Tumgik
#and while i was looking at my notes for it my brain started panicking at all the things i still want to write for it
nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
Text
andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here
18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 
But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 
He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 
Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 
“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 
“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”
“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”
It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 
“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”
“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”
“Alright. Got your phone handy?”
It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.
“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”
Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 
He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 
But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 
“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”
He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 
“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”
She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 
“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 
She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 
But god, does he think about you like that. 
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 
Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 
But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
“Found it okay?” 
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 
It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 
But. 
That’s all contingent. 
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.
In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t��stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 
Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 
And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 
The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 
If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 
Not again. 
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 
He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 
I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 
554 notes · View notes
ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months
Text
Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Two
Tumblr media
Summary: The morning after the disaster that was your engagement party has got your head pounding and you're not even sure what your next move is gonna be. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5k~ Warnings: Explicit Language (maybe idk I can't remember lol) an argument and idk that's kinda it lol and ofc barely edited lmao a/n: I'm putting out part 2 early as a thank you for all the notes and just the over all interaction you all have given my blog and this story so thank you. I've barely written anything for part 3 so there's gonna be a bigger gap between uploads so forgive me but be sure to check out my other stories as well in the meantime 🥰 Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜
Hearing the birds outside is the first thing that brings me out of the dream state I had been in. I open my eyes and scan my surroundings and notice that I'm still at Jungkook's house. "What happened last night?" I say aloud, rubbing my eyes and sitting up before laying back down, getting an instant head rush.
"Y/n?" I hear Jungkook from the other side of door. "Come in" I say before thinking twice, not remembering anything about what happened last night. "Good morning sunshine" he says quietly, walking in with a glass of water and pain killers and I sit up slowly as he comes closer.
"How did I end up in here?" I ask and wordlessly thank him and take it real quick and start chugging the water while waiting for his response. "I carried you" he replies leaving me choking at the image.
"You carried me in here?" I ask, embarrassed that he had to take care of me like that. "Yeah you pretty much passed out on me so I kinda had to" he laughs, rubbing my back hoping to help me stop coughing. "I'm sorry I kinda don't remember anything" I admit and I see his face fall a little leaving me panicking again.
"Did I do something stupid?" I cringe and he laughs at whatever memory he has leaving me even more nervous. "No don't worry you were just being cute" he teases and I let out a breath I had been holding, thankful I didn't make too much of a fool of myself, or at least by his standards.
"I'm sorry I guess I lost control a bit" I say, looking down at my hands, embarrassed that I had given him so much trouble to deal with. "You know you say sorry a lot for someone who doesn't really have anything to be sorry about" he say and I sigh, not believing his words but not having the energy or brain capacity to argue.
"Hey" he says, tilting my chin up to look at him, you're fine y/n don't worry. I'm just glad you let me be there for you. I couldn't let you leave in the state you were in so thank you for trusting me to take care of you" he says while rubbing his thumb up against my cheek and all I can do in response is blink, so caught off guard by the sudden skin ship.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting go of my chin and taking the water glass from my hand. "Yes and no. Honestly I feel like I'm gonna throw up" I admit without thinking twice. "I mean I-"
"It's okay, you really did drink a lot so I'm not surprised. Let me at least make you some soup so you have something in your system" he says and I nod which satisfies him. "I'll let you know when it's ready" he continues and I nod again, watching as he makes his way out.
I hold my head in my hands, begging for the medicine to kick in so this pounding in my head goes away.  Although I know though that the onset stress of not knowing what happened last night is the real cause of this headache. 'What happened last night?' I question myself silently this time, going through everything that happened yesterday but the part after me coming back inside the house after everyone left is still a little fuzzy.
I sit and think for a little while longer and before I know it Jungkook is knocking on the door again. "Foods ready" he says with a sweet smile making me forget how exactly I'm supposed to respond. "Is everything okay?" he asks, coming to sit on my side of the bed. "I just, I really don't remember what happened last night" I say and he nods and thinks for a second before responding.
"How about this, lets get some food in you first and get you feeling a bit better and then I'll tell you. Okay?" he offers, tilting his head at me and I nod after thinking for a second or two. "Great, now can you get out there on your own or do you think you need some help?" he asks and I quickly go to shut down his offer.
"No Jungkook that's okay I can manage" I say and throw the covers off of me and slowly get up off the bed and I hear him chuckle a bit. "What are you laughing at?" I ask, confused as to if he's making fun of me or not.
"No, no it's nothing. I'm just surprised you called me Jungkook on your own this time" he says as I start to stand and my heart rate picks up, not even realizing I had done that. "Well you wanted me to call you that right?" I ask shyly, but I lose my footing when I stand up, still a bit weak to my dismay but before I have a chance to fall Jungkook catches me and pulls me onto his lap.
"I-" I start but am caught off by the proximity and the memories of last night start to flood my brain and I rest my head on his shoulder just like I did before I passed out.
I groan and he laughs at my reaction, "It all coming back to you isn't it?" he asks and I nod, not daring to make eye contact with him. "I can't believe I asked you to do that. I'm sorry" I say and try to get off his lap but he pull me back on it with his hands that are firmly placed on my hips.
"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong" he says, brushing the hair that had fallen on my face out of the way. If I couldn't breathe before I definitely can't breathe now, especially since I catch him looking down at my lips before quickly flipping them back to my eyes.
"Okay" is all I can manage to choke out and before he's able to do anything else I quickly get up off his lap and walk out of the room, needing to break the tension that had started to build between us.
'What the fuck am I doing? Kissing my best friend...well ex best friend's dad? Like what the fuck is wrong with me?' I walk into the bathroom in the hallway to get an extra five minutes alone so I can try to stop my heart from racing. Who would've thought that in less than twenty four hours I would have a mental breakdown not once, but twice in this same bathroom. 'Why does this shit always have to happen to me?'
After taking a few more breaths and washing my face I walk into the kitchen where I see Jungkook enjoying his morning cup of coffee, or should I say afternoon cup of coffee as I check the clock seeing it's already past two.
"Did I really sleep this late?" I ask, cringing at the thought of yet again inconveniencing him. "Yeah but don't worry I was planning on having a lazy day anyways" he says, reading my mind and motioning for me to sit down at one of the stools on the island he has in his kitchen.
He turns his back to me and starts preparing me a bowl of soup but I can help but check him out, his strong broad shoulders that lead down to his small waist and accompanied by his ass and thick thighs I could just-
"Here you go" he say, placing the bowl in front of me and I quickly bring my eyes to the food he's given me. It smells strangely like home, almost as if my mom had made it for me when I had been sick as a kid. "Thank you" I say quietly and take a bite, moaning at the warm and rich flavor that hits my tongue without even realizing what I'd done.
"That good huh?" he asks while leaning back on one of the counters with his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh- um, yeah. Yes, thank you" I say, quickly tripping over my words but he just smiles before taking another sip of coffee and I quickly go back to eating my soup. This time quietly.
"So what are you planning on doing?" he asks casually after I've finished eating, as if I know what he's talking about. "What do you mean?" I question after taking a drink of water, him having refused to give me a cup of coffee until I had at least drank two cups of water.
"You live with my daughter right?" he questions and my whole mood turns upside down. He takes notice of it and quickly back pedals, "I guess I should've waited for you to wake up a bit more before asking you that" he says, now offering me an apology cup of coffee.
"No it's okay you're right. I probably should figure out what I'm gonna do. To be honest I think I'll move out. Just because being in the same space that I used to spend time with them in just sounds like I'm setting myself up for heartbreak" and he nods at my reasoning but I decide to continue anyways, verbally processing it all.
"If I stay there I'll be reminded of all the good times we had and the many memories we made together and I don't want to be haunted by those images. Plus a fresh start sounds perfect to me" I say and he continues while adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar to my coffee, weirdly.
"So are you just going to stay there until you find a place?" he asks and I think about how awkward it's going to be just working around her until I find that perfect place. "I was thinking I could probably ask my sister if I could crash at her place for a bit" I say thinking of the first solution that comes to mind.
"But doesn't your sister live on the opposite side of the city from your internship?" he questions and I slump at that realization. "You're right. I guess I'll just have to wake up a bit earlier" I say, trying to figure out how to remedy this problem full well knowing it's been hard enough for me to wake up and get there on time even though I only lived ten minutes away.
"Why don't you stay here?" he offers and my whole body straightens up instantly, "You would let me stay here?" I ask, my eyebrows raised as high as they possibly could, surprised that he would even offer something like that and he nods in response.
"You would let me stay here?" I question again, clarifying if I heard him right. "Yeah why not? I've got plenty of space and it's not like we're strangers or anything. Plus your internship is only about ten minutes further from here than where you live now" he says, making good points as to why I should take him up on the offer.
"I couldn't possibly do that to you. I mean I wouldn't want to disturb your life like that. But thank you!" I say, shutting down the idea right away but he persists nonetheless.
"Again, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. You're more than welcome to stay here and you can even move upstairs into one of the bigger bedrooms. Plus I have a storage unit that I haven't really used so you can store any big pieces of furniture you might have" he continues, trying to convince me even more and when he sees that I am about to refuse again he comes up with a compromise.
"Stay one more night. Tomorrow's Sunday right? That way you won't have to worry about work or anything like that so we can just relax and talk about things over today and tomorrow and then you can decide what you'd like to do" he says and it gets me to think about it for a second which makes him hopeful and ultimately I end up accepting.
"I guess I could stay one more night" I say and he gives me a half smile which some how makes me more nervous than a full one and so I take the first sip of my coffee that has honestly gone cold by now.
"Perfect. Did you want me to go take you to your place to pick up some clothes that you might need?" he questions, jumping at the opportunity to be helpful. "No that's okay. I drove here so I have my car out front" I say, shutting his next offer down but he make another good point that has me second guessing myself.
"Are you sure you want to drive when you're hungover? I don't think I can let you do that" he says, falling into a protective mode which is endearing but I don't think I could take advantage of him like that since he's already done so much for me. "I'll be fine Jungkook don't worry" I say and he nods his head respecting my choice and I let out a breath, happy that I don't have to fight him on this one too.
"Okay, did you want to borrow some more of my clothes so you can shower before you go?" he questions and I smile awkwardly, happy that he offered but guilty that he yet again is helping me out.
"I'll be back in a sec" he chuckles and walks past me, placing a hand on my back as he passes by which makes me sit up straight at the feeling and I watch him as he jogs upstairs to go retrieve said clothes.
He comes down seconds later with the clothes, a towel and even a toothbrush in hand. "Thought you might want one of these too" he says and I accept it all sheepishly before excusing myself and making my way into the bathroom.
How am I even supposed to act in this kind of situation? Like my ex best friend's dad who I kissed last night while I was drunk is now offering to let me stay here so I can move out of the apartment I share with his toxic daughter that my boyfriend cheated on me with. Like this is just way too much weirdness for me.
I shake off those thoughts and get in the shower to quickly get rid of all of these roaming thoughts and just hope and pray that somehow things will work out and I can settle into a new normal with my own place as soon as possible but I guess that luck just isn't on my side these days...
~~~~
After getting out of the shower and getting dressed I dry my hair with the hair dryer I happened to find under the sink and try to make myself look as presentable as possible so when I go back home I don't look like the complete mess that I know I am on the inside.
There's no reason I should be showing any kind of weakness around Jina or Jared so I just need to get in and get out of there as fast as I can so I can avoid as much awkwardness as possible. Being hungover doesn't help this situation in the slightest so I just really hope that she's not even there.
Walking out of the bathroom I'm met with a freshly clean Jungkook, scrolling through his phone while sitting on the couch and he quickly turns his head once he notices I've finished up.
"You feeling okay" he asks, always concerned for my wellbeing and I guess I just need to chalk it up to the parent side of him. Maybe that's all this is? Maybe Jina hasn't really given him an opportunity to be her dad in a while so he's just seeing me as another daughter he wants to take care of. That makes a lot more sense so thinking about it now I think I can go into this with a lot clearer mindset than before.
"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better thankfully" I say and head to the guest room where I stayed last night. "If you wanna just throw all of that into the washing machine I'll get a load going later on" he calls after me and I simply do as he asks and then head back into said bedroom.
"Hey Jungkook have you seen my phone?" I question while throwing the blankets around, trying to figure out where I could've put it. "Yeah you left it out in the living room last night so I put it on the charger when I woke up. Here" he says and I jolt at the sound of his voice being in the room with me, full on expecting him to still be on the couch.
"Thank you" I say while holding my hand out to take it with the other one placed over my heart, trying to calm down after the shock of him getting here so quickly. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" he chuckles and I wave off his apology, not seeing any need for it. "It's fine don't worry about it" I say and once I unlock it I see call after call after call after call from not only Jared but Jina, my mom and my sister, with just as many text messages to match.
"Looks like you're really popular today" he jokes, trying to make light of the situation. "Not for the right reasons" I mumble and lock my phone, not bothering to sift through the hundreds of notifications just yet.
"I've gotta head out and get a few things at the store so why don't you come with me? We can stop by your place to get your things and then this way you can help me pick out some groceries so we have stuff that you like as well" he says while grabbing his keys and instead of trying to refuse I simply nod and follow him outside.
We get in the car and drive silently to my place but once we get a bit closer I stop him. "Would you mind parking around the corner? It's just...well I don't want Jina to see you driving me around and make a big deal about it" he nods his head and without a fuss pulls into the coffee shop parking lot around the corner.
"Is this alright?" he questions and I nod and get out of the car. "Let me know if you need any help. She's my daughter so it's not like she would do anything drastic if I was around" he says, referring to her sometimes short temper. Plus with these added hormones there's no telling how she gonna be reacting to things now that everything is out in the open.
As I make my way to the apartment I check my phone to see if she's still sharing her location with me and thankfully she is and I see that she's still at work so hopefully if move fast enough I should be in and out before she comes home.
Walking into the apartment it looks as though she's started gathering her own stuff up in boxes, almost as if she's getting ready to move out. I appreciate the fact that since she fucked up that she automatically volunteered to move out but she's more than welcome to keep this place as far as I'm concerned.
I jog back into my room, reminding myself of the task at hand and I grab my duffle bag and start putting as many things as I think I'll need to get me through at least a few days in case anything happens. Better safe than sorry right?
My last stop is the bathroom where I pack up my shampoo and conditioner as well as my skincare products and throw it all into a plastic bag that I'm able to place easily on top of the rest of the items in the bag but before I'm even able to finish getting the rest of my toiletries together I'm greeted with the sound of Jina walking in.
"Y/n?" she calls out and I swear under my breath, trying to think of a way to make this whole situation as quick and painless as possible. "Y/n?" she says again, rounding the corner and finding me in the bathroom where I've started to pick up the pace and throw things in haphazardly wanting to get the fuck out already.
"What are you doing?" she questions me and I walk past her and back into my room and throw the bag in my duffle bag and zip everything up. "Please don't ignore me" she says in pretty much the most pitiful voice I've ever hear out of her and I scoff and roll my eyes. "You don't have the right to be acting like that. I'm moving out so don't bother moving out if you want the apartment" I say and throw on a baseball hat and walk out of my room and make a b line for the front door.
"Y/n please talk to me" she pleads and it's taking everything in me not to slap that 'poor me' attitude out of her. "You wanna talk? Let's speed this up for the both of us alright? You slept with my boyfriend behind my back, got pregnant and ruined my relationship and now I'm moving out. That pretty much covers everything if I'm not mistaken so let's just call this conversation over. I'll be back to pick up the rest of my shit later so don't touch anything" I say quickly without giving her a second to get a word in.
"When's later?" she asks and I roll my eyes at her pitiful excuse in trying to keep me here. "Whenever the hell I feel like it Jina. Sorry I can't make everything magically disappear right away" I say and turn to grab the handle but she just keeps going.
"Where are you staying?" she has the audacity to ask and I smile and shake my head at her stupidity. "Why would I ever tell you that? So you can come bother me with your lame excuses of apologizing. Or oh yeah even worse telling Jared where to find me so he can do the same thing. Why don't you guys do all of us a favor and stay the hell out of my life" I say and walk out the door, making sure to slam it right behind me.
While walking back to Jungkook's car I try my best to calm my breathing so I can hide what happened from him. There's no reason why he even needs to know that she showed up so might as well keep it to myself.
As I get closer to his car I watch as he looks up and sees me coming and gets out to grab my bag from me. "Is this everything you wanted?" he questions, taking it from me and placing it in the trunk. "Yep that's everything. Or at least enough to get me through the next few days" I say and get in the car with him following suit soon after.
"Are you okay?" he asks, concern now laced all over his expression. "I'm totally fine, why do you ask?" I question in the most awkward tone of voice I've ever heard come out of me. "Because you're shaking" he points out and grabs one of my hands, holding it between two of his.
"No it's okay I'm fine" I say, my voice now getting wobbly, matching the shakiness of my hands. "Something happened in there didn't it?" he asks and I shake my head but he raises a questioning brow at me which has me nodding a moment later, admitting to what happened. "Jina came home" I say and take a shaky breath in and out, trying to keep myself from crying.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he questions and I quickly shake my head and he nods his and lets go of my hand and turns to start the car and pull out of the parking lot but as soon as we're on the main road again he reaches out for one of my hands and holds onto it again, not letting go until we get to the store.
~~~~~
Grocery shopping with him feels weirdly domestic and felt as though we had done it dozens of times before, with both of our methods on how to shop quickly and efficiently matching up perfectly and so time flies and before I know it we're already putting the groceries away in his kitchen.
"We make a pretty good team huh?" he says and tossing me an apple and I catch it in time, further proving his point. "I guess we do" I say amusedly and take a big bite out of it. "No I'm serious! I swear whenever I go alone I always end up forgetting one of the most obvious ingredients and with your help I don't think I forgot a single thing" he says taking a bite of the apple he had gotten for himself.
"Well I'm glad to have been of some help. I feel bad since you've been doing nothing but taking care of me for the past twenty four hours and I haven't been able to give you anything in return" I admit, twisting the stem of until it pops off.
"You've given me plenty in return" he laughs off, as if I had said something ridiculous. "Oh yeah like what?" I ask, taking another bite of the apple and leaning back against the counter.
"You've definitely given me quite a few laughs today" he says and I scrunch my eyebrows together knowing that he's just making fun of me. "And you've definitely made my day a whole lot more interesting. Plus I learned some new things about you" he says and I gulp at that last part, knowing I've definitely overshared with him quiet a few times.
"Like how you prefer green apples over red. How you prefer white bread over wheat and that you get shy whenever I get close to you" he lists off, the last one obviously catching me off guard.
"I-" I start but I'm frozen in place as he gets closer to me and I just realized how I've backed myself into a corner. "Jungkook I-" I try again but my efforts die in my throat when he places his hands on either side of my hips, trapping me against the counter, staring at me as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.
"Do you wanna tell me why that is?" he asks, tilting his head almost taunting me. "I don't know what you're talking about" I say, doing my best to remain level headed. "You sure about that?" he asks and I nod my head in response, not trusting my voice to stay steady this time. "Then why are you holding your breath?" he says while placing his hand on my neck and using his thumb to press down on my chin, encouraging me to open my mouth which I do with almost no hesitation.
"I don't know" I whisper but he leans in closer, bringing his lips closer to mine. "I think you're lying" he say, his warm breath fanning my face, promises of pleasure hidden behind those words and it has me whimpering at the thought. 
"Y/n, earth to y/n" Jungkook says, bursting the bubble of the incredibly inappropriate daydream I had been having in front of him. "I-i'm sorry what was that?" I stutter, making it clear that I hadn't been paying attention. 
"Maybe you're running a fever" he says, walking over to me and placing the back of his hand to my forehead, his cool hand causing a shiver to run down my spine. "What makes you say that?" I ask, looking up at him, taking in his features from our closer proximity. "Because you're burning up, and your whole face has gone red" he says and I feel my cheeks getting even more red at his observation. 
"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, making purposeful eye contact with me. "Yeah I just, I think I need to go lay down for a while" I say, finding the easiest escape route possible. "That's probably a good idea. I shouldn't have kept you out for so long" he says, guilt clouding his expression and I take one of his hands in mine without giving it a second thought making him jolt for a second but tighten his hold around mine just seconds later. 
"I'm fine don't worry" I say with a small smile, "It was my fault for drinking so much. If I'm ever around you again and there's alcohol involved could you do me a favor and stop me from drinking so much" I laugh, trying to lift his spirits and it seems to do the trick. 
"Of course darling" he says and places a kiss on the center of my forehead. "Now go lay down, you really are burning up" he says, having felt the heat radiating off of me from the kiss he had graced me with. I smile up at him and nod my head before turning around and heading back to my room. 
Living with him might not be so bad. It's been a while since someone's taken care of me or even shown me such simple kindness without needing anything in return. I'm not sure if it would be the smartest decision but I'm definitely warming up to the idea...
prev / next Series Masterlist Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie
Join my Taglist!
Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)
522 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 5 months
Text
— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader
☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.
☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises
☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹
tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04
Tumblr media
Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.
He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.
Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.
Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.
Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.
There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.
Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.
“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”
Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.
“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”
His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.
“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”
“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”
Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.
He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.
“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.
“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.
The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.
“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.
But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.
But damn, he was persistent.
Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.
“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.
Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.
He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,
“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”
He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.
“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.
Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,
“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."
Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.
He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”
His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.
You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.
Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.
Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.
Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.
Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.
Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,
“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”
You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I want your hands.”
You kissed his other cheek.
“ I want you inside me, mate. “
You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.
Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.
A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.
‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.
Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.
His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.
You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.
You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.
“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.
Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”
You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”
He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.
Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.
Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.
“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”
As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.
“Delicious.”
Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.
He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.
“Can I repay you Azzie?”
Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.
He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.
“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”
But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.
Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.
Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.
You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.
Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,
“Play later.”
You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.
His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”
“You’re doing so good, keep going.”
“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.
By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible. 
The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.
Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.
“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”
“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”
“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”
Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.
“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”
Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.
Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.
Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.
“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.
“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.
You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.
Oh, how you loved him.
In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.
“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.
The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.
Tumblr media
620 notes · View notes
stories-and-chaos · 3 months
Text
Shrike pt 1
Tumblr media
[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable since writing from my own experience is easiest, so I’m not sure if this counts as QPR. Written mostly in spite over all the Alastor smut. And overly innocent reader inserts. I don’t mind some smut but c’mon people.]
[Part 1/2 Word count 5506/12026]
[cw: blood, violence, mild gore, attempted sexual assault, fluff]
Behind every great man is a great woman? Well, behind every sophisticated murderer is an equally charming murderess. Maybe not as accurate a statement but that’s how you and your partner were. You met Alastor during prohibition. You weren’t the headline performer at the speakeasy he liked to frequent. You were attractive but other girls there were more stunning.
What caught his attention was the passion in your voice. You were deep and sultry as New Orlean’s summer nights. Your notes slipped into his core as inevitable as the Big Easy’s flow. Combined with your poise and aura of untouchability, he felt drawn to you. The lean radio host had never felt a pull like this to anyone.
But he noticed other men drawn to you. But they had no appreciation for you, just your flesh and the pleasure they might take from you. So he took to following you home. At a discreet distance; he hadn’t yet introduced himself. At least a dozen times he intercepted ruffians that moved to harm you. They weren’t nearly as cautious and thorough as him.
One night Alastor had just prevented another uncouth man from approaching you and was wiping off his hands when he heard your voice. Not how he normally did, trained and melodic. No this was harsh, panicked. Fuck! Another one?! There really was no end to the lowlifes.
You had screeched at your assailant, “Get your hands OFF ME!” You were shrill enough to make him wince, but only for a second. He was stronger and just gave you a dark grin with more teeth missing than not. “Let’s have some fun babycakes.” He started dragging you to an alley.
You managed to stomp on his foot with your heel. “Augh, you bitch!” He shoved you up against the brick wall. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled.
“I believe the lady has made her opinion clear,” came another voice in the foggy night. “Let her go.” The voice was vaguely familiar, something you heard regularly…
It distracted your assailant long enough that you could reach for your hat. It was a tad out of style but had it’s advantages. Namely, needing a nearly foot long hat pin to keep it in place. You pulled the pin out while he looked out at the other man.
“Fuck off before I kill yo-“ his words were cut off by the sharpened steel pin suddenly piercing his eye. You jammed it into his eye socket with all your strength. Maybe you could have hit what little brains he had but the other man ran up to slit the bastard’s throat.
The man gurgled desperately before falling to the ground. He twitched, blood flowing from his neck and eye. You leaned back against the wall, chest heaving.
The tall lean man seemed oddly calm. He cleaned his knife before pulling your hat pin out of the corpse’s head. Blood fountained out from the eye socket as he cleaned the gore off your pin. He turned, presenting you the slim steel by the decorative knob.
“Are you all right cher?” You took the pin back but didn’t replace it. You didn’t want any leftover gore in your hair.
“Alors pas! Give me a moment cher.” You took a few deep breaths and looked up to see a (thankfully dry) red tinged hand waiting for you. You placed your shaking one into it. The owner assisted you to your feet, guiding you away from the ever growing pool of blood.
“Quite a fright you’ve had my dear!” His crisp voice, with its transatlantic accent echoed as he escorted you away.
You shuddered slightly, realizing how bad things could have gotten. “At least it was just a fright. Thanks to you mister…?” You trailed off, still trying to place his voice.
“Alastor.”
Your eyes widened in sudden recognition. “Ah! You’re the radio host!”
“I’m flattered you remember me! I’m afraid I have you at a disadvantage. You are Y/N, correct?” Dazed, you nodded. “I’ve been enthralled by your performances for months now, I had to learn more about you cher.”
“Why thank you, I’m glad you’ve been enjoying them.” Suddenly you felt dizzy and stumbled along the path. Alastor swiftly caught you.
“I believe you’re a tad unsteady after being handled so roughly. May I?” Confused, you nodded and he immediately swept you into a bridal carry. “If you’ll permit me, I’d like to escort you home.” He paused and added, “I will need directions of course.”
The thought of a man you just met bringing you home made you flush all over. No matter how gallant he was, the radio host was a stranger. But you didn’t think your legs could support you long enough. “If…if you would please.” You glanced back at the alley. “What do we do about…”
“Hmmm,” Alastor hummed as he strolled away. He had no difficulty carrying you. “I suppose a dead man is an inconvenience but I believe getting you somewhere safe takes priority. Certainly over a lowlife’s corpse.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. You directed him to your apartment, amazed that he was able to carry you that long and with ease. Once there, you allowed him inside. Once inside with a lamp lit, you realized what a mess both were. Your coat was splattered with blood and grime. Your dress was stained wherever the coat hadn’t covered it and your hat was long gone. The hat pin in your hand was mostly clean, but you spotted some blood and gore by the finial. Your shoes weren’t worth mentioning.
Seeing the result of your ordeal made the bile rise in your throat. You barely made it to the sink before vomiting. Thankfully you hadn’t eaten before leaving work so it was just bile. You faintly heard clinking and water being poured. Alastor appeared with a glass of water for you. “Ma cher, you look like you need a wash up. If you like, I can stay in the main room or I can make my way home. I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe.”
You found yourself asking him to stay as you cleaned up. Maybe you were being naive but he did just save you and you felt he didn’t have anything untoward in mind. When you asked about him, he merely chuckled and told you not to worry.
After you were cleaned and dressed in a nightgown and housecoat (and had added a torrent of tears to the bathwater) you emerged to find Alastor reading the newspaper in a chair. He’d made jambalaya for you both. “My mother’s recipe! So good it nearly killed her!” he quipped. Once you’d eaten you couldn’t keep your exhaustion at bay.
“You’re welcome to spend the night Alastor. I’d hate to send you home in the middle of the night.” The only problem was there was only one bed, yours.
“That is much appreciated Y/N. I can make myself comfortable in the front room for one night. I’ll leave you to rest while I clean up myself.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles and murmured “Bonne nuit, cher.”
Alastor left your sleeping form and made use of your washroom. He cleaned up methodically; it wasn’t the first time he’d had to wash up after a kill. His jacket was ruined, but at least the rest of his clothes were in decent enough shape. At least he wouldn’t scandalize anyone on the way home tomorrow.
Still, he was surprised that you had fought back as much as you had. Evidently that passion from your songs emerged elsewhere too. And the way you dispatched your attacker… he shivered at the beauty of it. The unexpected metal gleam in your hand, the furiously graceful arc as you swung and your perfect aim into the lowlife’s eye.
Alastor wasn’t much interested in pleasures of the flesh, he never had been and wasn’t still. He wanted to see more of you like that. Not scared and in need of rescue, but the hunter he recognized in your eyes.
“It seemed the songbird I’ve admired has talons.”
—————
The next morning you insisted on making breakfast; biscuits and gravy. Alastor seemed to enjoy it but he didn’t leave after eating. You thought he would need to get home before heading to the radio station. When you asked he said he was staying “just in case.”
Just before lunch there was a knock at your door. Alastor was closer so he answered it, almost like he was expecting it. Two policemen stood on the other side. “What can we help you with officers?” Alastor asked jovially.
“Is this the home of a Miss Y/N?” At your affirmative nod, the stockier of the two continued, “We’d like you to come down to the station Miss. We have some questions to ask you.”
“Ah, this must pertain to the dreadful ordeal my dear Y/N went through last night,” Alastor interjected. “Ma cher, why don’t you grab your things and I’ll accompany you.”
“And who might you be?” The lanky officer asked.
“Alastor, my good man. You may have tuned into my radio show!” He smiled thinly as the short one had a flicker of recognition. “I rendered some assistance to Y/N, so it’s probably best if I’m there as well. It would save you gentlemen a trip to my home to escort me in for questions, ha ha!”
By then you had your shoes and bag ready. “Dear you look lovely. Do you have your pin from last night, I’m sure these gentlemen will want to examine it.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent point Alastor.” You placed it in your bag, making sure the cover was on the tip.
Once at the station, you found out the trail from your attacker’s body to your apartment was fairly obvious. Some blood on the bottom of Alastor’s shoes led the way. As for what happened:
“The man accosted me on my way home. I tried to fight back, but he was ever so much stronger. It seems I was loud enough to grab Alastor’s attention. I’m so grateful he stepped in! The beast was distracted and I was able to get ahold of my hat pin. My mother always said not to leave without one and she was right! I meant to just scratch him but I’ve never had to do such a thing before; I hit his eye instead. Before I could do anything else Alastor was between us and then the ruffian was dead.”
“Indeed! I heard Y/N order the lout to release her and I ran up to assist. I had just been dealing with another lowlife who had also been following her. To think there are so many ne’er-do-wells on our streets! In any case, I dispatched the man and assisted Y/N home.” You hadn’t realized there had been another man following you. You shivered at the thought.
“And why were you in the area Mr. Alastor? Records show that neither your home or place of employment are in that area.”
Alastor’s eye twitched but his smile never faltered. “I’d had a lovely evening at the jazz club and felt a late night stroll was in order. I wasn’t even paying attention to where my feet were taking me! Perhaps it was providence guiding my way so I might save the lady’s virtue.”
“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”
“I could barely manage to walk, I was in such a state. Alastor had to carry me home; I was in no condition to report anything, officers.”
“The lady had been assaulted on her way home and forced to defend herself. I felt it would be unworthy of a gentleman to leave her alone in her time of need.”
After a barrage of questions and a thorough examination of your hatpin, Alastor’s knife and the minor injuries you had suffered while being manhandled, the officers let you both go. They would provide all the evidence to the district attorney. But it seemed unlikely that either of you would be charged. You had been defending yourself and Alastor had defended you.
The charming radio host escorted you back home. “Won’t you be late for work at this point?” His broadcast covered a good portion of the afternoon and early evening.
“Hmm, perhaps.” He patted your hand nestled into the crook of his arm. “I still feel your wellbeing is more important however, my dear.” You felt a blush warming your cheeks. “On that subject, I believe you’re due to perform again tonight?” You nodded, he really did enjoy your performances if he knew your schedule. “I believe I will go mad with worry cher, might I escort you there and back home?”
This man was insinuating himself into your life so easily. Perhaps killing a man together had that effect. “Please do Alastor. I don’t believe I will be able to go on my own after yesterday.” You had reached your apartment while talking. “Then I shall return after I complete my broadcast. Until tonight cher.” He kissed your knuckles and saw you through the door before leaving. You turned on your radio and tuned the dial to Alastor’s station. About ten minutes after his broadcast normally began you heard the crackle of his voice.
“Salutations listeners! Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen, I know everyone has been eagerly awaiting the show. I am Alastor, a pleasure to be sharing this time with you all.” You sighed in relief. You would have felt terrible if helping you jeopardized Alastor’s job.
You left the radio on, letting his voice fill the apartment while you took care of minor tasks. Eventually he signed off with his normal outro “Until next time dear listeners, thank you and goodnight!” You didn’t know how long it would take for him to get from his station to your apartment but you felt it best to finish getting ready.
So you were dressed for the evening when he arrived. That was the start of a new routine for you both. Alastor walked you to work and back, enjoying the illicit beverages and your voice. Sometimes he would stay the night in your front room but he mostly dropped you off before making his way home.
He was a lovely conversationalist and those walks were much more cheerful than they had been. You felt easy around him in a way that was foreign but fulfilling. Eventually your friends and coworkers at the speakeasy asked if you two were courting.
You honestly couldn’t answer. You’d never had a beau before. According to friends over the years, you had been asked out by a lot of fellows and turned them all down. Was that why none of those men talked to you again? Apparently you hadn’t realized their intentions.
One night, a couple months after the attack, you mentioned this to Alastor. “Isn’t that strange, cher? They think we’re a couple!”
He stopped dead, his lips barely keeping their ever present smile as the rest of his features went blank. “Is…is this what courtship is?” He blinked down at the hand in the crook of his arm, the high heeled feet he had shortened his stride to keep in step with, the new gleaming hat pin he’d gifted you.
“I…am not really sure. I’ve never had a beau before.” You looked up at him, seeing the lips that gently kissed your knuckles every time you parted, the dark auburn hair you would stroke when he was stressed, the patterned bow tie you had given him the same day he gave you the pin. “Although, if this is what courting is, I’m glad it’s with you Alastor.”
“Hmm…” he resumed walking, this time humming one of the songs you sang that night. Once at your place, he finally replied. “I believe I agree with you my dear. Since we are a couple it seems, I’m glad it’s with you, Y/N.” He not only gave your hand a kiss, but leaned down to kiss your cheek as well. “I suppose you can tell your friends tomorrow they were correct. Bonne nuit, ma cher.”
Roughly a month later, Alastor was spending the night in your apartment when you felt the need to ask a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Alastor, cher,” you sat next to him, pulling his attention from the book he was reading. “Had…have you killed other people before that night?”
He froze, which really was all the answer you needed. “Are you still?”
For a man so glib, it took him a moment to find his silver tongue. “And if I am?” He choked out. “What will you do, Y/N?”
You studied him, making sure not to move and not to touch him. “I would ask what sort of people they are. And if they are of the same mold as the men who attacked me…then I’d also ask you to be careful, cher.”
He relaxed slightly. “Unfortunately there are a great many like-minded men in the world, although a few less in this city in the past few years.” He paused. “I can’t help myself dear. I see them acting as they do and feel the need to remove them from this life.”
Gently, you placed a hand over his. “I can hardly blame you for that. Especially after you saved me.” Your other hand turned his head to look into your eyes. “Your secret is safe with me, Alastor.”
The man was usually so composed; it was kind of cute to see him so surprised. He then cupped your cheek and lightly kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into the kiss.
It was one kiss and it didn’t last long. Pulling back from each other, he licked his lips while you pressed your fingertips to yours. “That was quite nice.” Despite singing so many songs about love, you had never been eager to try out all the steps of romance.
“Indeed it was. Shall we add that to our list of favorable courting actions?” You smiled and pulled out a paper, a fourth of the way filled with a list. You added “kisses on lips” to it.
Before too long, you were helping him with his activities. Initially you assisted in the clean up, but then you started taking part in the kills. Alastor admired your channeled fury and impeccable aim. You admired his precision and calculated execution. The two of you had to be sparing with your activities however. You didn’t want to draw suspicion. The kills were never closer than a week from each other.
Roughly a year after you met Alastor, the subject of marriage came up. It was while you two were disposing of another uncouth man; he made the mistake of trying to get you away from your beau and received knife stabs from both of you. You no longer had to rely solely on your hat pin; you had a stiletto blade of similar size now. Alastor finished covering the body in dirt; he refused to let you help with digging at all. Instead you kept an eye out as he did.
You provided him with a cloth to clean off the dirt. “Merci, ma cher.” Once he was ready you put it back into your bag and linked arms with him. As you walked together, satisfied, he asked, “Y/N, shall we get married?”
The question caught you off guard and you stumbled forward. Just like that first night, he caught you smoothly and lifted you into his arms. “ Alastor, darling, where is this coming from?”
“Some at the radio station inquired as to our relationship. I was informed that a successful courtship as ours generally results in a marriage.” He hummed as he carried you. “After some thought, I realized the prospect of wedding you is…very appealing.”
You nestled into his embrace. “I haven’t given it any thought. It would make life simpler, you wouldn’t have to dash around between our homes and work.” You mulled it over. You would like seeing him every morning instead of on occasion. The thought of your dresses next to his suits in the wardrobe, helping each other clean up after a kill, relaxing quietly on the couch while you both read… “Yes. Let’s get married Alastor. I’d like that.”
He smiled down at you, looking oddly tender considering what the two of you had been doing just half an hour ago. He leaned down to kiss you softly. “Let’s get you home and we’ll work out all the details tomorrow, my dear.”
Initially the two of you planned something simple. But once both your and his coworkers got wind of the nuptials, they insisted on a grand party. Apparently they all felt the two of you were adorably hopeless. Neither of you had realized how invested those around you were in your relationship. You and Alastor concluded that resisting your friends well-wishes was as pointless as resisting a hurricane.
So while the ceremony was a small affair, the party after was held at your club and lasted deep into the night. The proprietors had managed to get a bottle of champagne for you and Alastor. Despite it being your wedding reception, you couldn’t help performing one of Alastor’s favorite songs. He then kept you on the dance floor the majority of the evening. He danced as well as he talked. It was a good thing you’d had over a year as his primary dance partner.
You heard some ribald jokes about his stamina. At least that’s what they sounded like. You still couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered much to either of you. All you cared about was your husband was having a great time, out dancing everyone in the building. Once it was time to leave, he carried you into a cab, then carried you into his home.
Despite what the guests had suggested, he was tired after all that. Frankly you were too. So once divested of all the fancy clothing, he tucked you into the bed and climbed in next to you.
For the first time since you met him, he looked nervous in the faint starlight. Of course. This was so far beyond both of your experiences. You probably looked the same. “Alastor? May I?” You held out your arms to him. He gave you a nod and you embraced him, slowly nestling your body against his. “Let me know if it’s too much, cher,” you murmured as he wrapped his arms around you.
He started to relax with you. His breathing matched yours, your heartbeat synchronized with his. You felt his arms growing heavy, their grip softening. Alastor nuzzled your hair and kissed the crown of your head. “Thank you for marrying me, Y/N.”
You smiled. “Thank you as well Alastor,” you replied before drifting off to sleep.
The two of you did have sex eventually. The first time was a few weeks after the wedding. You were both back to work after a brief honeymoon; when you got back the other singers, the band, even the bartender were all curious about your bedroom activities. They surrounded you while Alastor was conversing with another patron. When all you talked about was how nice falling asleep with him was and the cute sight of him sleeping as the sun rose, they stared at you slack jawed.
Your coworkers consulted amongst themselves. You heard snippets of “do we need to explain this too, did no one tell them about that, they’re both such lookers too, I don’t wanna tell her, you do it, no you, I ain’t gonna tell her.”
After some discussion it seems Mimzy, another singer was appointed to talk to you. “Y/N, sweetie, doll, did your mama ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” She guided you to the bar and requested drinks for you both.
“Mimzy! I do know about sex. Gracious, I’m aware of adult urges and where babies come from.” You threw back your drink. The curvy blonde breathed a sigh of relief; at least she didn’t need to go over the basics.
“That is usually what a honeymoon is for dearie.” Mimzy tossed back her own drink. “Look cutie, what you and your mister do at home is your business, but your friends don’t want you missing out! You two are good together; I’ve never seen either of ya this happy before.” She downed another drink before hopping over to the stage.
Alastor came up to your side. “Looks like your friends are all in a tizzy dear.” You smiled up at him. “Did you have a strange conversation with your colleagues today too?”
“Ah yes,” he leaned on his new cane, a wedding gift. “Concerning my bedroom prowess and your presumed enjoyment thereof.” You couldn’t help but laugh huskily. “The station manager even told me to ‘remember my duties as a husband.’”
You gave him a peck on the cheek. “I believe you’re going above and beyond your duties cher.” He kissed your hand and held it while the two of you listened to Mimzy’s set. “I’d best get up there darling.” You gave his hand a squeeze before going to take the stage.
You sang a mix of familiar tunes and a couple new ones you’d picked up on the honeymoon. To finish the performance, you sang the same number from your wedding night, which you had come to think of as Alastor’s song. Many of the patrons were familiar with the two of you, so listening to you sing to your husband made a number of them go misty eyed.
Once back at home, Alastor cleared his throat while unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you want to, cher?”
You continued to remove your jewelry. “Perhaps one day.” You applied cold cream to remove your makeup. “And you cher? Do you want to?” You asked back as you wiped your face clean.
He was putting up his suit, more intent on making sure it lined up on the hanger than usual. “Perhaps one day,” he echoed. He stopped fiddling with the suit and stood there in his underclothes. Alastor’s ever present smile was still there but his eyes looked lost.
You finished your nightly routine and went to him, asking gently before taking both his hands in yours. “Ma cher, when have we ever been a normal couple? We already have almost a full page of physical affections we enjoy. If we want to see if sex will be on that list one day we can. But not unless we both want to try it.” His smile became more genuine and he pressed both of your hands to his lips. “Thank you my dear.”
You gave him a playful look and started humming the opening bars to his song. Alastor gave you a quizzical look back as you started singing it. Before the first verse was over you pulled him into an impromptu dance. In the privacy of your bedroom, you and your husband danced into the night to your voice. To your delight, he joined you in duets and sang a solo for you as you slow danced together.
“Ah, my sweet songbird. I am glad I married you.”
“I’ve never really seen myself as a songbird before. If anything…” your eye caught sight of your hat pins on your vanity, “more of a shrike.” He looked at you in surprise. “A butcher-bird,” you clarified.
“No no, I’m aware. I never thought of that comparison for you. It fits though, they’re pretty little killers that impale their victims.”
“I’m glad you agree darling. Now, we should get some rest.” You put out the light and pulled him into bed. There was a bit of hesitation on his part as he laid down. But he was soon settling into what was becoming your normal sleeping positions: you nestled against his side with his arms around you.
A few days after that, he asked if you’d like to give sex a try that night. You didn’t have any problems with the idea so almost a month after your wedding the two of you tried it.
Of course you were both terribly awkward; Alastor pulled your hair more than once and you elbowed him in the neck. But the two of you managed it. Multiple times that night in fact. Evidently that was what those stamina comments were about. Afterward, as he held you close Alastor mused. “Hmmm, that was rather enjoyable. I still don’t understand everyone’s fascination but I’m not opposed to the occasional romp as they say. What did you think darling?”
You thought back. “Once we figured things out it was fun. I agree though, I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed about it. It’s rather messy in the end. And I think we can add it to our list, as an occasional activity.”
He chuckled. “You can add it tomorrow.”
The next day, you joined the other singers chatting before the sets started. One of them was gushing over her new beau and you realized this was a great opportunity to let them know. “Alastor and I had sex last night,” you stated, cheerful and straightforward. Again with the slack jawed looks. “Multiple times actually. I’m glad I’m in such good shape, it was more exertion than I expected.”
After a beat one of the girls asked “Well? How was it?”
“Hm? Oh! It was fun. My legs are pretty tired so I don’t think I’ll be dancing much tonight though. Alastor enjoyed it too, so we decided to do it again someday.” You heard the band warming up. “I’m up first tonight, best get up there.”
As you left the group they started talking rapidly to each other. “Do you think they actually did? Don’t see why not, they are the strangest couple I’ve ever met, at least they’re strange together, I thought for sure one of them would be more excited about doing it…”
Your lives settled into a comfortable routine together. You both continued with your jobs; his broadcast was quite popular and as you increased your skill and song repertoire, you became more successful in the nightlife scene. He accompanied you everywhere which was exactly how you liked it. Every so often the two of you would kill a ne’er-do-well or three. Occasionally you had intercourse. You often danced together, both at the club and at home.
This continued for a number of years. By now almost everyone around you was used to the idiosyncrasies in your marriage and just didn’t question it.
One night in late summer the pair of you were in the woods, hiding the latest kill. As you kept watch in the humid air, Alastor was dumping dirt over the corpse. “Are you sure you don’t need help cher?”
He grunted while lifting more dirt. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I made my darling wife fill a hole like this?” You could only shake your head in amusement. You shifted your feet but lost your footing in the process. Both legs swept out beneath you and you landed firmly on your rear. You did your best not to cry out in case your voice carried.
“Cher!” Alastor dropped the shovel to help you up. “Are you alright Y/N?” You nodded as you grabbed his outstretched hand. “Just slipped, I’ll be fine Alastor.”
You looked up at your husband and noticed that the branches of the nearby trees gave him the illusion of antlers. You were about to mention it when the sharp crack of a rifle rang out and suddenly his forehead blossomed into a spray of blood and brain matter. “ALASTOR!” His name ripped from your throat. He couldn’t hear it though; his smile was wiped away as his body dropped to the ground.
“Aw shit! I thought he was a deer!” The man who killed your husband yelled out, realizing what he’d done. You screeched and ran in the direction of the voice, pulling your hat pin out as you did so. The hunter wasn’t far. You leapt at him, screaming and crying. He was bigger than you but he wasn’t expecting a furious murderess to launch herself at him at full speed. He fell to the ground with you straddling his chest and you plunged the hat pin, the one Alastor gave you for your last anniversary, into the man’s eyes and throat. Over and over you shoved the steel into his face. The blood spray and viscera didn’t scare you anymore.
You faintly heard, “Jesus Mary and Joseph crazy bitch!” through your own screaming. You whirled in that direction to see the second hunter aiming his own rifle at you. You started to move toward him when you felt an intense pain at your brow, followed by nothingness.
—————
Part 2
290 notes · View notes
xxchumanixx · 2 months
Text
Sing me a Lullaby
Tumblr media
Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings/Tags: character death, angst, fluff, hurt
Word count: 482
Authors note: Hey guys, don't know how this happened, but I suddenly had this idea. If my goal is to make you cry? Maybe. I did (but only a little bit, I swear). The song mentioned is Lullabye from Billy Joel.
I would say enjoy, but...
There weren't a lot of things Tim Bradford was scared of.
Still he couldn't sleep, having a hard time to calm down.
With you it was different.
Whenever he couldn't sleep you would sing him a lullaby, calming down his racing heart and erasing the horrible things he saw, when he closed his eyes.
He had seen a lot of things no one should ever see in their lives.
No matter how often he told himself that he was strong, your presence and your sweet voice that filled his head, luring him to sleep, were the only things that helped him at night.
"Goodbye my angel, time to close your eyes." you would sing, your fingers brushing through his hair as you smelled his familiar scent.
"And save these questions for another day. I think I know what you've been asking me, I think you know what I've been trying to say."
It was a song as old as you were, your father singing it to you whenever you couldn't sleep as a baby. It continued even when you grew older, until he died of cancer when you were still very young.
You knew every word of it by heart, the song having a deep meaning for you. Tim knew that, feeling honored that you decided to share it with him.
You were his save haven, his light.
So when you were on patrol with your rookie, a call turning out to be a shooting like you'd rarely seen, his thoughts were trained on you, trying to get you all out of there alive as the supervising officer.
He silently gave administrations, telling you where to go and where to position yourselves, waiting for his signal.
It should have been easy, going in, arresting the drug dealer, going back out.
But it wasn't.
When you stormed the abandoned storage hall, they'd already been waiting for you.
Hiding behind boxes you waited for a clear shot, all the while looking out for the others. Firing whenever you were able to, you shot one down, Tim shooting another one.
There was backup right behind you, Harper, Nolan, Grey, Lucy and some other cops.
When you had shot all of them down, you released a sigh of relief. Even though they managed to surprise you, only one got shot in the leg.
Coming out from your hiding spot you followed Tim and Harper, as they slowly made their way forward.
There was no one in sight, causing you to frown. But you would have never complained about something easier than it looked.
But suddenly, your body jerked forward, straight towards Tim, who's face was sprinkled with blood.
Before you could have asked yourself where the blood came from, you fell into his arms, suddenly having trouble to breathe.
Tim's eyes widened in horror, as he slowly sank down onto his knees with you in his arms.
"No..." he breathed, as you started to feel the pain. A shot rang, as you heard someone call clear.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Tim panicked, frantically pressing his hands to the wound in your chest.
He couldn't lose you.
"Y/N, stay with me!" he shouted, though it seemed to blur, as your fingers slowly brushed over his cheek, adding more blood to it as your body convulsed.
You didn't get enough air into your lungs. It was like something blocked your airways, as you struggled.
Someone called for an ambulance, as Tim pressed harder on your wound. His fingers were full of your blood, as it seemed to just seep through, no matter his attempts of stopping it.
"Y/N!" you heard him shout your name again, as tears formed in his eyes, one after another freeing themselves. "I can't lose you, please, stay with me!"
A hot tear ran down your cheek, as you tried to understand what was happening through the fog in your brain. "I-I love you, T-Tim." you sputtered, blood seeping from your mouth.
"I love you too, so don't dare dying on me now!" he gave back, shaking as he sobbed.
You felt so cold, numb.
"Sing me a lullaby." you asked of him, as you noticed how black blotches started to cover your vision.
He stared at you for a moment, speechless. But he did as you asked him to, silently praying that the ambulance would make it in time.
"Goodbye my angel, time to close your eyes." His voice broke, as a sob racked through him, tears running into his open mouth. "And save these questions for another day."
His heart wrenched, as he fell silent, trying to find back his voice, hands still pressing on your wound.
"I think I know what you've been asking me." he continued, your body hanging limp in his arms. "I think you know what I've been trying to say. I promised I would never leave you, and you should always know, wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be very far."
Anther sob racked through him, his body shaking as he sung the words he remembered by heart.
"Goodbye my angel, now it's time to sleep."
He didn't know that you never heard his last words, even if they meant the world to him.
But as you lay dying in his arms, you knew he was your home. And wherever you may go, you would be his.
Always and forever.
209 notes · View notes
ad0rechuu · 5 months
Text
FROM STORM TO SUNRISE. ━━ JYH & SMG
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompts / plot. ━━━━━ you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found
Tumblr media
part of the secret santa event. ━━━━━ fem! foreigner!reader x boyfriends! jeong yunho & song mingi , domestic fluff / slight angst (?) / an attempt at humor / soulmate au , staring: yn, yunho, mingi, mrs yang (oc) & an unnamed baker + cashier , tw: mentions of food, metaphorical storms and tornadoes and yn is basically panicking most of the time , wc: 1421 , notes: no pronouns used but fem reader + foreigner part not mentioned and yunho & mingi aren’t soulmates but this is all because of the prequel, also i imagined the town from hometown cha cha cha for this fic !
[ to @justhere4kpop aka nadia . . . ] happy holidays (and merry christmas if you celebrate) nadia! i was your secret santa, did you have any idea? either way i have to start by apologizing i was planning a much larger fic but than a bunch of things in my personal life came crashing down so i decided to continue writing the other fic (the prequel to this one) later which means you will get two gifts ! i know the writing is terrible with this one but if you liked this someone how it’s a nice surprise for both of us! i hope you have a wonderful day and i love you mwah <3
[ listening to . . . ] Dreamy Day by Ateez
masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33
Tumblr media
WARM RAYS OF SUNSHINE SHONE GENTLY THROUGH THE LARGE WINDOW, ALLOWING YOU TO WAKE UP IN PEACE.
You slowly opened your eyes while you stretched your arms up from underneath the blankets, a smile making its way onto your face as you felt the arm draped over your stomach move you closer in his tight grip.
Turning, you met your boyfriend’s squinting eyes. Clearly, he'd just woken up too. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and placed a kiss underneath your shirt on your bare shoulder— a silent good morning.
You'd just woken up and you already felt giddy. You moved your hand to the mattress next to you, searching for your other boyfriend’s warm body.
Your eyes opened fully, head snapping to his usual side of the bed when you realize he wasn't there. A small storm of worry brewed in your chest as you nudged your present partner, who seemed close to going back to dreamland.
He whined a bit and it took every bone in your body not to coo at him. You managed to get over your cuteness aggression enough to ask.
“Yunho, honey, where is Mingi?”
He was the early bird in your relationship after all. If anyone would know, it would be Yunho.
To your surprise, he didn't.
“I don’t know? Maybe in the kitchen? Bathroom?” He slurred, clearly not feeling the same sense of urgency as you yet.
“M’kay. I’m gonna look for Mingi. I’ll be right back.” You ruffled his already messy hair before removing yourself from his comfortable grip. The movement only caused more whining from the sleepy giant.
Yunho heard you make your way through the apartment. Your bare feet making a rhythm of soft steps on the linoleum floor, and your groggy but comforting morning voice called out Mingi’s name over and over again.
Your voice got more and more nervous with each call of his name ringing out with no response.
When you walked back into the bedroom, Yunho was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his hands. He gave you a worried look, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with him.
“Nothing?” He asked.
You fell back on the bed with a sigh as you shook your head no, racking your brain for where your boyfriend could possibly be at nine in the morning on the weekend. You felt Yunho reach over and gently push some hair out your face in an attempt to calm you down.
“I tried texting him but I got no answer either.”
Just as you were about to respond, a sharp feeling washed over you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.
You knew what that feeling meant. It only happened when your soulmate was experiencing a strong emotion. It could range from heartbreaking sadness to mind boggling happiness to excruciating pain.
You jumped up, clutching the arm that has Mingi’s soulmate mark on it. Your eyes met Yunho's.
“I think Mingi is in trouble!”
Tumblr media
SADLY, A SOULMATE BOND did not include a GPS. At least, that was not the kind you were blessed with. That would have saved you the trouble of walking aimlessly through the town in your pajamas and winter coats.
Due to Yunho not being Mingi’s soulmate and your soulmate mark being basically sharing skin with Mingi, you were no further than when you left the house half an hour ago.
Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing it in an attempt to shield you from the cold morning weather on the island. It was a sweet gesture. The growing panic heated your cheeks more then enough, but you appreciated the comfort of it nonetheless.
He stopped his brisk pace for a second and looked at you like a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Have you tried writing to him?” He asked.
You responded immediately by looking through your pockets for a pen or a marker, or anything that could stain your skin, but to no avail.
Yunho had the same luck. But he pointed you to the closest store, and without any words needed, the two of you rushed into the building, probably giving the poor cashier a heart attack.
“Excuse me, do you have a pen or something I could borrow? It’s an emergency!” You panted as her face contorted in confusion. She reached over next to her and handed you a pen anyway.
Before you could, Yunho quickly but gently raised your sleeve up, baring your arm for you. Despite the pressure, it made you want to giggle like a school girl. You kept your lovey-dovey feelings to yourself and began to write.
‘Song Mingi, where the hell are you?’
Normally, whenever you’d write something on your body and vice versa (left side for Mingi, and right for Yunho), the receiving party could felt a tingling sensation even before reading the message. You hoped with all your being that Mingi received that sensation right then too.
After staring at your arm for five minutes, you began to feel your heart speed up even more when you heard Yunho gasp from next to you as the letters you previously wrote where erased.
Finally, you felt the storm that had turned into a tornado in your heart calm down a bit, and the letters you wrote were replaced by messy yet familiar handwriting revealing Mingi’s location.
Tumblr media
THERE HE WAS.
Through the display window of the bakery, you and Yunho saw him.
Mingi clutched a colorful box while one of the village elders, Mrs. Yang, pulled on the other side. Both seemed to be in an intense battle as the baker behind the counter watched the two awkwardly.
The closer you got, the more it hit you; the sharp feeling you felt wasn’t sadness, anger, or pain— it was his sheer competitiveness.
Yunho held the door open and both of you stepped through with the sound of the bell signaling your arrival. The baker gave you a friendly nod, but neither Mingi nor Mrs. Yang seemed to notice you, still too fixated on arguing over what you now saw was a beautifully decorated cake.
“Song Mingi!” Your voice resounded through the store as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.
The man in question immediately forgot about the cake and trailed towards you like a puppy. He looked at you and Yunho with big eyes full of confusion.
“Baby, what're you doing here? Gosh, both of you are wearing pajamas, aren’t you way too cold?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.
He tossed Yunho a judgmental look as if suspecting he was the reason you guys were here.
The older man flicked Mingi’s forehead before shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. None of this would’ve happened if you knew how to answer your phone or leave a note.”
“Yeah, we were so worried something happened.” You grabbed his attention along with one of the hands that was still on your cheek.
Mingi looked down sheepishly, his cheeks slightly reddening.
“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you were craving cake yesterday so I wanted to surprise you and Yunho with cake as breakfast in bed.” He pointed behind him, doing a double take as the cake he was just ready to risk his life for was long gone.
A heartbroken expression made its way onto his face. He looked at the baker, who only chuckled.
“I’m sorry, man. You snooze you lose.”
The baker pointed outside, where Mrs. Yang was gleefully walking away from the bakery with the precious cake in her hands.
Yunho let out a boisterous laugh, clutching his stomach as you patted the pouting boy’s cheek. Though that wasn't to say you weren't trying to reign your own laughter in as well.
“It’s okay, Ming! It’s the thought that counts.”
After a couple more minutes of comforting Mingi about his lost battle, he finally agreed to get another sweet pastry (which Yunho demanded to choose as compensation for everything).
As you three walked out of the store, you didn’t feel a storm or a tornado brewing in your chest. You felt a lovely calm wash over you as both of your boyfriends linked hands with you, one carrying the box with a well-deserved red velvet cake in it on the way home.
All the worry was replaced in no time with a warm domestic sunrise growing in your heart, and you knew exactly who were to blame for that.
Tumblr media
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet
notes. again i did the gen tag list on hopes and prayers so i hope i have it right, please tell me if u want to be removed or added
taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear @nyukyujs @a1sh1teruu | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)
281 notes · View notes
yuri-is-online · 7 months
Note
I love masquerade ball trope, specially when you have anonymity when comes to romance.
Can I have number 6?
For Deuce, Malleus and Silver. I would like to know about theirs.
Tumblr media
6. Crowley has decided to put together a murder mystery for the whole ball and you've been the first one "killed." Whoever is playing detective seems really upset about that.
My favorite part of romance anything is the pining and masquerade's are great for that (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I guess they could be good for drama too but eh I am not a huge fan of miscommunication related angst. Unless it's that one route in Tailor Tales... and even then not by much.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, you have to be a special kind of stupid to "hurt" Yuu in front of Malleus, the rest of the event requests can be found on my masterlist.
Tumblr media
Deuce
This is bad. Bad with a capital B- during finals week, House Warden Riddle finds out about. And now that he has thought up his angry House Warden, he can add fear to the list of emotions he's feeling, right underneath self-doubt and hatred of whoever decided to pick Yuu off first.
"Wait seriously, you're the detective?" Ace looks as oddly panicked as Deuce feels, their attention firmly on the playing card tight in Deuce's shaking hands.
"I just don't know where I should start." Deuce says nervously, but it is clear he has determination if nothing else. "But you're way better at reading people and I need to know if you saw anyone acting weird." Ace makes a show of looking around the ballroom, the other students are more or less just mingling as they had before. It makes Deuce angry, he settles into himself in a manner that suggests he is about to flip.
"Hey hey look," Ace has both his hands out like he's trying to soothe one of the flamingos, which grounds Deuce only slightly as the back of his brain begins to turn towards an idea without his notice "I would totally love to help you out. No really! It's just don't you think you actually want me to-"
"Of course I do!" Someone shushes Deuce to his right and he glares in way of an apology. No one else has died yet which is a relief, he has to be doing something right. "Aren't you upset that someone decided to pick Yuu off first?" For some reason Ace doesn't respond, if anything he looks a bit crestfallen but Deuce is too caught up in his mixed bubble of emotions to fully notice. "They're already singled out so much, and you know how they always say it doesn't bother them but I know better. I mean not to say you don't- I just. I worry about them so much already and now they can't even enjoy a school dance without someone trying to pick on them-"
"I think you miiiight be reading too much into it Juice." Ace has begun to back away from him now. "And while I would like to help, isn't that against the rules? Wouldn't want to be you when Riddle finds out you didn't win us the game in a card soldier like wa-"
"It was you." Ace stops. Deuce stops to drop into a stance that has Ace really wishing he was not such a slacker on track days.
"If I had known it was you I would have knocked off Jack or something first!" He yells over his shoulder as both boys ignore the established rules of the game in favor of sprinting through the ballroom, a determined officer in pursuit of an only slightly embarrassed knave. "I just thought it would be funny! And jeeze why are you acting like this over a little crush!"
"See I told you." A wise little grey sage nods next to you as you survey the scene. "It's a total race to the bottom between those two.
Malleus
It was not a dark and stormy night until Crowley announced you were the first one out. You don't remember anything in the forecast calling for rain, or NRC students being so afraid of it. The green lightning flickering across the sky suggests a... degree of magic might be involved in this particular turn of events and you do your best to stamp down the tension headache that causes.
"Perhaps it would best if we take a brief recess to let the weather clear up before we continue with our game?" Crowley doesn't wait for anyone to agree with him before leaving, maybe never to be seen again, forcing you to contend with the looming shadow peering over your shoulder.
"You do know I'm not actually hurt, right?" You try to bring Malleus back down to earth, you swear you see smoke curling from his exhaled breath as beady green eyes look you over.
"Of course." He almost sounds like he's pouting, the longer you stare the more his lips purse and cheeks puff, you are surprised he doesn't break eye contact or cross his arms. "But threatening to hurt you in my presence is an insult."
"It was not an actual threat," you carefully take his hand in yours, guiding it to your neck so he can feel the steady thrumming of your heart, politely ignoring the way even more people scramble away from the ballroom. No doubt intimidated by the touching display of intimacy and not the way Malleus's eyes flutter like a blushing maiden as the storm slows to a drizzle. "Crowley just thought it would be a fun game for everyone to play, and since we are all wearing masks there's a good chance the killer-" Another lightening bolt splits the sky with a crack and Mallues's arm tenses. You gently kiss his knuckles and try another approach. "The person pretending to be the killer picked me at random. They don't want to hurt me, I'm not going anywhere." The rain ceases for now, the outburst seems to have rendered the game largely forgotten, with Crowley pointedly refusing to return to start it up and Malleus refusing to move. The band, at least, seems to take the que and starts up the music and Malleus moves to dance with you, making sure to keep you extra close in case anyone gets any ideas of really hurting you.
"I did understand that it was a game." He tells Lilia, even as the old fae shakes his head clearly unbelieving. "But human life is so fragile, theirs more so than most. I can't risk anyone getting any ideas." He won't loose them, not to anything other than time, and even then, if Malleus finds it within his power he will defy fate itself.
Silver
"And now that our first victim for the night has been announced, you may return to your mingling until our killer selects his next prey." Crewel is having way too much fun laying out the dramatic scene before him, even if he is disappointed with the first choice of victim. Silver appreciates his dedication if nothing else, it is always impressive how much attention to detail the Professors at this school put into the small things in events like this.
But he is stalling focusing on that, his purple eyes move to scan the perimeters, Idia is lingering in a corner too focused on his phone to really be playing, besides his first pick would probably have been Azul to save himself the headache. Satisfied he walks (though the people around him part as if he is stalking) away from his position at the entrance to survey the other guests. His hand twitches close to his baton when he senses someone coming up behind him, but relaxes once he notes his father.
"My, my, just what has my sweet boy so worked up?" Lilia seems to be in a very good mood, which relives Silver even if he had expected him to enjoy this game a lot more than he was. "I almost mistook you for Malleus with how severe your face looks." He pauses, gently touching his face as if he will be able to tell just what's so strange about it without a mirror and Lilia's conspiratorial grin grows wider. "Look, even our dear prefect is concerned." Silver's eyes snatch up to the balcony where Yuu sits, leaning on the railing to look at the guests below, mask set to the side lazily as they relive some of his stress with the clear boredom on their face.
The sight catches with the breath in his throat, confusion wrapping him in it's familiar embrace with a strange twinge to it he wants to say he is unaware of but knows he has been feeling more and more in your presence lately.
"I am trying to win the game." He tries, unable to look back at his father not out of fear of his judgement but desire for you to look his way just once. "I don't want this to reflect poorly on Malleus." Lilia laughs, forcing Silver to look at him empty handed with a look of disappointment his father knows he also is completely unaware of.
"Are you sure you aren't worried it will reflect poorly on you?" He watches as his son shifts, torn between wanting to spend time with him and return to his task. "After all, it isn't Malleus who is auditioning right now, is he?" And Lilia spares him the choice, flying off to said Lord as Crewel once again brings the band to a pause to name a student Silver is not sure he knows, and is surprised he does not care nearly as much about.
"Watch me." He silently promises you, bowing towards you just stealthily enough it is barely noticeable. "I will keep you safe prefect, I promise."
"You should give him a kiss when he wins." Lilia whispers into your ear and you nearly fall over the railing with how badly you start.
"L-lilia! I am not sure what you-"
"Or maybe a handkerchief with some perfume?" He is having too much fun at your expense to stop now. "That would suit the aesthetics much better don't you agree?"
383 notes · View notes
Text
Drunken Nights
Steve Rogers
Words: 1.6k
Summary: A bet has unforeseen consequences that drive Bucky Barnes insane.
Warnings: drinking, violence, swearing, mention of abortion rights, this is such a crack fic I'm sorry, reader insert mention at the end
Author's Note: This is my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza I used the prompt: "You are such a fucking menace.” and kinda sneaked it in because I've been sitting on this fic for at least a year 😅 The idea sparked because @rogerswifesblog and me had a conversation about this 🤭
Divider by @saradika-graphics
Tumblr media
It started out as a joke. It started with the Avengers discussing what kind of drunk Steve would be. Tony firmly believed he would be embarrassing, he would spill all the secrets he kept. Natasha thought he would pass out after two drinks. Clint was adamant that Steve would be a very touchy drunk. Thor believed that his friend would be as normal as ever. And Bruce honestly didn't have an opinion but after some pressing said Steve would be a dance machine when drunk. After a while Sam and Bucky were pulled into the discussion. As his best friends they had to know but they didn't. Bucky saw him drunk once, in the 40s, before the serum. And Steve honestly was just paranoid his mom would find out they drank a whole bottle of gin.
Steve was so annoyed with the topic and bets about his drunken state that he didn't say anything for the entire two hours this was passionately discussed. But he did agree on testing the theory. He hasn't been drunk since that one time Bucky mentioned and he was honestly intrigued. He had so many things he wanted to forget, even if it was for just a few hours. An empty brain for once, wouldn't that be nice?
Which is what brought him here. An Avengers party organised by Tony with a shit ton of guests. Three bottles of Asgardian liquor in front of him and his friends staring. The first bottle left a slight buzz. Steve could feel the effects of the alcohol but his brain was still functioning normal. The second bottle made him forget his worries. He had an easy smile on his face as his friends all surrounded him. The third bottle? He took along after his friends got distracted. They left him alone for a few moments too long. The senator he was verbally fighting before stood at the bar alone and Bucky's brain brought back an alarming feeling he hadn't had for a long time. "Fuck... We gotta find Steve!" He said, his voice panicked as he looked at the group of Avengers.
It was a quick search but they were fairly sure Steve wasn't here anymore. "Friday?" Tony's voice quibbed, all of the others’ eyes were on the brown haired man. "Captain Rogers has left the building with a tall male, identified as Jason Smith, bodyguard of senator Ernst, about five minutes ago." The AIs voice gave back, without even being asked the question.
"Told you he'd be very touchy." Clint says with a shrug and a grin. Natasha rolled her eyes at that but didn't seem that bothered. "No... No no no." Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. "fucking hell. He's gonna start a fight. He probably went outside with the bodyguard to start a fight in an alleyway." He grumbles. This couldn't be happening to him. Weren't all those years he had to pull Steve's asthmatic ass out of fights enough?
"Are we talking about the same Steve Rogers? He has a stick so far up his ass he even shook Rosses hand with a smile on his face." Tony quibbed. "He's just reverting to the idiot that couldn't stand back from a fight. I'm telling you." Bucky gave back, throwing his hands up in the air. "No way. Capsicle wouldn't. Even when shit faced drunk he's too righteous." Tony crossed his arms.
"Boys... I really hate to interrupt your little banter here but Smith is back... And... He doesn't look like he had a fun time with Steve." Natasha quirked an eyebrow as she took in the senators bodyguard. Bloody nose, already forming bruise under his eye and a limp in his step that hasn't been there before. "Fuck" both brunettes let out at the same time.
Tumblr media
"Hey Captain. Maybe you wanna lay off the liquor?" the tall man's voice interrupted Steve's rant about abortion rights. "Leave this discussion with senator Ernst for another time huh? We don't wanna run into any problems do we?" Steve's eyes took in the man in front of him. He's a professional sure but Steve had fought fucking aliens before. "Wanna take this outside?" It slipped out before he could even think about it. The bodyguard laughed, one hand landing on Steve's shoulder as if it was a joke. Funny banter. But Steve was serious. He was in the middle of telling senator asshat why abortion rights are important. Why women deserve the option to be safe and protected and to choose for their own bodies. Why his fucking religion has nothing to do with an uterus. And this guy has the nerve to think Steve's invitation for a fight is a joke? "I'm serious. Let's take this outside. If I win, senator a... Ernst changes his vote." Steve's voice was dangerous. If Smith hadn't seen him down two and a half bottles of liquor he'd believe he was sober. "Captain... By all means I'm working. I can't just go outside and start a fight over silly little matters." That got Steve's blood boiling. Of course that guy was also stupid. "Ah yes of course..." Steve gave back dryly. His hand moves to shove the senator next to them just a nodge. "And now? Now you gotta do your job and protect senator asshat. I can do so much worse than that." His blue eyes flickered, a smirk on his lips. Just a few minutes later Steve had handed Smiths ass to himself in an alleyway close by.
While Smith stomped off, fuming, Steve downed the rest of the bottle and threw it into a bin. He's drunk, he starts fights but he'll still recycle. Taking a deep breath he looks back to the tower. He couldn't be bothered to go back there. Maybe he could go for a walk? Maybe he could let out all this pent up anger and frustration and do something good with it. This is New York. There were enough criminals for him to use as punching bags right?
Tumblr media
"Captain Rogers. Can you please give us a statement as to how you took down this robbery all by yourself?" The blonde in front of him asked, holding the mic a bit too close to his face. He still pleasantly smiled. "Oh uh... I was just in the area and saw it happen... So I swooped in?" He explains, that stupid smile still on his face. As the women asks the next question he just starts to giggle. He runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry... Sorry... It's a serious topic but man Bucky is gonna be so mad at me" he giggles again.
"Damn right I will." Bucky mutters at his phone. There had been several reports of Captain America stopping crime in the last hour and every time one of the team got just a little closer to Steve's apparent location he somehow ended up in a different part of Manhattan. Bucky doesn't even want to know how many fights Steve had started tonight. Never again, he swears. Never again he'll let him get drunk.
After another hour Bucky finally had the blonde in front of him. He was yet again sucked into an interview and passionately ranted about how racism and Nazis suck when Bucky managed to approach. His arms were crossed, his face was stern.
"I think it's important that we show racists... Oh my gosh Bucky is gonna be so mad at me... Uh that we show racists that they're not welcome." Steve says before his eyes find his friend. "Shit." He curses, eyes wide before he runs off. Bucky lets out a sigh and follows him.
Tumblr media
To everyone's surprise Natasha managed to lure Steve back to the tower just two hours after Bucky had initially found him. She sets him up with the hangover necessities and leaves him to sleep the alcohol off. Tomorrow would be a big day of fixing whatever mess Steve got into. But that never came. Surprising to everyone Steve did a damn good job and the only 'scandal' that came off this was him saying shit on national TV. Which quickly became a meme.
"I don't regret it. And to be fair this is all of your fault. You wanted to see me drunk and then you invited senator Ernst? You know I hate that guy." Steve said, his arms crossed, his face pouty like a toddler. "Steve you can't just... You ran off and fought people on the street!" Bucky threw his hands in the air. "You shoved the senator so his bodyguard would fight you!" He adds, hoping his friend would see how crazy this was. "I'd do it again." Steve mumbles and looks away from his friends. Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh. "You are such a fucking menace.” He mutters to his best friend who proudly smiles, before addressing the group. “We can never let him get drunk again."
"I don't know, jelly shot Cap seems to be very effective. Maybe we should get him drunk before the next hydra base raid." Tony shrugs, clearly amused by the situation. "No!" Bucky groans. "No. No. No." His frustration is filling the room.
"We can be lucky that this is all he got into. Now let's stop whatever this is and get brunch." Clint suggests, sunglasses on his face, clearly hungover. Steve is very thankful for that. 'Yes Clint. Let's stop this, get brunch and I'll buy you 5 packs of premium coffee beans.' he thinks to himself. Just a few minutes longer and he'd spill what else he got into last night. And he doesn't need the jokes. He doesn't need the judgement. And he certainly doesn't want to share the cute tattoo artist with them -just yet.
88 notes · View notes
skelliko · 5 months
Note
Hello! I loved the "when you give him butterflies" it was adorable!! If u don't mind, could u do one for rindou? But feel free to ignore this if don't want to.
Have a good day 🌷
yes certainly! even though you requested rindou I might as well do inui too just so my page is organised :) sorry for the wait, my motivation has dropped but it's back up! for now at least.
★-Tokyo revengers
- you give him butterflies -pt 2
- pt1 -here
๑-context: your 'just friends' but after him getting those butterflies from you they realise their feelings
๑-featuring: rindou, seishu
Tumblr media
°- Rindou Haitani
• it was a bit of a shock to him, it left a warm sensation running down his body and his heart racing making him take a quick deep breath before slowly letting go all while trying to act cool, but really deep down he was left panicked
• butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach wasn't anything new but it certainly wasn't anything he's used to and knowing that your the cause for this fuzzy feeling he's getting is making him admire you in an entirely different way than before, his eyes glimmered and he was left a little speechless.
• you both were on a little trip to get something from a shop but rindou didn't know where to go since it was in a small town that he hasn't been to yet, there was a singular moment where he lost you because he was looking at the surroundings but once you found him you chose to hold onto his sleeve around his wrist
• you holding onto rindou's sleeve to drag him around and make sure that you both don't get split up, that was all fine and whatever but it was how your hand would occasionally brush against his hand and you still didn't let go nor fumble on your words
• in that moment rindou debated in either making you let go or just straight up holding your hand, but he didn't do either
• 'please let go... no dont let go' -in his mind
• even when you let go of him the butterflies and that warm feeling when your hand brushed against his still lingered and it almost felt like you never let go.
• there's no way you can get him free now, the physical grasp is gone but mentally it's as if you're holding onto him, he's confused about how he should feel and what's right or wrong because the worst thing that could happen between you two is never talking again, for once he's afraid of his own feelings.
°- Seishu Inui
• it was a bit of a step back for him. an odd feeling known as butterflies lingering in his stomach wasn't his plan at all and all his current focus has disappeared, it became difficult to concentrate and it was as if he has just got brain fog
• seishu was fixing his motorbike but as you sat down next to him your signature scent filled his nose and he felt a little at peace, well that was until his insides became a butterfly sanctuary. and taking a small look at you as you're admiring his hard work is certainly not helping him calm down for whatever this current feeling is.
• because how can you sit right next to him and accidently brush your knees together and look all pretty and cute? your torturing him. how can you be interested in his notes that he has scattered around about how to fix certain parts of the bike as if they interest you?
• how can you do all that and not kiss his cheek? or maybe lips... I mean you might as well considering how close you chose to sit next to him. well of course you didn't but Inui certainly had that on his mind that it was hard for him to look away from you
• he tried to look back at the motorbike and comfortably hold the wrench in hand to carry on but by that point he was afraid he would mess up because his heart was pounding way too much for his comfort and just your presence right here is making the air feel both sweet but heavy. he's nervous.
• he wants to open his chest with the wrench he's holding right now just to shut up his heart and make the butterflies leave
• this is definitely the start to his feelings but when will it end? when will he have the courage to change what you both have now, to be greater? he doesn't, but as of currently he wants you to leave just so he can quickly sort himself out because if you stay any longer he'd probably just impulsively confess without much thought.
 ♡----
259 notes · View notes
hatkuu · 6 months
Note
wow no one has mentioned this yet????? ig i’ll be the FREAK to do it: vamp!kylar will absolutely eat the hell out of u when u have ur period 🧛 he can probably smell when it’s approaching too and gets so excited. esp bc he gets so fixated on when ur ovulating so when he knows ur period is coming he’s like a fruit fly and starts rubbing his hands together all giddy like
- 🎀
oh my gosh yes. yes. i was too embarrassed to write about it but. period sex with ANY kylar constantly floats around my brain. vampire kylar would be sucking on his fingers like he'd just ate a drumstick from kfc. finger licking good HAHSJSJAK
afab reader, period sex, period mentions, reader wears a skirt, general creepy kylar stuff., kylar's weird scent kink thing is in this too...
drabble continued utc!
I think the first time you're having a period with your freakish vampire boyfriend around - he's visibly on edge. Kylar's gnawing at the palm of his hand while sitting next to you in the cafeteria, sweating as his other hand grips on the sleeve of his hoodie. You note that he is looking at everything and everyone except you.
You'll reach out to touch him, placing a reassuring hand on Kylar's shoulder.
"Are you okay, Kylar?"
Kylar flinches back like you've just burned him - eyes bulging out of his head as his hands quickly shield his face from view.
"Y-Yes! I-I'm fine! J-Just—"
He peeks at you through his fingers, pupils dilated until only a sliver of green remains.
"—I-It's just really hot i-in here."
You throw him a weird look, rolling your eyes as you stand up from the cafeteria table. You absolutely cannot deal with this shit right now. Being hit with wave after wave of crippling cramps, the last thing you needed was your boyfriend being noticeably disgusted with you. You shuffle awkwardy, trying not to cause yourself more pain as you stand. Does Kylar hate you now? Is he scared of you? Fuck, you don't know if your irritability is stemming from the slick, sticky blood feeling between your thighs or your boyfriend - lost in his own little world - ignoring you when you need him most.
A strangled, panicked sound escapes Kylar as you stand. The hand covering his face reaches outward, snatching your wrist with a disturbing amount of strength. You try to slip out of his grip - upset that now he wants to touch you - but he does not relinquish his hold no matter how much you tug against it. He exhales shakily, his nails dig into you - they've gotten long - really long.
"Y-You can't go— You can't."
You try to pull away with more force, spluttering with confusion as Kylar refutes your struggle with ease. He can't possibly be jealous - you've spent almost the entirety of this week with him - he's staring at you with this horrible, anguished expression. It's the last thing you want to see today. Your bottom lip twitches beneath your teeth, tears pricking your eyes in frustration.
"Kylar! Stop being so weird— What is wrong with you today?"
Your scuffle turn heads. You can feel so many eyes on you, looking at you and Kylar, laughing as they see Kylar's hand is latched onto your wrist. Only then do you notice the gaunt, sickly shade of his face. Heavy, darkened bags rest under his eyes. His lips are chapped too, more than they usually are. Speckled bits of dried blood rest in between the grooves of each crack. Kylar twitches, sweat slicking his choppily-cut fringe to his forehead. He looks ill. He tugs you closer, talking in a low tone that makes your stomach churn.
"You're— You're on your period."
What. The. Fuck.
You don't remember telling him it was that time of the month? How does he know—
"W-What? What does that have to do with anything?"
"J-Just— c-come with me—"
He breathes in shakily, composing himself as his eyes trail up your form, lingering far too long on the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He stands to meet your height, breathing heavily as you flood his senses with a scent that is so undeniably you. Sweet, but not too sweet. It makes his body buzz with a sickeningly fuzzy feeling. His mouth fills with sailva as you hold his gaze, scrutinizing him with your cutely furrowed brows and a jutted-out bottom lip.
"I-I need to tell you something."
You can see the desperation in his expression. His other hand shakes at his side, aching to latch onto you and never let go. Festering like a fresh wound, Kylar's carnal urges get the better of him. His other hand grabs your shoulder, pushing you closer towards his chest.
He smells different. Like dust, dirt and nothing all at once. He doesn't smell like garlic and pepper. Normally, you're assaulted with the scent of the plants - but strangely - it's gone entirely. You look up at Kylar, brows still furrowed in confusion because this is your boyfriend but... something is inherently wrong about him.
Kylar tugs you out of the cafeteria.
You don't struggle.
-
"I-I need to taste you—"
"H-Huh?"
Kylar pushes you into the dilapidated storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him as he grapples you against the wall, panting against your mouth.
"I haven't— You smell so good, a-and I just need this," He cuts himself off, snapping his gaze toward you incredulously from his position against you. He visibly shudders, twitching as he falls forward onto his knees, grounding himself between your thighs. He eagerly tugs your school skirt down, panting as he is met with your panties. "I-I need this. N-Need to feed f-from you— no one else."
"W-What! Kylar! We are in school right now! It'll be too messy a-and it'll get all over you-"
You choose to ignore your boyfriend's weird phrasing of eating you out. 'Feeding' from you is new.
His forehead rests heavy against your swollen uterus - you don't know what he's doing - until Kylar leans closer to your clothed pussy and begins sniffing you. Sniffing you - and moaning like he should have gotten between your thighs the moment you sat next to him in the cafeteria. You squeak, latching your hands in his hair in a pathetic attempt to steer him away from your bloodied thighs. Your tightened grip doesn't deter Kylar. He groans loudly, unashamed as he tilts into your touch, panting puffs of hot wet air against your skin.
"Y-Yes! Oh, y-you have to let me— you smell so perfect, j-just—ah—just let me taste you,"
He's so close, so close to snapping and just biting into the soft skin of your thighs. His eyes dart between your face and your clothed heat. His jaw is clenched tight, gnawing at the skin on the inside of his cheeks. Strained to the last thread of his patience, Kylar lets out a hoarse, weak sound. His fingernails jab painfully into your thighs, carnal desperation evident in each action. Despite this, he looks up to you, teary eyed from the struggle of holding himself back.
"P-Please."
You nod, loosening your grip in Kylar's hair as he practically vibrates with excitement. He tugs down your panties, eyeing the pad that sits at the seat of them as his tongue slides over his bottom lip hungrily. You whine as his fingers nestle themselves against your overly sensitive folds. Slick with blood and wetness, Kylar's fingers prod at your folds, eagerly pressing against the spots that make your knees weaken against his hold.
Kylar's tongue inches out to lave at the smeared blood across your inner thigh, moaning at the taste. He latches onto you, lips forming a tight seal against blood-slick skin, mixing red with clear saliva as Kylar's teeth brush against you. Two particularly sharp teeth nick your inner thigh and you tug his head backward as his fingers continue softly rubbing at your clit. He presses an apologetic kiss to the wound, affectionately licking at the punctures, careful not to let any of the blood spill onto your white school shirt.
"I-I knew it'd be good—" He gasps, his mouth and wet tongue making quick work of your other blood-smeared thigh. "Y-You're so—ah—so, so, delicious, my love."
You blush, opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend. Kylar's still twitching with excitement, tongue hanging out in anticipation as he nears your pussy. You whine weakly, pulling on his hair as dull throbbing cramps torment your lower abdomen. Kylar smiles at you, eyes much brighter - looking far less ill than before, too. He pulls his fingers away, admiring the sticky sheen of blood that coats them before quickly popping the digits into his mouth and moaning at the taste. He pushes you backward against the wall of the closet, spreading your thighs wide enough for his head to fit snugly between them.
He licks a stripe against the seam of your folds, eagerly lapping up the blend of arousal and blood. Your hands weave in his hair, pushing his nose against your clit as Kylar laves at your pussy, humming as your thighs trap him against your heat. Kylar groans, savouring the sweet, metallic taste of you against his tongue. He pushes closer, nestling his nose against your clit just close enough that with each press of his tongue against your entrance you cry out in pleasure, hands tightening in his dark hair. Kylar fucks you with his tongue until you're sobbing, wrapping an arm around each thigh to hold you firm against his mouth.
He moans as you grind against his tongue, chasing your release that hums deep within your core. Your grinding stutters as the coil burns hot within your stomach, tightening until it snaps.
You cry out as you cum, squirming as Kylar continues to hold you against his face. He groans, lapping up your arousal as it seeps onto his tongue. Your thighs clench against his head, quivering as Kylar slows his licking into gentle, loving laves against your pussy. He smiles as your hands fall from his hair. Kylar presses a loving kiss to your pussy, inching upward to press a kiss against your bloated abdomen as well. Even though he just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life, he's still so intimate with each of his actions, no matter how lewd or messy.
He pulls up your panties, your skirt, and readjusts the rest of your clothes before fixing his own.
Kylar stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then licking up the blood collected on it. He looks undeniably better than before; gone is the sickly tone of his skin, the heavy bags under his eyes, and now his eyes hold a twinkle that doesn't falter. He helps you up with ease, pulling you into his chest and nuzzling into your neck.
"Thank you," He whispers, smiling against your neck, pressing soft, affectionate kisses to the damp skin. You return his embrace even as your legs still tremble from the onslaught of pleasure Kylar gave you. You feel better now. Your boyfriend isn't disgusted at you. Quite far from it, actually. So you'll ignore that his teeth are sharper, that his skin is as cold as a cadaver's, that you swear his eyes were red at one point. He's your boyfriend. His strange, newfound affliction for blood doesn't mean anything. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder, breathing in his new scent of dirt, dust and nothingness. He giggles at your newfound neediness, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.
"Let's do this again tonight, okay?"
176 notes · View notes
arent-i-the-fairest · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬
you and him are bored and decide to start passing notes in class— when you’re caught and asked to read them in front of the class, you eat the note to avoid having to do it.
characters : ace trappola, cater diamond, floyd leech
author’s note : who doesn’t love making a good shitpost once in a while?
Tumblr media
you were so sure you would’ve been able to get away with passing the note.
trein had his back completely turned, scribbling away at the chalkboard, busy talking about some historical figure. it was the perfect opportunity, and you would’ve gotten away with it… if lucius wasn’t such a little snitch.
“prefect,” he called, and you fell back into your seat, trembling. fuck, this is it. you’ve been caught. “i trust that lucius wouldn’t lie to me. are you passing notes in my class?” he asked, arms crossed.
there were a couple of mocking “ooooh’s” across the classroom, and you rolled your eyes. what is this? primary school?
“yes sir, yes it is.” you admitted, glaring right into lucius’ beady little eyes. the cat was completely unfazed by and just sat there, grooming himself.
“i see. well, why don’t you come to the front of the class and read it aloud for all of us?” he asked. you froze. “i’m sure if it was something you couldn’t wait to tell your friend after class, it must be very interesting.”
you stuttered, gripping the note in your hand. you looked over at your boyfriend as if asking for help, but he shrugged his shoulders uselessly. internally crying, you carry our the best plan your brain can think of right now. “i’m sorry, mr. trein, but i can’t.”
he raised an eyebrow at your response. “and why is that?”
“because,” you stuff the paper in your mouth, chewing it, and swallowing it. “there’s no more note for me to read.” you say triumphantly. checkmate, grandpa.
you and trein stare at each other for about a minute.
“…. prefect, please step out into the hall.” damn it.
ace trappola
he’s laughing throughout the whole thing, you just know he’s never gonna let this shit go. he’s gonna bring it up like at least five times per day. starts full on cackling when you get kicked out of the classroom and ends up getting kicked out too for being too much of a disruption.
he sits down next to you in the hall, starting to snicker again when he sees your ashamed face.
“was eating the note really the only solution that brain of yours could come up with?” he snickered. “you couldn’t have just ripped it up instead?”
“look, i was panicking! people do dumb things when they panic— besides, would you rather of let me read what you said about riddle to the class instead?” you ask with a smirk, watching his face pale at the thought of his shit-talk about riddle spread around the school.
he didn’t need anymore trouble with his dorm leader, he’s tired of having to do extra chores around heartslabyul. “yeah, no. you got me there.”
cater diamond
#y/nwhywouldyoudothat 💔💔 but no really, why would you? it’s bewildering, really! there wasn’t even anything gossipy or such that would get you two in trouble— it was an innocent convo, you guys were just writing to each other about your plans for the weekend! he’s gotta admit it was pretty funny though, and he’s totally gonna tease you a bit for it.
with class finally over, cater ran up to you with a smirk. upon seeing him, you sighed, knowing you were about to be clowned on.
“y’know, i think what you did is pretty magicam worthy,” he hums, pulling out his phone. “i might make a post about it!”
“you better not!” you swipe for his phone and he skillfully dodges.
“but it might hit trending!”
floyd leech
with this, you’ve officially landed yourself as #1 in floyd’s ‘most interesting people’ list, and i’m not too sure whether you should be happy or horrified about it. he’s grinning as he watches you dejectedly walk out of the classroom when a lightbulb goes off in his head— he pulls out a post-it and a pen and scribbles away.
after your 10 minute scolding from trein about why you shouldn’t pass notes in class and why you shouldn’t eat them, you rush towards your seat, trying to ignore all the eyes on you.
but when you pass by floyd, he pushes a crumpled up post-it note in your hand. you quickly force it into your pocket before trein could notice and send your ass back into the hall.
when you’re back in your seat, you dig it out and quietly unfold it under the table. after reading it, you click your tongue.
‘will you eat this note too, shrimpy?’ with a poorly drawn smiley face under it.
3K notes · View notes
bro-atz · 5 months
Text
a virgin's dream
Tumblr media
in which: jinsik has even more to learn (wink wonk)
pair: idol!jinsik/afab!reader
word count: 2.3k
content: smut, first time sex, sofa sex, unprotected sex (remember to wrap it up irl!), slight cockwarming?, completely consensual!
author's note: as promised, here's the second part to virgin!jinsik because we definitely developed further than just the bj @eyeryis
tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two
Tumblr media
“Baby,” you told Jinsik as you wiped your mouth and stood up. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”
“Huh?!”
And with that, you disappeared, leaving Jinsik all sorts of flustered— there he was, naked from the waist down and covered in his own cum. He was panicking internally for about two minutes before you returned. You saw tears prick his eyes and immediately cupped his face, your thumbs wiping the corners of his eyes.
“Where’d you go?” he said, his voice cracking.
“I just wanted to clean my mouth because I wanna kiss you, but I didn’t wanna gross you out since I just gave you a blowjob,” you explained calmly.
Jinsik blinked at you. He never thought about something like that, and he was honesty kind of grateful you did because, you were right, it would have grossed him out a little. You smiled at his adorable face and placed a light kiss on his lips. Jinsik closed his eyes and kissed you back, his nose rubbing against yours slightly as your kisses intensified.
The kisses were nice and all, but to be honest, Jinsik desperately wanted to keep going. He wanted to make you feel good now.
“Y-Y/N, um,” Jinsik stuttered as he leaned away from you slightly. “Please, can we, uh… Can we go further? Can I…?”
“Are you sure? We don’t have protection…”
Jinsik’s eyes trembled as they went wide. He didn’t even think about that. You could see all of the emotions in the world cross his face as he tried to gauge the limited options you had, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. You kissed him lightly and whispered, “Baby, it’s okay if you want to do it. We can do it without protection.”
“A-are you sure? We don’t have to if it’s—”
“I’m sure. I want this as much as you do… I don’t think I’ll be able to curb my lust otherwise. I’m on the pill, so it should be okay.”
Jinsik hiccuped as he replied, “Oh-okay.”
“Only this one time though, okay? We should be safer the next time.”
Hearing you say that there was going to be a next time lit a fire within him. He got so excited that he felt like he was about to jump over the moon or something at that point. Then, his brain died— you started stripping.
You stripped right in front of him, and you stripped so slowly, giving him a tiny little show in the process. This was his first time, after all, so you wanted to do his first time justice.
Jinsik had never seen you naked before, and while you did look somewhat like what he had imagined at some point, he was still not prepared for what you had coming for him. His eyes couldn’t help but lock onto the matching bra and panty set that you (thankfully) wore that day, and he was about to drool just looking at you, just staring at you.
You noticed his dick slowly harden the longer he stared at you, prompting you to tell him softly, “Baby, do you wanna kick your pants off for me?”
It was almost comical the way Jinsik listened to you so fast. His pants went flying into a corner of the room, and his eyes glinted eagerly at you. You straddled him and sat gently on his lap, his rock hard cock pressing against you. It was when you placed your hands lightly on his shoulders did his jaw completely drop.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N, my love…” he murmured, making your face flush pink.
Jinsik’s hands rested on your waist as you brought your lips to his to place a light kiss. Your kisses deepened, and Jinsik’s hands rubbed along your waist, his fingers aching to feel the softness of your skin, making you moan slightly into his mouth. Jinsik felt his dick throb painfully the more you turned him on, and it took everything in him to keep it together just so that he wouldn’t fully obliterate you.
When you stopped kissing him, he let out the most adorable whine that made you, too, want to fuck him fast and hard. But, the reason you kissed him, was so that you could pull his shirt off, revealing his toned torso— and that’s when you realized you actually had never seen your boyfriend naked before until that moment. You were honestly very surprised to see how toned he was, but then again, he was constantly practicing, and his arm muscles were already insane as it is, so why would you expect any less from the rest of his body?
“Oh, God, Jinsik,” you inhaled sharply. “You’re so hot… I don’t think I can control myself.”
“Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” Jinsik responded softly. “Have your way with me, and teach me, please.”
“Okay, then… Take my bra off for me.”
Jinsik promptly did as you asked— well, it took him a second because he was confused by how hooks on a bra worked, but when he figured it out, he pulled at the center of your bra and immediately pulled it off you before tossing it aside haphazardly. The second he got one look at your bare breasts, he nearly drooled and his eyes nearly bore a hole through them. His hands, which were frozen on your waist, moved to your chest with your guidance, and immediately, the boy knew exactly what you wanted him to do.
At first, Jinsik squeezed and kneaded your breasts delicately, but after a few seconds of that, he brought his lips to your nipple and left a light kiss before fully planting on it and sucking painfully on it. Your back arched and pushed you further into him the harder he sucked. Jinsik, as unexperienced as he was, knew how to suck your tits and he knew how to suck them so fucking well because you were steadily losing more and more of your mind. You clung to his shoulders and let out light, raspy moans while trying to make sure you didn’t dig your nails into his skin— you didn’t want to hurt him just yet since it was his first time.
“Baby,” you whispered in between sweet moans. “I want you inside me.”
Blood rushed to several places in Jinsik’s body when he heard you utter those words. He looked up at you, his eyes blurry and dazed as he gave you a slight nod. Sitting up, you moved your panties to the side, positioned him at your entrance, and slowly sat down.
Jinsik wasn’t absurdly large or anything, but he still stretched you out, and he was long enough for his cock to go deep inside you. You gasped and bit your lower lip, leaning your head back as you remained seated and fully savored the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock filling you up.
Meanwhile, Jinsik was seeing stars. He felt like your pussy was molded just for his cock, and was obsessed. His thoughts were getting dirtier by the second, and he desperately wanted to speak his mind.
Your pussy is so hot that I feel like it’s going to melt my fucking dick off.
But, Jinsik couldn’t bring himself to say that. Those kind of words were not in his gentleman’s dictionary. So, instead, he said softly, “You’re so warm, baby. Oh God… I’m melting.”
You brought your head down and looked at him, his eyes half-lidded, and a woozy smile on his face. You felt his hand move from your waist to the back of your head before he guided your head down, his lips meeting yours gently. He kissed you softly, his other hand gripping your waist with a sense of urgency.
Jinsik wanted to be patient. He wanted to take things at your pace, but fuck, he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to see the way your body moved as you bounced up and down on his lap. And, again, he wanted to vocalize these thoughts to you, but his mind was all over the place.
Luckily, you read his mind and said, “I’m going to start moving, okay?”
He gave you a slight nod and moved his hand back down so that both of them rested on your waist. You clung to his shoulders as began to raise and lower yourself at a slower, steady pace, immediately making him moan. He held onto your waist tightly, unintentionally making you clench, causing him to groan in pure bliss.
It wasn’t until you sped up did Jinsik realize that he was not going to be able to hold out the same way he did when you were giving him the blow job. He was already breathless and letting out breathy signs and moans the more you bounced.
You moved your hands to grip onto the back of the sofa, allowing you to bounce your ass rapidly on his lap, his length nearly hitting your cervix in the process. You couldn’t help but let out little cries every time your waist hit his lap, and your cries turned into loud moans when you felt Jinsik thrust up, his waist slamming into yours as he met you halfway.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good— I can’t hold out much longer,” Jinsik said through gritted teeth as he leaned his head back and pressed it against the sofa cushion.
“Cum inside,” you said while panting.
Jinsik responded with a meek nod, his eyes squeezed shut as he did his best to hold out. It was when you held his face and kissed him passionately did his entire body tremble. He pushed your waist down and kept you there as his cock twitched and shuddered, his cum spurting and filling you up entirely. The two of you were breathless as you remained seated, his cum slowly starting to dribble down onto his thighs.
Just as you were about to get off his lap, Jinsik moved you so that he was pinning you down on the sofa, his cock still deep inside you. You stared at him with wide eyes, his eyes dark and lustful gazing right back at you.
“We’re not done just yet, Y/N,” Jinsik said, his voice low.
You felt your fingers and toes tingle with excitement upon hearing him say that. You wordlessly wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he gripped your waist again, preparing to move.
“How are you still so tight?” Jinsik gasped as he slid his dick back and forth inside you.
The sound of his waist hitting yours echoed in the room as he moved slowly but powerfully. You grasped his hair tightly in your fists, moans and gasps leaking out of you like anything. You bit your lower lip to try and keep your noises to yourself, but Jinsik didn’t like the fact that you were biting on your lip so hard that you might’ve actually started bleeding, so he pressed his hands against the sofa right above your shoulders and lowered his head to kiss you, his lips enveloping your lower lip.
Jinsik’s gyrations got stronger, causing you to moan against his lips. Jinsik felt his orgasm approaching once again. He pressed his lips against yours even harder, his cock pushing further and further into you with each thrust. You saw stars flood your vision when he went so far deep and tapped your cervix with the tip, and you moved your head away from him and cried out as you came, your knees and thighs shaking as the wave of pleasure overtook you.
Seeing you on cloud nine because of how well he fucked you made him elated, but it also made him unable to hold his own load yet again. Groaning, he slammed his waist against your buttocks and came in you again, his hot load warming you up.
Moments later, Jinsik collapsed on top of you, his face buried in the nook of your neck. He was still inside you as the two of you shifted and laid on your side, his arms wrapped around your waist as you rested one on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head. His face moved from your neck to your breasts, his nose pressed in between them.
“Mmm, baby, that was amazing,” Jinsik mumbled into your skin.
“You liked it that much, huh?” you asked with a tiny giggle.
“It was perfect. Perfect, just like you.”
You felt your face heat up with his compliment. He looked up at you with the most precious, content smile on his face, his arms hugging you closer to him. You pressed a light kiss against his forehead.
“Baby, I think we should get cleaned up before the guys get home,” you said softly.
“They’ll be out for another hour, Y/N. Let’s just stay here for a bit…”
“No, they’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”
“…We fucked for that long?”
Jinsik looked at you with wide eyes, making you do your best to stifle a laugh. You nodded in response, the boy immediately pulling out and sitting up. He grabbed tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and cleaned you up first before cleaning himself, his hands moving quickly and hurriedly.
“Let’s take a shower, Jinsik,” you told him.
“T-together?” Jinsik’s face started turning red.
“Yes, together. We don’t have that much time left before they get here.”
Tumblr media
“How was it?” was the first thing Minjae said to you and your boyfriend upon returning to the dorms.
“How’d you know?!” Jinsik exclaimed, mortified as he thought Minjae was talking about the fact that the two of you had sex.
“…You told us you were going to watch a movie with Y/N?”
Jinsik’s face went bright red. You cackled and responded, “We ended up watching a drama instead. It was good.”
You felt Jinsik’s eyes land on you and smiled as you gazed into his eyes.
“Really good.”
96 notes · View notes
artsyannierose · 8 months
Text
Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf
randomly made a crap ton more sense to me
why?
fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))
Tumblr media
Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style
and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)
Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today
maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays
I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀
*cough* Nene *cough cough*
So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS
LIKE
IDK THEYRE PRETTY
Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it
Tumblr media
(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)
but like
there’s no
life
no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)
it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color
and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time
you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas
And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious
No she’s literally, physiologically dead
Tumblr media
THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING
Tumblr media
she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭
and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch
so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it
he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside
…just like him
the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse
he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨
Tumblr media
I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou
Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective
even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)
and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him
and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms
and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao
and he was unbelievably adamant about it too
I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days
seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me
Look at the difference:
Happy
Tumblr media
vs Sad/Determined
Tumblr media
vs Depressed (ig??)
Tumblr media
vs Dead
Tumblr media
She still has so much emotion in her eyes
and then d e a d
literally looks like a porcelain doll
wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it
I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out
Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-
IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES
send help
anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-
149 notes · View notes
ithebookhoarder · 8 months
Note
Hi love! Could I request an Anakin X reader where he comforts reader after a panic attack?
Reacting to Reader having a panic attack: (Anakin Skywalker x Reader)
A/N: Of course you can! Here you go. You can thank Ahsoka for breaking me and getting me back into my feels for this disaster of a human being 😅
Tumblr media
Masterlist:
Tumblr media
Anakin is much more a man of action rather than a man of words and will actively look for a practical solution for any problem, including panic attacks.
It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t fully understand them, or that there isn’t necessarily a physical threat that he can fight on your behalf, he will do whatever he can to best help you. 
That would include using his trademark sass and boyish jokes to distract you whenever he senses you’re feeling low (something you both love and hate in equal measure). 
“Hey, Y/N. I was thinking, how does a moon cut his hair?" 
“Anakin… I swear to the maker-"
“-Eclipse it."
It’s easy to see why Obi-Wan started to turn grey the day he took Anakin on as a Padawan. 
Then again, as much as you may protest against it, it’s hard to do anything other than laugh at his desperate attempts to cheer you up. 
Anakin also creates private rituals for you both to follow whenever you feel an attack creeping up on you. 
These include things like going to exercise together, as you find sparring or racing around a local park is a great way to burn off any pent up anxiety (and often leads to you both rolling around on the floor, sweaty and too busy being wrapped up in one another to feel anything other than pleasure). 
It also sometimes involves him taking you aside and helping you to ground yourself to him and your surroundings. 
It even sometimes involves him crawling into bed and holding you whilst you sleep, knowing his warmth and his presence helps to keep your worries at bay. 
On that note, we know he has no problem bending the rules when it comes to those he cares about and you’d be no exception. 
Nothing else in the universe matters more to him and your well-being comes before anything else, including the Jedi code. 
It doesn’t matter if the council will reprimand him later, if you need him he’ll be there. He’d find a ship and get to you the minute you called, or the minute he sensed your panic through the force. 
A smaller thing Anakin would do, is he starts carrying around sour candies for you, knowing how you like them and how they help distract your brain when it starts to feel overwhelmed. 
You almost couldn’t believe it the first time he handed one to you without so much as a word. Instead he simply unwrapped one for himself and winked. 
You also can’t tell me he wouldn’t be keeping a special eye on you, reaching out at the first sign of trouble, just as he sensed his mother’s distress before. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, he’ll call you if he isn’t with you, just to make sure you’re alright. 
Even if it isn’t too bad an attack, he would still pull you from any duties you may have for the rest of your day, insisting you rest for a while even if he has to make you. 
He also strikes me as the kind of friend who tries to act like they’re less stressed out about your issues than you, but inside is panicking like crazy. So much so, he has to instruct Rex and Ahsoka to keep an eye out for you if he can’t, else he’ll be too worried to ever leave your side in case you need him.
He may or may not have written a very extensive list of things to do and not to do if you ever have one without him - something both privately tease him about...
153 notes · View notes
ihearthes · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Christmas Thyme part 1
Author: @ihearthes
Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)
Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)
Word Count: 2665
‘Tis a week before Christmas, and just as I am preparing to twist the “Open” sign to its “Closed” side, the bell over the door jingles. Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I paste on my brightest smile as I pivot towards my (hopefully) final customer of a very long, very exhausting day. 
I freeze. 
Because standing there in the doorway of my boutique is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. You know. As It Was. Watermelon Sugar. Sex on a stick. That last one isn’t a song. Just a description. 
“Um, hi,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say, but then I quickly tack on a “How may I help you?” 
His eyebrows draw downwards, and he looks around at the merchandise which, after a long day of Saturday sales in the last few frantic days before the most important gift-buying holiday of the year, is scattered everywhere. 
I’ve no idea if I want him to decide to leave immediately or if I should beg him to stay and shop. I do neither. 
But only because I spot another person on the street outside, pointing at one of the most sought after and most frequently purchased soy candles. She and her friend appear to be heading towards the door, so I summon the last of my energy and lunge for the door ahead of them, pulling the shade while simultaneously rotating the lock. My panicked movements mean I jostle the popstar as he stands nearby. 
“Oops! I’m so sorry. I just…” 
“Are you open or closed?” He asks, worry etched on his forehead where it peeks out underneath his black beanie. I take him in, recognising his face instantly. With a pair of joggers, he wears a black Pleasing crewneck, and I’m briefly jealous of how cosy it looks. I wouldn’t mind snuggling close – to the crewneck, of course. 
I am, after all, a competent businesswoman. Pfft. Okay, I’m trying to be one. 
“We’re closed now, but if you don’t have much to shop for, you’re welcome to look around while I tidy up in preparation for Tuesday’s maniacal clientele. 
He grunts, and I assume it’s affirmation that he’d like to look around, so I nod. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or shopping for a certain someone?” Wracking my brain, I attempt to recall if he’s currently dating anyone, but I’ve no idea. Since opening up my pop up last month, I’d not had time to do much more than work daily until exhaustion forces me to crawl into bed with a heating pad on my back and warm peppermint compresses on my feet. 
“Just looking…” He smiles, and I’m nearly blinded by the left dimple. 
Holy shit. No wonder he’s so popular. 
I have the silly idea that I should sniff him. It would be easy to make a tonne of money from bottling his scent and selling it. Then I would have enough money to set up a permanent shop to sell my organic candles, soaps, and lotions. 
Resisting only because I have managed to maintain some self-respect after being yelled at and cursed at by customers all day long, I decide to provide him some privacy. 
“Absolutely. Let me know if you have any questions.” 
He nods once, and I swear my insides melt into a puddle like Frosty the Snowman when the sun has come out. 
Stepping to the counter, I fiddle with the sound system, turning off the grating holiday tunes that permeate the atmosphere this time of year and sliding instead into some soothing jazz from Alfa Mist. As soon as the first song starts playing, Harry’s head whips around and he stares in my direction. 
“Excellent choice.” His voice is gravelly and kind with a bit of surprise in it. 
“It’s the kind of music I prefer,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. 
“Me too.” 
It’s such a surprising thing for him to say that I do my own double take, but he’s returned already to smelling the candles on the wall display. 
Shrugging, I move to the first shelves to the right of the register, straightening products, and making mental notes of what I need to restock. When I move to the next set of shelves, though, it’s clear that a mental note isn’t going to be of any help. There are simply too many hand lotions, soaps, and other products that need to be replaced. Sighing, I move behind the counter again, withdrawing a pad of paper. Quickly, I jot down what I need to replace on the first two shelves. 
Turning my head, I see that Harry has barely finished sniffing one shelf of candles. “Um…” He glances up at my utterance. “...would you mind if I stepped into the back to grab some more stock?” 
“Whatever you need to do.” His voice is so silky that I could easily wear it and nothing else against my skin forever. 
In the small stockroom, I remove my shoes, wiggling my toes that have been screaming at me for the last two hours. Grabbing a basket I keep for just this purpose, I fill it with the items on my list before stepping back onto the main floor. The coolness of the tiles under my toes is soothing, and I sigh at the pleasure of it on my hot skin. Quickly, I restock the first two shelves, giving my feet a workout as I have to rise onto my toes multiple times. My knees also get to practise squatting so I can place items on the bottom shelf. 
After I slide my protesting feet back into my shoes, I sneak a peek to check on Harry. He’s moved on to the next set of shelves, opening the sample shampoos and smelling them one by one. 
At this rate, he’ll be here another hour at least. 
Surveying the third set of shelves, I jot down the merchandise I need to pull from the back for this one. It’s the shelf of eye compresses I’ve made that include differing herbs to soothe the skin around the eyes and quiet the mind. With a quick glance at Harry, I return to the storeroom, trying to recall where I’d placed the box holding more eye compresses. 
Spying it on a higher shelf, hiding behind a box of the scented rice neck pillows I’d designed to be heated and worn next to the skin, I stand on my tiptoes in order to reach. Just — one — more — inch — CRASH! Both boxes clatter to the ground, the sides splitting open on the box holding the neck pillows, and I sigh. 
“Are you okay?” 
His voice startles me, and I jump like that time I’d been forced to watch a horror movie by my previous boyfriend. The arsehole. 
Placing my hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart, I smile at where his head has emerged through the curtain separating the sales floor and stockroom. 
“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay. Just knocked off a couple of boxes.” 
“Shit. That looks annoying. Let me help.” He muscles his way past the curtain, assisting me by setting the box right side up. I locate the roll of packing tape I’d used earlier to package some items for a customer who wanted them delivered, handing the tape to Harry as he repairs the box. “I’m Harry.” His introduction is endearing, and I share my name too. 
“No one else working tonight?” His hushed tones do things to my body that are inappropriate for work. 
“No one else is working ever. It’s my shop, and I couldn’t afford to pay for help this year.” 
“Damn. How do you manage?” 
“Well, I take it slow on nights like this with the restocking and tidying because I know I’ll get the next two days to soak my feet and relax.”
“But how do you do it during the day with all the customers?” 
“I think that’s clear from the state of the front. I muddle through.” My shrug is intended to communicate that there’s no real answer to that question. 
“Can I help?” 
“YOU?” I yelp, clamping both hands over my mouth at my shriek. 
“Why not me?” 
“Um, cause you’re Harry Styles.” 
When he smiles this time, his eye crinkles come into focus, and I’m lost in him. I could stare at those crows’ feet all night, I think. 
“And that means I can’t help?” 
“It means that you probably have plenty of plans that don’t include stocking shelves.” 
“Hmmm… tonight, I actually do not have plans. My sister and I were supposed to shop for our mum, and then my sister ended up ill, so…” Trailing off, he raises both hands to the side in imitation of a shrug. “You can pay me by helping me choose gifts for my mum and my sister. And my manager’s wife. And maybe the wives of my friends.” 
“That’s silly. I’d help you with that for free.” 
“Ah, well then, you can take me out to dinner after we’re done.” 
My jaw drops. Dinner with Harry Styles? 
Is he asking me out on a date? 
“Just as repayment, right?” I ask. 
“For starters,” he smirks, and my panties become uncomfortable as I rub my legs together. “I’ll take these boxes out front.” Bending his knees, he picks up the box of neck pillows with the box of eye compresses on top. Striding through the curtain, he drops the boxes on the floor and immediately starts artfully arranging the merchandise. Occasionally, he brings a pillow to his nose and breathes in deeply. 
Mesmerised, I watch from the door to the store room. After a few minutes, he removes his coat, carefully draping it over the counter, smiling at me as I straighten the bottles of lotion on the table, ensuring that the rosemary mint doesn’t get mixed up with the rosemary thyme. It’s easy to get them confused as the labels are similar. 
“How long did it take you to prepare all of this?” Harry asks, his hand encompassing the entire shop. 
“All year. My dad –” I pause as emotion invades my throat, layering it with sorrow. Finally, I swallow, clearing the grief. “My dad was ill for the last couple of years, so I quit my job to move in and take care of him. I started growing the herbs in his garden. And then I needed something to do with all of the herbs I grew, so I started making soaps and selling them at the local farmer’s market. Demand was swift, and I’ve been expanding the line for the last eight months or so.” 
“That’s amazing!” His face has lit up like the Christmas tree that’s in the corner of the shop, and his grin takes over his entire countenance. “And how’s your dad doing now?” 
I wince. “He actually died in July.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” 
My watery smile hopefully conveys my gratitude. “He was ready to go. At least that’s what he told me. And I needed a project after his death to keep me busy while I cleaned out the house and prepared to sell it.” 
“Sell it? Why?” 
Moving to the next table, I straighten the bars of soap. Wiping a tear from my eye, I answer his question. “Too many memories. I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and now I’m the only one left in my immediate family. So when I’m in the house, all I can see are the people no longer with me.” 
“That must be hard.” His hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m startled because I hadn’t realised he’d approached. 
“It’s life. Lucky for me, I have my dreams to keep me going.” 
“Dreams of expanding beyond a popup shop at the holidays?” 
“Something like that,” I nod. 
“Sounds lovely. Listen, I’m done with these shelves, and those over there look pretty good. I, um, straightened them earlier when I was testing the product. Is there a broom so I can sweep up?” 
Astonished, I blink at him. “No. No. No. I draw the line at having a number one pop musician sweep my floor.” 
He giggles, his laugh growing until he’s slapping his knee, his full body moving with glee as he heartily releases his mirth. “So if I were the number one classical musician or number one jazz musician or number one country musician, you’d be okay with me cleaning the floor?”
Seeing the humour in my comment, I laugh along with him. “Okay. Okay. You’ve found me out. Only pop musicians aren’t allowed to sweep up. Everyone else is fair game.” 
Bopping me on the nose, he grins. “Good thing I’m not a number one pop musician tonight. I’m just a customer who is quite taken with your goods.” 
And the way he rakes his eyes over my body lets me know that he’s not talking about the merchandise on the shelves. 
Dammit. Why don’t I keep a pair of spare knickers in my bag in case I run into the handsomest man alive? Because the ones I’m wearing right now are ruined. 
Sticking his head through the curtain and peering into the back, he joyfully exclaims, “There it is!” Seconds later, he’s pushing the broom around the shop floor, and I am both pleased and appalled. 
Reluctant to let him do all the work, I watch him and squirm. Using the broom as a partner, he dances to the music, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes. 
“I remember when you couldn’t dance at all,” I reveal, then clamp my hands over my mouth at my rudeness. 
“Some would say I still can’t.” 
“Screw ‘em.” I grin. “Listen, I’m about to count up the money for a night deposit. Are you planning to pay with cash or credit?” 
Wincing, he bites his lip, resting his arm on top of the broom handle. “Oh yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was here to shop.” He looks around at the merchandise. “You’re taking me out for dinner, right?” One eyebrow raises while the other stays in place. It’s a talent not many have. 
“I believe that was the deal in exchange for your labour.”
“Then let’s eat first. I can tell you about those I need to shop for, and you can decide what would be most fitting for each.” 
“Hmmm…” I tease, “Are you trying to get out of buying products from me?” 
“Nope,” he grins, stepping closer to me. “Trying to let you get to know me more.” 
“Who's to say I don’t already know everything about you?” 
“Ah, I see.” The expression on Harry’s face is smug. “You wanna have a quiz? Find out what exactly you know and don’t know?” 
“Sure,” I smile, “but somehow I’m not sure I trust you. You could easily say all of my answers are wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to contradict you.” 
“Let’s start. What colour are my eyes?” 
“Are you taking the piss? They’re green. That one’s easy ‘cause I can see them.” 
“Okay, okay. You got one right. What colour are my lips?” 
Which of course drags my eyes right to the body part in question. And they look lush. Soft. Slightly chapped, but not enough to keep me from… 
Shit. I’ve gotten lost in staring at his lips. 
“I didn’t hear your answer.” 
My tongue dips out to lick my own lips, and he steps closer, his eyes locked on my tongue. Shaking my head, I dart my gaze back to his eyes, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. Leaning forward, he reaches his arm to my left, and I briefly wonder if he’s going to wrap his arm around my waist and haul me to him for a snogging session. 
Which is when he grabs his coat from the counter. 
“Let’s count the money so you can make your deposit. I’m getting hungry.” 
Really? I'm experiencing a powerful thirst.
Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please reblog. I know not everyone reblogs, but it really helps writers out.
READ PART 2 HERE
139 notes · View notes
witch-hazels-musings · 10 months
Text
favorite distraction 
warning: sfw, fluff, spice - character perspective - pining 
includes: Alhaitham (pre-relationship), Childe, Diluc, Thoma
character x gn reader | anthology 
Tumblr media
Alhaitham
Alhaitham pinched the hairs on his eyebrow while he read the book sprawled on his desk. The words enticing him into deep thought even as he turned page after page. Every once in a while he’d come across a passage that made him roll his eyes but he never followed through with the action - it was more of a ‘in his head’ type of response. One that also reminded him to unclench his jaw. 
A flicker of light drew his attention. It started with curiosity but quickly spiraled into a focused observation as every synapse in his brain fired while looking at you. 
You weren’t doing anything spectacular. Mostly you were organizing a stack of documents he planned on dealing with later. It wouldn’t have taken him very long after all but he also found no reason to stop you if it saved him from doing work down the line. 
Surprisingly you never complained. If you did it wasn’t to his face. Or, at least, he thought so - to be honest there were a few times he disassociated when you talked to him. It wasn’t necessarily because what you were telling him was boring, it was more like it set off a chain-reaction in his head that he had to follow to its conclusion. 
He could note several occasions where you set off his brain - one of them being now. 
Your body language for-warned him you were about to turn his way so he dropped his gaze to his book. 
“Alhaitham?” He placed his hand on the page and looked up at you. His expression remained unaffected but the rest of him didn’t. His lungs breathed you in, his fingers twitched at how close you were. He wasn’t a man of many wants, preferred the simple things. A relationship was none of those - he didn’t need it. “I’m sorry but,” you pushed a form his way, the pages were sealed together but you’d turned to one in the stack and pointed at the bottom, “You forgot to sign this one.” 
He leaned toward the document, his hair brushing over your arm making you pull it back quickly. “Oh.”
“Let me know when you’ve finished.” You mumbled before rushing back to the stack of papers. Alhaitham was painfully aware of the way people looked at him, talked to him or about him, scoffed at his decisions no matter the kind. He wasn’t oblivious to their reactions, just indifferent to them. Why should he care - people should focus on themselves and not the lives of others. 
But --
Grabbing a pen, he signed the document and verified there wasn’t another one missing. He considered letting you check back in to find it was finished but, instead, he rose from his chair, placed the book he was reading upside down to not lose his place, and made his way toward you. 
“Here,” he called to you when he was close enough, his hand resting on the table. You were surprised to see him. Didn’t you just say to let you know when he was finished?
“T-Thank you,” you stumbled over your words as you took the document and placed it in the pile. He noticed you stealing several glances his way while you worked. “Um - did you need anything else?” You asked and, honestly, he didn’t know what to say to that. 
“No,” he answered which should have been the end to it ... 
But -- 
“You’re distracting.” He blurted out with an empty expression. Eyes locked on your face, taking in everything you did. 
Panicked, you looked at him, “I’m - oh - I’m sorry. I can leave?” He didn’t respond, so you did, “Yeah, right, I’ll leave. So sorry,” It was like watching a bird desperately try to grab all the twigs from the forest floor before fluttering away to their nest. He thought about helping but ultimately didn’t. 
“Alhaithaaaam,” a familiar voice broke his fixation on you. The blond burst through the door to his office so loudly it made you jump and back up into him. “Hey, I forgot my -- oh, hello, y/n,” Kaveh smiled and waved at you but all Alhaitham could focus on was the feeling of your arm against his palm and how warm you felt. 
“H-hello ... bye,” you said in one fluid sentence before dipping out the door and disappearing all together. 
Kaveh made his way toward the table, his head swiveling multiple times as if he were processing what had just happened as slowly as a turtle crawls. It took Alhaitham two tries to answer whatever question was thrown his way. 
“What did you say?” 
“My keys? Do you have them?” Kaveh asked and raised his brow. “Are you okay? You look ... odd ...” 
“I’m fine,” he huffed and turned to head toward his desk. 
“Okay ... well did you say anything mean to y/n? They looked odd too -” 
“You’re distracting.” 
“Huh? What did I do?” 
“No, I told them, ‘you’re distracting.’“ 
“Oh.” ... “OH!” Kaveh shoved the scholars shoulder before snatching his keys, “That’s so rude! Why would you say that?” 
“Why? It’s the truth.” 
“You can’t just tell people they're bothering you like that -” 
“I didn’t say, ‘bothering me,’ I said, ‘distracting.’” 
“I don’t hear a difference.” Kaveh crossed his arms and furrowed his brows at him. 
“How’s this then,” Alhaitham spun on his heels and returned to his chair. He lifted his book and found the spot he’d stopped at moments ago, “you’re annoying.” 
“That’s worse!” Kaveh shouted while Alhaitham started to read. It took longer than he thought it would for it to click, “Wait - was that directed at me?!” When Alhaitham didn’t respond, he threw his hands in the air and stormed off, “Whatever, just be nicer to people. And stop taking my keys!” 
The room fell silent again until he was left completely alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t understand why his honesty would come across as rude. 
You were distracting; then and now. 
You were so distracting that it took more and more of his energy to think about anything but you. 
--
Childe
“Do you have to go right now?” You asked and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. There was a small clock on your bedside but with how dark it was there was no way you’d figure out the time. “How’d they even call you this late?” 
“It’s a secret,” Childe said, grabbing the clock in your hands and placing it facedown on the wooden end-table. “Go back to sleep,” he kissed your forehead and pulled at the sheets that had fallen to your waist. The cool air caused goosebumps to rise on his back, he could only imagine what it did to you. 
“But I want to see you off. I’ll grab my --” Childe cut you off with a lingering kiss. His hand cupped the back of your head as he guided you onto the pillow still warm from when you were asleep. The silken sheets made it easy for him to leave you there even if it was difficult for his will to do so. 
“Back to sleep,” he repeated, his lips passing over yours as he spoke. The sensation drove him mad. He gripped the bedsheet to stay calm. 
“Not fair,” you breathed and he stole another kiss from you. 
“I won’t be gone long.” You nodded, he couldn’t really see you but he felt your nose run next to his, brush against his cheek. “Sleep,” he demanded and pecked your nose with a quick kiss before prying himself away from you. 
Gathering his things, he made his way to the bathroom and closed the door so he couldn’t disturb you. He caught his reflection in the mirror and lingered on several scars that lined his chest. A long gash that put him in a healing ward for nearly two weeks, another wound that kept him from using his delusion for a whole month. Though it wouldn’t have been that long if he’d listened to Dottore. Lifting his arm, he looked at another scar that he’d received from places he conjured in his nightmares. 
Clenching his jaw, he turned on the water and splashed his face with the cool liquid before throwing on his shirt. 
Childe was annoyed he had to leave so abruptly. He swore he’d smash his fist into the face of whoever called him away. He had his suspicions, only a small handful of Harbingers would be brave enough to request him in the middle of the night, and even fewer brave enough to enter the one place he forbade anyone else from ever stepping foot in.
Call upon him wherever, whenever, but don’t ever do it near you. 
When Childe finished putting his clothes on, he left the bathroom to grab his bag and pack away the other items he’d need for the expedition. Whatever it was it better be over quick. 
Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he made his way to the door but not before glancing back at the bed, not before breathing through his straining heart at the sight of you asleep and bathed in moonlight. 
He was so weak. 
The bag slipped off his shoulder, fell down his arm and dropped quietly on the floor. He walked toward your side of the bed and looked down at your face. His hand felt magnified to you. It moved on its own to caress your cheek, hovered, trembled above you out of fear of waking you up. Out of fear of seeing your eyes look at him. Of your smile. Of the sound of your voice calling his name. 
If you asked it of him, he run to you without question. 
Kneeling, he watched you for a moment. Took you in. Reveled in the sight of you and became jealous of the moon. He dropped his head and took in a breath. 
“You’re distracting,” he professed, his hand rubbing his chin, covering his smirk and clenching jaw. Childe rose up just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, “So damn distracting,” he whispered and watched how you moved beneath him. 
Tearing himself away, he picked up his bag and exited the room. Careful not to slam the door too loud in his irritation. 
The Fatui always talked about how Scaramouche had a sour look on his face, but they’d never seen his after being torn from the bed of his lover and favorite distraction. 
--
Diluc
He meandered through the halls of the Winery, eyes locked on the papers folded in his hand. He had a habit of tucking them behind themselves so he could hold onto them more comfortably. So he could keep his left hand free to sign a form or sniff a cup of just brewed wine. It felt like he’d only made it a few steps before someone else pulled his attention away.
“Excuse me, Master Diluc,” an attendant called to him with a sharp bow. He hated when they addressed him as such, but he stopped trying to fix it long ago. “The equipment you ordered arrived, what would you like us to do with it?” Diluc looked past the attendant toward the front door even though he had no view of outside from this angle. 
“Nothing is missing?” They shook their head, “Alright,” he turned back toward the cellar, “instruct Earnest to set it up in the back corner of the cellar. It should be clear as of yesterday.” 
“Yes sir,” they bowed.
“This new processing method is reserved for our non-alcoholic beverages. Do remind them when you see them,” they bowed again before passing him while Diluc returned to the papers in his grip. He lagged for a moment as he tried to find his place until catching his stride and moving down the hall toward the stairs. 
He drew closer to the study but before he passed through the door, a familiar laugh drifted toward him, stopping him in his tracks. Diluc glanced down the hall seeing only a sliver of light stretching across the ornate rug that had been there since before he was born. No other sound followed so he continued through the door as planned. 
A few moments later, he exited the study to investigate the source of the heart-straining laughter. 
Pushing the door to the bedroom open, he saw you laying across the bed. Your feet kicking in the air, hands holding a book which held your attention.  You laughed again, pressed the pages to your face with a lovely smile before pulling back and turning the page.  Diluc swore he wasn’t a jealous man but oh how he wished to be that book.
It took only a few strides to reach you, and a few less for you to finally look at him. 
“Hello, Handsome,” you hummed. 
He cleared his throat, “Hello.” His cheeks warmed at the nickname you gave him. Of all the things to say -- 
“Whatcha doing?” Lifting onto your knees, you ett him face to face. Closing your book over your fingers, you tapped his chest when he took a step closer to you.
“I might ask you the same thing,” he answered eyeing your book. 
“I figured I’d take a break. Wanna join me?” You inched toward him. His body reacted strongly to feeling of your weight against him as you slid your arms over his shoulder, falling into his chest. 
With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes to avoid looking at your smile, “I cannot. There are still a few things --” 
“Boo -” you pouted, pulling away from him as you deflated. His hands held your waist so you couldn’t get very far. When they got there he wasn’t sure but they felt so right he didn’t question it. “Okay.” 
Diluc hated seeing you unhappy but he was terrible and finding the right balance. 
“Will you have dinner with me then?” 
He thought it was a silly question. The two of you always had dinner when he wasn’t otherwise incapable of it. With a smile, he told you his intentions, “Yes.” 
“Yay!” With that you were back in a state that made him swoon. He adored your smile more than anyone could. “I won’t hold you then,” you explained but not before you leaned in to kiss him. 
Dangerous --- 
It shouldn’t have distorted him so badly. He’d kissed you plenty of times before this - when one of you left the Winery grounds, when you’d both be too busy to see much of the other, in passing as if to tell the other, ‘hello, i’m thinking of you.’ They were simple but he cherished every one. This one, however, settled in his stomach to intensely. Before you could slip away from him, he pulled you back for another. 
and another. 
and another. 
Until you were laying on your back and his hands pressed into the well-made bed. He pulled back to take you in. How heavily you caught your breath, how tenderly your fingers pressed against his chest or rested against his stubbled chin. He kissed your fingers and you sang at the touch.
He said your name making you shiver at the sound, “Have I told you that you’re ... distracting ...” he breathed over your lips, gaze growing heavy as he looked down at you. 
Your voice had changed in such a beautiful way, “Good distracting or bad--?” 
“Not sure yet,” he answered as his lips connected with yours for a long, lingering kiss of many. 
--
Thoma
Thoma rolled onto his side. The warm sheets sliding across his skin while the sounds of birds and even earlier risers than him spilled through the open windows. He took in a deep breath, catching a whiff of familiarity and comfort. 
Something passed over his side and, before he knew it, that familiarity was pressing against his back. 
Thoma chuckled, “Morning.” He kept his voice low so as to not be so jarring. The only response he got was a unhappy groan. Slowly, he ran his hands over the arm pressed against him, across the palm of the hand that opened to greet him. He caressed the skin and his back grew warmer. “I have to get up,” he said, albeit reluctantly. 
“Mmm, no,” you mumbled, capturing his index finger in your grip. 
“Haha, come on -” He tried to pull his hand away but you held strong; stronger than anyone should be for just waking up. “Okay - okay, a little longer.” He submitted and you relaxed against him. 
Thoma closed his eyes but didn’t fall back asleep. Instead, he listened to the sound of footsteps in the polished hallway, heard whispers of attendants going about their morning, careful not to wake their neighbors up. The Kamisato Estate was more accommodating than people expected, even the staff quarters were more lavish than some of the hostels and homes speckling the island. Thoma wasn’t raised here, but he grew up here. It was like a home to him but you were changing that feeling every day. 
He didn’t just work hard for himself, he worked hard for those he cared about. Prying himself from your arms every morning took a little piece of him, he wanted to give you a good life. One outside of the walls of his employer. 
So, even though you had managed to slip another arm around him. This one under his head. He had to part ways. 
“Okay, time to --” Thoma was captured by you as you launched yourself up and hovered over him. One hand pressing into the bed near his face while the other landed at the back of his neck. He moved to his back and looked into your determined face. 
“I’m not ready for you to leave yet,” you explained, lips dragging down into a frown. Even when you scrunched your face up, even when your hair stuck out at all ends he thought you were one of the most enchanting beings he’d ever seen. 
Maneuvering his hand between the sheets and your limbs, he touched your forehead and let his hands run across your hair. “When will you be ready?” He asked, knowing no amount of time would be reasonable enough for you. Be it a few minutes, an hour, several days, if you could steal all his time you’d do it - and he was so very tempted to let you. 
If only you knew how often you filled his mind. How frequently he found himself thinking of you, looking for you, hoping for your well-being. He thought that after you agreed to be his, after you swore you’d be by his side that his passions for you would stabilize but that - he found - was not the case. 
“I’m never ready,” you answered. 
“I know,” he replied, cupping your face and pulling you to him. He kissed your lips gently, moved to your nose where he gave you another, turned your head without resistance to pepper the space below your eyes with more of his love. When he finished, your arms were shaking so he helped you fall to your side. 
“Thoma -” 
“Mmm?” He asked as he followed after you, his nose pushing against your jaw so he could kiss the warmth of your neck. 
“Y-your distracted --” 
He slid closer to you, placed his arm over your head so he could block you, wall off your expressions so only he could see. “I guess I am,” Thoma mused, his nose brushing against your own until you looked at him and he sealed your bravery with a kiss. 
--
Tumblr media
384 notes · View notes