit, he really had to start talking more. “you didn’t change your phone number” no shit.

“i didn’t” you spoke “you did”

“i changed a lot of things” the boy spoke, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips. 

“you kept my contact” you remarked, and he couldn’t understand how he could be so happy even when his heart was about to fall out of his ass.

“i promised i would call you” if i still wanted you. “so here i am, i hope it's not too late”

“it’s not” you assured, feeling speechless at how he had actually called you.

“good. uhm, i was wondering if you’d like to come get coffee with me sometime” he asked, his hand going to scratch the nape of his nape as it did when he was nervous. 

“i would love that, just tell me when” a smile took over his face immediately, feeling incredibly grateful to whatever saint had made you the nicest, most beautiful soul that could’ve ever stepped foot on earth.

“is tomorrow too soon?” he asked softly, knowing that his request was a little greedy, but he had spent five years without hearing your voice and he didn’t think he could stop now.

jaemin heard you chuckle from the other line “no, it’s no” he almost cheered at the sound of your voice “wanna meet at sunrise café at like 11?” 

“of course, that’s perfect” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him “do you need me to pick you up?” 

“nah, i work just around the corner” you answered, being followed by silence. the boy didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t trust himself to say anything else without going overboard. “i'll see you there then?”

“yeah, i’ll see you there” he said, being sure that you could hear his smile in his voice. “bye, yn”

“bye, jaem” you said before hanging up. fuck, he had missed the way his name sounded when you said it.

…

jaemin found himself sitting in a booth inside the café you had agreed to meet in. nostalgia was flooding his body, remembering all the times you had sat on that same seat when you were together. as the minutes passed, he began to feel uneasy. had you planned on standing him up as revenge for all the times he did all those years ago? no, you weren’t like that at all. maybe you had forgotten?

“hi” his attention was called back into reality by your voice again. he lifted his eyes to meet yours, and he could have screamed right then and there. he had always thought you couldn’t get prettier than you were, but he had no idea what he was talking about. the woman that stood in front of him was a work of art, an angel that was blessing him with the ability to look at her.

“yn, hi” he muttered breathlessly as he stood up. he was too stunned to know what to do now that he had you in front of him. you smiled at him and he felt his heart stop, you were fucking unreal. “here, go ahead” he muttered as he politely moved a chair back for you to sit, causing you to thank him.

“it’s nice to see you after so long” you said once you were sitting in front of each other.

“it is” he smiled, still trying to calm his racing heart “five years is a really long time, i’m sorry i didn’t contact you sooner” his smile turned apologetic “i was in a really rough spot, but i’m better now”

“there’s nothing to apologize for” you reassured “you needed time, i understood that” jaemin felt like he could start crying on the spot. you had always been so understanding and warm, even when he didn’t deserve it at all. “now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“well, i’m a photographer now” he said, marking the beginning to a long, overdue conversation about life through the last five years.

hours passed with both of you sitting in the coffee shop, long enough for you to feel bad about being there for so long and deciding to go on a walk along the river bank, seemingly not getting enough of each other’s company.

“so yeah, that didn’t really work out” you shrugged as you concluded your story about your last boyfriend, who jaemin had asked about very casually. 

“he sounds like an asshole” he chimed in, eliciting a laugh to escape your lips.

“he kind of was, yeah” you had to agree, nodding softly. “i’m glad that’s over, to be honest”

“i’m glad it’s over, too,” jaemin blurted out, his eyes widening slightly at the realisation of the implication of his words.

you raised your eyebrows with an amused smile “i’m sure you are”

…

it had been a little under a week since you and jaemin had reconnected, and he could say that he had never felt so happy in his life. he knew you felt the same, he could see it in your smile and your shiny eyes.

“so yeah, i was going to go visit family but i got snowed in in seoul” you shrugged your shoulders as you recounted your failed christmas plans. “same thing happened to my cousin, it’s like a curse.”

jaemin listened intently as he looked at your pretty face, an idea popping into his head “you could come spend christmas with my friends and i” his voice was nervous, unsure of if he was moving too fast.

“are you still friends with jeno and them?” you asked, and he nodded, causing you to smile. you took a few seconds to weigh out your options, coming into a conclusion rather quickly. “then i would love to”

jaemin smiled brightly as he continued walking, his hand slowly reaching for yours as he interlaced your fingers wordlessly.

…

“this is crazy, i would never have thought i would see you together again” jeno spoke as he watched you and jaemin sitting next to each other on heachan’s couch, a little too close for it to be casual.

“some things change and others stay the same” you shrugged, smiling sweetly as you turned your head to look at jaemin, who was already staring at you.

“this is sickeningly sweet, i'm gonna go help in the kitchen” the taller boy grimaced, standing up to walk away, leaving you and jaemin alone in the living room.

“i don’t think we stayed the same, you know” he commented, looking at you with lovesick eyes. “i would never do the things i did back then without giving you an explanation”

“promise?” you asked, a smile on your perfect lips as you extended your pinky towards him.

“promise” he answered, intertwining your fingers and leaving a kiss to seal the promise.

you mimicked his action and wordlessly stared into his eyes, marvelled at the way the christmas lights reflected in his eyes, looking just like stars.

it was surreal to be there with him after so long, but it was the perfect christmas miracle.

★ blue's corner ;; another part of of my christmas special with my first ever nct dream bias... i hope you like it ! this is part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

© peterm4rker, 2024

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part seven

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: omg hi i am not dead i swear i was just in school which,,, was pretty close to death but here i am

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

Coryo was getting frustrated that it seemed you didn't want to tell him anything. Tell, write, confess through charades- whatever it would take. Whatever it was that you went to Dr. Gaul about, you were taking it to the grave.

He had to be fair, though, he was scared to ask directly.

When he went to your house that evening, you had just wanted to talk about his apprenticeship with her. You were so excited, and the fact that your reason for attending the citadel was still an unknown slipped easily to the back of his mind because you were smiling again.

'I'm so proud! :)' You had written on that notepad of yours moments after pulling away from a hug, nearly bouncing with excitement as you held the book up for him to read your thoughts.

You were smiling again, and he wasn't going to ruin that for the world- so he just trusted that if it was important you would tell him, because that's what you always did. You told each other nearly everything, important or not, and this was an odd exception but as the weeks went by he figured that it was just nothing at all, and you had forgotten the event altogether.

Your parents weren't home today, but your staff let Coryo in anyway, as they always did. You had told them years ago he could come and go as he pleased, so they were used to it. They rarely even notified you of his arrival anymore, it had well and truly become his second home.

The halls of the large estate were quiet until he reached the wing of your room. Opera music poured from behind your closed bedroom door, a song he had never heard before. But it was your voice he was hearing over the crackling of the track, no doubt in his mind.

His feet carry him faster down the hall, and he could just about hear his heart in his throat.

It was you. You were singing again.

Coryo opens the bedroom door, hesitantly, almost; equal parts delighted and shocked and scared he was dreaming. But there you were. Your back was to him, your form encased in tulle and embroidered silk around the bodice that's tied loosely, just enough to hold it on. In the mirror he could see your reflection, your eyes closed for the time being and lips moving with every word. But you weren't singing.

Your record player spins and cracks in the corner, volume cranked as high as it would go and he wonders if that was an intentional reflection of the power behind your voice in its natural form. To convince you that you were back in that moment, that you had never changed. Every year your parents get you a record of every performance and dress rehearsal you had done that year, assuming they were good enough to make the annual cut. This one, he recognizes is from last year. Watching you pretend to be the girl you once were, god, Coryo feels his cheeks burning- he shouldn't be seeing this, he's most definitely intruding, even though he would love to sink into this moment and just for a few minutes, be able to pretend with you until maybe it would just come true.

He takes a small step back, intending to close and then knock on the door to give you a chance to prepare for his entry, but you hear the slightest creak of the floor under his heel. You nearly jump two feet in the air where you're stood across the room, hands flying to your chest to hold onto your racing heart, feeling it kickstart from the sudden intrusion. You catch a glimpse of him in the mirror and spin around quickly, dress swinging around your legs as soft as a cloud while your lips form his name.

"Sorry." He chuckles, watching you bunch up the skirt and stomp over to your record player. The fact that your embarrassment was quickly manifesting as upset was something he couldn't help but find nothing short of adorable.

You turn off the record with a huff of silent frustration, your cheeks burning under his gaze. You've no doubt scratched the vinyl in your haste, but you can't be bothered to care at the moment. The next time you played it you'd only hear this moment anyways, so you knew this one would soon be joining the oldest ones at the back of your closet.

"So... how's it going?" Coryo asks, but the slight upturn at the corner of his lips is enough to make you feel that he's laughing at you.

You wave at him dismissively, brow still creased and that little pout still forming your expression as you stomp over to your walk in closet and close the door with a dramatic slam.

He laughs a little to himself, making his way over to your bed and sitting down on the plush sheets, placing his bag next to him and rifling through it to gather what he had brought for you.

He wasn't sure if you would like it, he was going out on a bit of a limb here- but the Plinth Prize was treating him so well he could afford to fumble a few impromptu gifts.

You emerge a minute or so later, still kicking your poofy dress off your feet and into the depths of the closet as you pull the drawstrings on your pyjamas tighter. They may have been Coryo's at some point, a relic from days past when you were allowed to have sleepovers, but by now it hardly mattered.

You fix Coryo with a glare over your shoulder as you shove the closet door closed and he makes quick work of asking how your "performance" went.

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry. Should have knocked." He laughs, shrugging as you pad over to the bed, slippered feet hardly making a sound. You throw yourself down next to him, dragging your hands down your cheeks before sitting up again and grabbing your notepad from the side table.

'If you tell anyone, you'll be the next one to lose your voice.'

"Ha, ha." Coryo mocks, rolling his eyes. "I'm hoping you'll forgive me when you see what I brought for you."

You tilt your head, eyes flicking to his bag as he pulls a couple thin books from it. Sheet music. He's honestly surprised you couldn't smell it as soon as it passed the threshold of your property within his bag.

You take the books from him eagerly, hardly sparing a glance to the cover of the first one before beginning to flick through it, eager to see its contents and imagine the sound. In your mind, your fingers are already trailing over the keys discovering a new pattern, a new melody to fill the painful silence of your world.

Until... it doesn't work. You're looking at the sheet music and the sound doesn't come, you can't picture it the way you normally can.

Your brow furrows as you flip back to the front page.

"It's for a guitar." Coriolanus explains, having picked up on your obvious distress right as you read the cover.

You give him a thoroughly confused look, the blue of his eyes offering you no explanation like it so often did.

"I thought maybe... it might be good for you to try something different. If you wanted." He adds, leaning back on his palms. "I mean, you're really good at piano, and singing, and the harp sometimes, right? So I just thought maybe trying a new instrument would give you something to do, a bit of a change of... musical scenery, if you will."

You tilt your head slightly as you look down at the pages again, considering his suggestion. All you can think of, selfishly, is Lucy Gray playing that guitar in her interview, and the way Coryo looked at her before she died in the Games. How her voice seemed to enchant him when she sang at the reaping, and how he had looked over at you expecting a pleasant reaction from you as well, expecting you to see some form of kinship in her.

You force a slightly tense smile onto your lips, nodding in agreement. "Thank you." You mouth to him, trying to seem cheery about it as you wrap an arm around his shoulders to give him a hopefully convincing side hug which he happily returns.

It didn't look that hard, after all, and you're sure you could play guitar better in a few weeks than Lucy Gray Baird ever could after a lifetime of practice. There's only one way to prove it.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[babiestbubbles]

Jason Todd Agere HCS

The first of many, icl. I am possessed by DC demons, I have SO MANY thoughts abt them, pls pls pls hmu w/ Prompts, I am dying to write about these little bat boys

Primarily, if not exclusively, regresses when under the influence. The man is so repressed and afraid of his regression that the one of the only ways he can properly slip into his headspace is when he's drunk/high/etc.

Experiences a LOT of impure regression. Sometimes it's little imperceptible things like accidents after nightmares, so at first he brushes it off as a trauma response (which, technically it is but he doesn’t know that yet) or just a lack of bodily control that comes with revival. It slowly evolves into deep, complete regressive episodes when faced with heavy injury, fear toxin, or when he's home and safe after mission.

To expand on the previous point, he has enough control to keep from slipping during fights/high adrenaline situations, but the second his mind and body register genuine safety (ie. arrival at one of his personal/hidden safe houses or Roy's/a close friend's) he plummets into littlespace.

His close friends aren't overly jarred by it, Jason's always been a little softer, a little more sensitive after rough mission. He always meticulously checks them all over first, only allowing them to give him the same treatment once he's certain all immediate needs have been attended to. It's not their place to judge if over the months that softness has evolved from wordless whimpers and silent tears to soft babbles and tiny acts of self soothing.

If digging through his duffle and shoving a familiar stuffed bear into his arms keeps him from wiggling and whining as they attend to his wounds, just as he did theirs not 5 minutes earlier, who are they to look a gift in it's mouth? It's not like rougher, in-field Jason would take to being patched up all that better.

The process would be laced with fussing all the same, whimpers swapped for strings of curses and flinches traded for Jason brashly pulling away, insisting he could do it better himself. At least this way they can be sure his reactions are signs of genuine pain and discomfort rather than scorn and judgment for their first aid abilities.

He would genuinely rather die again then let any of his family know about his regression and makes it an active point to hide it from them, even at the expense of his health and wellbeing.

Idk much abt Steph but I think she, if anyone, would be the only one to pick up on it. I also think she's the best person of the bats to figure it out, because unlike the others who would confront him about it head on and probably scare him off, I think Steph would soft-launch her awareness of Jason’s regression.

It wouldn't be baby-talk and piles of presents. It would be keeping a few spare kids items in her pouches, a tiny teddybear, a pacifier, lollipops. Things she could easily brush off as occupational necessities.

He has almost NO gear on his own. He has the bear Talia gave him when he was first looking after him. (Before she'd thrown him into the pit back when his mind was too frazzled to recognize or comprehend most of his surroundings. When all he could rely on was his senses for comfort. She picked up on this quickly, flooding the boy with soft scents of cinnamon and nutmeg, cardamom tea, fluffy teddy bears and blankets.)

Aside from the bear all he has is a teether, a busted up old thing. It had water in it at some point, he'd found it in the clearance aisle of a Duane Reade, cheap enough to justify to himself. He'd muttered something about it being good to have for keeping toddlers quiet.

It' hadn't lasted a night in the package before he was gnawing at it, suckling on it, finally satiating the desire to nurse his thumb that he refused to indulge.

The teether had made it all of two weeks before he'd worn it out, busting it amidst a particularly bad crying fit. It only made him cry harder, and while he knew logically he should’ve tossed it the second it broke but he couldn't bear to part with his only other comfort item, and he knew he didn't have the stomach to try replacing it.

That it's for nowwww, pls gimme other characters to do!! I love writing abt them, I could honestly do another dump of just Jason hcs, I have so many thoughts about these little bat boys

Obligatory self-promo for my DC agere discord server

https://discord.gg/QwtaNKMq

Join it! Come harass me for fics, hcs, and drabbles personally ‼️ /silly

[fairyniceyeah]

You made my dawn - Lost in the big city 🦌🐸

Titel from 1 to 13 (SEVENTEEN)

Previous story: Choreography

Summary: Looking at the clock she saw that it had been nearly two hours now and the snow was just falling more and more, the streets frozen and layered in white. And Jisoo and Minghao were out there, lost. 

CW: /

Main characters: Jisoo/Joshua + Minghao

How could Eunji have been so stupid? How could she have let Jisoo and Minghao leave the dorm, just the two of them? She should have known better.

Jisoo had assured her he knew the way to the supermarket - which was just a ten minute walk from the dorm - by the back of his hand. Minghao, who was new to Seoul and the group, had been asking for snacks and Jisoo had wanted to show him the area anyways. The older trainee clearly remembered how awful and confusing the big city had been for him when he had first arrived in Korea. 

Though neither of them were strangers to big cities, Seoul was still overwhelming.

Especially for two kids who could barely read Hangul. Jisoo knew a lot of words but still struggled with spelling. Minghao was still in the process of even learning what sounds each letter made. 

Especially for two kids who were both shy and would be too scared to ask for help. Minghao was a naturally shy person, so even if he knew Korean he would be too shy, and Jisoo was still too unconfident to speak to anybody outside the company.

Especially for two kids who had no phones, no measures, to contact her and ask for help. The company didn’t want them to be distracted from their schedules with phones. Eunji had made sure that all trainees had cards with her name and phone number in their bags but how would the two of them even ask somebody to call her? It was such a deeply flawed system but before today she hadn't thought about it.

Especially in the deep, dark winter. Both kids had winter coats, of course, Jisoo’s mom had bought him one before he had left and the manager’s had thrown their money together to buy one for Minghao. Still, it was freezing outside.

Eunji rubbed her face, sighing deeply. The two should have returned over an hour ago. At first she had given them the benefit of doubt. Maybe they had taken longer than expected or forgot something and went back. But now it was obvious something was wrong. 

She didn’t want the other trainees to worry and she needed to do something. Anything. So she texted the other managers to let them know what was going on and wrapped herself in her own winter jacket, throwing on a scarf. Then she trudged outside, the snow crunching under her feet.

The evening air was chilly, biting, and Eunji couldn’t help her worry. She walked to the supermarket as fast as she could in these conditions, nearly slipping once or twice.  

When she reached the supermarket he didn’t find the boys inside but the cashier told her that two teenagers fitting her description had been there some time ago. That didn’t help Eunji’s worry at all, the opposite really. Where were they?

Stepping outside the supermarket into the freezing air she shivered. She didn’t even know how to find her lost sheep, having no idea where they might have gone. She hurried through the streets, glancing at every entrance door or any possibility where Jisoo and Minghao could be hiding from the now falling snow. But it was fruitless. None of the passer-byes she asked had seen them though some expressed their sympathy seeing how frantic Eunji was. 

She sank down on a cold bench when she reached the end of another street, placing her head in her cold hands. She had no idea where to look - she should have stumbled upon them on their way back if they were going towards the dorm. 

Eunji took out her phone from her pocket, about to talk with the other managers. If the kids didn’t show up soon, she would have to call the police and that was not something she wanted to do. How could she admit that she had so thoroughly failed her kids? Though of course her pride was never above her trainees' wellbeing. 

Looking at the clock she saw that it had been nearly two hours now and the snow was just falling more and more, the streets frozen and layered in white. And Jisoo and Minghao were out there, lost. 

“Minho-oppa”, she mumbled into her phone, the other manager having picked up as soon as the call had gone through. “I can’t find them. What am I gonna do? It’s so cold outside and they must be so scared. I am scared.”

“Eunji, take a deep breath”, Minho advised, though his voice was shaking too, “it’s no help if you lose your cool. They need you right now. Hyunseok, Jiwon and I will go out too. Jisu is with the other trainees, okay? We’ll find them.”

“Thank you, oppa”, Eunji said, following his advice. Her breath was freezing in the air. Just as she was about to hang up, her phone started to vibrate, a second call coming in.

An unknown number. 

Eunji didn’t even say goodbye to Minho, already hanging up on him so she could take the call. Maybe somebody had found them.

“Hello?”, she asked, feeling herself start to shake in anticipation. She didn’t know what she would do if this wasn’t somebody who had found her kids. 

“Is this Park Eunji?”, a kind voice on the other side asked, sounding like an elderly woman, “legal guardian of, uh, Jisoo and Minghao?”

“Yes”, Eunji said quickly, “did you find them? I have been looking for them everywhere.”

“Yes, the boys are with me. My name is Kim Jihye, I found them huddled outside my café, freezing cold some time ago. I’m sorry it took so long to inform you, I had to call in my daughter to translate into English. Jisoo didn’t know how to ask me to call you in Korean.”

“Oh, thank you so much for going all the way. Are they okay? Where should I come?”, Eunji asked, ready to sprint into whichever direction she needed to get to them.

“It was no problem at all”, Jihye said, “they are adorable kids and so polite! They were a bit spooked and were cold but I made them some hot chocolate and they are now cuddled up under a blanket together. They are waiting for you though, I think they miss you.”

Jihye gave Eunji the address to her café and soon the manager was rushing through the streets, only slowing down when she was about to slip. On her way she called Minho to inform him that the kids were found and he promised to come by with a car to take them home.

The café was on the other side of the park, leaving Eunji confused how Jisoo and Minghao had ended up there. No matter what, she was just glad to see them. Even from the outside of the café she could already see them through the glass front, curled up on a bench, Minghao in Jisoo’s arms. 

She pushed the door open and instantly was surrounded by warmth. The café was cozy and inviting, but before she could even think about looking around she suddenly had her arms full of two trainees clutching her. 

“Oh, hon, sweetie”, she mumbled, holding them tightly. No matter that both of them were taller than her, they fit perfectly into her arms.

“Noona”, Minghao whimpered, burying his face in her neck, his breathing shaky. “I was scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, sweetie”, Eunji mumbled and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. She held him tightly, feeling the kid shake with what was more fear than cold now. God, she didn’t know what she would have done if she hadn’t been able to find them. Minghao was still so much of a kid right now, terrified again now that he was reminded that she hadn’t been there.

She turned her attention to Jisoo who had let go of her, now that he had made sure she was actually there. His eyes were shiny and before she could say anything the tears spilled over and he frantically apologized, his words a mix of Korean and English: “I’m sorry, noona. I’m so sorry. I … I didn’t … I thought I … I am so sorry.”

“Jisoo, hon”, Eunji said, smiling gently at him, “it’s okay. I’m here, you’re okay. Don’t worry.”

“I thought I knew the way but it looked so different in the …”, he gestured outside. His Korean lessons had not yet focused on weather. 

“Snow. It’s snowing outside”, Eunji said gently, slipping in a Korean lesson without even thinking about it, “I know. It’s okay. Come here.”

Jisoo clearly needed more comfort than the short hug he already had had. But he stayed rooted to the ground, his voice was shaking and tears were spilling over more violently over his cheeks, his body wracked with sobs. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. It’s all my fault, I … Minghao-yah, he was in danger because of me.” 

His words were probably more blunt than he had wanted to say but it was the only way he knew how to express what he thought. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, hon”, Eunji said, “really, you did your best. Come here, I know you want a hug.”

Jisoo stumbled forward and wrapped himself around her, seeking her comfort as much as Minghao did. Both of them obviously were pretty shaken up.

“You must be Eunji”, the same voice from the phone call said and Eunji looked up from her boys at an ajumma, leaning against the counter of the café. This must be their savior, Kim Jihye.

“I am”, she agreed, “thank you so much for calling. I was so worried about them. I never should have allowed them to go out in this weather.”

“They are teenagers”, Jihye said with a shrug, “you can’t keep them inside just because there is a bit of danger of snow. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Besides, they think the world of you”, a new voice entered the conversation, a woman who looked like a younger version of Jihye. “I’m Jiae. Jisoo told me a lot about you while we waited. The first thing he told me when I arrived to translate was that their noona would come as soon as she knew where they were. And you did. They knew you’d come for them.”

Jisoo blushed. Eunji couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.

“Well, you have been outside in the cold, too, looking for them”, Jihye said, mustering Eunji, “can I offer you a hot drink? Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”

When Jihye mentioned her time outside, Eunji couldn’t help but shiver. She was still a bit cold. “A tea would be lovely”, she admitted, “Minho, a fellow manager is coming to get up with the car but I think it will take a while in this weather.”

Jiae took her jacket and her scarf and soon Eunji was sitting on a bench in the café, Minghao and Jisoo both cuddled up to her sides. Minghao was already half asleep, their adventure taking its toll. Jisoo was yawning regularly and snuggled closer, taking advantage of the fact that he was on her right side and so could lean against her without hindering her ability to drink her tea.

“Thank you for coming for us, noona”, Jisoo finally mumbled into her ear, “I really was so scared. I knew you’d always come but outside in the snow with Minghao who was even more scared than I was … I’m really happy you’re our noona.”

Eunji couldn’t help the rush of emotions in her chest. “I’m happy you’re my boys too.”

Jisoo sighed and closed his eyes. Minghao’s only contribution to the conversation was a soft snore.

Next story: Food coma

[inotcat04]

Hello!This is my first post,I am honestly quite nervous and I am not sure if people would like my stuff but yeah!enjoy!Also credits to Family foe by @smol-vehvi! I really recommend you go and read it,it is soooo good!you can find it on archiveofourown.com!:)I hope you like it and if you don’t well…(pls tell me how to improve):)

What I think would happen in the hospital before Stan dies+Stan dieing

M:Mabel

S:Soos

Me:Melody

D:Dipper

P:Pacifica

Children:dipper and Pacifica children

St:Stan

M:Would have monitored that screen everytime she was there taking mental notes if she finds anything unusual to ask the doctor when he/she came back and ask a lot of questions about the lung donation and other stuff considering Stan and if he is getting better.It was always the same answers everytime she asked but she never gave up hope.She would never give up for Stan.Never.

S:Soos would cry everytime he saw Stan.(we all know Stan was like a father to Soos)he spend his time making him cards and showing them to him to try and comfort him and Stan.He would also tell Stan about the sales,scamming the residents of gravity falls and telling dad jokes to him to make him feel jollery.(Soos was convinced that if he told enough jokes and make him feel better it would cure him but he knew deep in his heart it would never happen)Well at least It always made him laugh.The laugh that will only be in memories now.

Me:always accompanied Soos to visit Stan and always comforted him whenever he just couldn’t take it any more.She didn’t show it there but sliently once Soos was done crying,she would sneak into the outside bathroom and break down in there.She is too scared to tell Soos this because then he would just start freaking out.Stan never knew this but she was very appreciative that Stan accepted and let Soos be his son whether or not they were relative.She would always be grateful for that.

D:would make cards for him with Pacifica and spend a bit of his money to decorate his room to make it seem more cheerful but he knew whatever he did to try and take off the gloomy feeling,the lingering feeling of death was still there.It was there and dipper could feel it and was ignoring it praying it was just the feeling of being at a hospital.Nothing could ever take it away,everyday dipper felt the feel go closer and closer toward Stan and him and he ignores it every time the feeling got closer and closer but he knew deep down it was coming soon and fast.

P: would make cards with dipper but most of them would be her apologing about her mistakes about calling him fat and ugly and all the bad things she did to him.Pacifica feels incredibly guilty and it is eating her alive but she would rather die than tel someone either than dipper.(Dipper is the only person she can really turn to a be vulnerable with because she doesn’t like to be seen to be as weak to people,she thinks that they would use it against her.)(tbh,reasonable)she just wished to open up to people without feeling judged.

W:would try to visit Stan everyday but mostly if the time would stay inside the bathroom and when she came out she wouldn’t look at Stan she would just hold his hand while looking at the floor.(She was taught by her father that crying was for the weak so she didn’t do infront of people,until one day.)

Children:when they heard about the 1000 paper cranes wish thingy,they started to make paper cranes everywhere determine to make it to a 1000 in time before it yk happens and to passed the time Stan helped out in making a few.He knew the paper cranes thingy was a hoax but who knows,it could be real.At that Stan was holding on to anything hope and all odds are usually in your favour when you are a world class gambler but for the first time,they weren’t.One time,one of the children need to use the bathroom which Wendy was using and she wondered why aunty Wendy was always inside it so she pressed her ear against the door and she heard sobbing coming form the other side.Aunty Wendy’s sobbing she suspected.(No one expect Stan had ever heard her cry or seen her cry before that’s why she wasn’t sure)Still to this day she hasn’t told anyone that she heard her crying for the first time.(she decided to keep it a secret for Aunty Wendy)

St:Stan never told anyone but he knew why Wendy was the only one who wasn’t crying when she came to visit and felt quite sad that she still had trouble opening up.He would tell her when it was time.

D-day:Everyone was gathered in Stan’s room and everyone could feel death coming slowly into the room,the children were off to the side and still folding the paper cranes hoping they could make it to 1000 before it came.Stan was on the bed next to Wendy who was day-dreaming a way.Dipper and Pacifica were slowly making new cards to show to grunkle Stan perfectly showing their childness coming out for the only time these few days.Everyone were still impatiently waiting for the doctor to come back.Mabel was staring at the computer where Stan’s heart beat was,complating and Soos was taking a nap on the couch as Melody watched her phone.Stan that day felt incredibly tired for some reason until it hit him like a sledgehammer,he was going to die.Suddenly along with that a wave of relief washed over him along with that same feeling of tiredness but he knew he wanted to do something before he died he wanted to say something to Wendy.He took his other hand and slowly put it on the had that was holding Wendy hand startling her.”Huh?!What happen Stan?”Wendy asked trying not to look him in the eye.Stan started mumbling to Wendy.”Wendy,do you know you are family and family never judge each other.You need to know this,let it go.Goodbye.”And with that,he took his last breath and his heart never beated again no matter what the doctor tried.

Kudos to you for making it to the end it was quite a long post ,sorry if I caused you any pain or anything.Thank you reading!Also if you don’t mind,leave a comment for me so I know if people actually like this and if you didn’t like it you can also put it down so I can improve.And yes ik my writing skills are bad.Well,Byebye.

[scnsualforalphas]

It shouldn't make sense or even be possible to both crave and fear change and growth in another person as much as Tommy realized he was when it came to Daimon. Not that he allowed himself to consciously wonder about their eventual reunion all too much during their years apart - too painful was the lingering chance that the day may never come - but of course he couldn't help but have his mind return to his alpha, his soulmate, his everything, and the inevitable question how their dynamic would work outside of the isolated and purely survival-oriented world of prison. Yes, he had secretly prayed for some level of necessary maturing from Daimon in dealing with the constraints and limits the real world would set on his ominpotence, though the level of self-control the other was showing so far was beyond what Tommy had dared to hope for. And yet, while it may not be his proudest thought, a part of the smaller blonde couldn't help but pray that the demon inside his man was not fully gone. As much as Daimon had scared him sometimes in the past, and as much as he had to be forced and trained into subservience in the beginning... He was craving the other with all his being, including the worst and darkest parts of Daimon. The most dangerous parts. The parts others might call a monster, wonder how a man could love a beast like that - and yet Tommy did. He craved his lover to own him, to take him, wanted nothing more than to serve him and be rewarded with pleasures beyond belief in return.

But if Daimon's previous unexpected acts of chivalry and romance had caused any worries in Tommy that the other had gone soft, he was thoroughly reassured of the opposite this very moment. In fact, parts of Daimon felt harder than ever before, his lover's monstrous length taking Tommy's breath away as it stretched his pussy open, driving deeper into his supple ass and making the blonde's head spin with the sheer sensation of the gigantic cock filling him up. Sure, he'd been fucked within an inch of his life just this morning, less than a day ago, but taking Daimon still felt like an impossibly tight fit. Tommy had learned long ago that it never became easy or entirely painless to take this beast of a cock, but nevertheless, his pussy was made for this monster, was made to be taken and owned and filled with Daimon's dick and seed. The thought of serving his purpose alone had the smaller male dizzy with lust, the stimulation of Daimon moving inside him completely sending his senses into overdrive and making it hard to put up any resistance to the mindgames his lover was playing. "N-No, I mean... Yes, Daddy... Yes... That too", he groaned in lustful frustration, that perfect cock making it hard to form proper thoughts let alone verbalize them. "I do want the world to know you're my Daddy", he whispered, breathlessly, against Daimon's lips, his eyes full of need and the pride that he could finally face the world with his soulmate by his side. "But f-fuck... fuck yes I want my Daddy to myself", he added with a blissful whimper, feeling his cheeks blush a little more. Those words were a confession more than anything; never would Tommy have dared to actually dictate the other should stay monogamous. Back behind bars, he'd tried his best not to think about that; whether Daimon had other bitches beside him or fucked men into submission as a display of dominance, Tommy didn't want to know or think about, and the possibility was an even harsher part of reality in this outside world.

If Daimon's cock wasn't enough to make the smaller man think he needed to cum right then and there, having the other force him to face the mirror clearly did the trick in making Tommy feel overwhelmed with lust. Seeing the pure ecstatic bliss of pleasure and submission reflected in his own eyes only pushed Tommy deeper into that headspace, all too willingly giving himself over to the beast that pounced him, ravaged him, owned him. Their passionate rut was animalistic and passionate at once, and the blonde was convinced it was the most erotic sight he'd ever witnessed, despite (or maybe in small part even because of) their surroundings. A cheap gas station bathroom wasn't exactly romantic or luxurious, but neither were they - they were raw, primal. They were real. And Tommy knew he belonged nowhere but right here, in Daimon's grip, back perfectly arched against the larger man's frame as his hands were pinned and his throat in Daimon's light chokehold, Tommy's body on fire with lust and shaking with the impact of each thrust. The other's growled promises were taken in with blissful moans, the sound of skin smacking against skin applauding each statement, Tommy's thick cheeks jiggling and sending vibrations through his body as his tight hole clenched around his lover's monstrous length, as if to silently motion just how much he needed to hear these words, how he would fall apart with despair if he ever had to go another day without Daimon, without his alpha's seed claiming him.

Demon had gone through a lot of change and growth, showing an unprecedented amount of maturity all in service of his eventual reunion with his soulmate. But some things never changed and him simply using the love of his life like a personal fuck-toy was one of those things. He remembered how he'd spent weeks training Tommy's body; how he got the other to submit sometimes from his smell alone- having smothered his face in his pits until the other almost passed out, having him chant who he belonged to. He felt the other's body soften and allow him to do as he pleased when he'd gotten his pants out of his way and positioned him exactly how he wanted him. There was an implicit trust and subservience there - Tommy's very being knew to give way to him, not only as his alpha and owner but he'd trained the smaller man's body to know that if it complied, it would experience unfathomable levels of pleasure.

"Mmm, I'm so fucking deep inside you, Angel," he growled softly, biting down gently, "I can feel your pussy stretching to take me," he said, his tone dripping with a cock arrogance and one could almost hear the wicked smile that his lips curled into as he said it. He had started pulsing his hips forwards and backwards, no creating too much motion just yet, more so like he wanted his cock to push as deep inside the other as physically possible in their current position. "No?" he questioned curiously, his tone turning teasing as he pulled his hips back a little bit more and began thrusting a little more widely into the other, "I thought you'd want people to know who your Daddy was," he taunted, clearly playing mind-games with the other - another old habit, "Or have you become jealous and you want your Daddy all to yourself?" Now moving his hand from tugging the other's hair to turning his face upward and over his shoulder, the much taller ex-convict kissed him hungrily, his tongue lapping over the other's lips as well as pushing past them, like an animal claiming his mate in the most primal way and moaning deeply enough that he was sure the vibrations would travel through most, if not all, of Tommy's smaller frame.

Fucking Angel now, it wasn't the rushed over-heated rhythm of earlier though it was equally as passionate. When they caught their breaths between kisses, he held Angel's head to force the other to watch him through the bathroom mirrors in front of them, to take in the sight of the giant monster that claimed him, making his entire body shudder with each powerful thrust. He watched as his Angel's face contorted into one of those expressions where it was clear he was overwhelmed with pleasure. They fucked like animals but only they understood how their connection actually brought one another a kind of peace and sanctuary. Something Demon hadn't ever experienced with anybody else before or since he and Angel had become cellmates that faithful day.

At some point, he'd gotten the other to bend further forwards, arching his back and pinning both of Angel's hands behind him as well, holding them in place in the dip of his perfect arch as he fucked him harder now, forcing the other's body to sway in reaction to the power of his thrusts, "I'm never letting another day go by where I don't fuck you," he growled, using one hand to pin the other's hands and the other reached forward to hold the other's throat in a light choke, "I'm never going another day without filling you with my seed," he continued before finally adding, in the heat of their rutting, "I'm never going another day without you."

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09

[puhpandas]

You Stress Me Out

(4,135 words)

Gregory shows up at Evan's house during a storm with a wood carving knife stuck in his stomach. It may not be that bad of a wound, but that doesn't mean having a knife sticking out of you is any less scary. Or that Evan will freak out any less.

warnings: blood, mentions of a fistfight, an unsafe home environment, stitches, and of course, a blade being stuck inside flesh

Evans incredibly on edge right now. Which, nothing new here. But this time, it's less of his normal state and more of a genuine, rational kind of edge.

First off; a storm is on it's way. Not only does a storm mean that outside is a no-go, meaning that Evan is trapped inside his house with no way to leave, but hes absolutely terrified of thunder.

Which is why as soon as he'd heard about the bad weather, when his fathers back was turned and Michael had been focusing on something other than messing with him, he'd snuck to the kitchen, grabbed all the snacks and water he could need, and took them to his hidden stash in his bedroom.

This way, he didnt have to leave his room. And he could do his old trick of blocking the door leading from the shortest route to his room with his dresser, which could give him enough time to shut Michael out if he decides to persist on the other side.

Unlockable doors. The bane of Evan's existence.

The other reason hes on edge isnt because of himself, even though his body is locked up and sense, waiting for the thunder to start booming outside and send him flying off of his bed from how hard he flinches. Its because of Gregory.

Evan's brows furrow from his place on his bed, curtains drawn, but just open enough to see the rain start so he can brace himself. He takes one look at the gray clouds and white sky and frowns deeply.

Evan knows all about his friends... situation. Honestly, after being friends for almost a year, you'd think he would have known sooner, but nope. Evan had just been giving Gregory the benefit of the doubt too much. when Gregory'd refuse to let Evan go to his house, he'd assume he had parents like his, who he didnt want Gregory to have to see either, which was why he had been asking. When Gregory would have new bruises and cuts and rips in his clothing the next time Evan would see him, he would deliberately choose not to pry, or wonder, because he would think maybe it was worse than he thought.

But Evan had figured it out eventually, and he'd understood why Gregory kept it from him so long. Evan wouldnt want Gregory to see him differently for being a certain way.

But like Gregory, Evan had made it clear he didnt. He understands, really. Like he understands that with the knowledge comes the worry.

Evan knows Gregory doesnt always have stable shelter. The city and it's people arent so kind to homeless people like Gregory, even when hes outside and theres about to be a hurricane. Which is why Evan is hoping, wishing, praying that Gregory will come to Evan, this time.

It's why he's reading a book, sitting on his bed next to his window instead of on his phone like usual. Evan's on edge because he cant stop thinking about what would happen to Gregory if he didn't come, and if he does, will Evan hear him to let him in.

Evans room is on the ground floor, which makes it very easy for Gregory to come and go as he pleases (also for Evan to make an escape when he needs to. It's not rare for Evan to ditch his room to flee to the city with Cassidy, sometimes).

Evan's eyes trail over the words on the pages, but he isnt taking them in. He huffs, letting the book drop to his lap, and tries to ignore how cold-but-on-fire his stomach feels. He can't focus. Not when Gregory's supposed to trust Evan enough to come to him when he needs help and he hasnt yet.

Evan only waits a while longer, foot tapping on the side of his comforter and fingers drumming. When the first few thick drops of water land on his window, he goes for his phone.

Gregory said to never call him unless it's important. But right now, with how much Evan's stomach swims with nausea over uncertainty about Gregory's safety, Evan thinks this is important enough.

Evan only has enough time to enter his fifteen digit pin and tap the phone app before the sound hes been waiting for rings out by his window.

Evan can feel his shoulders drop when the familiar jingle of a Fazbear song is knocked on his window. He smiles, hurrying over to his window and almost ripping the curtains off the wall with how fast he opens them.

When Evan reaches to open the window, Gregory's there, if not a bit weary, if his half lidded eyes and the cut on his cheekbone are any indication, but Evan doesnt worry too much. Just unclicking the locks on his window and helping Gregory step inside when its apparent he needs help.

He has a hand clutching at his stomach, which is worrying, but Gregory looks like hes okay. Not about to die, which is what Evan's thoughts always end up going to, so he thinks that's a good thing.

Evan shuts the window and locks it just as the rain starts to drop harder, and he shuts the curtains, sending a glance at his door (the one not covered up with a dresser) out of paranoia. When his father doesnt burst in and send Gregory away like Evan's imagining, he turns his attention back to Gregory.

Hes huffing, like he cant catch his breath, which makes Evan furrow his brows. Gregory's bent over, like when you have a stomach cramp and try to curl in on yourself as much as possible. If Evan looks hard enough, he can see the inklings of bruises on Gregory's knuckles.

Evan frowns. Okay, probably a fight, but it wouldnt be the first time he would have to pull out the first aid kit.

"Gregory." Evan catches his attention. Gregory's eyes dart up to him, and he offers a shaky smile. "Hey. You had me worried sick."

"Me too." Gregory says, but it sounds strained. He still has that hand pressed firmly over a spot on his stomach, and when he looks pained, Evan guides him over to his bed, letting him sit down. "I know you don't like thunder and stuff. A-And you'd be stuck with Michael.

Evan crosses his arms, trying to look stern but coming off as incredibly worried instead. "Gregory. You're acting weird." He points out. "Listen, I know you're hurt. You know I've seen you get into fights before. Can you just tell me what's wrong?"

Gregory, suspiciously, looks away, focused on one of Evan's toys hes had since he was younger that he never bothered to put away. "Um. I-I dont think this is like those times, though."

Well. If Gregory can be this difficult, he cant be feeling too bad. Doesnt do anything for the anxiety digging a hole in Evan's stomach, though. "No matter what it is, you need help, okay? I wont judge. Just let me patch you up."

Gregory doesnt respond for a moment, then, "Promise not to freak out."

"What?"

"Promise not to wig out." Gregory meets his eyes, looking pained. "This is gonna make you freak. I know it. Just... try to stay calm. It's not that bad, I swear."

"Just show me already!" Evan presses, getting jittery from nerves. "You saying that is already making me freak out!"

"Okay! Jeez." Gregory huffs, and takes a deep breath. "Just dont look at it too hard."

"Gregory!" Evan yells.

"Okay, okay!" Gregory says placatingly. He doesnt say anything else, just takes his hand off of his stomach like ripping off a bandaid.

Evan's eyes blow wide, and his legs turn cold. "Oh my god."

"There it is." Gregory sighs.

"Gregory." Evan says, just above a whisper, because he cant manage anything louder at that moment. He stares at Gregory's stomach, feeling a pit in his own stomach when he cant tear his eyes away. "Gregory!"

"I told you you'd freak out." Gregory mutters, like he doesnt have a literal knife sticking out of his flesh.

"Why would I not freak out?!" Evan whisper yells, because wow he does not need his father or Michael to walk in right now. He gestures wildly, trying to put all of his emotions I into the single movement. "You have a knife in you!"

Despite what Gregory said not to do, Evan looks hard at it anyway. It isnt super deep; it's one of those really tiny pocket knives, like what you would use to carve wood with. He can still see some of the blade sticking out, which means the inch and a half long blade isnt plundged very deep.

"I know." Gregory says. "Can you help me get it out?"

Evan gapes. "Help you--" He giggles maniacally. "Gregory, if I pull it out, I'll have no clue how to make it so you wont bleed out."

"Well," Gregory glances away. "I cant really go to the hospital, and I cant just leave it in." He says. "You're my best bet. Besides, I promise it isnt that bad. It could have been way worse. I dont need a hospital."

Wow. No pressure, or anything. Evan implodes, shaking his hands out and doing laps around the room. "I'm gonna have to pull a knife out of you."

"Okay. Stay calm, remember?" Gregory repeats, and when Evan's facing Gregory's direction again after another lap, he can see him wincing. "Look, I know you're wigging out, but I really dont want this knife to me stuck inside me anymore."

"I would assume so!" Evan hisses, coming to a stop in the middle of his room and wringing his hands through his sweater sleeves. "Gregory--"

"Okay, listen." Gregory sounds strained, and Evan takes a moment to pause, worry taking ahold of his stomach like a giant hand and squeezing. "You have a phone, don't you? I need you to Google what to do, and pull this stupid knife out of my stomach."

Evan gets queasy just thinking about it. "Gregory."

"I know." He says. "But, look. I'm not gonna be awake much longer, since I pretty much ran from the city to here while I was bleeding, and the guy who attacked me had already beat me up a bit before stabbing me."

Evan's heart seizes at that. He returns to Gregory's side, sitting down with him. "But, isnt it not good if you're unconscious--"

"I dont know." He interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "Look, I'm feeling kinda woozy, so I dont know how much longer I have left, but I'll try to stay awake."

Evan frowns. "You're acting like you're gonna die or something." He jokes, but his hand shake at the thought. "...Okay. Come here."

Gregory perks up, sitting up with great effort and putting an arm around Evan's neck when he gestures to. "We're doing this?"

"Yeah." Evan says shakily. He supports Gregory as he leads him lay down, pressed up against the wall, where if the door opened, hed be hidden behind it. Evan grabs a few of the towels he hides in his room to always have a clean one, -since he can never rely on laundry being done in his house-, and lays them under Gregory to soak up any blood. His father would kill Evan if he got the carpet stained with blood.

Evan grabs the first aid kit he always has hidden under his bed, and clicks it open, settling on his knees in front of Gregory's slack form on the floor with hovering hands as he glances at each of the kits contends uncertainly.

He grabs his phone, fingers trembling and pressing all the wrong buttons. Gregorys harsh breathing doesnt help.

"How did this even happen?" Evan asks as he desperately types in 'how to pull a wood carving knife out of your stomach at home' into the search bar. "Like-- I know you get into fights sometimes, but this?"

"Okay okay." Gregory coughs a bit. "Ill tell you. So, you know how it's about to storm?"

Evan glances at the crack through the curtains just enough to see the dark gray clouds swirling. "Yeah."

"So, I wasnt at my usual spot, but it was really close to starting to pour. And getting sick is like, the worst case scenario." Gregory says while Evan reads the random article he found at the speed of light. "So, I had to find some other place closer to where I was to wait out the storm, because I couldnt travel that far in the rain."

Evan pauses in reading, frowning and looking at Gregory's face. "You know you can always come here, right?"

Gregory frowns, looking away. "Yeah, but..." He trails off. "Its not fair to dump my problems on you like that."

Evan scoffs, breathing out a light chuckle. "Like you didnt dump your problems on me right now. And even then, I dont mind. I would much rather you come to me then be in pain somewhere else. Okay?"

Evan doesnt look at Gregory's face, too busy looking down at the article he has pulled up on his phone in his trembling hand, but he can tell hes smiling.

"Also, don't act like you don't make my problems your own, too. Im allowed to do the same as well, you know."

"Okay, okay." Gregory huffs. "I get it. I'll come to you right away next time. Happy?"

"Yes." Evan says, and he really is. Knowing that Gregory is sure to come to Evan when the weather gets bad, or something happens that makes the city unsafe, Evan will be able to sleep soundly knowing Gregory will either be safe with him, or he will be if need be. "You never finished telling me how you ended up with a pocket knife stuck in you, though."

"Right." Gregory chuckles. "So, I find this kind of hidden away spot, right? And I'm thinking I got really lucky, and set my stuff down. But then this other older kid shows up, and its obvious hes like me. But he gets really mad that I'm in his spot and starts yelling at me to get out."

"Jerk." Evan says, pulling the things he needs out of the first aid kit. "You should help eachother out, not fight. I'm sure he could have lended you some space."

"I'm sure you would have." Gregory chuckles. "But anyway, I'm packing up my stuff to leave, because this guy hurting me is a bigger concern than the weather at this point, and I dont want to mess with him."

Evan nods along, and goes to begin, but pauses when the first step is to take out the knife. Nausea curls in his gut, and he winces, glancing at Gregory.

"Hey." He cuts Gregory off in his story, and tries to look as apologetic as possible. "I, um. Have to take the knife out."

Gregory's eyes blow wide, and he frowns. "Oh."

Evan fidgets, having no idea how to make this better for Gregory. "Do you want me to count to three, or...?"

"Just do it." Gregory puts that steely exterior on. "I can handle it. Just do what you need to do."

Evan feels awful; this must suck for Gregory. Even if the knife is small and not very deep, having something sharp ripped out of your flesh cant be fun. "If you're sure."

He props himself on his knees, getting as close to Gregory as possible, and wraps a hand firmly around the small handle of the wood carving knife.

He can see it in Gregory's eyes. Neither of them want to do this.

"Keep telling your story." Evan says softly. Maybe itll distract Gregory from it, even a little bit. And Evan, as well. He can already feel bile working it's way up his throat at the thought.

Gregory nods minutely, jaw locked and tense. He breathes out a bit. "...Kay. So, I'm trying to tell him that I'll leave if he let's me get my stuff, but hes really impatient, and when I dont leave right away, he tries to scare me away faster by beating me."

Evan winces, pointedly twisting his neck away from the knife, as he tightens his grip, anticipation sending lightning through his veins. "That explains the bruises." He says shakily.

Gregory pauses, waiting for something that doesn't come. "...Yeah. He uh, he got me pretty good... but he didnt leave unscathed either. But, I think I got it worse."

"Definitely." Evan agrees ghastily, his stomach rolling when he feels the cold handle of the knife pressing idents in his skin. "Keep going."

Gregory gives him a look, but continues. "...So when I start fighting back, even though I'm smaller, he took that as a bad thing, apparently, and wanted me gone so he didnt get hurt. So what does he do?"

Evan doesn't respond, just squeezing his eyes shut, biting his tongue, and ripping off the bandaid.

Evan rips the knife out with a quick flick of his shoulder, and gags when it makes a fleeting metal-on-flesh sound as its removed. Gregory lurches lightly next to him, making a garbled, suprised sound, and when it's over, just lays flat on the floor.

"G-God." Gregory coughs, stuttering. "Okay, that wasnt that bad. I guess."

"I'm sorry." Evan frets, flinching and dropping the knife on the towel when some of Gregory's blood drips down his fingers. "I'm sorry, Gregory."

"You didnt do it." Gregory chuckles, his face white as a sheet. He brings up an arm to clutch at a spot just above the wound on his chest. "Jesus."

"I'll fix you up." Evan says softly, setting a hand on Gregory's own and taking it away just as quickly when he rushes to go wash his hands. "Okay? It might hurt, but you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"...Kay." Is all Gregory says, and Evan rushes faster when he just let's his head fall against the floor.

When Evan comes back, he all but dives onto the floor, grabbing the things he layed out on the carpet and beginning. "Gregory, hey!"

"What?" Gregory asks, and Evan sinks in relief when hes still awake. He rolls up Gregory's shirt, inspecting the wound, and he finds it looks more like just a deep cut than anything. "I know you're trying to stay awake, but I'm probably gonna have to find a way to close this cut, so you might want to go ahead and go to sleep."

Gregory pales. "Like, stitches?"

"Probably." Evan shudders. A wave of sickness washes over his body when he realizes hes probably gonna have to find a needle and thread, and stitch Gregory's flesh closed, even if the cut is only an inch or so long. "Better safe than sorry. And I really dont think having a wood carving knife stabbed into you, even if it wasnt that deep, is okay to just put a bandaid over."

"...Alright." Gregory sighs, and his head rolls against the floor, his body relaxing. "I don't want to be awake for that."

"Me neither." Evan huffs, and Gregory breathes the air of a laugh through his nose. "But I think you'll be okay. Just sleep, and you'll be patched up when you wake up."

Gregory sighs a deep sigh, and Evan thinks it sounds like deep relief just settled. "Okay. Thank you, Evan."

"Of course." Evan replies, and when Gregory shuts his eyes and no doubt falls asleep pretty quick, Evan glances around his room, and realizes hes gonna have to go on a scavenger hunt for a needle and thread.

He sighs, hoping and wishing that he wont run into his father or Michael when he has to venture out of the safety of his room, but he relaxes at the moment, taking in a deep breath and reaching for some supplies.

First, he has to clean the wound.

🐻

When Gregory creaks his eyes open, it's not to Evan's carpeted floor like he had expected. Well, he is on the floor, he finds when he finally takes in his surroundings. But he isnt laying down completely. Some pillows and blankets have been posed and laid around him, like a nest, and Evan is sitting next to him in the middle, scrolling and watching something on his phone.

Gregory twists his neck and puts pressure in his arm, trying to prop himself up. He yawns, and Evan startles, taking out the crappy Walmart earbuds he'd bought. "Gregory!"

"Hi." Gregory groans, feeling the effects of his fistfight and intense sprint take hold, his body groaning and aching with soreness at his movement. He feels warm; which is something he wasnt expecting when he'd initially thought he'd spend the span of the storm outside in it. "Ugh."

Evan shuts his phone off lays it and his earbuds on the blanket, twisting his torso and shimmying in his spot laying against a pillow against the wall and legs covered with a throw blanket to face him. "You probably dont feel too good."

"Like crap." Gregory agrees. When he shifts again, back and head cushioned against two pillows without cases on them, he can feel the sore sort of throbbing pain of whatever stitches Evan had sewn in him. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, feeling guilty on Evan's behalf. "But... the stitches feel secure. I'm sorry you had to do that, it must have sucked really hard."

"It did." Evan shudders, but chuckles at the same time. "You know, I had to go in my Moms room to get the needle and thread and steal the pills from my Dad."

Gregory quirks a brow. "What pills?" He asks at the same time Evan hands him a small bottle of Advil. "Oh."

Evan hands him some snacks, too. A water bottle and some crackers. He smiles softly and takes them, taking two Advil with a swig of the water bottle. "You did all that for me?" Gregory asks, voice small. "...I know you hate your Dad, and your parents would get mad at you if they saw you snooping."

"I know." Evan says, fidgeting with one of the blankets and laying his head on the pillow propped against the wall. "But I wanted you to feel better more than I was scared of my parents."

Theres a short stretch of silence after that, only the harsh rain and wind against the house being heard. Gregory stays silent, turning over Evan's words in his head.

His eyes burn slightly, but he pushes it down with precise practice. "Thank you" Is all he can find in him to say. Theres too many feelings, too many emotions he has to put them into words.

But Evan knows him, and Gregory knows he understands when he nods, and smiles that small, kind smile that just screams 'and I'd do it again'. "Of course." Evan insists, and looks away for a moment. "I want you to trust me, okay? I want to show you that if you come to me because you need help, I'll be here, and I wont discount you, or-- or shrug you off."

Gregory doesn't smile, but he feels warmth spread through his chest at that. Gregory knows Evan, so he knows exactly why he would want Gregory to feel that way. He knows exactly why Evan holds himself to that, even though Gregorys confident a lot of it has to do with just the kindness in Evan's own heart.

"I-I know." Gregory whispers. "I came here because I do trust you. I came here because I know that."

It's really hard for Gregory to say that, and he knows Evan understands, because he doesnt comment, just nods, relief sagging his shoulders.

Theres a short burst of silence for a moment, the two of them just soaking up the atmosphere of being warm and comfortable, despite the circumstances.

"You're staying here, by the way." Evan's voice rips him out of his thoughts suddenly, and Gregory snaps to attention to see Evan looking at him sternly, but worriedly. "I know you're gonna try to say something stupid about how you're fine to go back into the rain. You arent going anywhere near the city, alright? I don't care if the storm lasts a week. I'll find a way to hide you so Michael or my father dont find you, okay?"

Gregory snorts at Evan's intense voice, but his heart bursts all the same. "Okay, Evan. I promise."

"Good." Evan sounds appeased. He twists his body, reaching for something, and grabs his phone, putting one earbud in and giving Gregory the other. He opens YouTube, handing the phone to Gregory. "You can pick. Honor of the patient."

Gregory grins, giggling. "Thanks, Doctor Evan."

ao3 link

[loganhowlettshousewife]

logan howlett x disabled!reader with chronic pain (not specified)

series masterlist - my masterlist

you should have known better than to go on the mission yesterday, but there’s nothing you hate more than feeling weak and patronised. charles had told you to sit it out if you were in pain, and you’d snapped back that you could handle missions just as well as any other x-man which, while true, doesn’t mean you should push yourself past your limits.

you can’t even get out of bed, every small movement making you whimper and groan as pain shoots through you, unforgiving. after so long dealing with chronic pain, you sometimes think you should be used to it, but no matter how many years go by and how many flares you experience, it never gets any easier.

logan’s upset with you, huffy and fussing, repeating over and over how you should have listened to charles, how the professor only wants what’s best for you, and telling you that it’s idiotic to let your pride take over. he’s being hypocritical, but you know it’s only because he hates to see you this way, hates to see you vulnerable, worries that one day something will happen and the x-mansion will be attacked and you’ll be in too much pain to effectively defend yourself.

so you let him take care of you, because you know it makes him feel better. it allows him a modicum of control over an uncontrollable situation. he, unlike you, has not yet given up on the idea of finding methods to lessen your chronic pain.

he helps you take your medication, brings you food and water, goes so far as to feed you so that you don’t even have to shift your body in case it’s too much. he waits by your side until the drugs kick in, refusing to leave until you tell him to go.

he asks jean to check in on you, asks if there’s anything she can do with all of her medical knowledge - the answer is no, there is no cure to a condition like yours, only techniques to lessen the pain temporarily. he searches for the few mutants in the mansion with healing abilities and practically begs them for help; it’s the only time he lets anyone see him vulnerable, because he hates to see you in pain and would do anything to bring your usual smile back to your face.

you groan in annoyance when he returns to your room with a slightly scared-looking teenager that you vaguely remember teaching last year, but she takes some of your pain away and so you thank the kid. she blushes and whispers “you’re welcome” before skittering out the room, and you’re now able to move enough to turn towards logan with your arms crossed over your chest, an unimpressed stare leveled at his face.

“she asked to help!” he protests, “he overheard me talking to jean about your pain and she offered. i didn’t force her to do anything.”

you sigh. chronic pain can’t be healed even with mutant abilities, you’ve tried it all before. it can take away the worst of it in the same way that some medication can, help with the inflammation that comes with a flare up, bring it down to manageable levels. but you’ll never be free of this burden.

“come here,” you say, and he does, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to give you anything and everything you desire. it’s ridiculous and you laugh, the first real smile you’ve shown all day, now that every breath no longer feels like a battle not to cry out in pain.

you stay in bed the rest of the day. it’s better to take it easy for a while than to risk anything. and logan stays with you, massaging at your muscles until they relax under his strong grip, leaving only to bring you more meals and your medication. he kisses you every time you complain that he surely has better things to be doing, covering your mouth with his large palm as he reminds you that you’re the most important thing to him now.

main taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

[sheathnknife]

the vampire diaries 8.16 // louise gluck, crossroads

“and damon, like the voiceover tell us, he was worried he would never see stefan again. it was just elena assuring him that there would be peace. that we’ve dealt with this other side of darkness for several seasons, but there’s also light out there and there’s peace, and damon will find it. if you search for it, you will find it. and we wanted to get that last moment to see that [...] damon found it too, and it looked just like his brother.” — kevin williamson