#and are so very clearly fond of each other

[callsign-rogueone]

intimacy alphabet - x.r.

Xaden Riorson x reader [request] words: 1.8k 🏷: NSFW. very mild iron flame spoilers but nothing really plot-related. one singular mention of reader being a woman but other than that I think this is pretty much gender and sex neutral? mentions of soft dom/sub dynamics, oral both ways, penetrative sex, mild kink, Xaden experiences Feelings, mentions of fwb relationship but also established romantic relationship or random hookups. this one was easy, as he's the only boy we have textual evidence for lmao. enjoy.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

standard aftercare and cleanup. if he’s your romantic partner, then it’ll be a bit better / more involved / cuddlier, but either way he’s making sure you’re okay, that you’re satisfied, etc. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he’s not a very vain guy in my opinion, but I can see him being body-confident and proud of his physique; he’s worked hard for it. maybe his hands/arms? I think he’d have a complex relationship with the relic, but other than that, he likes the muscle he has there. maybe his abs, too, since he’s somehow always shirtless.

anything that makes you unique and you; freckles, tattoos, unusual hair color, birthmarks… but also your ass. loves seeing you in tight pants or short shorts, seeing you bend over for any reason, having you sit on his lap, finding any excuse to touch you there / on your hips, sticks his hands in your back pockets, gives you a little pat/squeeze as a ‘good job’ or a hello, etc…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

no strong opinions about where he does it -- it’s you who has to deal with it, so he generally lets you choose, but he not-so-secretly really likes it when you swallow. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

this is a difficult one. the man is full of secrets, but I can’t think of any sexy ones. I think he’d be very clear and upfront about what he wants and just do it with you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s hot, he’s rich, he’s confident; this isn’t his first rodeo. he knows what he’s doing and he’ll figure out what you like in particular very quickly; he’s remarkably perceptive and knows to respond to your responses, repeating the things that made you gasp and moan and squirm. knows the difference between faster / harder / etc., too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he’s clearly fond of using furniture other than a bed — pressing you up against the wall, bending you over a desk, and so on and so forth. after you scratched the shit out of the top of his desk with your nails, you made a comment about how you should just fuck on the floor so you don’t break anything else or ruin it forever, and he called your bluff right then and there.

as far as actual positions, anything goes; he’s a man of many talents. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

pretty serious; he’ll make little teasing or sarcastic comments but that’s it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s doing some routine maintenance. also, I don’t recall a single mention of him having any body hair besides a beard / scruff he let grow out in iron flame. is bro just hairless? lmao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I feel like I’m qualifying every point here with if you’re in a relationship / if you’re not (I’m writing this out of order lol) but he can be very tender and loving and intimate if the mood is right and he’s truly comfortable with you. if you’re not in a relationship and he doesn’t have a real bond with you, like you aren’t friends or anything either, expect it to be pretty… businesslike sounds bad, but.. transactional, maybe, each of you getting what you need out of the interaction (release) and not much else.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

here, have a scenario I don’t have time to actually write: fwb!Xaden realizes he’s catching feelings and pulls back a little bit, shifts from seeing you two or three times a week to just once to try to wean himself off of it, but it’s too late, he’s addicted to you already. he tries to stay strong and commit to his decision, taking matters into his own hand(s) instead, but it’s just not as good. like, you’ve ruined jerking off for him forever. 

he tells you as much the next time he sees you, when he slides into you and has to use every ounce of his self control not to cum right then and there, because absence makes the heart grow fonder -- and insert dick pun here. slow and loving sex ensues, because he’s trying not to bust too early, but also because he realizes how important you are to him, and holy shit, he’s in love. you had to talk about your feelings with him afterward because it had the same effect on you, and you wanted to be done playing emotional chicken with him and just love him the way you have for months now but out loud and outside your room. ~fin~

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I always end up putting things here that aren’t actually kinks lmao but here: he’s a natural leader / commanding person, in charge and running point on things, and that extends into the bedroom. the pleasure is mutual, but he’s very much in control and dominant 95+% of the time. even when he’s the one on his knees, he’s setting the pace and the vibe.

also probably not a kink but eye contact. looking into those deep dark eyes and drowning in them as he takes you apart… yeah.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your room, his room, the showers, the assembly room… his house is a fucking castle-fortress-hybrid, and it’s ginormous. there’s plenty of rooms for you to christen or little nooks and crannies for him to tug you into and hide you both with his shadows while he gets to it. I don’t think he’s a full-on exhibitionist, but he likes variety.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you be a capable badass woman, seeing you in his bed in the mornings… and typical guy turn ons. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I know I’ve been saying this for all of the boys, but I don’t think he’d want to hurt you in any way or threaten you with pain. (I never know what to say for this one lol) 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

we know he likes both, and that he’s very good at giving. I’ll also say that the “subbiest” he’ll ever get is when you have your mouth on him like that, and he can just lay back and lose his mind. it’s fun to watch his abs flex and his breathing pick up as he starts to slip and let the pleasure take over / let his mind turn off. makes the prettiest sound when he cums down your throat <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

we know he can do both and do them well. he knows there’s a time and place for each — fast and rough when you’ve been a brat, and he needs to remind you who’s in charge, soft and slow when you’ve had a long day or one of you is feeling a little fragile.  

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’s not averse to them, but he’d rather take his time with you. and what is supposed to be a quickie turns into a regular session most times anyway. if you’re not in an established relationship, then I think it would be a quickie most times -- he’s giving you both what you need and dipping, no time for feelings.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes. he is absolutely down to try new things, new places, spur of the moment stuff once he’s comfortable with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

very physically fit guy. all of the riders are. it’s a question of how long you can last. but even if the rounds are short, they’re intense, because everything about Xaden is intense. one or two is usually enough to satisfy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

let’s consider his shadows as toys, because why not. he’s absolutely not afraid to use them, with your permission, of course. (everything is always with your permission, and don’t bother lying to him because he’ll know.)

but yes. he’s using them as restraints sometimes, to hold you in whatever position he wants you in while he works, or as a form of temperature play (they’re cold), to tease you, running them over your body instead of touching you himself, which he knows is what you really want…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

loves teasing, loves reducing his strong, stubborn partner into a soft little wet mess who will do anything he asks because they just need his cock that bad. after teasing you all day / for an hour / whatever, with little touches or shadows brushing your skin, or just some sweet kisses that have you wanting more, he’ll proceed to tease you verbally, about how needy you are — but he loves it. and he’ll always give you what you need, eventually.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s not too loud himself, just some panting and groans and some profane words about how good you feel wrapped around him, etc., but he wants you to be loud. he’s putting up a sound shield every time, so you better not try to hold back those cute little whimpers and cries, or there will be (sexy) consequences. he wants to hear  how good he’s making you feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

once, during a particularly intense round of him experiencing Sgaeyl’s ~emotions~, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about breeding you. neither of you are sure if that was the dragon‘s influence, or what, but you haven’t spoken of it again and don’t plan to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

we already know. Calvin Klein model with the world's most perfect dick, sexy magical tattoos… a whole man. 🫡

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think there’s a difference between how often he wants sex and how often you actually have sex. we’ve seen that he has remarkable self restraint, and that he’ll only make moves when he knows you’re truly ready. so while he’s ready to do whatever at the drop of a hat, he’s going to hold back a bit and wait. but when the wait’s over… whew.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if he feels safe with you (not just trusting you won’t kill him, but like. actually safe and okay being vulnerable with you) then pretty quickly after showers, aftercare, etc. otherwise, he’s probably not sticking around, sorry 🤕

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #18+ #mine

[faerune]

honestly sympathy to all the anarchs who have to live with nines and valentina “””disliking each other””” (read: flirting through thinly veiled banter, allying with each other and coming to each other’s aid when they need it most)

#valentina is just a flirty person and loves to torment nines #and there's the distrust there with how closely she worked with the camarilla (no matter how she claims she was doing it to get a leg up #/save herself/etc) #prior to doing a whiplash inducing turn and pledging anarch at the end of vtmb #because she keeps her true allegiances and goals so mfin close to her chest #they're still the ones who ally together first and approach the other anarch barons to figure out how #to face the kue-jin and second inquisition threats #and also vanevar down in san diego #so they do a LOT of work together and end up working really well together #and are so very clearly fond of each other #and they tease each other and compete and val flirts and pokes at him #and nines starts to bite back a little and val is like #OH HMMM i like him #emily.txt #ship: suck my kiss

[winepresswrath]

congratulations i've never been a fan of sangcheng mostly bc i TRIED but i'm not really interested in their early days dynamic and post-canon i find it hard to believe it could ever happen. but the weird messy version which may or may not lead to wwx-jc reconciliation but imo cannot end happily if jc finds out about the whole jin ling thing IS interesting to me!! Actually I think I only like this if it doesn't work out between jc and nhs so I don't think I can call myself a sangcheng shipper now if I only want mess and an unhappy ending but you know. i'd read a fic about them now if this specific one existed!

In theory I'd be down for either, but I always manage to trick myself into wanting a happy ending by the end of a fic I'm really enjoying. I think they're both really exhausted post-canon and in most universes they just avoid each other but there's one or two where Nie Huaisang tricks Jiang Cheng into doing his homework, which makes Jiang Cheng feel needed, and dangles him in front of Wei Wuxian for sport, which makes Jiang Cheng feel wanted, and they're the only two major sect leaders who are both adults and not in seclusion so I can see them getting stuck eating lunch together enough for Nie Huaisang to develop ideas.

#the jl thing is a real sticking point it's very possible this all ends in hysterical tears and what would be a diplomatic incident if anyone #involved had the energy for that #early days they're just both here for wwx and really only hang our alone when he ditches them for lwj #however!!! i think they are genuinely fond enough of each other #like they might not have hung out without wwx but now that they're here they're having fun with it #especially again in cql they clearly genuinely care about each other #nhs is throwing that party for both of them! jc huffily throws nhs out of the room so he can't see him cry. it's cute

[recycledraccoon]

Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.

I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.

(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)

You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.

You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.

(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)

You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.

You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.

(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)

The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.

(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)

The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.

You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.

The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.

You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.

(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)

You see each other in class sometimes.

You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.

Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.

(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)

She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.

Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.

(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)

They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.

It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.

She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.

(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)

#adaine abernant #oisin hakinvar #dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #inkblade

[midascrow]

Great Minds Think Alike

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

synopsis: Alastor is jealous of his own shadow.

a/n: The reader is portrayed as being pretty smart and into science and stuff. I like the idea of Alastor being fond a character who’s pretty intelligent, he finds them fascinating and likes seeing how they tick. Also this might be a little rushed I apologize in advanced!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Alastors shadow is a traitor and a fake.

That’s what the man himself believes anyway, whilst he watches HIS shadow flutter around you, a wide smile trying far too hard to appear innocent on its face, as it helps you reach an especially high set stack of papers.

“Oh! Thank you so much…” Your sweet, melodic voice trailed off into an unsure note, not quite aware of how you should address the shadow that’s…ears(?) Twitched and wiggled, eyes(??) squinting back at you as it danced across the walls.

The radio demon wasn’t the least bit sure what had caused his shadows sudden bout of rebel, or why it had seem to take a special interest in you of all people.

Not that there was anything wrong or displeasing about you. Actually it was quite the contrary. Alastor found your company to be far more pleasant than most of the hotels staff and inhabitants.

You were awfully kind for a sinner. And not quite in the same realm of naivety that was the princess’s kindness.

You were smart. Clearly. Always aware of what went on around you and the neighboring spaces. Hardly had you been known to be caught off guard by the entrance of another, nor had you ever bumped into any of the sinners contrary to how the group seemed to enjoy clumping around each other in the foyer during special…”redemption” activities.

You were even so aware as to avoid any touch with the inhabitants of the hotel, including Alastor himself.

And while he wasn’t a very large fan of touch himself, even finding that he could appreciate your aversion to it, the demon couldn’t help feeling a little displeased by the lack of power it left him with when you evaded his touches so expertly.

Always stepping just slightly to the side when his hand attempted to connect with your shoulder. Head craning back, just quickly enough to appear natural when he made and effort pinch your cheeks condescendingly.

Frankly..it was frustrating.

And despite all that, despite all your evasions of the radio demon….here you were, practically-!-canoodling with his own shadow!!

“Oh..! You’re so sweet..” Red ears flopped and twitched, while his eyes narrowed. Alastor could not believe he was being made to watch this…disgusting display of treason.

You giggled softly, hand brushing along an invisible form, as the shadow curled around your own. You watched with a smile as your shadowed hand fell into the hair of the deers, only to gasp when met with the soft sensation of hair beneath your finger tips.

“Oh my…so you’re tangible..?” The shadow nodded vigorously, bumping its head into your palm before grabbing your wrist and laying a gentle kiss to your hand. With that smug fucking grin.

A static screech echoed in the parlour, turning the heads of the incoming dwellers, prompting them to gap at the twitching and seething demon.

And oh, was he seething.

You were far too curious for your own good frankly. So eager to dissect and experiment in what ever had caught your eye. Magic, contracts, demons, anything you could possibly find you wanted to study.

And Alastor was known to be one of the more enthusiastic individuals who indulged in your fascination. Encouraged it even.

Angel had often joked about the way he seemed to preen and puff up in pride whenever he dropped a newly disembodied sinners corpse at your feet, seemingly delighted in your ecstatic gasp of approval.

Which was…another thing. Redemption. Did you want to be redeemed? You’d hardly spoke of it. Sure, you participated in the trust exercised that the princess set up, but nearly everyone had to regardless. Perhaps you were too fascinated with the underworld to truly even think about the idea of redemption.

Alastor himself knew he wouldn’t, nor could he ever be redeemed. And frankly, the idea of you being thrown up to those pearly gates made his insides squirm in the most horrible way.

But that’s not something he wanted to ponder on right now. Not as he practically teleported to your side, shooting his shadow a sneer that it had the nerve to return, as he bent slightly over your shoulder. “My dear! What is it that has currently caught your eye this fine evening?”

When your eyes snapped to his own, he could practically feel the static buzz around him pleasantly, a smug shine in his eyes having successfully stolen your attention from that accursed shadow.

“Alastor! I was just…uh..chatting I suppose with your shadow! He’s been very helpful today. Did you send him?”

No-“Why yes! I did my dear. I figured it wouldn’t help to lend you a helping hand this night, after all you’ve been such a joy around the hotel since your arrival!”

The shadow swished and darted around, vigorously shaking its heads and hands in a way to catch your attention, but a small tap of alastors can to the floor sent it dissipating back to his feet with a displeased hiss.

“I simply could not stop myself from assisting the lovely little sinner that had come into the arms of our sweet little hotel.”

His smile twitched and stretched at the sight of your shiny flattered gaze, that darted across his face with the same awe you exuded when coming upon a new bit of information you had to uncover. A new mystery.

Perhaps Angel had a point. Prior to before…he could feel the way his back straightened..the way his ears stood tall and proud, and the tail of his coat shifted just slightly. The Radio Demon could not deny the pride that fluttered into his dead heart and seeped into his flesh.

Even as he hummed about a new species of sinner he had stumbled upon. Even as he watched with somewhat softer eyes as you gasped and leaned just the slightest bit into his space, eyes alight with interest. Even as his dark shadow like tentacles darted beneath his feet and out the door, in search of a new test subject to grab- just for you.

Even as his hand touched the dip between your shoulders blades, when he led you towards his room for a refreshing lunch before your next scientific session.

Alastor could not deny,

He and his shadow were one and the same.



#hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastors shadow #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

[dearly-somber]

hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh

-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)

-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1101

-> warnings. None!

-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.

-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list

-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51

-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40

-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40

-> divider credit. @plum98

“Eomoni!”

“Y/N, darling, come in!”

Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.

“I hope I’m not intruding—?”

“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.

“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”

“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.

“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.

You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”

Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”

“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.

“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”

“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.

Mreow?

“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.

You smile.

“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.

You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.

You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.

You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.

And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.

You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.

You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.

“Jagi?” he mumbles.

“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.

“Mmm.”

You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”

“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.

“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.

“A few hours ago…”

“From practice?”

He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”

He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.

You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.

Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.

“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.

“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”

You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“

“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”

———

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“

Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:

Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.

As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.

#skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #lee minho scenarios #lee minho fic #lee minho imagines #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #ao3 #archive of our own #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut

[scoops-stevie-archive]

@steddieas-shegoes :)

the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.

the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.

none of that happens.

gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.

it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.

they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.

in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.

there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.

people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.

"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"

they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.

they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.

and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.

the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.

it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.

it answers all and none of everyone's questions.

#cj talks #this sort of ran away from me lmao #steddie #corroded coffin

[erwinsvow]

𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐬

summary: aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

word count: 7.1k

author's note: bau!reader + hotch is my favorite combo ever. i haven't written and posted in, like, two years so please be nice :) i've written so many other versions of hotch but this one just wrote itself. inspired by the amazing @luveline and so many breathtaking hotch stories and isabel (alisdas on ao3, not on here anymore i think :( ) who wrote of terrible coffee and late-night rides which i think started all of this and my immense aaron brain rot when i read that fic, like, three years ago. enjoy!

This was wrong, Aaron thought to himself. He seldom committed acts that others might say were wrong, or argue they could potentially be wrong, but this was different. Aaron felt wrong, a feeling he was not used to.

“I’m worried about you, that’s all,” you had said quietly on the jet early one morning. You two were sitting across from each other on the flight back from the team’s latest solved case, an excruciating long ride home from the coast of Oregon.

Your book laid open on your lap, unread and a bookmark tucked between the earlier pages. The spine was cracked, like you’d read it a hundred times before. He knew that wasn’t true though, it was just a used novel probably from the thrift store around the corner of your apartment.

You had told him once, back when you first started—back when he was still married and you were less affected by this job—that you liked finding used (pre-loved, you call it) books and picking the most worn out ones to take home. You said it means that someone used to love this book.

It felt wrong because you were too young for him, and too innocent to be mixed up in his life. What could you know about his thoughts? About the love of his life that divorced him and his son he only sees once in a while.

The rest of the team makes jokes with you, in particular JJ and Penelope. He’s even heard Emily pitch in, about your not-so-secret fondness for your boss. For him. 

Back when you had first started, it was nothing. Passing glances, working extra hard to please him and earn his praise—which was never given out generously. He hadn’t even taken the time to notice, never paid more attention than any other member of the team. What he did notice was your work ethic.

Being among the youngest of the team had instilled a drive in you to prove your worth. You always stayed an hour extra, came early, and spent  nights working the case even when you were yawning every few minutes. The most attention he’d given you back then was commenting that you’d had a good insight into the unsub, commending you on well-written reports and briefs, and offering you a cup of coffee when it was just you and him left in the sheriff’s office. He’d be rereading seemingly endless pages of the case reports and you’d be diving headfirst into the victim’s lives.

Your specialty was always understanding why the victims did what they did, figuring out their routines and ascertaining important details from their personal belongings. He was used to you flicking through diaries and boxes of mementos that were once treasured by another young girl, not so much older than yourself. 

He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought it was impacting you—reading through the journals of dead women who had been very similar to yourself, with similar hopes and dreams. It was depressing, he knew, and yet if you were bothered by it, you didn’t show it in the slightest. At least not to him. 

And back then, he’d never notice the sweet smile that always graced your face when he was asking you if you’d like coffee. You’d shake your head no, and take sips of water between your yawns. You didn’t even tell him that you don’t drink coffee until a few months later, after he asked if you’d ever like a cup when he offered. He can remember it clearly even now.

“Actually, Hotch, I don’t drink coffee.” Your cheeks were tinged with color like you were embarrassed to even be admitting this to him.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? I would have stopped asking three months ago.” If he sounded stern, he didn't mean to. The burning on your face deepened.

“I didn’t want to be rude. I drink tea though, but I didn’t think to mention it. It’s not as easy to make.”

“Well, let me know if you need a cup of hot water then.”

You had smiled at that, and he had turned around to take another picture on the bulletin board. He smiled a little too.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, maybe a little too gruffly. He didn’t mean it, again, but it just came out that way. He thinks some part of him is trying to warn you to stay away before you get too close.

“We’re all worried. You went through something really big and didn’t tell any of us and even if you don’t care about us like that, I care about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

Aaron’s gaze casts around the rest of the jet.  Derek has his headphones in, staring out the window and trying to resist sleep. JJ and Emily are playing cards—they should be sleeping, but they had a little too much espresso a few hours before. They’re too far away to hear you and Aaron speaking, but he notices JJ’s eyes darting over every once in a while. Spence is asleep, and he realizes that’s why it’s so quiet. Dave is reading a book, too, but he’ll stop and interject into JJ and Emily’s conversation.

He looks back at you, sleepy-eyed and wrapped in a warm, boxy pullover from your alma mater. He thinks a little bit too much about you these days, and he can’t get it to stop. He shouldn’t profile anyone on the team, they have a strict moratorium on that, but especially not you.

You, who never fails to try to make anyone feel better when they’re down. You, who doesn’t make it seem like you’re analyzing their behavior, but rather observing and offering comfort in hard times. You remember everything the team tells you about their likes and dislikes, never forgetting a birthday or special occasion. He can distinctly recall fresh chocolate chip cookies on Derek’s birthday, carrot cake from the Italian bakery Rossi loves to celebrate when his latest book became a bestseller, and a new knick knack for Penelope’s office after a particularly brutal case.

You say it’s all in passing, but he knows it’s not. You’re trying your hardest to keep the team together in the little ways, strengthening bonds that extend beyond coworkers. You want to fit in and be accepted, and you worry so much that you won’t. This is your way of trying to show that you’re a part of this team too, not just the new girl and one of the young ones. 

Aaron blinks twice. You’re looking at him expectantly, and he wishes you wouldn’t. All he’ll do is disappoint you. 

“You don’t need to worry,” he repeats. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. Why is it so bad for us to worry about you?” You look like you’re starting to get upset—it hurts Aaron more than he realized it would. It’s not bad for the others to worry, it’s bad for you. If you get attached, if he lets this get unprofessional, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself. Hurting himself is one thing; hurting you is another entirely.

“Let it go, Agent. Try to get some rest.” He looks out the window. He can see the sun coming up, and realizes he hasn’t slept since the night before last. He still needs to drive home—not really home, he remembers sadly, his empty apartment— and work on reports before he can even see Jack. He doesn’t think resting now is a good idea, and yet his body is so tired.

When he looks back, you’re reading your book again but your eyes are really paying attention to the words on the page. You’re just skimming, and blinking rapidly, and he realizes then he’s made you tear up.

His phone goes off—Haley, and he feels guilt building up in his chest, almost overwhelming him. He steps away to answer and talks quietly. He doesn’t want you to overhear and worry even more. When he comes back to his seat, you’ve fallen asleep. He takes the book from your hands gently and puts the bookmark in, closing it and resting it on the seat beside you. He watches you sleep and wonders if he’s making a mistake trying to hide from you. He thinks, and not for the first time, that you see right through him.

The plane lands an hour and a half later, and everyone is beyond exhausted. Even Spencer, who normally doesn’t need much energy or caffeine to start talking fast about something interesting he noticed about this case and this unsub, is unusually quiet. They’re all running on fumes, staying up two nights in a row profiling and then catching the unsub with the latest victim at one in the morning, and then boarding the jet soon after.

Aaron makes a decision, everyone can work on their notes from home and the report is due no later than day after next. Derek pats him on the shoulder and says no one is to call him for the next twenty-four hours. JJ and Emily exchange a laugh. Y

ou, he notices, though he wishes he wouldn’t, go up to Spencer and talk with him quietly. When you’re done, he beams at you and you at him. He wonders what you two talked about when they’re all heading out, listening to Spencer ramble about how the unsub’s use of his childhood spots as disposal sites offers insight into the abuse of his youth. Prentiss tells him to save it for the report. 

He and Rossi are walking back to their cars when Dave speaks up for the first time.

“You’re wondering what she said to him, aren’t you?”

Aaron stops for a moment. 

“You should know better than to profile me.”

“Oh, I’m not profiling. This is just me being observant. You should stop fiddling with your ring finger when you talk to her. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“Dave, I don’t need to tell you that this conversation—“

“I know, I know. I won’t mention it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Aaron. And by the way, she offered to write his notes for him if he wanted. He said it’s hard for him to write about unsubs with schizophrenic tendencies and she said she can try to help, if he wants. That’s all. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about this.”

Aaron gets in his car and doesn’t stop thinking about you the entire ride home.

-

You wish you could make it stop. The way you feel about your boss. It started so long ago, it’s almost a part of you now. Aaron is stern and his disposition is frightening, to the say the least. But only at first, you’ve realized, after so many late evenings spent discussing the case with him, breaking down the tiniest details, and him paying attention to your every word when you discuss the victim’s demeanor and behavior to try to figure out what had really happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought. You had gone to the overpopulated state school with the hopes of entering the medical field. You were a true empath, and there was no one’s suffering you couldn’t relate to, no one that you wouldn’t try to make feel better. All your life, people cried on your shoulder while you offered up words of comfort. And because of this, everyone thought you were a shoo-in for nursing or medical school, where you could help people through the worst days of their life.

All it took was a few days at the hospital where you had been working, a string of murder victims being wheeled in one after another, for you to reconsider your life’s work. None had survived the incident, but the killer let them live just long enough to be seen by the doctor, who then had to declare them legally dead.

Something about the victims seemed familiar to you, how they’d all come from wealthy families and were sliced up in their expensive clothing, expensive jewelry and watches smashed to bits instead of being stolen. You mentioned it to one of the officiers, who told someone else, and somewhere in that chain of events, your insight helped them catch the killer.

It was then, you thought, that maybe you should be working on the other side of these situations. Stopping the killer before it ever got to this. 

Then you’d done a one-hundred and eighty degree spin on your career, electing to pursue becoming an agent. You had been young, and motivated, and you chose to overlook when everyone told you this job might become your whole life, leaving no time for a husband and kids and a family.

You had ignored it all, working your way up from the local field office to child crimes in just a year and a half. The transition out of sex crimes to homicide was disturbingly hard, because at least before you’d had a victim to interview. You were no expert, not yet, but a unique asset altogether, combining a true mission to uncover the best in each victim, and figuring out their behavior patterns from bedrooms and diaries.

It was a unique skill-set, acquired mostly because a lot of traumatized children didn’t offer much to go off of. You had to turn to their childhood homes, toys, and scribbles to figure out what had been going on in the first place.

You reflect often on why you decided to leave child homicide when news spread that the BAU had an opening for one more agent. Truthfully, you hadn’t considered it at all, since you were more than happy with your current position and coworkers. You were solving cases, delivering justice, and bringing whatever comfort you could bring to grieving families.

In fact, you had been requested specifically. You, out of a hundred or more well-established, intelligent agents that could be a huge asset to the team. You were never special, and you didn’t like to think of yourself in that way either, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear that the team wanted you. 

And when you transferred over, everyone was so nice. The team was inviting, they respected your opinion, and especially in cases with younger victims, they revered your knowledge. You felt included, and invaluable, and as hard as you worked, you wanted to work even harder. 

Your boss was a brilliant agent and profiler, and so hardworking that you wanted to do anything you could to make his workload a little easier. You wrote the most detailed reports, so he would have to edit them as much.. You offered to pick up extra briefs, so he took home a couple less papers. And no matter what you did, acknowledged or not, you knew you were making the kind of difference you’d always dreamed you would. 

Aaron—he was only ever Aaron in your head, and Hotch the rest of the  time—liked you as an agent, and it made you happy. A little happier than you should be, considering he was happily married with a toddler and a perfect life outside of work. It was almost wrong, but it didn’t stop you from trying to impress him with your work ethic.

You always put aside your other feelings and focused on the team, and somehow in all of that, you felt like you were finally making your difference. You were close with the team and close enough with Aaron, that you hadn’t been worried to start that conversation on the jet now that all these circumstances were changing. Haley had asked for a divorce and he hadn’t muttered a word of it to anyone.

He’s so tired, you can see. You wonder if everyone else notices it too, or if it’s just you observing so closely. He has dark circles now, because he never sleeps, always working, and the furrows on his forehead are seemingly etched in and permanent. He misses his wife and his son, and you know it, and maybe it’s wrong to care about your boss so much that your heart hurts when you see him glancing at the framed photos of his family on his desk, or the tiny polaroids in his wallet, but you do. You think you’re in love with Aaron Hotchner, and you don’t know how to make it stop. 

You’re gonna get hurt, you remind yourself every now and then. 

Aaron and Spence have just come back from the prison, where they had an encounter with Chester Hardwick that they won’t really talk about. You’d been with the rest of the team in Indiana, and then two days later in Oregon. 

Aaron and Haley were divorcing, and it hurt him so much, you knew, because it wasn't for a lack of love. It was a lack of time, a shortness of hours in the day. He couldn’t be the husband Haley wanted and the father he thought Jack needed while being an agent for eighteen hours a day. It hurt you too, seeing him like this. You wish he felt better. 

The days and weeks seemed to blend into months. Somewhere in between Hotch’s divorce and JJ’s pregnancy, you had become complacent with your relationship with Aaron. Walking in together from the parking lot, leaving together at the end of a long day—usually alone and sometimes joined by Emily or David. Sometimes you’d have a frothy drink from a nearby coffee shop in your hand—to which you always hear, “My coffee’s not better than that stuff?”

“It’s not coffee, remember-”

“I know, you don’t drink coffee. That stuff is full of sugar. I don’t need you bouncing off the walls like Reid and Garcia too.”

You laugh, and then you wonder if it’s because he really cares or if it was just a passing comment. You share a lot of little moments like that. 

When his eardrum was nearly blown out after New York, you almost offered to drive back with him from Ohio to Virginia. It was instinct, because you just didn’t want him to be alone. You had exchanged a glance when he handed you the plate of brownies from the victim’s mother, and you knew he had read your mind. But he didn’t say anything, and you left it at that. You’re not nearly stupid enough to think that your boss reciprocates your feelings for him. Hell, most days you don’t even know what feelings you have for him.

Your seats on the jet are almost permanently fixed; near the coffee machine towards the cockpit. You sit across from each other, and sometimes you don’t even speak. He’ll bring you a cup of hot water, and he doesn’t ask if you need a tea bag from the make-shift coffee station, because knows they’re in your go-bag. 

When it’s his weekend with Jack after two weeks of back-to-back cases, Aaron is always working on the reports on the jet. It’s because he’s trying to reduce how much work he has to do at home, and even when everyone’s fallen asleep and your eyes are close to shutting, you get up and make him a cup of coffee. He’s never once told you how he takes it, and he doesn’t know if you’ve seen him make it either, but somehow you know, and it’s always right. When you offer him the steaming paper cup, he looks up at you with an entirely new look—something you’ve never seen before. You two don’t exchange so many words.

He says it all with his eyes, sometimes, even when you’re not looking. It’s gratitude. (When you get off the jet a few hours later, you tease Morgan about his snoring. Derek asks you where his cup of coffee is, and you shove his arm so hard he almost drops his bag.

In the end, it was you who had figured out there was something wrong with the Reaper’s last few victims. 

“Why would a nineteen year old girl date her teaching assistant?” You had questioned, looking through a file that everyone’s eyes had already seen. “An honors student, a freshman, I mean, none of this points to an illicit affair with faculty. She knew it was against the rules and her roommates said she’s never so much as skipped class.”

“That could have been because she wants to see him,” Derek interjects. “If they were truly in love like Foyet said, she’d take every opportunity to be with him.”

“But in an environment where no one can know you two are together? I mean, if she was in love and close to getting engaged, wouldn’t she tell her best friends? Her parents? How many teenage girls keep something like that just to themselves?”

The pieces of the puzzle that had once fit together so nicely were coming undone. It felt like the blink of an eye, from catching Foyet to him escaping. Everyone was on edge, no one more than Aaron, and your empathy still knew no bounds. Where you had once been able to focus on work and dedicate all your thoughts to the cases, you now were distracted and distant. Every other thought was about Aaron, as wrong as that might be. 

Canada had been something else entirely. It was difficult for the entire team to fathom, but nearly impossible for you. You had lost your temper twice—something you’d never done before— and thrown up when the team discovered all the shoes. JJ had run after you but in the end, Aaron was the one who found you outside.

“I’m sorry, JJ, I’ll be fine—I-I just need a minute,” you breath out, chest heaving and tears brimming. 

“It’s okay,” Aaron says, “take your time.” 

You turn around so fast, your breath catching, and you hate this situation. You could never hate Aaron but you hate this, you hate that he followed you and that he’s seeing you like this. You look weak, after two and a half years of trying to prove to him that you’re strong—strong enough to handle this job, do what needs to be done, and not cry at a crime scene.

“I-I’m sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologizing?” He doesn’t sound mad, or like he’s belittling you, and you don’t know why that’s what you expected. This is Aaron, your Aaron, and even though he’s not really yours it doesn't seem to matter much right now.

“I’m making a scene. I-I shouldn’t be throwing up on the job or screaming at those unsubs or anything else-”

“It’s okay. It happens.” Aaron says it so concisely, you almost feel better for a second. Isn’t this what it’s always come down to? You need Aaron like air, and somehow he always knows what you need to hear. He doesn’t treat you any differently compared to the others but it feels different today. You can’t describe it in words. If JJ or Morgan had followed you out here, you would have said the same things, but you wouldn’t have felt this way. Like if you crumble here today, Aaron will be there to pick you up.

“Take your time, please,” he repeats. “I know you think you have something to prove to me, but you don’t. You’ve proven it already, to all of us. Admitting that all of this gets to you isn’t a bad thing. That’s what separates us from them.”

At that moment, a dam bursts. Tears flow down your face like they haven’t in so long, as long as you can remember. You think you should feel embarrassed, crying in front of your boss, but Aaron takes you into his arms and you can’t remember the last time you felt this safe. Cheesy, you think, but this is everything I thought it would be and more.

You’re not sure how long he holds you there, but eventually once the front of his shirt is covered in your tears and he offers you a tissue (Does he just carry this around waiting for one of us to cry?) and you head back together. This is the embarrassing part, you think, bracing yourself and biting your inner cheek. But if the team is judging you at this moment, they certainly don’t show it.

You join JJ and Emily inside the house, who ask you if you’re okay when you sniffle for the last time. Spencer asks you later, on the way home. Derek tells you to call him if you need anything. Dave tells you, “You’ll be okay, kid,” and somehow, you believe him. Penelope texts you once on your phone, checking in and promising a distracting, gossip filled girl’s night out soon.

Aaron walks you to your car, and says goodnight. You’re delusional, you think, once you're back at home. You’ve taken the longest, hottest shower imaginable and your record player is emitting the scratchy sound of your favorite Beatles album. You’re in a big shirt that’s getting wet while you brush your freshly cleaned hair and all you can think about is how it felt to be wrapped in Aaron’s arms a couple hours ago. 

You are delusional, you remind yourself. You’re checking your phone every couple minutes like a love-sick teenager. You think Aaron’s going to call you to check in, you almost feel it in your bones. You leave the ringer on incase he calls later—maybe he showered and sat down to work on some reports before sleeping. You fall asleep thirty minutes later, exhausted down to your bones, and wake up startled by your phone going off. In your sleepy delirium, you answer without looking who it is—assuming it’s Aaron.

“Hotch?” 

“Hey, sorry it’s JJ. We have another case, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, JJ, um, okay, I-I’ll be there in ten. Text the address, okay?” Your cheeks burn at the slip.

“I sent it just now. Listen, I’m sorry, but can you try Hotch’s cell? I called and texted and he’s not answering.” You feel your stomach turn, first because Aaron isn’t answering and he always answers, and second because JJ thinks he’ll answer if you call.

“I’ll try him now. I’ll call you back.”

You try him twice while changing and another time in the car. Your only explanation is that maybe he went to see Jack and put his phone away, but even that doesn’t check out. 

When you get to the scene, you inform the others about Aaron not answering.

“Alright, let’s split up for now and I’ll keep trying Hotch,” Derek says. They don’t seem that worried, and maybe that lulls you into not worrying either. After all, they’ve known him a lot longer than you have.

You end up with Spencer and Emily at the doctor’s house, combing through patient files Garcia sent over. There’s tens of dozens, and even though you want to go with Emily to Aaron’s place to get him, you know your experience with kids and in the hospital is vital. You and Spencer start working, but something feels off. You just can’t place it. 

In the end, you attribute it to your nerves from the last case. Your fear of embarrassing yourself carried into today, and even though you know no one judged you for losing it in Canada, the feeling lingers. Spencer answers the phone from Emily and says that Hotch was busy with something at the bureau that now requires Emily too. In the end, you and Spence figure it out just in time. Your body is so tired, it hurts, and then on top of that, Spencer gets hurt. You can barely process what’s happening, and you don’t feel better until the doctor says it’s through-and-through.

“God, Spencer, never do that again,” you say, your hands wet with the blood from his wound. You wipe it on your clothes, thinking you’ll change soon. 

“Guys, guys listen to me, something’s happened to Hotch.” The blood drains from your face and your breath stops in your throat. 

“What?” 

“Emily told me not to say anything until we got the unsub, but he’s in the hospital.”

The next hour is a blur. You all show up to the hospital, and Emily is talking to a bunch of agents. Their faces are blurred because you can hardly think straight. 

“Em? Is he okay?” your words must be coming out frantically because everyone’s looking at you like you’re about to crumble. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t say anything because I knew we wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case, I know it’s wrong but-”

“Is he okay?” You didn’t mean to cut her off, it just happened like that. Your mind is so clouded right now with a petrifying vision of Aaron dying alone on the floor of his new apartment that he hates so much, while you were waiting for a call for him.

“He-he hasn’t woken up yet.” 

You sit on a chair by Aaron’s bed. He looks like he’s sleeping, and a part of you had always wanted to see him like this. It would be comforting, if he actually was sleeping. You’d imagined it a little differently—you thought for sure he snores and sleeps on his side. You always notice sleep lines only on one arm when you guys have just woken up and continue working on the case. You stare extra hard when he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt on particularly hot days. Everyone would moan and groan about another case in the heat of Texas or Arizona, but not you.

It seems like those memories were a million years ago. 

When he wakes up, everyone pours in and it distracts you for a few heartbeats. When they realize what Foyet is actually after, the terror is apparent on everyone's faces. You realize how long it’s been since you last saw Haley and Jack when they finally step into the room. You and Emily leave to give them privacy. 

Later that night, you’re back in that chair. Aaron wakes up for a few minutes at a time, and when he finally stays awake, he notices you.

“How long have I been out?” 

“Thirty minutes. Give or take.”

“Is there water?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scramble up to get the pitcher and pour him a glass. There’s a straw too, which you put in the cup and hold still for a second so he can drink.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He can see all your emotions on your face. It doesn’t take him long at all, not anymore. You’ve been crying and your clothes have blood on them. He’s alarmed again.

“Is that your blood?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“No, no, Hotch. We had a case, the-the unsub shot Spence. He’s okay though, it just got on me and I haven’t been back home to change yet.”

“Why don’t you? Go home?”

“I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I let you go home alone yesterday and look what happened.” You smile meekly at your own joke, hoping he appreciates it. He lies still though, not smiling. 

“I think you should go home. Get some rest after everything.”

“You know, Hotch, only you would tell me to go home and rest up when you’re the one who’s currently in the hospital.” 

“I just think-”

“Do you want me to leave? If you do, I will. I swear.” There’s silence between you two for a moment.

“No.” 

“Good, because I wasn’t going to.” The corners of his mouth turn up a little. You barely even notice it. “I can’t leave now. I don’t want you to sit alone here.” You should stop talking, you think to yourself. But you don’t. “You know yesterday, I got home and the whole time I sat there wondering if you were gonna call my cell. I even turned the ringer up all the way so I didn’t miss it. And I know that’s stupid because why would you call me? But I had this feeling. And now all I can think is why didn’t I call you?”

“Don’t think like-”

“Don’t think like that? Yeah, I knew you would say that. But if I had called you like I wanted to, and asked you to come over like I wanted to, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t because I was scared and I don’t want to be scared anymore. And I know this is the last thing you need to hear right now, but I guess I can’t hold it in any longer.” 

You want to clamp your hand over your mouth. Your favorite cheesy rom-coms have infiltrated your brain, and you can’t fathom how stupid you must sound right now to Aaron. He’s just almost died and the kid who was the last to join his team is declaring love for him on his hospital bed. But it won’t stop coming out.

“Can I tell you something Aaron? I mean, more than I already have? Emily said she didn’t tell me you were hurt because she knew I wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case anymore. About anything, anymore, if I knew you were missing or that you were hurt or dead. And I’ve been trying to hide it for so long, because I know you don’t need any more complications in your life right now, but, I think I have feelings for you, Aaron.” Hot tears stream down your face. You try to stop them but you can’t. They’ve been building up for two years.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t have a tissue for you this time.” You smile through your tears, but your entire body is still tense. It’s because you’re still expecting bad news, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Do you want me to leave? I can call Emily, she’ll sit with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want you to leave. And you don’t have to tell me these things, I already knew them.” Another few tears drip down your face. Aaron’s chest hurts more than it has ever before. He thinks back to your conversation on the jet that day, when you told him you cared about him and he hadn’t said much of anything at all. “I hope you know that I have feelings for you, too.” 

“You mean you care about me and the team?” you question half-heartedly. You think you’ve already gotten your answer. “I mean I care about the team a lot. And I care about you more than I should, more than what’s right. More than a superior should care about one of their agents. And I think if this hadn’t happened, I would have called you last night. Not because of the case, because of you. Because I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest. Aaron reaches out his hand a little, and you take it into yours. You sit like that for a long time, and you know there’s so much else going on, but a small part of you sighs in relief. Aaron is okay, and he feels about you how you do about him, and maybe everything will be okay in the end. 

The months after Haley’s funeral are tough for everyone. It’s weird going to work and not seeing Aaron. Sometimes you inadvertently make a cup of coffee how he likes it and have no one to give it to. You started drinking some, even though it tastes bitter and terrible, it makes you feel close to him.

How stupid is that, you wonder one day, sipping the coffee and looking over files with JJ. If the rest of the team thinks you're stupid, they haven’t shown any signs of it yet. You’re sure they mostly feel bad for you and your pathetic behavior. You’ve gotten sloppy because you can’t stop thinking about how Aaron is doing. 

You and the team will go visit him and Jack at his new place. You make cookies, snickerdoodle for Aaron and oatmeal raisin for Jack.

“What kind of a kid are you?” you questioned, helping Jack scribble in his Captain America coloring book. He’s munching on a cookie while you try to figure out what part of the shield is blue and what part is red. “I mean, who likes oatmeal raisin cookies at the tender age of 5?” 

“I did,” Spencer says, taking another one out of the tin. 

“You don’t count, genius,” Morgan says, and then directs his gaze at you. “And I mean come on, no chocolate chip for me? None at all? That hurts.”

“I made you some like two weeks ago! I have a job, you know,” you fire back. Aaron laughs, eating the snickerdoodle after dipping it in milk. It’s so domestic, you feel yourself staring. You only turn away when he catches you looking. 

When he comes back, you wonder if it’ll ever feel normal again. That silly routine you two had, the chairs on the jet near the coffee machine that you still sit in, walks to your car. 

At first, it just feels strange. So much has changed yet the team’s dynamic remains the same. You get through cases with the same ferocity you had when you first started, eager to prove your worth again. Your reports detail every detail and then some, and you stay even later than Aaron some nights. You need something to focus on, and your cases seem like the best option. The other option is to have another conversation with Aaron about your feelings and you think you might die if that happens.

When it finally does happen, it’s plenty embarrassing. You were so sure about your theory about this unsub, so sure that he would confess if he was confronted about his crimes and reminded of the humanity of his victims—three little kids, all under ten. Maybe that’s why it bothered you so much, and that’s why you stormed into the residence even though the rest of the team was screaming at you not to. In the end, you talk him down, but Aaron runs in behind you anyways and nearly spooks the unsub into suicide.

“You do not have the authorization to make calls like that,” Aaron yells at you, and though you had once thought you would die if he yelled at you, it’s all too easy to yell back. 

In that moment, when you had known what would happen, dealing with your area of expertise, he stormed in and questioned you and your abilities as an agent and as a profiler.

“I don’t need authorization, I knew what would happen, and I knew how to talk him down without this ending in gunfire—”

“I don’t care what you think you knew. This is a team, and we don’t make decisions that jeopardize a case without agreeing on it!” “You mean you have to agree with every decision I make? I had it handled, Hotch, you almost blew that whole thing up because you didn’t believe in me!”

“That’s not what this is about,” he fires back, and it feels strange to be yelling at you. He can’t recall the last time he’s ever done this. The rest of the team is just packing up in the police station, trying not to overhear but not really having any choice in the matter.

“Yes it is! You don’t trust me! Not to make decisions for this team and for our cases, or for anything. You just proved that back there. You don’t trust me.” It’s happening again. Tears brew in your eyes. They spill down before you can stop it. Aaron softens before your very eyes at the sight of them. “Stop! Stop feeling bad just because now I’m crying, they’re not tears for you, they’re angry tears and I can’t control it-”

“Of course, I trust you.” His voice has dropped from a yell to just above a whisper. “How could you think that I don’t?”

“I’m not stupid, Aaron. I know what I’m doing. My plan was going to work and you shot me down in front of everyone because you didn’t believe in me,” you say between tears. “Nothing’s changed.”

“And what do you think would happen if you stormed in there and I lost you too?” His voice is gentle. You hadn’t noticed that he was so close to you now. You can see the eyelash on his cheek and feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“That’s not what this is about.”

“That is exactly what this is about. You think I don’t trust you, so I won’t let you walk into a confrontation alone? That I think you don’t know how to profile, how to handle these unsubs, so I get into a screaming match outside a crime scene? Tell me, does that check with any of my behavior in the years I’ve known you?”

“I don’t know, Hotch, I don’t profile you.”

“You call me Hotch in front of everyone, and especially when you’re upset with me. When it’s just us you use Aaron. You know how I take my coffee even though I’ve never told you, because you pay attention even when no one else is looking. Cases with children affect you the most, especially when it takes us longer to work them, because you think you should be quicker and figure out the unsub faster since you worked with kids before joining the team. You remember the little things everyone says because you don’t want them to think you’re not paying attention to them. You cry about cases when you feel like there’s something more you should have done, even though there’s nothing else any of us can do. And you cry about me the most of all, that time on the jet, in the hospital, and just now because you think I don’t share your feelings. You think I know all this because I’m profiling you, but it’s not. It’s because I pay attention to those whom I love.” 

Shell shocked. You are shell shocked at Aaron’s speech, eyes wide and mouth open. You’re sure the rest of the team, hidden behind a bulletin board and the conference table is much the same. 

“I’m going to kiss you now. And that’s the end of the conversation about me not trusting you, okay?” You nod dumbly. Aaron’s lips are sweet and taste like his coffee—black, with two sugars. You feel another tear falling but it’s only because you hadn’t expected any of that. 

“That took long enough,” David says from behind the partition. 

and voila <3

#spent my sunday writing this while rewatching season 3 #putting off prep for my grad school interview b/c this is so much better <3 #hope everyone likes it #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotcher imagine #hotch #hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

[bluebeary-jay]

That funny feeling

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: pet names are something that's equally very easy and very hard for Joel (based on this request!)

Tags: established relationship, F-L-U-F-F, a grain of angst, idiots in love, a lot of overthinking uGH, mutual dumbassery, love deprived (& soft) Joel, i'm playing with the timeline here a bit, alsoo suggestive undertones hehe

Warnings: swearing and miscommunication, and nothing more ig

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: i'm finally feeling okay!! it took a while and i'm sorry for the wait. as always i hope you all will like what i came up with, and thank you again dear for requesting 💕

One of the things you noticed during those first few months of being in a relationship with Joel – and one which probably surprised you the most – was his fondness for using endearments when he was addressing you.

He called you by many names – darlin’, sweetheart and baby were just a tip of the iceberg.

And you adored it. Every single one of them.

How could you not when those pet names sounded so precious in that low and gruff voice of his? When the fact that he chose to let you get a glimpse at his softer side made you feel so special? 

He clearly liked doing this, too – and, as you suspected, watching your reaction when you received them. The tug of his lips and that dimple you so loved were an indicator enough that he wasn’t doing it out of obligation or because it was somehow expected of him.

Another thing that surprised you was how casual he was about it. Having not been in a proper relationship before made you feel out of your depth here, but from what you gathered, neither was he. At least for some time.

And yet, he seemed to have no problem or reservations about addressing you this way. He started even before he kissed you for the first time. You suspected that back then it was his strategy to show you – without voicing his intentions out loud – how he felt about you. It worked, somehow (because how were you supposed to resist that southern charm of his?), and once you both settled who you want to be for one another, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

But instead of turning it off, it only amplified his new habit and added more love and tenderness to the tone of his voice when he was calling you pet names.

You certainly were not complaining – especially when Joel was muttering those sweet words in a raspy voice into your skin when you were just waking up, or whispering them in your ear when you were passing each other during the day, brushing his hand against your waist.

So it was probably no surprise that you wanted to return the favor. The longer you were with each other, the more you wondered about what it would be like to call Joel by one of those endearments he used for you. If he would smile, if his eyes would crinkle in that adorable way…

Something was stopping you, though. Every time you were in public and Joel wasn’t currently looking at you, you were reminded of what kind of man you thought he was before you actually got to know him. His expression, the look in his eyes and his very presence were so intimidating that it gave you a pause each time. You knew he was a sweet, loving soul inside and it wasn’t like he’d be offended by being called by an affectionate nickname, or like your relationship would spiral down because of that.

…right?

What you did know, however, was that Joel Miller was a caretaker. A giver. And you wanted to take care of him, too, to make him feel as loved and cherished as he was making you feel – something you hadn’t a clue if you were doing right due to your own inexperience.

So one day, while you were tending to horses in the stables – one of your responsibilities in Jackson – you finally decided to stop overthinking and just… do what feels right to you. You were two grown-ass people. If anything happens – but probably nothing will – you’ll talk it out like adults.

You got lost in your own thoughts as you absent-mindedly brushed the coat of one of the horses. Suddenly, your attention was drawn by the animal neighing loudly but before you could look up, two strong arms embraced you from behind and a pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

You squealed in surprise, and then burst into giggles, when you felt Joel’s beard tickling your skin as he planted tender kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

It was not morning, but you haven’t seen him at all today since he left very early to help Tommy and some other men build a new storage house near the main street. As usual, you planned on meeting him when you’re done in the stables, but you were more than happy that he chose to surprise you.

“Hi,” you giggled. You tried to turn around to face him, but Joel grumbled and held you tighter to his chest, so you settled for putting your hand on the back of his head in an awkward half-hug. “You have some nerve coming here after you left me so rudely in the morning.”

He let out a sound between a groan and a chuckle.

“I tried to say goodbye, but you were out cold.”

“You didn’t try hard enough, then.”

“Fine. Next time I’ll shake you awake.” He pressed his lips to your pulse, planting a soft kiss there, and then another one a little bit lower, murmuring into your skin. “But you wouldn’t do that either if you were me and had an angel in your bed.”

You blew a raspberry and shook your head, making him hum against your neck with a smile. “Too much?”

“Just a little.” You turned around in his arms, and he dropped his head on your shoulder. “How’s work going?”

The man sighed heavily.

“It’s goin’. But I swear to God, Tommy gets more insufferable the sooner due date is. He almost lost it when some of the materials went missin’.”

“Well, it’s understandable with a little Miller on the way,” you replied, ruffling the hair on the back of his head and making Joel give you the stink eye. You scrunched your nose at him teasingly. “Get that pout off your face, mister, and better start thinking about what we’re watching tonight. My place, right?”

“Mhm.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then angled his head to the side. There was a distant shouting from the direction of the road and you could faintly hear Tommy’s voice among the noise. Joel took a deep breath and his warm eyes met yours. “Alright, I better go before he does somethin’ stupid again. I’ll meet you tonight after guitar practice with Ellie.”

“Don’t be late again or I won’t let you in this time,” you said sweetly and a smirk danced on his lips.

“You’re annoyin’, you know that?” Joel leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and then a lingering one on your forehead. “I’ll be on time, promise.”

You smiled and pushed his chest gently, letting him know that he should get back to his brother. He laughed – this actual rare and heartfelt laugh of his, which reminded you yet again how much you loved him – and took a couple of steps back.

“I’m holding you to it, handsome. Now go.”

Joel started to turn around, but then came to a sudden stop as soon as he heard you. It came out a bit awkward because he was mid-step and his feet kind of tangled up together, making him stumble before he managed to catch his balance.

You snorted and tilted your head to the side to peer at him, but his face was unreadable, almost blank. Like that rare and genuine laugh from earlier wiped all the emotions out of him.

“Hey. You okay?” you asked with a playful smile, taking in his expression. Joel looked over at you but didn’t answer, and you raised your eyebrows. “Joel?”

He parted his lips, like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Something wasn’t right. His sudden silence wasn’t anything new – one of Joel’s main traits was being untalkative, though it got better since you two started dating, so you were used to it. But this was different. In his eyes there was a look of… you honestly couldn’t tell if it was awe or hurt. But you’ve never seen an expression like this on his face before.

He still didn’t say anything. You started feeling uneasy, but tried to play it off.

“Or… I could swing by Ellie’s before you two finish and–”

“I gotta go,” Joel muttered suddenly. “I’ll… see you later.”

He turned to the exit, but you quickly went around him and blocked his way with a frown. “Hey, hey, hey, wait. I’m serious now, are you okay?”

Joel glanced at you again, but then averted his eyes almost immediately. You gave him a weird look when he turned his head, as if looking for someone to get him out of here, but then a grin spread across your face when you noticed…

“Is this… Are you blushing?” you asked quietly. Joel winced and your smile got even wider. “You are! Does that–”

“I really gotta go, dar–” he stopped himself and patted your arm in a slapdash manner, not meeting your eyes. “I’ll see you later, alrigh’?”

Before you had a chance to ask or stop him, he walked away quickly, leaving you behind.

Your shoulders slumped and the smile disappeared from your face.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

*****

He did not see you later.

In fact, you didn’t have a chance to talk to him at all that day.

Once you finished your shift, you went looking for him but Joel wasn’t at the construction site, nor could you find him anywhere in town. You tried asking Tommy and Ellie about his whereabouts, but while his brother was as clueless as you, the teen seemed suspiciously quiet, and the second you took your eyes off her, she disappeared as well.

He didn’t come to your house that evening, and as it turned out, didn’t have guitar practice with Ellie, either. You felt a little hurt by the sudden disappearance, but ultimately decided against going to his house and invading his space when he clearly needed it.

It wasn’t until the next day that you saw the man again, but you never got a chance to ask him about what happened.

Joel came unannounced to your house and – literally and figuratively – swept you off your feet, acting a little softer and more… well, handsy than usual, but still in his normal Joel-like fashion, as if nothing ever happened. He did apologize for disappearing but it also seemed like he was trying really hard to avoid talking about yesterday altogether. So eventually you let it go.

The only explanation you could come up with was that you scared him off. Maybe it was too soon, maybe he just wasn’t okay with it – whatever the reason, it was evident he didn’t want you to bring it up.

So you decided to respect his boundaries and let the topic go. At least for now.

*****

Almost a week has passed, and you didn’t call him that again.

And fuck, if Joel wasn’t dying to hear that word from you just once more.

What he felt in that millisecond in the stables was so sudden and new – this weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach when you called him ‘handsome’ – that he honestly was at a loss how to react. Yes, he panicked (he wasn’t proud of that) and then when you pointed out the traitorous blush on his cheeks… it overwhelmed him.

Avoiding you for the rest of the day was a cowardly thing to do, but he needed some time to think about his next move before he could face you again.

He screwed up, that much was obvious. Joel didn’t know how to fix it, but he did have an idea how to make you feel comfortable enough to maybe do it again. A chance for him to react accordingly this time.

So since then, he made sure to show and tell you more often how important you were to him and how much he loved you, even though he was dying of cringe at times. His efforts were rewarding, of course – your every smile, every look in his direction was considered a win and a blessing in itself – and it seemed you forgot about his freak-out from the other day.

But you didn’t try it again.

And Joel didn’t know what to do. He’d never ask anyone for advice (God forbid Tommy ever finds out how big of a deal it was to his brother), and talking it out with you seemed like the most unattainable and impossible idea in the world.

You continued calling him by his name – and he couldn’t exactly complain when his name sounded so fucking perfect in your voice – but hell if Joel didn’t wish you try something else.

It didn’t even need to be this ‘handsome’ one you used. Any stupid nickname you come up with, he’d revel in it and this time wouldn’t chicken out.

Jesus, he had it bad. It was almost pathetic.

It wasn’t a life-changing, world-moving issue, though, and Joel wasn’t spending every waking moment thinking about shit like that. There was still work needed to be done in Jackson, he and you still had your own lifes, and… days passed.

It was just over a week later, when Joel came back home from a late-night job to find you asleep in his living room, that he thought about it again.

His heart swelled with adoration when he saw your form curled up on the couch. You must’ve been waiting for his return, but neither of you expected his work to take this long.

Joel bent over and put one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around your body, grunting at the pain in his back. You inhaled sharply when he picked you up, grumbling something incoherent.

“Shh, babygirl, it’s me,” he whispered soothingly, cradling you against his chest. “I’ll put you in bed. Or do you want to go back home?”

You made a noise of disagreement and breathed him in deeply, not opening your eyes.

“You’re late,” you slurred instead of answering him, nuzzling into his chest. Joel sighed tiredly.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “The guys needed more help at the construction site.”

“Alright,” you mumbled again. “M’just glad you’re home now, honey.”

Joel’s feet stopped moving – gradually this time, not putting you at risk of being dropped – and he took a deep breath to tether himself before continuing his way to the bedroom.

You were asleep, he told himself while he was laying you down. It would be wrong to wake you and talk about it now. It could wait. He could wait.

Joel paused, then crouched at the head of the bed where he put you down, and delicately brushed some hair out of your forehead. His face was stoic, though those thoughts raged on like a hurricane inside his mind.

He had no idea how to do this. How to talk about this.

But he knew two things – he knew that his heart belonged to you, and that he didn’t want to settle for those pet names you accidentally muttered when half-awake, all because he was too much of a coward to admit what he wanted.

“Darlin’?”

“Hm?” you hummed, snuggling into his pillow.

Joel’s heart was beating so damn loud, he thought it was about to jump out of his chest. He took a grounding breath, brushing his knuckles against your cheek softly.

“Say that again,” he asked quietly in a raspy voice.

You made a face, keeping your eyes closed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Joel swallowed hard and he was so nervous, he had to remind himself to unclench his jaw not to break all of his teeth.

Fucking Christ, he could take on the swarm of infected any day without losing his cool, so why was admitting stuff like this so damn difficult?

“Not now. Before. The…” he cleared his throat with embarrassment. His tongue felt like it was made of lead, and his face like it was shoved into a campfire, “pet name.”

That word finally got your attention. In a blink of an eye you were wide awake and lifted yourself on your elbows, rubbing your eyes. Joel almost regretted having said anything.

“Pet name?” you repeated, and then a shy, uncertain smile crept over your face. “Oh… I thought you said you didn’t like it.”

Don’t run, don’t you dare run now…

“I never said that,” he grumbled and furrowed his eyebrows, angry at himself that he made such a big deal out of it, that he had to talk about it now, a whole week later. You winced sheepishly.

“Well… Yeah, you didn’t, but the last time…” You sat up straight on the bed, rubbing your eyes again like you wanted to make sure you were entirely awake and focused for this conversation – which made Joel wishing even more that he had kept his mouth shut. “You ran off and I thought… I dunno, that…”

You shrugged, but you didn’t need to finish, for he understood how it must’ve looked.

Joel sighed heavily and put his forehead on your knee with fatigue. He felt your hands smoothing the shirt on his shoulders and back, and once again wondered what he did to ever deserve you.

“What do you say we don’t talk ‘bout this?” he proposed softly, feeling like a goddamn fool now. “Just… It felt nice. Good. And I want you to do it again… sometimes.”

“I want to talk about it, though.” You cupped his cheeks and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. A thought ran briefly through Joel’s mind about how fitting it was – he on his knees, looking up at you like the miracle you were. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Joel. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“What do you think?” he whispered, looking away, though your hands kept his head in place. He raised one of his own to cover your fingers with his, keeping it there. “It’s… goddammit,” he swore and closed his eyes, squeezing your hand faintly. “It’s all just kinda new for me, too,” he said at last. “As dumb as it sounds.”

You swiped your thumbs over his cheekbones. “It’s not dumb.” He didn’t say anything, and after a couple of seconds you sighed. “Okay, we don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to. Just… maybe try to give me a sign next time,” you offered gently. “I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You were trying to lighten the atmosphere, bless your kind heart, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards despite the turmoil in his heart.

“Darlin’, that’s what I’ve been tryin’ to do for the past week. I’m not good at talkin’ but I… shit, I don’t know, I thought that if I start callin’ you like that more, it’ll… prompt you to do the same, I guess.”

At that, your hands slid off his cheeks and your face turned blank.

“Oh,” you breathed. Joel lifted his eyebrows in question and you added hurriedly: “I thought you were doing this to… I don’t know, let me know that you feel more comfortable calling me that than getting called…”

It was Joel’s turn to look at you blankly.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he whispered with disbelief clear in his voice. “I tried to somehow show you that it’s fine. Do you…” he paused when you slowly started to giggle, which soon turned into a fit of laughter at the tone of his voice. “Do you have any idea how embarrassin’ it was for me at times? And not once–”

He tried to sound accusatory, but your bright smile was too contagious and soon Joel was grinning, too. He covered the bottom part of his face with his hand, trying to regain his composure, and shook his head while muttering under his breath.

Then he felt your hands on both sides of his head again when you leaned forward and, still with that big, gorgeous smile of yours, started peppering his face in kisses. He tried to swat you away but it didn’t take long before he gave in to his fate.

After a couple of seconds of this sweet torture, you pulled back a little, leaving the tingly feeling of your lips all over his face.

“So, just to make sure. I can call you that?” you asked semi-shyly, though there was a mischievous glimmer in your eye, which made Joel smirk lopsidedly.

“Already told you, beautiful,” he murmured in a low voice, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone lovingly. “But nothin’ over-the-top, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, just as quietly, and then leaned in to kiss him lightly.

The suffocating coils of embarrassment in his stomach disappeared the moment you touched him. Joel decided that if suffering through those moments of vulnerability would end up with you in his arms and his lips on yours, he was able to survive them.

“Now come to bed, handsome,” you whispered against his mouth with a smile. Your voice had that downright sinful tone to it, which you knew was driving him insane. “I got cold waiting for you all alone.”

Little minx.

He gave you a smirk before crawling on top of you and scooping you in his arms. The sound of your laugh filled the room as he rolled both of you over, pulling you closer and onto his chest.

“Whatever you wish, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo

[laughing-with-god]

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

-----

He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #yandere au #bts #bangtan boys #male yandere #taehyung fanfic #yandere taehyung x reader #kpop fanfic #taehyung fluff #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction

[pandoraslxna]

Reader & Lo'ak making out with him on top of her dry humping/grinding into her aggressively

Please 🙏🏻

Close ain’t close enough

adult Lo‘ak x female human reader

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop overthinking how certain things could even work out, between a human and a Na‘vi.

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, dry humping, size difference, mentions of belly bulging, making out, cuddling, fluff, dirty talk

Na’vi translations:

Tiyawn - love

Sevin - pretty

Love was the last thing you were looking for when you fled from the RDA and sought refuge in one of the Na’vi clans, around a year and a half ago. But the omatikaya say, that the hearts compass will always guide you true.

And guiding you it did, right into the arms of the olo’eyktan’s son. A young warrior, just a couple of years older than you. A carbon copy of his father in any way, but with metkayina tattoos littered across his chest. A constant reminder of the time he had spent living within another clan, far away from the forest he calls home, back when his own family sought refuge from the war too.

An experience that sort of formed a connection and later a bond between you both. Sharing similar memories, similar emotions of feeling lost and like an outsider quickly became the topic of your very first conversations with each other.

It feels like an eternity had passed since then.

The room Norm had assigned you with wasn’t exactly small, you’ve seen a lot worse here in hells gate. And you were grateful for everything they provided you with, since it was a privilege to even be here in the first place. But with a full grown Na’vi in his twenties, sprawled out over your human-sized bed, your room definitely seemed a little cramped.

It had been around a month ago, since Lo‘ak blurted out that he was in love with you. He’s never been one to overthink things, always living after this silly do-now, think-later mentality. He just told you straight away, when he realized that his feelings for you held way more than any friendship could carry. You, on the other hand, began to overthink a lot. Not about any emotions or feelings— no, you were clearly head over heels in love with the four fingered Na‘vi.

But there was the significant fact that you were a human, a small, oxygen breathing, human. And he was a big, easily eight or nine feet tall, Na‘vi. Even crouching down, Lo‘ak was still big enough to rest his chin on top of your head.

And as children growing up in war, physical affection was something you were both pretty much starved in, so it immediately became some sort of love language for the both of you. Even as friends, ones touch bought the other great comfort. But now that there was something else besides friendship growing between you and Lo‘ak, a simple touch such as holding hands, hugging or cuddling, soon wasn’t enough anymore. It was far from enough, actually.

As you and Lo’ak watched some random movie that Norm had recommended you, your hands almost naturally sought each other out. When your fingers touched beneath the blanket, you had turned to him and smiled softly. He huffed a fond laugh at you through his nose and hooked your fingers together. Focused on the film, you touched absentmindedly. Lo‘ak would massage your fingertips, enjoying how your four fingered hand felt against his own and you would soothingly rub your thumb across the back of his big palm. It was like a perfectly coordinated dance routine, familiar and comfortable.

Every one or two minutes, Lo’ak reached for the mask around his neck, taking supplementary sips of carbon dioxide.

Everything felt peaceful. From the noises of the small TV, to the faint hum of his breathing mask, to the slide of your hands caressing one another. You always felt so incredibly relaxed and content when you were with him.

But even though your relationship was still fairly new, you couldn’t stop thinking about that there were things that you probably could never share with him. Things that couldn’t work out– at least not how they would in a normal relationship. In basically any relationship, where both parties are from the same species, to begin with.

Things, such as being intimate with one another.

Even thinking about it made your mind spin, palms feeling a little sweaty and cheeks flushing a flustered red.

Right on cue, Lo‘ak pulls you just a little closer. And then a hand comes down to lay on your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your leggings and gently squeezing the flesh underneath. Looking up at him with a raised brow, he only glanced back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lo‘aks hand doesn't stop, though. He begins gently rubbing up and down your thigh, fingertips coming dangerously close to touching your core, where a damp spot was already forming on your underwear, despite your internal voice begging your body to calm down. He wasn’t even doing anything yet. It was just his hand on your thigh.

You bite back a gasp when he grips the meat of your inner thigh more firmly. You could feel your resolve crumble more by the second. It gets worse when Lo‘ak leans down to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder, where the straps of your top had slipped down a little and exposed your skin to him.

"Lo‘ak…", you say softly, exhaling a breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding since he had placed a hand on your thigh.

"Hmh?"

"I thought we agreed on taking it slow?" There’s a coy smile on your lips that you weren’t able to hide, along with a playful tone in your voice that almost sounded a little too tempting to his ears.

"What, so now I can’t even kiss my pretty little girlfriend anymore?", he grins and you roll your eyes with a giggle. "We couldn’t take it any slower if we tried, tiyawn"

Another kiss was placed right on top of your collarbone, while he snug his arms around your middle and rolled himself on top of you. His face was now nearly pressed against the space between your breasts and you could feel him inhale deeply, mumbling something you couldn’t quite pick up, but was probably something about how you smelled good.

Your heart begins to beat harder in your chest when you feel him repositioning himself, so your legs were on either side of his hips, spread as wide as you could manage to make room for him.

Lo‘ak grasps at your legs, more in desperation than anything else. His hands roughly massage your plump skin and then he drapes them over his arms and hooks them up higher. At this angle, you were nearly folded in a half and even though Lo‘ak was careful not to crush you under his weight, there was a certain pressure he put on your pelvis with his own hips. This time, there was no way to hold back the gasp escaping your lips, when you finally felt it. His cock, stirring to life underneath his loincloth and pressed snugly against your clothed cunt.

This was new. Touching each other wasn’t new, but the closeness. Feeling each other like this. This was definitely new.

Overcome with need, Lo‘ak moves to press his lips against yours, his tongue instantly wedges itself into your mouth and curls around your own. He suddenly can't think of anything but touching you, in any way he can. You yelp into the kiss, surprised by it’s suddenness, but after a beat, you melt into it, tangling your fingers in his braided hair. Tingles run down his neck at the feeling of your fingers and their movements against his scalp.

Lo‘ak allows himself to move, carefully testing the waters as he grinds himself against you just once. He groans at the feeling of your puffy lips against his cock, perceptible even through the thin fabric of your pants.

Breaking the kiss, Lo’ak exhales shakily, overwhelmed by the reality of the situation, "You don’t make this easy for me, sevin."

He allows himself to look down at where your hips contact one another, feeling his composure slip by the sheer sight of it. He catches himself wishing there were less layers of clothing separating you, as he watches his hard cock glide over your covered pussy.

Lo‘ak looks back up at your face, gazing into your glassy eyes. His beautiful little human girlfriend is pinned beneath him, grasping at him. With lips swollen from a heated kiss and cheeks flushed into a deep shade of red. He presses a kiss right there on the apple of your cheek and even though your face felt hot, his lips were still warm against your skin.

The next kiss is placed on the lobe of your ear, pointy teeth carefully grazing it before he buried his face completely in the crook of your neck.

Another buck of his hips against yours has your mind spiraling. This time, you could clearly feel the outline of his cock. The length alone must’ve been almost half of your forearm, with a girth that would be enough to split you clean in half. Of course a part of you hoped that you were wrong, but apparently all the concerns and the overthinking really was justified.

There was no way that would ever fit inside you.

"I just want to… just want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad", Lo‘ak pants and the next sound that flees from your mouth is a noise similar to a whimper, when his tip brushes against your clit. Learning fast, Lo‘ak repeats the same motion again, his length throbbing painfully to the sound of your little mewls and whimpers.

"Eywa, you feel so good like this", he groans, putting just a little more pressure into his thrusts to feel the outline of your cunt against him. "But I can’t stop thinking about how perfect your pussy would feel, wrapped around me so tight."

You moan at the sound of his voice, hot and low, speaking directly into your ear, combined with the way he was aggressively dry humping you now.

"Lo‘ak", your breathy sigh sends a pleasant shiver coursing down his spine. His name has never sounded so sweet before.

"Hmm you’d squeeze me so good, wouldn’t you? And you would be so full of my cock. O-Oh fuck."

One of the hands that’s been grabbing your hips suddenly moves between your bodies to caress your stomach, thumb running in gentle circles around your navel.

"I wonder if I could make your cute tummy bulge, if I could watch my cock move inside you. What do you think, huh?"

You moan and you try to nuzzle yourself against him as much as you can, gasping against his shoulder, "Y-You’re gonna make me cum!" You could really feel it starting to build. You could feel how hard Lo‘ak humping you was starting to pay off. His hips roll against yours frantically and you’re trying not to be too loud as he gazes at you with those blown-out yellow eyes, a look of anticipation on his face.

"Yeah? You’re coming?", Lo’ak grunts roughly, still lifting and dropping his hips with maximum effort. He feels himself getting lost in his imagination, closing his eyes to make him believe that he was actually buried deep inside of you right now and not just humping your clothed cunt like he was some horny teen that’s never touched a woman before. "Shit, baby, i’m close too." He pushes his face back against your neck, panting into your sweaty skin.

Your cunt clenches down on nothing, desperate for his cock, but for right now, more desperate to come than anything else.

"Want to burry my cock into that tight little pussy of yours, want to stretch you nice and wide, see how much of me you can take." He’s rambling now, groaning and panting against you throat. Occasionally, he’s quiet in favor of kissing and sucking on your skin, licking every inch he could reach. His hands hold you in a bruising grip, pulling your hips up and against him as he continues to grind his cock on you.

"P-Please I’m… I’m so close, don’t stop!"

"Can feel how wet you are, baby. You’re fucking drenched, just look at you, making a mess on both ours clothes."

Lo’ak’s right. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. Could feel the wetness seep out of you like sticky syrup, soaking your underwear and then your leggings, before they stained his loincloth too. The way his cock was bumping against your clit over and over again didn’t really help with that either, but you were too far gone to care or feel embarrassed about it.

Feeling the same kind of euphoria, Lo’aks eyes flutter closed again, his lids suddenly far too heavy to hold open for another second. Turning your heard, your lips brush his, the barest hint of contact as you pant into each others mouths.

Your orgasm damn-near kills you.

The sheer intensity of your pleasure, combined with the sugar-sweet warmth of your love for him, has tears pearling on your lashes and black dots creeping in at the corners of your vision. It feels like gravity has increased exponentially, trying to force him down against you even harder as you come.

His body is completely unmoving against yours, except for the rhythmic jolt of his hips as spurts of cum seep through the fabric of his loincloth. With every uncontrollable thrust, Lo‘ak grunts softly, pleasure pulsing through his body. Even though his vision is blurry and his mind is foggy, he lifts his head up slightly, making sure to get a glance at you as you’re in the midst of your orgasm. 

You look so beautiful. Your eyes are tightly shut, which only highlights your long lashes. Your lips look nibbled red, and even the sweat sliding down your temple looks like something that could only be crafted by Eywa herself.

You both rock soothingly in unison with one another, riding out your highs. You feel sticky basically everywhere and are hit with sudden senses of exhaustion, but you’re kept awake by Lo’aks languidly kissing to the sound of the movie’s end credits rolling on the TV.

#tw: aged up #lo’ak x female reader #lo‘ak x female reader smut #loak fanfiction #loak x y/n #loak x reader #loak x reader smut #loak sully #loak smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #atwow lo’ak #lo’ak smut #lo’ak x reader smut #lo’ak x fem!reader #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x y/n #loak x female reader #loak #loak x you #avatar loak #atwow loak #loak x female reader smut #lo‘ak x reader smut

[lizzieisright]

Alpha!Abby is such an oddly specific thing to write about, thank you for your service.

I've never sent a request to anyone ever before but I wanted to ask if you can write more alpha!abby.

Ahahaha, it will make more sense if you know that I spent my formative years in SPN and Teen wolf fandoms when they were at their peak, and in and out of kpop fandoms as well. (+ I worked on og story with omegaverse because I wanted wlw with a strong omega lead, which led to me getting really in depth with a/b/o, and now I'm quite fond of it)

Palestine: what can you do

Fri(end)s pt 2

alpha!abby x omega!reader

Summary: after you start dating, the question of sex comes up and Abby finds out you have 0 (zero) experience. So Abby, being an amazing partner, guides you through everything.

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), virgin!reader, no hurt only comfort, communication, they're incredibly comfortable with each other. for smut: dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering (r!receiving), penetrative sex (r!receiving).

a/n: it's a mammoth (8k). I know. I don't know how it happened.

tags: @ushijimaswife-77

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

There's no such a big difference between being friends with Abby and dating Abby. It might sound good since you're already super comfortable with each other, but being friends for so long with an alpha who is a player leaves its marks. 

You constantly forget you have a claim on Abby. You see other omegas look at her, smell her, and you don't remember that you are her omega, not other people - you just chuckle and do nothing about it. 

Abby gets confused because she can't stop fucking glaring at other alphas - but Abby is a possessive asshole, she knew it would happen. Still, you don't act like you're a couple sometimes, and it kinda hurts. 

Abby watches how once again you freeze when another omega looks at her, your scent going just a bit sour, but you still do nothing, and Abby presses down her frustration. 

It hits her only after two weeks of you doing it, why you’re doing it. She realises it when you two are sitting in her living room, drinking wine and chatting, like always, and when she does, she is filled with desire to tease you. 

“I have a question.” Abby asks with a cocky grin, and you roll your eyes fondly. “You know you can scent me, right?”

Your eyes go comically big before you understand what she is saying, but then you avoid looking at her - not in a bad manner, but more like you want to hide from her.

“Um. Yeah. Right.” Abby laughs kindly and tugs you so you could sit on her lap. You're clearly embarrassed by your own obliviousness, and Abby wants to tease you so bad. 

“Since we're dating? And I literally told you I'm yours?” You groan and Abby laughs harder. 

“I'm so used to you fucking every pretty omega you see, my mind hasn't caught up yet.” You mutter, trying to defend yourself, but Abby's pretty laugh makes you smile. “Did it upset you?”

“A little. But I knew you wouldn't be cruel like this to me, so I figured you had a different reason.”

Your heart breaks a little and you take Abby's face into your palms, staring into her pretty blue eyes, while her arms are wrapped around your back. 

“I love you.” You say with all your soul. 

Abby blinks, her mouth falls open. She blinks again. Then her whole face goes red. You giggle and kiss her forehead. 

“Thank you.” Abby says eventually and you laugh harder. 

“What kind of response is this?” 

Abby blinks and buries her face in your shoulder, embarrassed.

 “I love you too. And I'm thankful for your love.” 

You giggle and kiss Abby, pressing closer to her as her scent envelopes both of you. Abby holds you so tightly you can't take a full breath, but you don't care, you like being close to her. 

You break the kiss and very tentatively, as if you expect Abby to stop you, rub against her scent glands. Abby's fingers dig into your ass and she sighs, her voice low. The room starts smelling like arousal and Abby chuckles. 

“Have you caught up on the fact that I really want to fuck you or do you need more explicit confirmation for it as well?”

Your face burns with Abby's every word, but then there's a sudden smell of anxiety that makes Abby slow down. 

“We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” She reassures you, her hand caressing your back to bring you some comfort. Abby really doesn't like being a cause for your anxiety, especially in a topic that requires trust.

“Thanks.” You sigh and cringe at yourself. You're an adult, for fuck’s sake, there's nothing to be ashamed of. “I just.” You take a longer breath. You feel humiliated - not by Abby, never by her, but by some social expectations. “Please don't be weird about it. I'm a virgin.”

Abby freezes. You watch her blank face nervously - you don't know how she'll react. You keep repeating “there's nothing to be ashamed of” over and over in your head, but you start to crumble when Abby stays silent. 

“You're being weird about it.” You chuckle nervously. Abby shakes her head and smiles. 

“Sorry.” She then grins like she won this life. “I know it's stupid, but it makes me happy.” 

You understand what Abby is saying: she is happy you trust her with this. She is also smug as fuck, this asshole, and you don’t say anything more  - you’re not going to boost her ego out of the stratosphere.

“Do you want to have sex someday?” Abby asks gently, watching your face as your scent keeps being sour. She wants to comfort you, any way she can. 

“Yeah. It's not like I don't know what it is, heat really makes you creative. But I've never been with another person. I'm nervous.” You tell Abby honestly. She nods, although your scent tells her you’re more scared than nervous.

“You've never smelled of anxiety before, when I flirted with you. Is it different because now it's a real possibility?” 

You take a moment to think about it, and then nod.

“Yeah. I mean, I knew I wouldn't let us have sex, and you also knew I'd regret it, so I wasn't worried when we'd make out.”

Abby hums, figuring out how to handle this conversation and make you feel safe. 

“What are you nervous about?” 

You take a moment to think - it's not like you haven't spent time worrying about it, but you're not with some imaginary stranger right now, you're with Abby, so you make an effort to pinpoint the exact reason. 

“Doing something wrong. You know how I always have to get everything right on the first try, and I guess sex is not an exception. Plus, you have so much experience and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me feel insecure.”

Abby hums again, thinking about your words. 

“Got it. Well, I mean- having experience is great for building confidence and seeing how diverse people can be, but when you come down to it, every person is different. Every time when I was with a new person, it was the first time all over again, except my hands didn't shake and I didn't cum in the first five minutes.”

It makes you feel better and you chuckle. You're grateful for Abby taking such care with her words. 

“Do you know what I like in bed? Do I know what you like in bed? I've got some experience, but we have no experience with each other. You know, even if you weren't a virgin, I'd still be nervous too.”

You laugh at this, not being able to imagine this alpha nervous. Abby doesn't do nervous. She is hot and confident and knows what she is doing. 

“Would you?” You ask sceptically. 

“Of course! You're my dream girl, I want it to be perfect.” 

“You're such a sap.” You shake your head and kiss Abby, the smell of love and affection filling your noses. “Thanks. For being so patient with me.” 

“Shut up, it's basic decency.”

“Well, when you put it this way, thanks for being basically decent with me.”

Abby pouts and you laugh, kissing her again. 

You decide to take it slow so you can get used to being close to Abby in a different way. You talk about it more later on, go on a “let's get tested” date and make a system as Abby would slowly introduce new things to you and you'd tell her if it's something you like or not. 

You're very eager to explore Abby's weak points - seeing what makes her run electric. You get fond of kissing her neck and rubbing circles into her hip bones - it never fails to get a sigh or a grunt out of her. Abby loves how enthusiastic you are, especially when you get all sciency-like with her and experiment on different parts of her body - that's how Abby finds out her sides are actually pretty sensitive. It's more playful than sensual, but you progressively get more comfortable with her. 

Then you start touching each other under your clothes, and Abby has a hard time not growling into your mouth as you trace her newfound sensitive sides with your warm fingertips, while Abby gets to explore your back, running her fingers over your spine. She doesn't hurry into touching your tits under your shirt - only when you hesitantly cup her rib cage with both of your hands and run your thumb under her tits, Abby feels like she is free to do the same. Still, she needs it to be talked about.

“You can touch me, if you want.” Abby rumbles into your neck, sniffing this beautiful scent of arousal and love. “Do you want me to touch your tits?”

“Yeah.” You smile and Abby giggles before carefully cupping you right tit. You copy her and sigh, surprised. “Oh. It feels good. Yours is so soft.”

Abby laughs kindly at your childlike wonder and kisses you. 

“They're sensitive too.” You grin and squeeze Abby's tit, but in your eagerness you do it too hard and Abby jumps. “Easy.”

“Sorry.” You ease up and gently run your fingers over Abby's nipple. “Does it feel good?”

Abby chuckles and runs her thumb over your nipple. You sigh and shudder, suddenly very turned on.

“You tell me. Does it?” 

“Uh- yes.” You pant and Abby keeps brushing her thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. “Shit. I didn't even-” Your hips start to move and Abby watches you as you get desperate and needy. She can fucking smell how wet you are. 

“If you want, you can rub against my thigh. Make yourself cum while I play with your nipples.”

You think about it for a moment. 

“Okay.” You pant, but then you get an even better idea. “Wait, can we, um-” You swallow as you try to get your brain together, a little overwhelmed: Abby's touch is so much more pleasant. “Can you grind against me? So we both cum? Or it doesn't work f-”

You don't get to finish your sentence because Abby turns you on your back and gets between your legs. 

“I fucking love your brain.” 

You grin and let Abby part your legs, even though it makes you nervous. Abby can smell it, so she checks in with you. 

“You okay? Wanna stop?” 

“No, fuck no. Maybe slow down a little?” 

Abby nods and doesn't make any quick movements. She puts your legs over her thighs, letting your knees rest there, but she doesn't move closer until you feel comfortable, caressing your thighs. You can see the tent in her pants and it makes you feel all giddy - you will never get tired of getting Abby hard. 

“Come here.” You tug Abby down and she grins before kissing you. 

Abby holds herself on her forearm while the other arm slowly guides your thigh on her hip, slow enough so you could stop her before she puts all her weight on you - it might feel safe, but it also might feel scary to be caged like this. But you eagerly let her manipulate you and buck your hips - you love having Abby’s weight on you. You can't help but arch into her desperately, keeping your legs spread wide. 

“Fuck, it reminds of that time when you were with me during my heat.” You murmur and brush baby hairs out of Abby's face.

Abby smiles, visibly trying to be all collected and calm for your sake, but her scent betrays her - it's overpowered with lust. Her blue eyes have sprinkles of red in them and you grin. 

“Move, Abby.” You laugh, and Abby laughs too, but then she presses her clothed cock against your covered pussy- “Uh!” 

Abby smirks at you and starts slowly grinding her hips, while you try to not make any embarrassing sounds. It feels amazing, her cock is thick enough to rub you in all the right places, the tip of her dick catching on your clit and making you swallow another whimper. 

“Do you want me to touch your nipples?” 

You nod and Abby slides her hand under your shirt, rubbing and lightly pinching your nipple. You bite your lip before any embarrassing sound can escape, and Abby would find it endearing, but she wants to hear you. 

“Hey, I wanna hear. Let it out. Let me know that I'm making you feel good.” Abby pants. Her cock rubs against your clit just right and you whimper quietly. “Yeah. Good.”

“If you call me- fuck! If you call me good girl I'll-”

“What? You'll cum?”

You buck your hips and glare at Abby: and she knows you're playful, but she's also scared of hurting you with unnecessary teasing. 

“Do you want me to call you a good girl?” Abby asks genuinely and you get all flustered, not answering her question. 

Abby kisses you behind your ear and you shudder. God her cock feels good and it's not even inside you yet, it's absolutely not fair. It is also unfair that Abby makes you feel good and you're doing nothing, so you slide your hands under her shirt and hold her sides, stroking them with your thumb. Abby's pace stutters and you grin. 

“You're a menace.” Abby growls and pinches your nipples a little harder. 

Her grinding gets quicker, bringing you closer to your orgasm. You wish you didn't have two layers of clothing between you, that you could feel Abby for real. 

“Abby-” You whimper her name and Abby grunts, her hand squeezing your tit almost painfully. Her thrusts become erratic and you feel like you're on fire: Abby is cumming, her scent spiking with pleasure. She is going to cum because you said her name, oh god. “Abby, please-” You whimper again and Abby moans, her other hand gripping the blanket you're laying on. Her hips shake as she keeps grinding against you and you buck your hips, wanting to cum with her. 

“Call me-” You ask Abby, desperate, hoping she will understand. 

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl-” Abby growls and you cum with a quiet shriek, your thighs closing on Abby. She watches you like she's obsessed, like she is witnessing a miracle, and her dick keeps twitching and soiling her pants. 

It takes a minute for both of you to even out your breathing, and then you laugh, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“Wow. You're so fucking hot.” You tell Abby and she kisses your tit through your shirt. “Do you think when we get to real sex it will feel even better?”

“Just because I didn't put my dick in you doesn't mean this wasn't real sex, babe.” Abby murmurs, tired. “Who knows. Maybe you'll try it and feel like this is better. There's only one way to find out.” 

You huff fondly and run your fingers across Abby's shoulders. 

“Have you ever been with virgins before?”

Abby hums in agreement. 

“A few. It was cool.”

“Was it awkward?” You ask out of curiosity: you don't feel awkward with Abby at all. She is your comfort person.

“I mean, not really. It was when one of them didn't tell me she was a virgin and I hurt her. So you know, thanks for telling me.”

“O wow. That must've sucked.”

“Well, we stopped and I ate her out in the end.”

“Oh.” You feel your face warming up. 

Abby catches your little “oh” and looks up, curious. She thinks back to her words and grins. 

“Wanna try? I'd love to eat you out.” 

“Yeah. Sounds great.” You laugh, cringing at yourself kindly. “I feel like we won't go all the way before my heat with all of these things you can show me.”

“We're not going to rush. We'll find plenty of ways to fuck anyway, so if you want me to be with you during your heat, we'll figure it out.” 

“Of course I want you to be with me, you dum-dum. You're my alpha.”

Abby wiggles on top of you and you kiss her head. 

“You're a fucking simp.”

Abby bites your shoulder and you bite her too. 

Now that you two are being more close than before you started dating, you finally feel the pull to mark Abby and glare at other omegas - of course they want Abby, she is fucking perfect, but she is yours. 

You have it on good authority. Abby told you. Herself.

You start scenting Abby and she beams every time. She also notices your glares and she can't be happier - she loves when you get possessive. One night she teaches you how to leave hickeys, and you leave an absolutely gigantic one - you really opened your mouth wide for this one - and Abby, who is notorious for having no shame, feels the need to cover that one up because it's scandalous. You grin, satisfied, every time you look at it and Abby gives up. She stops wearing her turtlenecks. 

After a few months, the campus finally accepts that Abby Anderson is now taken. Omegas stop looking at her like they have a chance, but keep looking at her like she is a god. You don't mind. 

After that time when Abby made you both cum in your pants, you grow impatient. You don't rush with the whole penetration thing - you’ve felt how big Abby is and it is intimidating - but you want to get naked. You want to feel Abby’s skin, and feel her with your lips and feel her lips on you. (You might wanna grind on her cock as well)

“I wanna take my shirt off.” You tell Abby when you're making out in your living room: Abby is half lying on the couch while you're on top of her. 

“Please do.” Abby smirks. 

“I want you to take off your shirt as well.”

Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs her shirt off and then helps you take yours off. Abby stares for a moment, mesmerised by your tits - she knew you didn't have a bra on - they're pretty, they're soft and Abby really wants to play with your nipples and see if you'd be sensitive too when she will use her mouth. 

“Holy fuck, doll. You're fucking beautiful.” Abby marvels and brushes her fingers over your warm skin, going from your shoulders to your hips. 

“Take your bra off.” You nod at Abby's last defence and she takes it off so quickly she almost gets stuck in it. You lie down, pressing your chest on her chest and it feels so good. Abby is so warm and yes, she is pure muscle, her abs and chest are very defined, but she is still very soft. You kiss her shoulder right above her collarbone and Abby grips your waist harder. “Does it feel good?” 

“Yeah.” Abby sighs, happy. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“I want to get fully naked.”

“Jesus Christ.” Abby swallows. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“I thought maybe I should take you on that offer to eat me out?”

The way Abby's eyes don't take even a second to become bright red makes you giggle. Abby tries to suppress her desire to make you submit to her, but you feel her alpha presence getting stronger and more suffocating than ever. You nuzzle into her neck and Abby growls quietly, like a teenager - but you know she is fighting herself on just doing everything her way. You know it's tempting - you can't say you haven't fantasied about Abby just pinning you down and fucking you until you can't take it anymore - but Abby does have amazing self-control. Even if her presence tells you how much she wants to just bend you over and fuck you through this couch, her hands are gentle and she doesn't move. 

“But first let's just get naked.” You smile and Abby nods. 

You both strip completely and you just stare at each other. Your cheeks burn as you trace Abby with your eyes: her long legs, muscular thighs, her half-hard cock with curly blonde pubes around it, the v-line of her hips, her abs, perky little tits, her round, muscular shoulders, her arms. God, her arms. Soft, strong fingers, veiny wrists from lifting weights, chiselled forearms, the curves of her biceps and triceps. Abby looks like a god, her blonde hair almost like a halo, liquid gold around her. You don't want to stop looking, trying to see every mole and every scar on her. 

You get so stuck staring at Abby you don't have a moment to get self-conscious, but then Abby reaches for your hand and the spell breaks. You realise you were just standing there, fully naked, in front of a literal Greek goddess, and your insecurities flare up.

“I really need to hit the gym, huh.” You try to joke, but Abby doesn't buy it. 

“You're perfect.” Abby says with all the love she has in her heart. “I’m so privileged to get to see you like this.”

You chuckle, but hug Abby around her neck as she kisses you softly. She holds your waist, but as you're kissing, her hands start wandering over your hips, your back, stopping at your sides just to feel your curves. It feels good, having her warm strong hands all over you, and you press closer, feeling Abby's cock poke your stomach. Abby hums into the kiss and gently grabs your ass, messaging it. 

“Bedroom?” Abby asks in a raspy voice and you nod. 

You giggle as you walk to the bedroom holding hands, fully naked, and Abby chuckles at you - she loves how much fun you have, how comfortable you are with her. You're still nervous, but you don't smell sour anymore, and it's all Abby needs. 

You climb the bed and watch Abby climb after you with a smile, opening your arms for her as she lies on top of you. You feel her cock and you can't help yourself - you buck your hips and sigh.

“Stop it.” Abby laughs and you buck your hips again. Abby gets harder and her grip on your waist gets tighter. “I'm gonna get you for that.” 

“Yeah?”

Abby wants your cocky smile gone, so she leans to your neck and sucks a hickey into your skin, making you squeak and shudder under her. Abby smiles, her canines grazing your skin and you feel yourself getting wet. Abby is so damn hot. 

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

“Yes, fuck-” You sigh and pet Abby on her head, weaving your fingers into her hair. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah.” 

Abby starts leaving kisses all over your shoulders and chest, avoiding your tits at first, but then she feels confident enough to wrap her lips around your nipple and you gasp. Abby can smell how wet you're getting and she growls, her control slipping away. 

She can't help it: you're pretty, pliant under her, you make the best noises and you're hers. She wants to sink her teeth in you. 

“Fuck, it feels good.” You sigh like you're surprised. Abby chuckles and sucks on your nipple making you sigh louder, not moaning yet, but not quiet anymore. “Are yours this sensitive too?” You manage to ask and then you yelp when Abby gently bites you. 

“Yeah.” Abby frowns when she sees your excited eyes. “No, right now you're just going to lie and be pretty for me.”

Your breath hitches - your body relaxes immediately and your head falls down on the pillow. You feel all fuzzy and horny, ready to do whatever Abby tells you to do, whatever your alpha tells you to do. Your thighs relax and Abby presses closer, her abs pressing against your cunt. The change in your behaviour is so sudden Abby slows down and looks at you, only to groan helplessly: your eyes are golden and pleading, inviting her to destroy you. 

“Breathe.” Abby tells you and you breathe for a minute. Your head gets clearer and the golden of your eyes fades away. 

“What the fuck was that?” You pant, surprised. You don't smell scared or anxious, and Abby can breathe easier.

“I accidentally used my voice on you.” 

“Uh. Okay. So that's how it feels. Cool. Good to know.” Abby laughs and you laugh too before tugging her up and kissing her. Abby is getting impatient, so she breaks the kiss and resumes her trail down your body. She licks your nipple and you squeak again, but then she goes lower, kissing your stomach with an open mouth, biting you gently, while her hands bend your legs. Abby is so close to your pulsing cunt she has to force herself to be slow, and judging by how your scent changes just a little sour, it's for the best. 

“This is embarrassing.” You laugh and cover your eyes when Abby finally moves down and puts your legs on her shoulders. 

Abby kisses your thigh, ignoring the scent of your dripping pussy - she wants to bury her face in you - and then she blows a raspberry on your skin. You jump and laugh, glaring at Abby fondly, but she only blows another one. 

“This is very unsexy of you.”

“Not true. I can smell how horny you're. You liked it.” Abby smirks, noticing how the sour smell left your scent almost completely.

You huff, but all your giggles stop when Abby kisses your thigh lower - you can feel her hair tickling your pussy. She moves lower and you fist the blanket under you: even feeling Abby's head move between your legs is already a lot. But it also so fucking hot, and then you feel her breath on your pubic bone and you grip her hair tighter.

“You smell so fucking good.” Abby says reverently, dragging her nose over your pussy. You're tense, so fucking tense under her, but you don't smell like you're distressed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it's just a lot. Every time you move I feel it so intensely.” 

“Take a breath for me and relax.” You listen to Abby and breathe out, relaxing. 

Abby is slow: she kisses all around your pussy, the junction of your thighs, your lips, your pubic bone. You're suffocating in her scent, you feel already devoured by her with the heavy scent of possession and dominance filling your nose. It helps you relax and Abby finally opens your thighs so she could eat you out properly. Her eyes are red and she can't help her growling - god, if you ever want to mate her she'll leave her bite right between your legs, because this pussy is hers. 

Abby licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and you jump, your grip in Abby's hair tight.

“Fuck!” 

Abby doesn't listen anymore: she tasted you and her brain waved goodbye. She licks all of your pussy, rubs your clit gently while you whine above her. You can't keep your legs open, caging her between your thighs, so Abby wraps her arms around them and pins you down, her instincts going berserk with the want to keep you under her control. 

You look at her biceps bulging and roll your eyes in pleasure, letting the word “alpha” escape your mouth. 

Abby's brain short-circuits and she moans into your cunt, humping the bed. You buck your hips in response but she just presses you down and shoves her tongue inside you, moaning at your taste. You squeak and get up on your elbows, overwhelmed: it's too much and absolutely not enough, having Abby's mouth on you, hearing all the noises she makes because of you, smelling her scent dominating you. It's good, it's so good and you feel so empty, you need to have her inside you.

“Abby- fuck-” You screw your eyes shut when she sucks on your clit. “I wanna- want a finger.”

Abby looks up and you fall back on the bed after meeting her feral eyes: you submit to her fully, and Abby smirks, satisfied. Abby moves away and watches your soaked pussy for a moment before caressing it with her fingers, making you twitch when she touches your clit. 

“How many do you usually use?” Abby rasps.

“Two.” You whimper. Abby hums and slowly, very slowly, pushes one finger inside. 

“God, baby.” Abby sighs dreamingly. “So tight.”

“I'm a virgin, Abby.” You giggle, but feeling Abby inside distracts you.

Abby tries not to think how you'll feel around her dick, so hot and tight, clenching around her, but even a glimpse of it makes her hump the bed. She watches your face as you get used to having someone else's finger inside of you, and then she curls her finger gently. You gasp, and nod, humming in approval.

Abby starts moving her finger and curling it, seeing your cum collect at the base of her finger. It takes you little time before you relax and Abby pushes the second finger in. It's tighter and Abby doesn't move her fingers when she smells a faint scent of hurt. 

“Hurts?”

“I like it.” You say shortly, because you do like feeling how Abby stretches you. You think about her dick stretching you and you clench around Abby's fingers, making her growl, her self-control crumbling.

You don't need Abby to be careful, but she still is, curling her fingers gently. You're moaning quietly on every curl and the hurt evaporates from your scent - it's beautiful. Abby puts her mouth back on you and you whine when her thrusts inside you match the pace of her tongue on your clit. 

“Oh my god you'll make me cum.” You whimper and Abby groans, her humping gets more aggressive. You fist the blanket in your fingers, feeling your lower stomach tensing in approaching orgasm. “Shit, oh my god, Abby, please-” 

You grip her hair tighter, practically shoving her face into your cunt and Abby moans again: she loves feeling your fingers in her hair, loves hearing you beg. 

It takes one more gentle curl for your whole body to tense and a loud whimper to escape your throat. Your scent spikes in euphoria and Abby groans when she feels how you pulsate around her fingers. She drags her cock over the covers and shudders, too turned on, while she watches your face. You're fucking divine like this, cumming on her fingers, the only thing keeping you still is Abby's grip on your hips. 

“Abby, oh my god, fuck!” You moan and your hips jump when Abby sucks on your clit, but the pleasure starts to hurt. “It's too much, please-”

Abby moves away and watches your cunt flutter around her fingers rhythmically, drenching her hand. She is spellbound, and for a moment you two are in separate worlds: you're coming down from your high and she is somewhere in her darkest fantasies. Abby will never hurt you, but she cannot not think about fucking you right now, pushing inside you and not letting you escape her, splitting you on her cock. 

You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but then you look at Abby and gulp: her eyes are so dark with something hot and dangerous. It makes you shudder and you remember that she hasn't cum yet. 

“Abby-” Her sharp eyes look up and you feel like you're in front of a predator. “Come here, baby.” 

Abby climbs on top of you, her fingers still trapped inside you, and you kiss her. You feel her cock poking your thigh and suddenly you’re overcome with the need to make her to cum. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad.” Abby admits and licks your neck, half-feral.

“I wanna make you cum.” You tell her and kiss her temple. “Lie down.”

Abby slowly takes her fingers out of you and licks them clean, making your face burn, but you don't stay embarrassed long: Abby lies on her back and you're presented with the magnificence that she is. 

“I'll need your help.” You tell her: even though you're very turned on, you're still intimidated. For a moment you feel like you bit more than you could chew, but Abby gently pets your head and nods.

“Of course. Don't push yourself, doll.” 

You feel easier after that and lean down to kiss Abby's scent glands. She squeezes your thigh and hums in pleasure. You move lower, kissing her sternum and then, like under some spell, you latch onto her nipple. Abby twitches and moans quietly, and your ears ring: it was one thing hearing Abby groan when she was between your legs, and another thing knowing it's your direct actions that make her moan. 

Your eyes fall on her stomach, where the precum is glistening, dripping from her hard, wet cock. Abby is big, fuck she is big, and you mouth salivates. You try not to think how it's going to fit in you one day, but right now you really want to fit it in your mouth. 

You crawl between her legs and Abby gulps while her fingers grab your hair. She is not guiding your head, letting you control the pace. You wrap your fingers around her cock and Abby hisses, so turned on by seeing your hand on her dick. You look up, panicking that you hurt her, but Abby's scent only spikes with joy. 

“Tighter, baby.” Abby pants and you listen, eagerly wrapping your hand tighter and pumping her cock. Abby starts panting, her chest heaving, and you smile. 

“I love seeing you like this.” You murmur and then, in a sudden wave of bravery, you lean down, licking the head of her dick. Abby grips your hair tighter, almost causing pain, but you don't care. 

You take your time to adjust to the velvet soft texture and the salty taste, but the more you lick, the more addicted you get, especially smelling her growing arousal, her desire to break you. 

“Shit, baby.” Abby growls and very lightly pushes your head down: you don't even register it at first, but then you eagerly swallow her down, as much as you can take. Abby moans and her thighs shake: your mouth is hot and wet, and Abby breathes through her nose to not cum immediately. 

You notice and grin before sucking on her head, whirling your tongue slowly. Abby groans, soft delicate sounds falling from her lips and you look up to her, making eye contact.

“I won't last long, babe.” Abby growls and you wiggle your butt, delighted. “Yeah? You like the thought that you can make me cum so soon?” You hum in agreement and Abby's head falls on the pillow. “Shit!” 

This is interesting. You keep moaning around Abby's cock, sucking her off as best as you can, and then you cup her balls gently, scared to hurt her. Abby moans, loud, and you wish you had something inside you right now to compensate for emptiness Abby’s fingers left in you. It's so hot seeing Abby coming undone, Abby, who probably had way better blowjobs in her life, but because it's you, it turns her into a teenager.

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum.” Abby moans and you hum again. “Fuck!” 

You let Abby cum in your mouth, even though you don't know quite what to expect - but you feel her balls tighten and her cock pulsate as your mouth gets filled with her cum, and you don’t move away, too greedy. It's a lot, but it's not unpleasant, although you can't keep up and swallow everything. You let her dick out of your mouth and a few spurts end up on your face. 

Abby pants and moans, watching your surprised face: she laughs through her moans and wipes your cheek with a shaking hand. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

You grin and flop on top of Abby, kissing her. You both are covered in cum, and it makes you giggle, knowing you're gonna smell like each other for the next few days.

“Love you.” Abby murmurs, sleepy: she always wants to nap after sex. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Can't wait for you to fuck me properly.”

“Whenever you want, babe. Whenever you want.”

It's ironic, but you have your first “real” sex (cue’s Abby's eye roll) in the morning. It's Saturday and you both sleep in: Abby's holding you close even in her sleep, her arm wrapped around your waist. You wake up earlier than Abby and giggle: not the first time when you wake up with Abby's hard cock pressing into you. You have no idea what she is dreaming about, but you hope it's you. 

And this time, you can actually do something about it. You snuggle closer to her and kiss Abby's scent glands, making her sigh. It makes you grin and you snake your hand down into her boxers, lightly brushing your fingertips over her cock. Abby sighs again and bucks her hips, seeking more, but you stop and kiss her neck again.

“Abby.” You call sweetly, not wanting to startle her, and she hums. “Wake up.”

“What's up?”

“Your dick.”

Abby laughs at this and you smile, happy. 

“Wanna do something about it?” 

You hum and stroke Abby's cock gently, feather like - the quickest way to get her worked up. Her scent gets heavier and you chuckle, gripping her cock tighter. Abby grunts and sneaks her arm behind your back, prodding at your hole - you're wet, your thighs are sticky with your cum.

“Got yourself worked up, huh?” Abby asks, her voice still sleepy and raspy. You nod and wiggle your butt, trying to get her fingers inside you. “How about you ride me?”

You gulp, suddenly extremely turned on, your scent getting thicker with desire, and Abby moves the blanket away. She helps you straddle her and you part your lips so they're on either side of Abby's cock, your clit dragging over her length. It's hot, you love covering Abby in your cum, feeling extremely possessive over her. 

Abby holds your hips in her strong hands and guides your moves on top of her, keeping them slow. You both pant and moan, you twitch when Abby pinches your nipple under your shirt. 

“Take it off.” Abby growls and you smile, a little fuzzy from her voice: she can't always control it, ordering you around. You throw your shirt somewhere and Abby grunts: seeing you on top of her, confident, safe, giggling and moaning, is the best view in her life. 

Abby squeezes your sides when your clit catches on the head of her cock, and when you slide up, you feel her poking your hole. It sends a hot wave down your spine and you try to do it again, slowing down every time you grind back, making Abby's cock press into you. 

Abby catches up on your actions and moans: you are a menace. She wishes you pushed a little harder, pulled her inside, into your tight, hot cunt. 

“Abby-”

“Yeah, baby?” Abby pants, watching your determined face. 

“Fuck me.”

Abby blinks and digs her fingers into your thighs, so fucking turned on: you want to take her. She will finally claim you, she will be the first (and the last) person you trust with this. You still smell a little nervous, but Abby learnt to read it by now: when you're good nervous and bad nervous. This seems to be a "good nervous" scent.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Abby brings you down and kisses you, kneading your ass so you could keep grinding against her, her scent quickly growing agressive. She pushes one finger in carefully and you moan, desperate.

“Abby, please-” You beg and Abby gulps, fighting for her self-control. 

She turns you both and slides down to put her mouth on you, and you whimper when Abby gently sucks on your clit. You're wet and you smell like her, your scents mixing together. It drives Abby crazy: she wants to mate you so fucking bad, she wants you to be hers for the rest of your lives. 

You take two of her fingers easily, dripping down her palm after all these times Abby fingered you, and Abby licks up all of your cum, addicted to your taste. But then Abby presses the third finger in and you grip her hair, excited. It goes tighter, but you love it - you even get a little sad when the sting of the stretch passes. Abby curls her fingers and you jump, dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Abby- Don't- don't make me cum.” You beg through your moans and Abby looks up.

“Why?”

“Want to cum on your cock.”

Abby would laugh if it didn't turn her on so much. She sucks your clit on purpose and you jump before tugging on her hair.

“I swear to god-” You start your threat but Abby curls her fingers, making you squeak. 

But Abby slows down: she wants you dripping, relaxed and blissed out before she fucks you. She keeps moving her fingers slowly while she licks and sucks on your pussy, and you sigh sweetly above her, your grip on her hair relaxing. Abby is almost lazy, but she watches you intently. You're wet, your cum mixed with her saliva and Abby moans quietly, getting off on the fact that she marked you. Your thighs start twitching soon, and you tug on Abby's hair again. 

“Come here.” You ask, and Abby obeys. She slowly takes her fingers out and kisses you, letting you taste yourself. You moan when you feel Abby's taste lingering as well.

“You're so beautiful.” Abby murmurs into your neck as she nuzzles you, wanting to comfort you and make you feel safe. 

You nuzzle back, grinning: you love how Abby takes care of you. You hug her shoulders and kiss her gently, slowing down as well. Abby snakes her hand between your bodies and slowly circles your clit with her thumb, watching intently as your face changes from pleasure; she tries not to overwhelm you. You sigh softly and Abby chuckles into your shoulder.

“You're cute.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh, embarrassed. Abby laughs too and kisses your tit before gently sucking on your nipple. You thread your fingers through Abby's hair and arch into her. “I love you.”

Abby's scent spikes and you giggle. 

“Love you so much.” She whispers feverishly into your skin. 

She takes a pillow and puts it under your butt, making you comfortable. Both of your clothes are around you and you feel extremely safe. It's Abby, it's your alpha, she will take care of you. You spread your legs and Abby parts your folds, replacing her thumb with her cock. You sigh and shake under her, too sensitive. You love when you grind against each other: it's so intimate and perfect. You know Abby loves it too, your slick making the best sounds for Abby's ears. 

You watch Abby frown and bite her lip to not make any sounds, so you kiss her, not letting her hide from you. Your clit catches on the head of her cock again and you both moan. 

“Come on, baby.” You encourage Abby and she nods, lining up her cock with your hole. 

“If I smell hurt, we're stopping.” She warns you and you nod. You don't want your alpha to know she hurt you during your most vulnerable time either.

Abby doesn't push right away, just lightly pressing on the edges of your hole like you did it yourself before, but when she gets the head of her cock wet enough, she pushes harder. 

“God.” Abby sighs, feeling your tight walls squeeze her cock. You don't smell like pain so Abby pushes further while you cling to her shoulders. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

You hum, but you're too concentrated on your own feelings: Abby is so big and it's a lot, it's intense and feels so different from her fingers. You're thankful she doesn't go all the way in, giving you time. Abby slowly pushes back and forth, fucking your gently until all of her length is inside you, and you relish in the feeling of her being in you. Abby bottoms out and you cling to her, turned on from being so full, so stretched. It doesn't hurt but it still stings a little - and you like it. You like knowing Abby is a little too big for you. 

“I'm gonna cum.” You whine when Abby slowly thrusts inside. You need one little touch to your clit and you'll come undone, you're sure of it. “Slowly, yeah?”

Abby nods and kisses you as she slowly fucks you; she doesn't go all the way out, letting you get used to it. You moan softly as she moves, her cock touching every nerve ending in your walls. 

“Good?” Abby asks, and you understand that she is nervous. Your heart swells with affection and your scent spikes with love.

“Perfect.” You smile and kiss her. “You can go harder.”

Abby grips your thighs and thrusts hard enough to punch the air out of you. You choke on your moan and Abby pulls out, watching her cock glisten with your cum. It makes her feral and she gets more confident, fucking you harder, letting her hips slap against yours. It's intense and you can't think, overwhelmed by how good it feels, so you let your brain go all fizzy.

“Fuck, Abby, please.” You whine desperately and Abby swallowa, gripping you harder. She doesn't want to hurt you, but you start bucking your hips, trying to get Abby deeper and that's it. 

Abby’s scent changes: it’s suffocating now, bending you to her will, dark and possessive. Abby pins your thighs to the bed and starts hammering inside you, growling on every thrust. She knows you can take it, smells your pleasure, so Abby doesn't restrain herself. She fucks you hard and fast, listening to your whines and whimpers with the only thought in her head:

“Mine.” Abby growls and you bare your throat for her like a good little omega you are. “You were made for my cock, taking it so well on your first try, huh? Good fucking girl.” Abby leans down and sucks a hickey into your scent glands, claiming you.

Your eyes roll into your skull and you claw at Abby's shoulders, so desperate. You're close, but your brain is a mush and you can only beg. Abby smirks and moves her hand down your thigh so she can hold you open and flick your clit with her thumb. 

You shake and cum with a loud moan, spasming around Abby's cock, and she groans. Abby bottoms out and stills, letting herself feel it, how your walls trap her inside. It's better than any of the fantasies she had before: not only you're so tight around her, but you're also so fucking pretty, with her mark blooming on your neck, your throat still bared. You're vulnerable, trusting, and Abby feels honoured she can get you to this point. But then she gets hungry. She starts moving again, and you're lost in your pleasure now: your head is so fuzzy, your cunt is full with your alpha's cock, and all you want now is for Abby to cum deep inside you, claiming you. 

“I'm yours, fuck-” You squeal when Abby thrusts especially deep. 

Abby chuckles and starts thumbing your clit, eager to make you cum again. 

“And I'm yours, pretty girl.” Abby sighs, getting hazy with her own devotion to you, the smell of love almost overpowering lust. “Cum.”

You close your thighs around Abby and cum again, not able to disobey her. It's a neat trick, having Abby use her voice on you, making you even more turned on. Abby moans softly as she tries to fuck you through your orgasm, but you spasm right on her head and she cums with a groan, bottoming out, painting your walls with her cum. You’re still pulsating around her, milking Abby’s cock and she pushes even deeper, until you choke on your moan and press on her shoulder to stop her, but you’re so deliciously tight Abby can’t help herself. She digs her nails into your inner thighs and pulls out just to see her cock covered in your and her cum, mixed together. 

“So fucking pretty.” Abby growls and pushes back in, overstimulating herself. You feel her twitch inside you, and you sigh, also overstimulated.

You're shaking, but you still find some strengh to bring Abby closer, burying your nose in her neck, whining and panting into her ear while she sinks her teeth into your shoulder gently, not causing any pain. 

“Jesus.” You pant as your head clears up. 

“Are you okay?” Abby asks and you chuckle: there she is, your caring soft alpha.

“I’m fucking floating in space, Abby.”

“Good.”

You lie like this for a few minutes before Abby pulls out - you wince, sore, and Abby comforts you with kisses. She insists on helping you in the shower and brings you her softest clothes, and you tease her for being so whipped. Abby rolls her eyes and puts her hoodie on you. It hurts to sit just a bit, but you don’t mind and hiss at Abby when she tries to make it easier for you. 

You’re hers, your body and soul, and you want the evidence of it to be constant. 

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #alpha!abby #it feels like a letter to my younger self for some reason

[userlando]

Oh that made me think of lando and bestie play fighting and he puts his hand around her throat as a joke and then she just thrusts into him and it’s a moment ?? You know… I’m thinking too much brainrot toniight

I hope you don’t mind that I wrote a little something on this because whewwww the way it made me feel 😭

lando norris/female!reader (937 words)

Lando is bored. He’s got your feet in his lap, you’re wiggling your toes and the movement of them under your socks is more entertaining than the movie you’d chosen to watch. It wasn’t that he didn’t like romcoms, he just needed to do something else or he would literally die of boredom.

But still, the wistful sigh that escapes your lips makes him look up and you’re not even looking at him; Eyes trained on the television screen as Sally and Harry interact.

“What?” Lando asks because clearly you’re thinking about something and he’s dying to know what.

You gesture vaguely at the screen without tearing your eyes away, like he’s supposed to know what you’re sighing and fawning over. Lando pinches your big toe and you wiggle them out of his grasp in annoyance.

“He’s so fit.” You say simply and Lando glanced at the Harry character.

He’s sporting a funny looking beard now and there’s clearly been a time jump in the movie that Lando wasn’t paying attention to. He eyes the man dubiously before arching his brows at you.

“This guy?” His voice goes up an octave. “He looks like a nut.”

That makes you look at him, rolling your eyes in fond exasperation and something expands in Lando’s chest when he realises that he finally has your attention. If only for a brief moment. He thinks that it should probably concern him how needy he is to get your attention, but he can’t bring himself to care much.

“He does not!” Your voice goes high too, in indignation and it makes him stifle a smile. “You’re just jealous because he can grow a beard and you can’t.”

Now it’s Lando’s turn to look offended, smacking an open palm against his chest as if your words physically wounded him and it makes you smile despite yourself. You point your foot and jab your toe into his stomach softly.

“How fucking dare you.” He says with no real heat behind it, biting back a smile when you giggle. “My beard is scrumptious.”

“Scrum—“ You guffaw and throw your head back. “You call that a beard.”

“Oh, you better take that back.”

He sits up straighter now, gleeful that you’re not hushing him for speaking over the movie you’d quite literally seen a million times before. You retract your legs from his lap when you realise that he’s flexing his fingers dramatically, and you know what’s coming before he even makes a move.

“No— Oof.” The breath punches out of your lungs in a squeal when he jumps, landing painfully on you and it feels like he’s reached into your throat and pulled out your lungs when he starts tickling you.

The squeals of laughter triggers his giggling, and you know that you must look like a pair of maniacs as you squirm around on his bed with unintelligible words being screamed out between breathless laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy!” You yell, doing your utmost to kick him off but he only fights harder.

He’s clearly fully intent on making you pass out from the lack of oxygen and just when you’re about to buck him off with all your might, he stops.

There’s a moment where you pant, grinning at each other and he looks like an idiot as he looms above you; Hair in disarray and cheeks flushed. But you figure that you’re looking very much like him and the thought of it makes you giggle.

“Do you take it back?” He asks and it takes a second for you to understand what he’s talking about, shaking your head.

“Never.” You reply, as if he hadn’t just tickled you within an inch of your life.

You squirm when he tickles your sides, way more gentle than before and there’s uncontrollable laughter bubbling up your throat when he reaches a hand out to circle it around your neck. He digs his fingers in a little and you swear that the room spins for a moment as he stares down at you.

“Say that I have a better beard.” There’s a threat in his tone that makes you giggle nervously, placing your hands on his forearm in an attempt to keep him from reaching down to tickle your sides. “Say it.”

“I’m not a liar.” You grin up at him when he narrows his eyes playfully, the blues disappearing into slits and it looks so funny that you squirm to stop yourself from laughing.

He puts a little pressure around your throat and the feeling that zips down your spine shocks you, so much so that you buck your hips up in a poor attempt to get him off of you. But it only makes him press right against you and the unexpected hardness you feel makes you both pause.

“Are you…?” You trail off, looking between his eyes as his cheeks slowly turn pink. “Are you hard?”

“No?” He says a little too quickly and you purse your lips to keep the smile from your face. “Piss off.”

He’s quick to scramble off of you, sitting down next to you with a bounce on the mattress and you stare up at the ceiling in silence. Your heart is hammering a little too hard and you chance a glance at Lando to find him already looking at you. He averts his eyes and you smile.

“For the record…” You clear your throat when he inconspicuously grabs the nearest pillow and places it strategically in his lap. “You do have a nice beard.”

“Knew it.” He muttered, but there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing a drabble. it’s been a while but we back baby!!

#zee’s asks 💌 #lando brainrot #lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris

[alwaysmoncheri]

hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

<3

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

<3

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ──★ ˙☕️ ̟ !! #masterlist #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot

[alientee]

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit Reader Part 2

You and Alastor are walking down the street and you couldn't help but hold him even closer if possible. Everyone was staring at you, some even stopping in the middle of the street to gawk at you both. You look at Alastor to see if he's noticing the same thing but he couldn't be bothered. "Honey where are we going" Alastor smiles down at you "A lovely little place called Cannibal town. Is similar to our time line."

You look up at him nervously. "Are you sure its alright for me to be there darling... will someone try to..eat me" Alastor stops walking lifting your chin up. "Well darling you are delectable enough to eat, but rest assured anyone who comes near you with that motive will be slaughtered where they stand. Besides there's someone I would like you too meet"

You sigh placing a hand on his chest "I trust you honey" He pats your head "Good now look alive we are almost there." You walk into a nice clean town that looks true to his word somewhat similar to when you and Alastor were alive. You see many of the people working and keeping the town clean, it didn't seem like hell at all. Alastor brings you both into a nice looking shop and opens the door for you. You walk in the store and it seems so nice and cozy on the inside.

"Alastor?! oh alastor what a surprise!" A grey woman with black eyes and sharp teeth comes up towards alastor hugging him tightly "And who is this you brought with you, your such a charmer Alastor this is the second time you've come to my store with a woman in tow. And a angel no less what a surprise this is. " Alastor brings you closer to him "This treasure is my lovely wife, y/n this is Rosie one of my good friends and one hell of a overlord." Rosie looked at you with shock on her face "Your wife?! And here I thought you were an ace in the hole." Rosie laughs while Alastor just looks confused. "I still don't know what that means" You snicker. “Hate to break it to you but he still is.” Rosie grabs you both. "Come in come in we have MUCH to discuss."

Rosie takes you two to a back room with more privacy. She pulls out a small box offering it to you. "Would you like some pinky fingers hun, not that you need them your figure is to die for." You quickly but kindly refuse. "Ohhh no thank you I don't have my husbands taste for flesh hehe." Rosie put them away looking at Alastor smugly. "Oh Alastor don't tell me you thought she looked pretty enough to eat but you just couldn't do it could you? You fell too hard to soon haha"

Alastor looks at Rosie smile still on with his eyes closed. "I can assure you I never thought of such a thing" Rosie scoffs a little "You can't fool me Alastor a doll like her, you must've fantasized about a taste once an a while." You can hear the static in Alastors voice rise. "Rosie, do believe me when I say I have not, please." Rosie seems to pick up on the change of mood. "I see well tell me how you to met, I can't imagine old alastor here pulling a gal like you he's so reserved when he wants to be, no offense hon"

"Oh well we met in a jazz club and he was just dancing his heart out. I guess he had had to much whiskey because he asked me to dance and I said yes. He pulled me all over the dance floor. I was surprised I could keep up with him, next thing you know he's coming to my shows given me flowers with full blushed face and a nervous wide smile. He had me charmed being such a gentleman especially with that accent." Rosie looks even more intrigued "Alastor has an accent? Now this is news to me, where is it." You gave Alastor a look."That's what id like to know, honey?"

Alastor's smile drops a little but not by much "Well in radio you have to talk proper and clearly to give your audience a good show" You roll your eyes but let it go and keep talking to Rosie. You like her she's very kind and inviting you can see why Alastor is fond of her. Rosie gives you a hug saying if you ever saw each other again she had to get all the gossip on Alastor. As you and him are leaving he stops for a moment lifting up your chin with his finger. "So ya missed this cher?"

You blushed moving your head away. "Alastor don't you start" All he did was chuckle at you. "Why not? ya missed my accent so much. I remember how I made you shiver when I talked to ya nice." You looked at alastor a playful glare in your eyes. "Its been to long since we've been apart but I think we both know your not…. How the kids say, about that life." He looks at you funny before linking your arms. “I’ll never understand all the phrases that come up today always a diffrent one each time.”

When you roll your eyes at him his smile gets wider kissing your forehead. "Lets go to our next destination" You feel him put his arm over your shoulder leading you forward. "Which is?" "A theme Park named LuLu World, we didn't have one of those when we were alive." you nodded "Oh yes the first one came out when I was in my 80's. I could never go see it for myself." Alastor pulled you along faster "Well wait no longer here we are!" You look around and its nothing but bright colorful lights, contraptions you'd never seen and loads of food everywhere with people in costumes.

"Oh wow this is a lot to take in" Alastor grabs your hand holding it tighter than you would've wanted. " Stay very close to me who knows who's watching. Wouldn't want my mon amour to get lost or hurt." You smiled slightly a little worried but ready to have fun.

"I don't know Vox I don't think Tv's should be on rides, you could shatter If your not careful haha" Vox rolled his eyes eating his cotton candy. "Oh fuck you Val, maybe you shouldn't get on a roller coaster, might fly away with those fat ass wings." Valentino flinched " Oh you take that back you wide faced B-!" Velvette pushes herself between both of them. "Hey you lot, while you two are ova here bitchin, that radio demons got a bad bitch on his arm, looks like a angel literally."

Both of them look over to where she was talking about and she was right. There was Alastor walking hand and hand with an angel. Vox pushes forward he couldn't believe this shit. "What the fuck is someone like that doing with Alastor! I'm following him, that old timey prick is up to something. I refuse for him to get ahead of me in what ever the fuck he's doing." The other V's roll their eyes following his league. They ended up following behind the two for a few minutes not realizing that Alastor's shadow had noticed them.When the shadow warned Alastor he clenched his smile, he refused for these idiots to ruin what was a lovely date to his wife.

Alastor uses his shadows to stop them in there place making them all fall on there face. Alastor pushes you on your lower back, speeding up your movement. "Come dear there is so much more to see, look over there a clown show." You turn your head intrigued at the many tricks the clowns showed even if they looked deadly.

Vox gets up angry , his screen slightly buffering. "That fucking coward, I'll give that piece of shit something to smile about." Vox starts looking around trying to find anything heavy but only seeing stuffed animals. Growing frustrated he grabs the first thing that looks heavy and throws it at Alastor. Alastor feels a heavy object smack him right in the back of the head making him fall forward, he catches himself picking up whatever Vox threw ready to smack him in the face with it. He turned around to see Vox flipping him off. "Thats what you get bitch"

His antlers grew with his eyes turning into dials, voodoo symbols surrounding him. " Oh Alastor is that for me!" Alastor turns back to normal, he finally looks at what's in his hand. It's a multicolored glass sculpture of flowers. He took the opportunity to shove them into you with a smile larger than usually. "Of course sweetie, anything for my baby" He pulls you closer flipping Vox and the other two off while walking away.

Both Velvette and Valentino look at Vox while he's fuming. Velvette speaks up first "You know you helped him rizz right?" Vox turns around making a scene "I CAN FUCKING SEE THAT. How in the fuck did he land someone so out of his league, that prudish jackass! It's not fair!" Valentino just looks at them walking away raising an eyebrow. "That virgin is so not hitting that right"

As you and Alastor walk through the theme park you couldn't help but feel a little clingy. Spending this much time together is making you nostalgic. It made you feel like you and Alastor where as happy as you used to be. "Come on Alastor, let's go home, I'll make you some jambalaya." He looks at you with a smile as wide as his eyes right now. He lowers his face to your's his radio static making his voice deeper. "That sounds lovely."

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader

[melodeebarnes]

"Of course, I noticed"

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.

Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.

*No mention of y/n*

It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.

It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.

You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.

You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.

You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-

"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"

Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.

"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.

He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"

"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.

He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.

"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.

Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.

They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.

Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."

You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.

As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.

"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.

You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.

"Thank you, Steve."

"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.

The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.

You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.

Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.

"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.

A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.

However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.

"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.

"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.

"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.

"Trust me, no one wants me there."

"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.

You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.

"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.

"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.

"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.

"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.

"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."

"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"

"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."

"I can't believe you noticed that."

"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.

You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."

He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.

"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.

"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"

"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.

You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."

"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.

"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.

He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.

"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.

He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.

He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.

You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.

"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."

"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.

"Really? But I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."

"It's okay." You smile.

"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.

"But they probably don't want me there." You say.

"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.

"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n