#[ LIBRARIAN: One more round before closing! ]

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Librarian & The Wolverine ~ The End ~ Part 1

THE LIBRARIAN & THE WOLVERINE MASTERLIST

< previous: The World ~ Part 2

Word Count: 6,860ish

Summary: You and Logan come home. Your condition worsens.

Warning(s): insecurities, time jumps, PTSD, dissociation, injuries, memory loss

Notes: Welp. After this, there will be a part 2 of this chapter and an epilogue. Please share your thoughts, opinions, hopes, etc.

The gates of the school opened slowly in the pale light of dawn. The SUV rumbled up the long drive, tires crunching softly over gravel wet with dew. Logan gripped the steering wheel tight than necessary, jaw clenched. You sat beside him, head resting against the cool windowpane, your eyes half-closed. He glanced at you. You were too tired to even pretend you were okay.  The bleeding stopped hours ago. The worst of the fog had passed. But something inside you hadn’t quite returned. There was a quietness in your body now— not peace, but resignation. Fragile acceptance. Logan parked near the front steps.

Your eyes opened slowly. “Are we there?” you murmured.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice rough. You tried to open your door but he quickly stopped you. “No, baby. Let me.”

You didn’t argue. You were too tired. He rounded the car, opened your door, and helped you out. His arm slipped around your waist— protective, grounding— and you leaned into him fully. The front doors opened before you reached the steps. Jean, Ororo, Scott, Hank, and Charles— all waiting.

Jean stepped forward, eyes soft. “We’ve got your rooms ready.”

“We also have your apartment ready,” Ororo added.

“I’ll stay with her,” Logan said without hesitation.

“Of course,” Charles nodded.

“First,” Hank stepped up, “we need to run some scans.”

Logan nodded. You don’t speak. You just let Logan guide you up the steps, one arm beneath your knees when your body began to shake again. Inside the mansion, everything was too bright. Voices were hushed, footsteps silent. You kept your eyes down as Logan carried you, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

The others followed but gave space. Jean walked ahead to open the doors, Hank adjusted the scanner as they approached the infirmary, and Ororo kept her hand gently on your back when Logan finally lowered you onto the exam bed. You quickly grabbed his hand.

“I’ll be quick,” Hank promised gently.

Logan sat beside you on the edge of the bed, your hand cradled between his. He watched every moment Hank made, eyes tracking each machine, each wire, each flicker of light. You didn’t look at the machines. You focused on Logan.

“I don’t want to do this again,” you whispered.

He squeezed your hand. “I know.”

“I don’t feel like myself.”

“You’re still you.”

“You don’t know that.”

Logan leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently to yours. “I do. I know you better than anyone.”

Jean’s hand brushed your shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

You nodded faintly, too worn to speak again. The machines hummed to life. You barely flicked when they touched you. Hours passed. When it was finally over, Hank handed Charles the data with a grim look. They said nothing in front of you. Just quiet glances, a few exchanged words in minds instead of mouths.

Logan caught it. “Tell us.”

Charles hesitated. “She needs rest first.”

“I’m not leaving her in the dark.”

Hank sighed. “We need more time to interpret what we’re seeing. It’s… complicated.”

“You’re tellin’ me that after all this, you still don’t know what they did to her?”

“No. We know what they did. But we don’t know how to undo it. Not yet.”

“You’ve had almost three years and—“

You tugged Logan’s hand. “I’m… tired…”

“You should take her to the apartment,” Ororo suggested.

Logan nodded. He lifted you into his arms. Your weight was nothing to him. But the way you clung to him— like you didn’t trust the ground beneath you— shattered him in a new way. 

Logan got you situated in bed as soon as the two of you reached the apartment. You curled into the pillows and blankets, exhausted beyond what your body should bear.

Logan knelt in front of you. “Sleep,” he urged. “I’ll be right here.”

“You promise?”

He kissed your cheek. “Always.”

~~~

The sun had barely started to rise. Logan was already awake, quietly making coffee in the kitchen, waiting for you. You said that you needed the bathroom first thing. He hadn’t though much of it, not until he heard the thud. It was sharp, sudden, and echoing down the hallway.

“Darlin’?” He called, already moving.

No answer. He reached the door in seconds, claws out before he realized it. His instincts screamed at him— something’s wrong.

“Sweetheart?” He tried again, knocking. “You okay?”

Still nothing. Logan didn’t waste another second. The door cracked under the force of his boot. And what he saw stopped his heart. You were crumpled on the floor beside the toilet— one leg tangled awkwardly, your robe twisted around your limbs, blood trailing from your temple were your head had caught the tub on the way down. And your eyes were vacant.

“No!” The word tripped from his throat as he dropped to the floor. “No, no, no— baby— hey— HEY! Look at me! Come on, look at me!”

His hands were already trying to stop the bleeding. He cradled your head gently, checking for your pulse— it was there, but weak. His breasting hitched at he tried to reach you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s just a dumb, sweetheart.”

He shook slight as he pulled you into his lap and took the phone from his pocket. He pressed the emergency button that went straight to mansion.

“Logan?” Scott answered.

“I need Jean, now!” Logan could barely recognize his own voice. “She slipped. She’s bleeding. She’s not— she’s not back.”

“We’re on the way.”

His voice broke. He held you closer, rocking slightly. “Stay with me. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me again.”

Logan couldn’t tell how long he sat there, holding your limp body in his arms. It could’ve been second or hours. All he knew was the feeling of your skin against his, too cold, and the sound of your breathing, shallow and wrong. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Not like this,” he whispered. “You don’t get to go on a damn bathroom floor.”

Logan hated how fragile you felt and how helpless he was. He hated the silence in your mind— that eerie, echoing void where you should have been. He wasn’t even aware of the tears until they hit your cheek.

Jean burst through the door first. Hank and the others were right behind her. Logan didn’t look up, just held you tighter.

“She slipped,” he muttered. “She hit the tub. I didn’t— I wasn’t—“

“Logan,” Jean said gently, kneeling. “We’ve got her now.”

He didn’t move.

“Logan,” Hank said, firmer. “Please.”

Reluctantly, he let Jean pull you from his lap. He rose, fists clenched, claws halfway out before he forced them back. His eyes didn’t leave you once. 

“I’ll poke around her mind,” Jean told everyone. “Set up the equipment in the extra bedroom.

“What?” Logan questioned.

“We brought equipment for your apartment so that we didn’t have to bring her to and from the mansion all the time unless absolutely necessary.”

Logan nodded. “Thank you.”

~~~

Logan was kept in the hallway, pacing, while the others worked in the small third bedroom of the apartment. Scott and Ororo were out there with him, while Jean and Hank were in the room with you. Eventually, Jean opened the door and let them back in.

“She’s back,” she said softly. “It wasn’t like other deep slips.”

“What do you mean?” Logan wondered.

“She didn’t fight me. She wanted out, but couldn’t find the way. She came running as soon as I called.”

“And her head?”

“Concussion,” Hank answered. “Nothing catastrophic, but between the fall and her neurological condition, she’s going to feel it. Headaches. Sensory issues. Nausea. Possibly disorientation for a while.”

“She could’ve died… on the damn bathroom floor.”

“She didn’t,” Jean said. “She’s alive. You found her in time and got us over here.”

“I should’ve been there. I was there. It still wasn’t fast enough.”

“Logan,” Ororo placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t go everywhere with her, every second. You called. You stayed calm. You got her help. That saved her again.”

You groaned quietly and Logan shot across the room. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You with me?”

You blinked up at him, dazed and confused. “Logan…?”

“Yeah, baby. You took a fall. You’re okay.”

You squinted, wincing. “My head hurts.”

“I know, darlin’,” he took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “You’ve got a concussion. But you’re gonna be alright.”

Your lip trembled as tears welled in your eyes. “I slipped…”

“I know. But you came back. That’s what matters… You always come back to me.”

“I try.”

“You do.”

~~~

The lights were low. Just enough to see, but not enough to hurt. Logan had your bundled gently in one of his flannel shirts. He had already drawn the curtains of your shared room, turned off the lights, and made the bed with ridiculous care. You winced as he helped you sign, the pain behind your eyes a dull, pulsing throb.

“Slow,” he murmured, holding you steady with one arm and tucking a pillow behind you with the other. “Just breathe.”

“Trying…” you mumbled, shutting your eyes. “Everything spins when I move.”

“I know. Don’t gotta do anything now. Just rest.” He brought over a cold cloth and eased it across your temple with the gentlest touch you’d ever felt.

“You’re fussing.”

“You cracked your damn head open. I’ll fuss all I want.”

You reached for his hand. “I don’t wanna sleep yet.”

“You won’t. Not for a while. Hank said we gotta watch you for the next twelve hours. I’ll wake you every hour. Ask you dumb questions. Keep you here with me.”

“What kind of dumb questions?”

“Like what’s your name, what’s the date, how much you love me.”

You gave a lot, sleepy laugh. “Trick question. I love you more than anything.”

“I hate seein’ you like this. Hurts more than anything else ever has.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Don’t. Please, don’t, baby.” He kissed your forehead. “I got you, sweetheart. Even like this.”

And he did. Logan helped you sip water. He massaged your scalp where it didn’t hurt. He sat with you in bed, back against the headboard, letting you rest against his chest while he read aloud in a low, gravel-soft choice. It was something easy and slow. 

And every hour on the dot, he whispered, “Hey, you with me?”

You would nod or mumble or just press your hand to his chest in answer. He never stopped watching over you. Even long after you had fallen into light sleep, Logan stayed up— one hand stroking your back, the other holding the book steady, the words blurring with the fear he didn’t dare say out loud.

Don’t let this be the beginning of goodbye.

~~~

Logan hadn’t moved much in hours. You were curled against him, half-asleep, the cool compress dampening his shirt where it touched your temple. You were having the expected side effects— the headaches, the disorientation, the nausea. But that didn’t stop the way every hour that passed clawed at his nerves. Every time your hand twitched or your breath hitched, Logan held his own breath.

“Hey,” he whispered again. “You with me?”

Your eyes cracked open. You nodded weakly. “Hurts,” you mumbled. “My head hurts.”

“I know, darlin’. You’re doing so good. Just hang on.”

You dozed again, forehead furrowed, body too warm. Logan could feel it under his hands— the way your temperature shifted, the tremble in your muscles. Suddenly, you took a sharp breath and your hand spasmed. You pushed off him, dizzy, and clumsy.

“Logan—“

“Hey, hey.” He was already moving, catching you as you half-slid out of bed, one arm around your waist, the other already guiding. “Bathroom, let’s go. I got you.”

You barely made it to the toilet. He crouched beside you as you threw up. Your whole body trembled with the effort. It wasn’t much— you hadn’t eaten much— but it left you shaking and barely upright. Logan didn’t flinch or gag or let go. He just rubbed your back in slow, steady circles and murmured the softest thing she could think of.

“You’re alright. I’ve got you… You’re safe… I’m right here, baby. Always.”

When you slumped sideways, exhausted and groaning, he caught you, lifted you like you weighed nothing, and sat on the bathroom floor with you cradled in his lap. Your head dropped to his shoulder.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, barely audible.

“Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for needing me.”

Logan cleaned your face with a warm cloth, wiped your mouth, and held you until the shaking stopped. Then he helps you brush your teeth— slow and gentle— even when your knees gave out again and he had to hold you upright. He carried you back to bed and tucked you in. He took a step away to get you more water, but you weakly grabbed his wrist.

“No,” you rasped, tears already threatening your lashes. “Stay.”

“I ain’t going anywhere,” he whispered. 

Logan gently curled behind you, arm around your waist. He kissed your shoulder. He listened as your breathing evened out to a light sleep. And he promised himself— again— that no matter what came next, he’d be strong enough to keep you through it. Even if it tore him apart.

~~~

The first thing you felt was arm when you woke. Logan’s arm was wrapped around your waist, hand resting lightly over your stomach. You could feel his chest rise and fall, in a slow, measured rhythm. He was still awake, you could tell by the way his thumb rubbed slow, soothing circles across your side. You shifted slightly, testing the ache in your skull. It was still there— dull and throbbing, but no longer sharp or dizzying.

“…Logan?” Your voice was scratchy, tentative.

He stirred immediately. “Hey. You back with me?”

You turned in his arms, enough to face him. He looked tired— more tired than you had ever seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes, jaw tense, lips pressed into a thin line. But the moment your eyes met his, that worry cracked just a little.

“I think so,” you said softly. “I feel… clearer.”

He exhaled. “Good… that’s good.”

You reached up, touching his cheek. “You didn’t sleep.”

“Couldn’t risk it.”

“Thank you… for last night. For all of it.”

“Don’t gotta thank me… you scared the hell outta me.”

“I keep doing that… and scare myself.”

He pulled you tighter against his chest. “You’re still here… still with me… that’s all that matters.”

~~~

It had taken nearly an hour to convince him. You promised to move slowly and sit if the dizziness came back. You promised you wouldn’t try to do anything except shuffle around the room and maybe brush your teeth. Logan still looked like he wanted to put you in a protective bubble.

“Alright,” he grunted, standing close. “Let’s see it.”

You carefully peeled the blankets away and let your feet touch the floor, cold and grounding. Your legs wobbled as you pushed to standing, and Logan was there instantly— one hand hovering, not touching unless you started to fall.

You gave him a look. “I’m okay.”

“You were pukin’ and concussed. I ain’t exactly goin’ relax easy.”

“I’m not made of glass.”

“No, you’re made of something a hell of a lot more precious than that.”

You looked away bashfully, biting down your grin. “I’m going to walk to the sink.”

“Mmhm.”

You took one step, then two more. You stopped and breathed when you felt your pulse behind your eyes. Logan was still there. Not crowding, but close. When you made it to the bathroom, he handed you your toothbrush without a word. He waited while you brushed, watching in the mirror like your reflection might fade. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered again.

“I know,” he replied, but his voice cracked.

You reached out and caught his hand. “Thank you for watching over me.”

He gave your hand a squeeze but didn’t reply. Before you knew it you were back in bed, propped up on pillows, with a mug of tea in hand. Logan had forced himself to sit across the room for a bit— not hovering or pacing. Just there, sharpening one of his old combat knives in slow, meditative strokes. But his eyes kept flicking back to you. Every time your head dipped too far or you winced or your breathing changed by just a fraction.

You finally smiled, warm and tired. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Watching me like I’m gonna vanish.”

“It’s ‘cause you did and you could.” He sheathed the blade and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. One hand brushed against your knee. “You scared me.”

“I know.” You grabbed his hand and tugged him to sit at your side. You leaned into him as he put an arm around you. “It’s getting harder to bounce back…”

“Doesn’t matter. However long it takes, however sought it gets, I’ll still be right here.”

You nodded, letting the silence envelop the two of you for a few minutes before you spoke up again. Much quieter than before. “Did you ever think loving me would be this hard?”

He tensed before moving enough for the two of you to look at each other. “No. I didn’t.”

You swallowed.

“But not ‘cause I thought it’d be easy. I just didn’t care. I knew from the second I met you that you were gonna change everything. And I let you. Hell— I wanted you to. Yes, I’ve nearly lost you too many times. And yeah, it’s hard. Some days I feel like I’m drowning in it. But loving you? That part’s never been hard.”

Your throat tightened. “You mean that?”

“Always.” He leaned in until his forehead brushed against yours. “I will never stop fighting to keep you— to love you.”

“Even when I slip away?”

“I will always bring you back. No matter how far. No matter how long it takes.”

You shifted to be curled into his chest more. “I don’t want to slip again.”

He pulled you in tighter. “We’ll fight it.”

~~~

Eventually— about a month later— you got better and found yourself a routine at the mansion. But the thing was, you smiled too quickly now. You laughed a little too sharply. You jumped at sounds that never used to startle you. And everyone noticed.

In the library, Jamie paused mid-sentence when you flinched at the snap of a binder closing behind you. He covered it with a joke, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Ororo saw the way you constantly kept a hand on a table, a wall, the edge of a bookshelf— grounding yourself. And how you would pause before touching anything with print. Sometimes she caught you whispering beneath your breath like you were begging yourself to stay.

Jean and Charles didn’t need to read your thoughts. Your body language screamed loud enough. Even other students picked up on it. They spoke softer around you now.

And Logan? He felt it all like a weight in his chest. He watched you flick your fingers, tug your sleeves, glance at your reflection in passing windows like you were checking to make sure you were still there. You didn’t leet him out of your sight when you could help it. If he left a room, even for a moment, you followed with your eyes. Not possessively— desperately. Like he was the only thing tethering you to this place. But what gutted him most was how quiet you were when you thought no one was listening. The soft repetitions to yourself while shelving books. The quiet breaths counted in fours to keep the panic down. 

The muttered, trembling words, “Stay here. Stay here. Don’t go.”

Logan didn’t say anything yet. Not because he didn’t want to— but because he knew that if he tried, he would hold you too tightly. He would ask you to stop being afraid when fear was your body’s way of trying to survive. So instead, he stayed close. He carried your tea to the library so you didn’t have to fetch it. He offered his hand before you reached for a wall. He sat beside your during lunch, letting your leg press against his under the table. He waited. But even waiting felt like holding his breath.

~~~

The library was quiet, warm with afternoon sun. You were shelving again, hands shaking just slightly as you moved from section to section. The stack of books in your arms rattled gently with each step.

“Author, title, subject,” you murmured under your breath, over and over. You were forgetting where your books went. “Author, title, subject. Keep moving. Keep it straight.” 

Your fingers ghosted over the spine of a book, then jerked back like it had burned you. Your breath caught.

“Stay here. Stay here. Stay here,” you whispered, a chant now. “Not now. Not here. Not yet.”

You didn’t see Logan at first. He had come in quietly, just to check on you, not wanting to hover. But the second he heard your voice— that voice, soft and panicked and spiraling— he moved fast. You were trembling when he got to you. One hand was still gripping a book, the other pressed to the shelf beside you. Your eyes were locked on the floor, blinking too fast. He didn’t speak. He just reached out, gently wrapping a hand around your wrist. You flinched and then looked up. Logan’s face was tight, lined with concern, but his touch stayed soft. His thumb stroked your pulse point once, twice.

“You with me?” He asked, voice quiet, steady.

It took a second for you to nod— only because for that brief moment, you didn’t remember who had a hold of your wrist. Eventually, you did nod and your eyes welled up with tears.

“I— I didn’t slip,” your words cracked.

“I know,” he stepped closer. “You didn’t. You’re right here.”

You tried to breathe, but the sob broke through before you could stop it. And then it was like a dam burst. The books hit the floor. Your arms curled into your chest. You leaned into him hard, and he caught you instantly, wrapping you up in his arms like nothing else mattered.

“I’m trying,” you sobbed. “I’m trying so hard not to fall apart.”

“I know you are,” he whispered, cradling the back of your head. “You’re doing everything right. You hear me? Everything.”

You clung to him, crying silently now, hands fisting in his shirt. And he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just held you like he could absorb the tremors himself. Minutes passed and finally, your breathing evened.

Your voice was barely audible when you spoke up again, “I didn’t slip.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. “No. You didn’t. You fought. You won.”

“But it doesn’t feel like a win.”

~~~

The sun was just beginning to climb high when you stepped out into the courtyard. Jean and Ororo were already waiting. They smiled when they saw you.

“There she is,” Jean said warmly, coming over to link arms with you. “Ready for some fresh air and terrible overpriced coffee?”

Ororo raised a brow with a teasing smirk. “And possibly a bookstore you’ve never raided before.”

You smiled— genuinely, even if a little nervous. “Sounds like heaven.”

Behind you, the door creaked open.

“Wait.” Logan’s voice was rougher than usual. He stepped out into the courtyard, arms crossed, expression already steeped in stubborn disapproval. “Where exactly are you going?” He was addressing Jean and Ororo, but his eyes didn’t leave you.

You sighed. “Just into town. Coffee. Maybe the bookstore. I want to try.”

Logan walked closer. “You had a panic attack two days ago. You slipped briefly a week before that. And you want to go out in public with no backup?”

Jean gave him a gentle, but firm look. “Logan. We’ll be with her the whole time.”

“She’s not ready.”

“It’s not a battlefield, Logan,” Ororo said coolly. “It’s Main Street.”

Logan looked back at you. You could see the fear written all over his face, even as he fried to keep his voice calm. You reached for his hand.

“I want to try,” you told him softly. “Just for a couple hours. I’ve been doing better. You said it yourself.”

His jaw clenched. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to let you out of my sight.”

“I’m not asking you to let me do anything. I’m telling you what I need. Just a little time. With them.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, finally, his hand curled around yours. His thumb brushed the back of your knuckles. “Promise me you’ll call if anything feels wrong.”

“I will.”

“And Jean,” he shifted his gaze, “if she so much as flinches, I expect you to bring her back immediately.”

Jean gave a solemn nod. “You have my word.”

Logan looked at you again. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know.” You gave him a kiss on his lips. “I love you.”

He quickly pulled you in for another kiss. “Love ya too. Be safe. And call me.”

~~~

Laughter echoed off the brick walls of a tucked-away cafe patio. You sat between Jean and Ororo. The table was cluttered with shared pastries and coffee cups, half-emptied and abandoned in favor of conversation. You were laughing. Ororo had just finished a story about a first-year mutant who accidentally shorted out the hallway speakers during music class by belting Whitney Houston too passionately. Jean mimed the reaction, hands thrown dramatically to the ceiling, and you almost choked from laughing.

For the first time since returning from your world travels, you didn’t feel like a patient or a ticking clock. You were just you.”

“I thin this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in months,” Jean said gently.

“It feels… good,” you admitted. “Like I’m in control of my body again.”

Ororo smiled. “We never doubted you could find your way back.”

“Logan never doubted either… Even when I did.”

“He’s proud of you.”

You nodded. “I just hope he’s okay right now.”

~~~

He was definitely not okay.

“Where the hell is Jamie?” Logan barked as he pushed open the kitchen door. “You seen him?”

Hank blinked behind his mug. “I believe he’s—“

“Don’t care. Tell him to check the bookstore downtown. Now.”

“Logan. I’m sure they’re—“

“They’re late. Fifteen minutes past when Jean said they’d be back. Fifteen minutes is long enough for things to go sideways.”

He stormed out before Hank could respond. Next, he cornered Kurt in the rec room.

“You can teleport,” Logan stated, stalking towards Kurt. “Go check in on them. Just a peek. Make sure no one is following them and that nothing has happened to Y/N.”

“Aren’t they… getting coffee?” Kurt nervously questioned.

“Exactly. Prime moment for someone to slip something in a cup.”

“You are deeply unwell.”

Logan growled and stormed off again, muttering to himself. At one point, he shoved open the library doors, stared inside for a beat too long, then slammed them shut and stalked back down the hallway like the floor offended him. 

When he passed by Charles’ office, the professor called out without even looking up, “They’re fine, Logan.”

Logan didn’t stop walking. “I’ll believe that when she’s home.”

~~~

You stepped out of the bookstore with a small paper bag tucked beneath your arm. 

“I still can’t believe you convinced the bookstore owner to let you organize his back shelf,” Jean teased.

You gave a sheepish shrug. “It was painful.”

“He said she was like a ‘calm hurricane with very specific decimal demands’,” Ororo added dryly. “He meant it as a compliment, I’m sure.”

You laughed. As you climbed into the backseat of the car, you glanced at the clock on the desk.

“We’re late,” you noted, stomach twisting.

Jean didn’t even flinch. “Only by an hour.”

Ororo smirked as she started the car. “Which means Logan has had approximately fifteen meltdowns.”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Maybe we should’ve called.”

Jean glanced back at you. “He’s going to grumble and growl and stare holes though the wall— but the second he sees you smiling, he’ll breathe again.”

You nodded softly, hoping she was right.

~~~

The doors hadn’t even fully opened when Logan stormed into view. You had barely stepped into the entrance hall when you saw him— pacing like a caged animal, jaw clenched, hands fisted, and eyes scanning every corner like he expected a threat to leap from the shadows. When his eyes landed on you— whole, calm, and smiling— he froze.

“Logan,” you called softly.

Logan was on you in three strides. Not rough, but close. His hands found your arms like he was checking for injuries, one sliding to cup your face, tilting it gently side to side, like he needed to see all of you.

“You okay?” He asked, voice rough.

“I’m fine,” you answered.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He exhaled, finally. His forehead dropped to yours, fingers still brushing your shoulders, chest rising and falling too fast.

“You always assume the worst,” you teased gently.

“‘Cause the worst always finds us eventually.”

“But not today.”

“Not today.”

~~~

You were radiant. After girls day, something inside you had unlocked. You glided through the mansion with ease— laughing with students, sipping tea in the garden, helping Ororo in the greenhouse. You even offered to reorganize a forgotten section of the mansion’s archive room. It was like a spark had finally caught fire inside you again, like hope had muscle now.

Jean spotted you in the hallway, arms full of folders, and raised a brow. “You running on coffee or adrenaline?”

You grinned. “A bit of both.”

In the distance, Logan stood in the doorway of the rec room, watching you with the kind of quiet intensity that screamed panic to anyone who knew him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love seeing you like this. It was everything he had prayed for— confidence in your stride, a smile that didn’t look borrowed, the lack of trembling. But still, his hands wouldn’t unclench. 

Every time you paused mid-sentence or blinked a little too long, his heart seized. He would question if it was a slip— if it was the slip. When you reached for a book in the library later that afternoon, Logan was right behind you— too fast— and you turned, startled.

“Logan,” you said, confused. “You okay?”

He nodded, jaw tight. “Just… checkin’.”

You tilted your head. “You’ve been checking all day.”

“I’ve got instincts,” he muttered, trying not to look like he was scanning you for sings of mental collapse.

You stepped closer, cupping his cheek. “I’m really okay.”

He didn’t answer, just leaned into your touch and let out a breath like it hurt.

~~~

You danced around the kitchen in the mansion while dinner simmered on the stove, humming a tune under your breath. Both of you were too lazy to go home. Logan stood by the counter, eyes tracking you like you were a storm he could read but not predict. At one point, you laughed aloud— head tilted back, eyes gleaming. He nearly flinched. You noticed.

You crossed the room and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re waiting for the shoe to drop.”

His silence said enough.

You softened. “Maybe it won’t tonight.”

He swallowed. “Maybe.”

But in his chest, the weight never left. Because when you burned this bright, Logan had learned, it often meant the darkness wasn’t far behind.

~~~

You woke up to warmth. A strong, steady warmth pressed against your back, an arm wrapped protectively around your waist, your hand resting over a calloused one on your chest. It felt safe. But it didn’t make sense.

Panic flickered to life in your lungs as your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar dark, to the faint outline of a man beside you— so close. His breathing deep and even. His body a fortress around you. Your heart thundered. You didn’t know who he was. You didn’t know where you were. You screamed.

You shoved back, limbs scrambling, sheets tangled, falling off the edge of the bed and hitting the ground with a hard thud. Your breath came fast and broken. You reached for something, anything, to defend yourself— knowing a lamp over in the process.

The man— Logan— was already on his feet. “Hey, hey! Sweetheart! It’s me— It’s Logan. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“Don’t come near me!” You cried, backing away.

His expression shattered. The door slammed opened behind him. Jean was there first, followed by Scott, Ororo, and Hank. 

Charles’ voice echoed sharply through the mansion’s intercom. “Jean— calm her. Now.”

But Jean didn’t move right away. She just stared at you. Because you looked terrified.

Logan’s arms were raised, still frozen where he stood. “Please,” his voice was low and broken. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you couldn’t understand.

Jean stepped forward cautiously. “you’re at the school. You’re home. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Ororo whispered something into the communicator. Logan didn’t hear it over the sound of you sobbing.

~~~

Hours passed. The sedative Jean had finally administered wore off slowly. You laid in the infirmary bed, trembling, Charles beside you. 

“You were in the bed with someone,” he said gently, testing your awareness.

You flinched. “I— I didn’t know him.”

Charles looked towards the hallway window. Logan stood there, staring. He hadn’t moved since you were brought down here.

“His name is Logan,” Charles said quietly. “He’s… someone very important to you.”

“I don’t remember,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You will. It’s in your mind. Just… sleeping.”

~~~

It took until just after sunrise the next morning. It was the smell. The scent of cigars and old leather. Then the sound. The way his boots sounded when he stepped back into the room.

And then his voice, cracked and exhausted, “I’m here.”

Something clicked. Like a light turning back on in the back of your mind.

Your head shot up. Eyes wide. “Logan.”

He froze. Hope didn’t even dare to cross his face yet. “You remember?”

You nodded, slowly. “I remember… your hands. Your voice.” You frowned. “The sweater… the one I wore two days ago. You hate it.”

He exhaled, his knees almost giving. “I do.”

He didn’t touch you at first. But then you reached for him— shaking. And he was there. One the edge of your bed, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder like he could anchor you there with the force of his hold.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, crying again.

“No,” he said fiercely, voice rough and hoarse. “No apologies. Not from you. Not ever.”

Outside the infirmary room, the team sat quietly, listening to the sounds of your sobs fading into Logan’s soft, steady voice murmuring over and over, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

~~~

You didn’t speak. Not really. You answered when directly asked— with a nod, a soft hum, or a monosyllable at most. But mostly, you let the others guide you like a ghost floating through your own life.

Jean checked in when you arrived at the mansion every morning. She was gentle and careful, always giving you the out before you had to take it.

Ororo brought food at regular hours. She sat with you when Logan had to quickly do something. 

Jamie helped you run the library between his own classes.

Logan was constant. He never asked for more than you could give. He would offer his hand when you paused too long in a hallway, or pull a chair close enough for you to lean on when you couldn’t trust your legs. He didn’t push. But he stayed. And you needed that more than you could ever say.

Days passed like watercolor bleeding on paper— formless, gentle, and impossible to hold onto. You followed the routines they offered you.

You sat in the library for thirty minutes to an hour a day.

You joined Logan for short walks outside.

You stood beside Ororo while she watered the plants in the greenhouse.

You sat quietly at dinner, untouched plate in front of you, just listening.

But still, you didn’t laugh or read or reach. And your voice— once so filled with facts and trivia and half-sung quotes— felt like it had been locked away in a part of you that even you couldn’t touch anymore. 

At night, Logan would sit beside the bed, or lie on top of the covers, book in hand, reading aloud. Sometimes history. Sometimes romance. Sometimes the same page twice when he noticed your eyes had gone glassy. You didn’t stop him. Sometimes you even reached out in the dark and touched his shirt. Just to feel him there. But you never said a word. Not for two weeks.

~~~

The library had always been your sanctuary— once alive with whispers and the smell of old paper, of history tucked neatly into rows. You were there again now, seated in your usual chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders even though it wasn’t cold. Jamie was shelving nearby. He talked quietly as he worked— mostly just nonsense, funny things he’d overheard or trivia he thought you would like. You didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were trying. You were here. That was enough for him.

Until suddenly, the words on the page in front of you began to blur. Not like sleep or exhaustion. But like static. Like your brain was going under again. Your hand twitched. You pressed it last to the arm of the chair.

You opened your mouth. “Jamie.”

His head whipped around at the sound of your voice— soft, but clear. Your first in weeks.

“I think…” the room was tilting. “I think I’m going to slip.”

Panic flickered in his eyes, but he crouched beside you quickly, trying to stay calm for you sake. “Okay. Okay— hey. Stay with me, alright?”

You turned your face towards him, voice barely a whisper now. “Get Logan.”

Jamie bolted. You could hear the sudden flurry of movement— his footsteps pounding down the hallway, shouting Logan’s name. But your body was already slipping. Your fingers curled against the armrest, and your eyes clouded. You fought it, you tried. But the library— the books— they all began to buzz again, a dull static like too many voices at once, clawing through your mind. Then familiar hands. Warm, rough, and purely Logan’s.

He was kneeling in front of you, his voice steady but barely concealing the edge of fear. “I got you. Look at me, sweetheart. Come on.”

You blinked— vision swimming— but your gaze landed on him.

“I’m here.” He cupped your face. “You told Jamie to come get me. That’s you. You’re still here.”

You reached out and gripped his shirt. The world slipped sideways again. 

But Logan was there, grounding you. “Stay with. You don’t gotta do this alone.”

“Don’t want to be lost again…” you rasped.

“You won’t be. I swear it.”

“Can’t… forget you… again.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing with you, willing you to match him. “You won’t, baby. I’m here. I’m with you.”

You were really trying to stay. Harder than you had ever tried before.

“I’m right here. You got this. Just breathe, darlin’. In and out. Match me.”

You tried, but then your breath caught. Your eyes glazed over and you went limp. Logan caught you before your head dropped, arms wrapping around you protectively as your body slumped against him. He didn’t panic. He just hurt. 

“Logan?” Jamie whispered form where he hovered nearby.

“She’s gone,” Logan stated. “But she fought. You saw her fight.”

Jamie nodded, eyes wide.

Logan glanced around the library— the place that had once been your haven and now flickered too close to the source of your pain. He tightened his grip around you, one arm beneath your legs, the other steady at your back. “I’m getting her out of here.”

Jamie was already clearing the path before Logan could even ask. Logan stood with you in his arms and didn’t stop moving. He took you out of the library, away from the shelves. Away from the buzzing energy that your brain kept trying to read like a thousand open pages.

“I got you,” Logan whispered as he walked, lips pressed to your temple. “You hear me? I got you. Just rest. I’ll carry you until you find your way back.”

Jamie followed, glancing back at the empty library with a sick feeling in his chest. Logan didn’t stop until he had you in your shared room. He laid you on the bed like you were made of glass.

It took too much time. But eventually, you came back.

“Logan?” You rasped.

He was still at your side, holding your hand. “I’m here.”

“I tried…”

“I know.” He kissed your forehead. “I saw. You did more than anyone could’ve asked. You fought it.”

You looked around confused. “The library?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.”

next: The End ~ Part 2 >

[esmedelacroix]

01 - Details

synopsis ! he’s an American football player by day and a passionate mathematician by night. She’s a well-rounded historian and writer who couldn’t evaluate a derivative to save her life. They lived in two different worlds but shared the same study room.

previous chapter | series masterlist

cw ! no use of y/n, y/n is _____, fluff, slow burn, college au, ooc sukuna, f!reader, child abuse/neglect, alcohol abuse, suggestive

fic radio ! Crybaby by SZA

Ohio State University, Autumn of Senior Year

To say that you didn't change would be an understatement. You felt too much guilt when you got to school. So at college, you were the same straight-A, (seemingly)perfect girl. You were the complete opposite of the people in your friend group. Then again, Shoko and Satoru were business majors; what were they doing in class anyway?

Suguru was the only one who shared your struggles to an extent as a philosophy major. Even so, he didn't care about his grades as much as you did yours. During your entire college experience, you didn't go to a single party. It was always extra studying for you. But you weren't a complete troglodyte. You went out to eat with your friends—occasionally.

They also had a habit of breaking into your dorm and closing your books and laptop, forcing the hangouts. You couldn't risk that happening because you were preparing to wow your professors with your knowledge as an Ancient History and Classics major. Being your extra self, you also double majored in English and already wanted to get a head start on your writing assignments.

You went where you knew they couldn't find you. The library at the least popular end of campus was where all the try-hards, like yourself, studied. The library was busy, of course, and there was one more study room left, so you signed your name in the time slot and snagged the last room. You had documents strewn on the table with your laptop open, playing the classical piece you needed to analyze on repeat.

After about 30 minutes of complete peace and productivity. You turned your head towards the clear glass of the study room to see a scary man standing at the door. Just staring. At you.

That man was Ryomen Sukuna. The charismatic campus heartthrob and stereotypical quarterback of the football. He was also the school's resident airhead along with his partner in crime, Toji Fushiguro. You had heard rumors about the numerous women seen leaving his room and the alleged Eiffel Towers he partook in with Toji. It didn't help that he was in the same frat as Satoru. The sole reason why you never visited him and Suguru. But what the hell was he doing here?

You look around warily before getting up and opening the door. “Um . . . Can I help you?” you questioned.

“Let’s share this room.”

“I have it signed out for this time though. I wrote my name on the sign-up sheet,” you reasoned.

“Doesn’t matter. The librarians like me so they won’t mind and I see you’re not using your whiteboard. ‘S all I need,” he sighed rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

“Okay,” you hesitatantly agreed, stepping aside for him to walk in.

You stayed silent as you felt him tower over you. He barely squeezed past the small space you left him to enter. The smell he left was a combination of musk, oud, cedar, and amber. He smelled like a warm home with a cozy fire crackling. As much as you hated to admit it, just like every other girl on earth, you were weak for Ryomen Sukuna. The way his pecs and muscular back poked out of his shirt like mountains emerging from the fog had you aching for him in a way that made you feel ashamed.

His light pink tufts of hair looked so soft and his jaw oh so sharp. You could see a plethora of tattoos adorning his arms. Your eyes followed them as they led into his shirt. Part of you wondered just how much of his body was tatted.

If you squinted you could see his abs peek through the semi-tight fabric of his white t-shirt. He was so much taller and bigger than you. You felt dominated and you hadn’t even exchanged many words.

You watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he uncapped your pink marker, which sat on the table along with your other colorful markers he helped himself to without asking. He jotted down numerous math problems you didn't know existed.

You then realized that you hadn't moved from where you stood before because you were staring. Pulling yourself from his trance, you closed that door and took your seat. You'd occasionally look up from the fifteen-page essay you were writing and see that Sukuna had written the most complicated math problem you had ever seen in small-print, neat handwriting. The way he handled and solved the problem was so organized you almost felt like you almost understood the numeric hieroglyphics on the board.

You looked down at your hand written notes and annotation-riddled documents. Your fatal flaw was your illegible handwriting. It was practically jibberish to everyone but you.

After twenty minutes, Sukuna finished his problem that practically covered the whole board and took a brain break sitting across from you. "What's with the music?" he asked.

"I'm analyzing it for a class. Not a fan?" you replied, eyes still glued to your laptop as you typed.

"No, I like Hymn to Vena. It's one of Gustav Holst's best pieces," he admitted.

"You know classical music?" you questioned in shock finally looking up at him. You met his piercing wine-colored eyes.

"Well I'm not completely braindead yet," he shrugged.

"I didn't know you were so historically seasoned and . . . mathematically inclined," you admitted, gesturing towards the solved complex equation on the board.

"Ah, that's nothing. I'm actually in your Intro to Classical Music class so I’m doing the same paper.”

"Wait. Really?"

"Yeah, I just sit in the back and you sit in the front," he smirked.

"First of all, there is nothing wrong with sitting in the front. Secondly, I had no idea you were in my class. I'm the worst," you smiled apologetically.

"You're good. I can't write for shit so I haven't even started the paper," Sukuna admitted leaning back in his chair and resting his large hands behind his head.

"It's due next week, Sukuna!" you exclaimed in disbelief. He noted the way your nose wrinkled when you cringed. And the way you looked away when you tried not to laugh at his jokes.

"It's no biggie. I'll just pay a writing tutor to do it for me," he said, getting up and grabbing a teal EXPO marker from your pencil pouch. This guy is too comfortable.

"I'm a writing tutor. In fact, I am the head of the writing center tutoring program," you revealed with an unimpressed look.

"Well, then you just made my life a whole lot easier. Can you write my essay about Pas de Deux for me?" he questioned.

"No, Sukuna, I'm not writing your essay for you. You didn't even say please. I could tutor you, but that's about it," you offered.

"C'mon let's work something out here," he bargained.

"What could you possibly have to offer me?" you quite condescendingly challenged.

"Well, I know that the only class you're not the top in is our Advanced Multi-variable Calculus class," he smugly stated.

"And how would you know that smarty-pants?” you retorted. Our? He's in that class too?

"'Cause I am, you ding-dong," he chuckled. Ryomen Sukuna is at the top of our math class? I thought people were lying when they said he was a math major!

"Okay so you want us to tutor each other?" you questioned.

"I was thinking more of a 'do each other's work' arrangement," Sukuna reasoned, he had a stupid smirk plastered on his stupid perfect lips. He quirked one of his beautiful perfect brows. It had a scar across it that you found very attractive for whatever reason. He's totally putting the moves on me, you thought.

"No."

"Okay, how about I teach you the math, you write my essay?"

"No."

"Okay . . . You just write my essay and I do your math work and get you into the Pi Kappa Alpha[fraternity name] parties? Final offer," he proposed.

"I think you're mistaken, Sukuna. I do not go to parties. I do not break the academic integrity rules put in place by the university, and I would much rather continue getting 70s on my math tests than ever get my work done by someone else," you snapped. He didn't want to admit it, but he was impressed by your ability to talk back to him. He had never been told off like that.

"Oh, fine. We can tutor each other," he sighed rolling his eyes.

"Good," you smiled. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote down an even more complex problem on the board and began solving it occasionally grumbling under his breath when the two of you met eyes. He wasn't actually annoyed. In fact, he was intrigued. He had waited this long to interact with you and now he didn't want to stop.

"You're a real piece of work _____," he teased, as the time slot for the room finally ran out.

"Am I Sukuna? Or am I just the first woman to say no to you?" you quipped.

He smiled and shrugged, "Somethin' like that." You hated to admit it but, he had a really cute smile. His resting face made him look like he could kill everything in sight. His smile softened his facial features. It wasn't that fake cocky smile he put on to seem hot or be a tease. It was a real genuine smile. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Ugh, why do I need to be like all the other girls that pine for him?

The two of you left the room after packing all your stuff. You gave Sukuna your number and email on a sticky note. "Text me when you want to study again. Sorry about my handwriting by the way," you apologized sheepishly.

"What do you mean? I can read it just fine," he questioned.

Wow, he might be the only one on the planet, you thought as the two of you left the library side by side.

"You don't need to lie, Sukuna," you joked.

"Just Ryo is fine," he corrected.

"Okay Ryomen," you smiled.

He rolled his eyes playfully at you saying his full name instead. Internally he knew: he liked the way you disobeyed him. He found the way you smiled to yourself trying not to laugh after making a joke cute.

It was all in the details. The way you sat in the front of the class every day with a notebook out. The way you impressively scribbled notes while still looking at the board.

He memorized the way you chewed on your pen and bounced your leg whenever you did an exam. The way you always participated. Staying after to help the professor clean up. Going to office hours. You were friendly and bantering with all your teachers. But somehow in an effortless charismatic way and not a ‘pick me’ way.

You didn't know, but he stared holes into your back in every single class. He was amused just staring at your back. Though he knew you wouldn't be there he looked for you in the large sea of people in the stadium. He watched you succeed and rise to the challenge. Listening in on your musical analysis in class he was mesmerized. He just wanted to wander through your mind. Maybe then he could be just as great as you.

In his short interaction with you, he made a realization. You weren't the preppy, bubbly, sweet girl he made you up to be in his mind. You were kind of a bitch. In the hottest way possible. That made you all the better. He needed more and more of you.

. . .

-> next part

@minasuniverse @not-a-glad-gladiator @love-me-satoru @sukunawhores @emoedgylord @domainofmarie @sadrna @lazylunarlover @tamishadawn @boudoirbae @river-vixenn @bitchyfestivalbouquet @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @clp-84 @emochosoluvr @yoongithebean @linaaeatsfamilies @magalimachete @chubbydumplingbarnes @katsukiseyebrows

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[holylulusworld]

Overdue

Summary: You’re a strict librarian.

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x Librarian!Reader

Warnings/Tags: short reader, mafia au, size kink (Steve), kidnapping?

I changed by posting schedule to match @navybrat817's Monday ask. Go, have a look a her blog and stories.

I had this one in my finished WIPs so here we go with Steve Rogers saving us from our job and boring Mondays. :)

You yawn and rub your tired eyes. It’s a slow day today. The library is almost empty, except for two teens hiding between two shelves to make out. You give them a pass for now if they don’t overdo it.

You turn your attention toward the books on your desk. Your colleague left them there after their shift for you to take care of. Just like always, they are selfish and lazy.

You huff and throw the pencil in your hands onto the desk. Your eyes are blurry, and you are ready to fall asleep. With only the two teens around, you allow yourself to close your eyes for a moment.  

Close to drifting toward your favorite fantasy you sigh dreamily. Your bed is calling for you, and you already miss your fluffy pillows. “So…tired…”

The door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall and you shriek in terror. Even the teens stopped making out to watch a tall man step inside the library.

He sticks out of this place like a sore thumb in his black slacks, black turtleneck sweater, and expensive grey overcoat. You can’t see his shoes, but you assume they’re expensive too, just like the rest of his outfit.

“Hi,” you put on your best-faked smile. If only he stayed away, you could’ve daydreamed a little longer. “What are you looking for?”

“A book,” he gruffly replies, eyes roaming the library. It seems like he’s searching for more than a book. “Where do I find the—” His tongue darts out to wet his perfect pink lips, “law books?”

“On the left side, the third shelf. Are you looking for a specific book, Sir? I can tell you where to find it if you know the title,” you offer, but he shakes his head. He’s halfway toward the shelf before you end your sentence.

You huff and turn your attention toward the stack of books left on your desk. You still have to handle the books, check them for damage, scan them, and return them to the shelves.

Engrossed in your task you don’t hear the man return to your desk. He clears his throat, drawing your attention toward him. You flit your eyes up to watch him run his hand over his thick, but well-trimmed beard. His blue eyes search yours for moment before he speaks again.

“How can I help you, Sir?” you repeat the line you said so often in your life you can’t even count it anymore.

“I’m looking for a book,” he repeats, earning a smirk from you. “A specific book.”

“Do you have a title?” You slowly get up from your swivel chair and round the desk. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” he simply watches you step next to him. Compared to him, you’re small, tiny even. “You’re short.” He states a fact you already know about. “Very short.”

You frown at his attitude. Yes. You are short. This doesn’t give him the right to call you short. “What?”

“Oh, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he takes a step closer to get a better look at you. “It’s cute, really.”

“Cute?” you are fuming and would love to shove your shoe up his ass. But you cannot risk getting caught while hurting a customer. “Do you know the title of the book, yes or no.” Your polite smile is fading, and you can barely hide that you’re pissed at the stranger.

“I know the title,” he lowers himself to whisper the title in your ear. “Do you have that one?”

“Yes,” you spin on your heels and march away, not waiting for him to catch up with you. He’s a stranger at this place, but you know it like the palm of your hand.

“You’re not very talkative,” he comments while following you.

“It’s not my job to entertain the people coming here. And it’s forbidden to be too loud at a library.”

“Ah,” he laughs. “You’re very strict, huh? I like someone following rules. I have a few too.”

“Hmmm…” you browse the shelf, finger sliding over the back of the books. “There it is.” You pull the book out of the shelf to hand it to the man. “That’s the one you are looking for.”

“You’re very helpful too,” he muses while his eyes roam your smaller figure. “How long are you working here?”

“Do you want to borrow the book? Are you already a member of our library? If not, you can fill out the application form.” You point toward the application forms on your desk. “I must warn you. Do not overdue the books, Sir.”

“Doll, do you honestly believe I came here for a book?” His features darken, and he licks those plump lips again. He dips his head to drink your trembling form in. “Do you?”

“What?” You splutter.

“You, out!” He jerks his head toward the teens. “Now!” They run out of the library, never looking back. “And you…” He turns back toward you, still that smirk on his lips, “will come with me.”

Your eyes widen in fear. “No.” You shake your head. “I won’t go anywhere with you. I don’t even know you, Sir.”

He chuckles darkly. Before you can blink you end up thrown over his shoulder. You slap him and scream. It’s no use. You wiggle and beg but he walks out of the library, with you hanging over his shoulder.

“I told you to take the day off, doll,” Steve laughs as you mutter under your breath. “Sometimes your man must take matters in his hands…”

Read more: In time

Tags in reblog.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Zelda knew the way to City Hall by heart. Week after week she had picked up Violette from school, staring at it across the street while admiring how its stately white columns reflected the sunlight like a mirror. Now, she was standing right in front of it, too nervous to move her feet but too restless to simply stand still anymore.

She looked down at the card in her hand once more, even though she knew every line from anxious fixation. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. Letting out a deep breath, she put the card in her pocket before walking into the building.

As she stepped inside the heavy wooden doors swung shut behind her. Immediately, the noise and heat from the courtyard became a distant memory. In front of her another set of doors were open wide to a simple courtroom, one she hadn’t seen in half a decade. Quietly, a myriad of emotions overcame her, bolstering her resolve as she realized that maybe this place was a nexus of new beginnings for her after all. 

A new sense of calm accompanied her as she followed a dim, sparsely furnished hallway to a closed door inscribed with a shining metal plate. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. She stood still for a moment, listening to see if anyone was inside before she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

A distracted voice told her to enter, and before she could second guess herself she turned the metal handle and walked through the door. The office was small, filled from one corner to the next with books and mismatched furniture that made her think the whole scene was moments away from bursting at the seams.

In the middle of it all sat a man at his desk, his glasses beginning to fall down the bridge of his nose as he stared diligently at a stack of papers in front of him. At the sound of her footsteps, his gaze bolted up and he seemed not to recognize her. Both of them looked at eachother with embarrassment, and Zelda nearly turned on her heels and walked back out the door.

She tried to muster an apology before leaving unceremoniously, but just as she gathered the courage to do so, a smile overtook the man’s face and he pointed familiarly in her direction. “Mrs. Duplanchier! You must forgive me. You’ve caught me in the middle of a letter that has taken just about every ounce of my concentration. And all of this - the office - I mean, well, it’s just a mess, I fear. Would you - do you want to sit?”

His voice trailed off as he looked around the room for a chair. Other than his own there was only one, tucked into the corner and covered with books. As he moved them onto the floor Zelda’s eyes wandered through the room. He had books on every surface, tucked onto shelves, in stacks on the floor, perched precariously at the edge of the desk. But as she watched him move them to make room for her, she could tell that they had all been stacked carefully and with love.

“Ah! Here you are,” he rounded the desk and sat across from her, allowing her eyes to finish searching every square inch of the space without pressing her with questions. Her gaze finally settled back on his, which was still looking at her curiously. It didn’t seem to throw off her words quite as much as most people’s did. “This is - it's quite a collection you have here. I often thought the books I’d managed to collect were noteworthy but this - this is just remarkable.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Do you have a collection?”

Zelda laughed lightly, mostly to cover up the embarrassment that she felt anytime she talked about herself. “It feels a bit silly calling it that here, amongst something so impressive. It’s mostly just books I brought from home - from England, I mean, when I was a girl. But I’ve bought what I could over the years.”

“England! I thought I may have heard as much back at the truck. How did you possibly end up here?”

Her eyes trailed away from him slightly, roaming back to the stacks of books that were lining the walls. “Its a long story, I suppose. One infinitely less interesting than any selection of which you have here. May - may I ask you about them? The books, I mean. And the truck. All of it really, how any of this came to be.”

With an affirmative nod of his head Zelda began the litany of questions that had come to her mind over the weeks of waiting for this meeting. There was very little about his job that she didn't want to know. Where had the books come from? Where did he drive? Was someone pay him to do so? Where was he headed next?

He answered each question thoroughly and patiently, as though no one had taken the time to have such an interest in his work before. As she reached her last question, where was he headed next, he smiled widely and pushed his glasses up even higher on his nose. “Nowhere, hopefully. I’m working on a request for the Works Projects Administration to open a permanent location in Strangerville.”

Zelda’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “A - a real library, here? In Strangerville?” 

“That’s my hope. Of course there are competing proposals but I’ve been surveying the region and the town is perfect. With the Route running through it and the abandoned Queen Annes up the hill, it’s exactly what the Administration is looking for.”

He could easily read the look on her face, a mix of childish amazement and interest, and ventured further, “Listen, I - I unfortunately can’t promise anything; but if you have an interest in the project I will need a team. They’ll want a catalog of everything I’ve collected and a survey of potential locations. I should know who the grant is awarded to in five - maybe six days? I’ll write to you, if you’re interested.”

“Yes!” She answered so quickly that her anxiety barely had time to register what she was saying. “I - would love that.”

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[raven-cincaide]

 ‘Best Friend’ Kisses 

Summary: The three times you and Yuji kiss all happen during different stages of your lives, different times and have inherently different meanings, from the awkward ‘first kiss’ as middle schoolers to a surprise reunion smooch. Although, you don’t know what to make of the last one. 

Pairing: fem! Reader x (Best friend) Itadori Yuji Sweetober prompt 2: Best friends  WC: 2.4 KWarnings: Fluff, minors (innocent!) kissing, did I mention fluff?

To say that you and Yuji were close would be like saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘ice is cold’- it's something that everyone who had seen you grow up knew; you two were always in each other's lives- day in and day out you’d hang out together. If you were there, then Yuji would undoubtedly be somewhere close by. It was like you two were bound by an invisible force which told you where the other was. A force that always seemed to bring you two together. Your teachers would sometimes laugh that you were ‘held together by a red string of fate’ while your parents always reminded you two to get married at a respectable time and not forget to send them an invite to the wedding. 

Truth be told, it felt so perfect and surreal. Like your entire life plan was laid out perfectly in your lap: study together until college, get a degree, then you would work at a company for a few years to build up a resume and some cash before settling down somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo. Maybe even in the more green village-like areas where you’d build your perfect future together. Yuji would be a P.E. teacher at some local high school, and you would be either an English teacher or a writer, depending on which profession took off first. You’d build a family together; Yuji wanted three kids at least. You wanted one, so you compromised on two and filled the last spot with a pet of his choice. 

Thus, the first time you two kissed was related to that grand life plan. The life plan that you two came up with during recess in middle school. Although it was a gorgeous day, nice and warm and perfect to be outside, both of you lazied about in the school library, sitting on the soft chairs in the very corner of the room commonly known as the ‘silent reading corner’, surrounded only by a handful of usual-ignored-older computers and heavy bookshelves. There was no one in the school's library besides the two of you and an old librarian checking in new books somewhere in the second room, well out of sight. The other kids were out kicking ball between each other or up to some other type of mischief, but you felt down and tired and settled for the more comfortable indoors. And expectedly and without question, Yuji joined you, sitting in the familiar seat beside you. 

“Let’s kiss on it!” The young pink-haired boy exclaimed as he spun another round on the well-used computer chair beside you. “You know, to seal the deal. As they do at weddings in front of the pastor, so it’s a deal for life.” 

You peer up at him from your spot, where half of you lay half sprawled out on the desk, head rested on top of your folded arms. “I think it’s the vow before the kiss that makes it, you know, ‘til death do us part’ thingy.” 

“Oh.. well, let's do it anyway; that way, we won’t forget it until we get married!” Yuji shifted closer; his lips widening into a wide grin as though he had just won a whole cake.  

“I swear you just want a kiss”, you mumbled, but don’t shove him away. You stayed perfectly still, just staring at him with huge eyes, as he leaned closer until you felt a tiny pressure on your lips, a shaky warmth that disappeared as quickly as it came. A second passed, and you two stared at each other in utter silence before you flew away, faces dark red, as you heard the librarian walk in to remind you to get back to class. 

You had to admit you don’t remember much of that kiss. 

But you do remember the sudden shyness that followed and how yours and Yuji’s cheeks would blossom into dark red blush whenever you looked at each other after that- a fact that made the other kids tease you the hell out of you two. 

It was an awkward kiss that, for a long time, made you worried you would lose Yuji. That he wouldn’t want to be friends with you because you were a bad kisser- and unknowingly to you, he felt the same. Thus, you two didn’t kiss more times in middle school. 

The second time you and Yuji kissed was during your first year of high school, right after summer break. The two of you sat, sprawled out in the shadows of the high school bleachers from one side and the overgrown bushes from the other—a perfect little obscured space for anyone who didn’t want to be seen. But still wanted to have a good view of the sports area with the bright green football field, an area for throwing balls, spears, high and low jumps and other activities you didn’t even know existed. 

The football tryouts had just finished, yet there were still a few hours left until the cheerleading tryouts started. Yuji had wanted to only show up to your tryouts. Still, an old classmate practically begged him to join for football tryouts as company, completely forgetting that since last semester Yuji hit puberty and not only shot up like a beam but also grew strength and muscle like a gorilla. Effectively impressing the P.E teacher who wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into your horror-loving, more-of-a-bookworm-than-sports-guy Yuji. 

So now you had no choice but to hide in the shadowy part of the field, sitting on Yuji’s sweatshirt in your bright blue cheerleader uniform, sipping on a milkshake and Yuji in his barely sweaty jeans and t-shirt, right beside you, chugging down a Gatorade. 

“How quickly do you wanna get married?” 

Your eyes flickered to Yuji as he peered at you through pink bangs. The second he caught your eye, though, he turned away, his face unmistakably red. His lips were still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He was a mix of cool-casual as if he had just asked how long you had until class, but also so obviously fidgety and nervous that you found him totally cute. Absolutely adorable, and something else you refused to admit about your best friend. But there was also something else in his expression, and you quickly recognised the question for what it was: a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than his sick grandpa. 

‘So bad, huh?’ you wanted to comfort him in the only way he would accept- by answering his half-metaphorical question: “Hmm, maybe during or straight after Uni? I heard there are some perks with getting housing if you’re a young married couple,” You mused aloud, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. 

“We should kiss on that, You know, to seal the deal..” you paused mid-sip of your cherry-flavoured milkshake, sensing an air of nervousness settled between you. You bite your lips, a part of you were uncertain and nervous. You weren’t children anymore, and a kiss at your age would have all sorts of implications. 

But you could also see his need for a distraction, could see how tense his shoulders were and how desperately he gripped the Gatorade bottle. He was afraid, you realised, afraid to be completely alone once his grandpa passed. You still had your parents, but Yuji would have no one. He was afraid you’d leave him too. 

“I swear you just want a kiss” You could practically hear him sob in relief as he spun around to face you; the childhood reply from all these years ago brought him unimaginable relief.

This time it was not a shy and quick press of the lips- it was more desperate. He pressed his lips to yours firmly and moved them against yours as if he were trying to get closer or eat you alive. You weren’t sure.  Teenaged hormones raged- an unexplainable tension between you two as your lips and spit, and tongue met each other over and over again. 

This time, there was a lot more exploring now, tasting, feeling. 

The taste of Yuji and the puckishly sweet-synthetic taste of post-practice Gatorade cut through the sweet flavour of a cheery milkshake on your tongue. The warmth of his hands on your body, the feel of his chest under your hands. How much he had changed seemingly overnight from a soft and squishy boy into a brick of solid muscle hidden underneath hoodies and loose-fitted jeans. 

You gasped as he pushed you down into lying and broke the kiss to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide, almost manic. One leg was planted on the ground, the second was frozen in the air mid-saddling your waist, as if he had just realized what he was doing. His blush caught up with him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do. “D-Do y-you wanna stop?” 

You heard the unmistakable whistle from the tryouts just meters away, and it was as if a dose of reality had finally broken through your haze. What were you two doing in broad daylight too? “Y-yeah, definitely not here” You don’t miss the disappointment on Yuji’s face as he scrambled off of you and helpd you up. 

Thinking back, you wondered if things would have been different if you hadn’t said ‘yes’ that time- if you hadn’t stopped and instead urged him on the way every fibre of your being screamed at you too. Would Yuji have stayed in your high school? Or would he have transferred out of there the very next day with no warning and no goodbye? Not even a chance for you to say your condolences to him, or mourn his grandfather's death, who was like your own grandfather? Or would it have ultimately not mattered? 

The third time you and Yuji kissed was days before the university started. It was sunny and warm as you waited near rebuilt Shinjuku station for your friends for a much-needed shopping spree. The university started almost two weeks later than your high school after the summer break and the day coincided with the last time you saw Yuji. Although there was still a feeling of anger, much of it was replaced by melancholy and a sense of betrayal. You wished Yuji would explain the simple ‘why’- you swore you would have understood. 

But he never did, and despite frequent texting, you always turned down his request to meet up.

You were bitter, not only for having lost your best friend but also because he ruined the plan. The perfectly perfect life plan you both had created in middle school came crashing down without warning, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. You were still bitter about being left behind- replaced like a pair of gloves and so stubbornly angry that you didn’t even notice Yuji screaming your name until he was just a few feet away. 

You glanced up, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, and he spun you around and around, your face buried in the crook of your neck like in all those post-war veteran coming-home pictures. You noticed he looked older, more worn out than his twenties, like he had been through hell and back again. “Y-yuji?!-” You didn’t even finish your sentence as his lips were suddenly on yours. A desperate plea and apology all poured into that one kiss. 

You froze. Your body grew rigid in his arms; you thought your love had cooled, and yet there were sparks between you- no, wait, there WERE actual blue sparks around you. You tore yourself away from his lips, ignoring his sulking pout, as you stared at the specks of blue around you in shock and awe.

“You can see that?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and you turned to face a dark-haired man standing beside a brown-haired woman. Between them was something that you could only describe as a black-and-white demon dog of sorts. It’s horrifying and cute all at once. Although its proportions feel all wrong, there was something like a third eye in the middle of its forehead surrounded by a red mark in its forehead that didn’t look like a mere paint job.

 “And you see him?” the woman asks, pointing a long finger at the animal.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickered between the reminisce of blue specks and the puppy, and then you returned to the unfamiliar duo. 

“Then it’s all good, right? Fushiguro? Kugisaki? We call tell her, right?” Yuji exclaimed, his voice an obnoxiously loud cheer that only piped down once you pressed your hands against his shoulders in a silent demand to be set back down on the ground. 

Instantly Yuji’s eyes, puppy dog expression and disappointed pout stared up at you. You didn’t smile or laugh back at him, in fact, you didn’t even know whether you wanted to know whatever that ‘all’ was. You just felt uneasy and awkward in your best friend's embrace after two years of absence, or maybe it was the way he looked much older than when you last saw him, like he had been to hell and back several times over? He didn’t look your age- he looked almost a decade older. Or was it something else that brought an unmistakable bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like you wanted to get the fuck away from there before you were dragged into something you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Oy why is it so important for you to make her a sorcerer anyway?” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, seizing you and your still stunned expression, up and down as if judging your entire worth in that mili-second. 

“Because she’s my best friend of course!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing from the onslaught of emotion you felt at that moment. 

From anger and betrayal to curiosity and the unmistakable fear as the dio inched closer to you while Yuji kept you still in one place. But most importantly, the unmistakable pang of pain that came with being called ‘his best friend’. It reminded you once again that a kiss for Yuji was just a way to greet someone, like a personalised handshake or a first bump. It meant nothing, and you were a total fool to become so affected by it. To still hope against hope that your life plan could be salvaged. It was foolish because you were the only one to feel that way, 

Or so you thought.  

Author note: This is a republish of the fic from like 3 days ago, but still I just thought it could be a pre-university Yuji fic, or maybe a hdc . What do you think?

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[aloneatpeace]

𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Brave or stupid

Series prev next

.→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →. Let me know what you guys think about this chapter i have a lot of ideas that i want to throw it into the plot that doesn't feel forced and also want to have the dynamic with character feel natural in the ocs nature i hope I can do that have a good reading ❤️

Tw : body shaming ( don't do it if you see someone doing this to someone throw hands )

The next day you were alone in the bus to the school, Jun-tae had texted that he needed to something that he would be gone earlier than usual. You didn’t see him at the library either walking around the hallway you hear surprised whispers of your peers who all are rejoicing after receiving their lost phones.

That’s only makes you more paranoid, you know its Jun-tae and other guys are behind it they would steal the phones because of Hyo man makes them to do so. Jun-tae’s sudden invitation to eat lunch together and now this makes your theory true. He’s rebelling against Hyo-man but why suddenly? What made him or who made him change his mind to stand up against Hyo-man was really brave or stupid because his what he did comes with consequence that going ends with him getting hurt.

You hear rushed footsteps pass by the library loud enough for the librarian to grumble under her breath mutter how students have no discipline whatsoever. You hurriedly finish your work as well scrabbling to put the books that you took struggling to do under the watchful eyes of your librarian. You sprinted your class and place your notes in your table as you do your ear catches the girl’s words.

   “My boyfriend just texted me saying there is fight at their side.”

“Really? Between who?”

“Choi Hyo-man and the transferred boy”

One of the girl’s eyes widen “Oh, the pyscho boy?”

“I heard that he killed his fellow student that why he came here.”

Another girl scoff “He didn’t kill, he sends that boy into a coma.”

Not waiting to hear any further you tread towards the boy’s section of the building, running up the stairs you almost pumps into a boy making you stumble back a hand clasp itself on your wrist steadying you briefly so silently you almost didn’t feel the touch.

Si-eun round brown hues falls your frame standing too close to him, he let his hands fall limp beside him after steadying you. eyes scanning as you gulp wide warm eye staring up at his cold ones stepping aside muttering apology for bumping on to him almost, you seem to do that a lot.

Jun-tae looks surprised at your sudden appearance he uttering your name making you glance at him and your apologetic eyes turns into worried one seeing beaten up Jun-tae. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m alright. He saved me back there.” Jun-tae said with smile that reached his eye looking at si-eun with a grateful look.

You glance at Si-eun and back at him, Jun-tae turns and open the slide door “What are you doing?. We’re going to see the nurse.”

“We can’t go to the nurse’s office.” Jun-tae walks inside you follow him si-eun stands outside for minute before following after the both of you.

You and Jun-tae sits down the floor while si-eun stands in front you both, opening the first aid you sit straight taking it from Jun-tae’s hands as he and Si-eun talks.

“Whenever, we go there the nurse realize what’s happened, so Hyo-man gets called to the teacher’s office all the time and we just get beaten up again. Its an endless cycle.”

You take a cotton swabs, q tip and fucidin cream and hands one to Jun-tae and Si-eun “Fucidin cream is pretty much an antibiotic” Jun-tae says using the mirror to lay it over his bruised cheek, when Si-eun didn’t take it, you hesitantly dab it on his bleeding knuckle making him look down at as you do so.

“You have to use it because, Hyo-man’s fists are like balls of germs.” You chuckle at Jun-tae words he too smiles at his comment.

“Why did you do it?” Si-eun asks you and Jun-tae turns to him “Why did you return all the phones?”

You glance back Jun-tae wanting to know the answer only to be confused when he answers “Newton’s third law. For every good action a good reaction follows.”

“What?” you scrunch your nose puzzled at his reasoning you don’t remembering Newton’s third law like that and it seems like si-eun is on same boat with you as he also looked confused for minute.

“That’s not what it means.” He says the three of you look at each other before you sigh setting the cream down inside the box.

“He’s not gonna sit down and do nothing.” You speak up making Jun-tae and Si-eun glance at you. “You two should be careful, Hyo-man is cunning.” Standing up you dust your skirt.

Jun-tae calls your name making you turns to him “it will be fine, Baku’s going to come back sooner or later. Gotak was there too.” He stands up as well. “Let’s sit together at lunch.” Jun-tae eyes shift from you and Si-eun the last words directed towards both of you.

You glance at Si-eun expectedly wanting to know that he’s comfortable too with the invitation and your intrusion. Si-eun feels the weight of yours and Jun-tae gaze on him making him sigh and nod. You and Jun-tae smile at that “Well, I see you guys at lunch. Take care.” With that you leave.

When the lunch time rolled in Si-eun watches Jun-tae eyes scan the crowed searching for you and he too wounder where you had gone. Si-eun catches Jun-tae eyes trained group of girls who is on the other side laughing and chatting as they have their lunch, Jun-tae take his phone out his pocket pressing your chat he sends texts but gets no response he slums in his chair Si-eun sits straight setting his utensils down.

“What is it?she not coming?”

Jun-tae glance up his from his phone “I should just call her.” he dials your number and in on the second ring you pick up. “Where are you?

Are you coming to lunch.

Oh, alright.

Did you eat anything?

Mmhm. I see you tomorrow then.”

Jun-tae slumps in his chair before picking up his utensils and staring to eat Si-eun waits for him to say what you told him feeling his gaze on him Jun-tae looks up “Oh she said she has work to submit, so she and her friends can go out to the mall after class. she also said you to eat well”

Si-eun was doing the opposite truthfully, making him look down his food before he glances at Jun-tae and then to the other side where the group of girls sat “Friends?” 

Jun-tae nod sigh. After lunch they both walk towards their class Jun-tae steps rushed as he walks ahead reaching their classroom. He rummages through his bag while Si-eun’s eyes followed him, the break time isn’t over yet.

Jun-tae smile in relief after finding a chocolate bar he turns to Si-eun “I’ll be right back.” Si-eun nod knowing where he’s rushing to.

You sigh cracking your knuckles in satisfaction glancing at the assignment which is due today, “still got it.” you glance up hearing footsteps coming towards you fearing it’s the librarian who might have caught you taking Jun-tae’s call. But thankfully its Jun-tae himself who’s walking towards you.

“Jun-tae, what are you doing here?” he stands in front of you smiling he extend his hand offering a chocolate candy in palm.

“I’m sorry it all I have, and don’t say you have eaten. I know you didn’t.” Jun-tae places the candy in front of you, smiling warmly at his gesture you take it and opening the candy eat it one go.

“Sorry I couldn’t eat with lunch with you guys.” You stand gathering your material in your hands Jun-tae shake his head and walk along side.

“Are you really going to the mall after class?” Jun-tae ask carefully, eyes scanning your face he feels himself get flustered enthusiastically nodding heading bobbing with a wide smile.

“Yes, we are. And I’m thinking if I should get my nails done or buy something. It going to be fun they said we can try out dresses.” Your eyes lit up as you ramble about what you and your friends are going out.

 “Why not do both since you want both?” Jun-tae asks as you both round the hallway to the teacher office.

“I want to but since its planned suddenly I don’t have much money.” You set the assignment on the teacher’s table.

Jun-tae feels your hand clasping on his wrist before he can pull out his wallet you glare at him playfully “don’t even think about it. you need to buy bandage and proper medicine, it might swell.” With your hands still clasped on his wrist the both of you walkout the teacher’s office.

Jun-tae’s ear and neck turns red at touch of your hand “Oh, what happened why are you so red?” you tilt your head to side lowering your head to look at his face which he hides by looking down.

“I’m alr—alright.” Jun-tae stutter through his word avoiding your eye the shrilling sound bell ringing making you sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

He nods walking back stumbling over his own foot making you look at him worried he just smiles walking away. Shrugging it off you walk towards your classroom already excited evening.

 When the evening arrived you, Yuri, mina and sara take the bus to the nearest mall.  Mina and sara sit across from you while you and Yuri sits together scrolling on her phone

You glance at her with a smile, eyes shining in excitement at the thought of sharing something with your friends “Should we all get like matching clips?”

“That is so basic and cliché you know.” she says without looking up from her phone her fingers rapidly typing on the screen and you hear Sara and mina laughing making you glance at them. you sigh nodding along.

When you reach the mall, they walk ahead you drag your feet slightly exhausted shoulders feeling heavy they walk into cloth store looking through you too follow going through racks of clothes all are slightly pricy but everything looks so beautiful that you lost yourself and find yourself picking up a flowy light purple dress with long bell sleeves and square neckline pulling out in rack you feel material and price is reasonable its such a pretty dress.

You walk to the counter where you can hear their voice chatting Mina look surprised to see you as if she forgot that you even were with them before her eyes falls on the dress on your hands “Oh I thought you left us all alone?” the two turns at her word to look at you they look surprised as well.

You shake your head with a smile “I found this dress, isn’t it pretty.?” Mina nods taking the dress from your hand.

“It is but I don’t think this is your color at all” she pouts “and I don’t think its gonna you know…. fit”

Your face fall but you shake your head “No its my size and my mom made my uniform bit loose. I think its gonna fit perfectly.” You glance at cashier women “Maybe I can try it on, I’ll just ask her.”

Mina gives the dress to Yuri “Did you want to buy hairclip; we can do that while they wait at the counter. They will ask for you right?” she glance at them they exchange a look before nodding.”

Mina hooks her arms on yours pulling you away from the store before you can answer, you look through various ones all look so pretty and cute, you pick one holding it up to show mina who’s busy typing away on her phone. “Should I get this” she glances up before nodding.

When the two of you walks back to them, they are already out of the store with bags in their hands “Oh you guys didn’t have to pay for that?”

Yuri looks at you with sigh “We didn’t buy, we left it the counter to try on our dress but someone else took it.”

“Yeah, we looked everywhere. We couldn’t find it.” Sara said “We should go it’s getting dark.” Mina nod taking the bag Yuri held out in her direction. They start walking you follow them with heavy heart you glance at the store one last time.

Your steps were heavy as you walk through the street to your home shoulder heavy as your back bag pulling you down along with exhaustion and sadness weighted swinging the small paper bag that has your hairclip in your hands your movement slow down when you hear a footsteps behind you turning back you see a guy from your neighborhood that weird one you always hated you quickly take your phone out thankfully you have enough battery left make phone call. You call your mom she answers on the second ring she isn’t home yet ask you if your reached home you mumble last part not wanting the guy to hear. The footsteps now closer making you feel angered and scared at the same time you want to turns to yell at him but at the same time you can’t.

The two boys sitting outside the store looks up at sudden footsteps rushing past them into the store, they recognizes the uniform your wearing they go back to what they were doing but that cut off by when they hear shuffling of feet they look up to see a guy standing at side of the street looking at the store they follow his line of sight and see you inside talking into your phone nodding into your phone you pick up a packet of chip and walks to the cashier not so subtlety glancing outside.

One hand gripping the snack along with a paper bag and other hand gripping on your phone you step out the store before starting speedwalking to your home not sparing glance to anywhere but ahead, you hear the footsteps behind you after few minutes then you almost breaking into a sprint you hear the footsteps coming up fast then there is some shuffling and then nothing you don’t look back and starts and break into a sprint dropping things in your hands you round  just as you round the corner you turn to look back all you see two guys their face hidden as one stands Infront of the other while other one crouched on the floor as he pick up the things you left behind with bloody knuckles.

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[princessbrunette]

bf!jj seeing you in your glasses the first time and just keeps referring to you as a hot librarian and you don’t know how to react

𓏲 ♥︎ ݁ 🦴 ˖ ࣪🩰

“yo, babe do me a favour real quick?” jj seemingly appears out of nowhere as he usually does, disrupting the quiet time you were having out on the porch to the chateau — reading your book.

“hm?” you slowly drag your eyes away from the page to blink up at him distractedly.

“can you say the words ‘do you have a library card?’ but like in a sexy way?” he stares you down, boyishly adjusting his shorts. you place your bookmark on the page and close your book, deciding to entertain his nonsense as you turn your body to face him more.

“what? why?” you furrow your brows and he flops onto the seat beside you, shrugging it off.

“well, the glasses are givin’ me some serious sexy librarian vibes and i’m tryna live out this one fantasy of mine. infact, i actually had a dream about it once where i forgot to return my book and— nevermind it’s not important.” he lifts his shoulders, unable to stop looking at you from where he sits. you get shy, reaching up to take them off.

“aaaand they’re coming off.” you sigh and he sits up suddenly, gently grabbing your wrists to stop you from removing them.

“no they’re not.” he distracts you by pulling you in for a kiss, but when he pulls away the hands that cup your cheeks slide round to the backs of your ears where your glasses rest, wiggling his fingers on them so that the frames jump up and down on your nose bridge. “woohoo, now we’re talkin’.” he grins and you bat him away.

“you’re making me self conscious.” you pout and he wraps an arm around the back of your neck, drawing you into his trap and dropping quick wet kisses all over your mouth.

“well stop. i like ‘em, mama. think they’re sexy.” he admits and you let a smile slip. he draws back in to kiss you again before pulling back thoughtfully, eyes lighting up. “do you think these would work as like, protective goggles? for when i nut on your face?”

“jj!”

“just askin’.”

𓏲 ♥︎ ݁ 🦴 ˖ ࣪🩰

[the-californicationist]

There’s always a sexy little literature element in your books. I’d salivatteee over price as a grumpy librarian in some small town. Ughh with some small glasses and flannel. He’s so obsessed with the nerdy little frequenter who hides away in some section in the back to read. Imagine him peeking thru the books to catch a glimpse and sees her putting on a private little show in the some hidden away section. Little does he know she wants her grumpy librarian to watch 🦭. I know you’d make this so sexy and delicious, you deviant woman 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

i love you so much @ofdivinity01 <3 i hope this quick fic hits those points for you <3 <3

The Archives

John Price has retired, and he has tried out a number of different jobs to keep his mind occupied. One of his favorite jobs so far has been working in the archives of a library, especially since there's a pretty little regular that has been haunting his thoughts.

TW: female genitalia, overt sex, pwp, seriously its plotless, 3rd person POV

AO3 Link

Working as a library archivist was not how John Price had pictured his retirement beginning. To be fair, he didn’t need the money. Retiring before the age of forty with a comfortable (substantial) bank account to reflect a job well done was already an achievement. So, tackling another high-stress, high-profile career seemed doable yet unnecessary. He’d stuck around the house for a while, pottering about with some renovations or garden projects, but it wasn’t enough. He was antsy. It was only when his old friend, Steve Kosser, the director of a top-level historical documents archive, called him and asked for some extra security coverage that he’d realized having a gun on his belt felt familiar in a way that he wasn’t sure he liked. But, he loved the library. 

John had always loved books. His house was full of them. He had stacks on each and every surface. The classics, some Shakespeare, a bit of poetry, some nonfiction… he would read anything. There was even a bodice-ripper or two tucked away unseen, but he wasn’t ashamed. Reading kept him sharp. It taught him about people, about their nature, about possibilities, about hope in places where there was none. 

His work had quickly transitioned from security to desk work, and from desk work to archival data entry. Now, he was a procurement specialist, reaching out across the world to find texts and documents that his clients needed. Being close to the university meant that he had some repeat customers, but there were few who caught his eye like her. 

She was his shadow-cloaked phantom, haunting him from the back corner. Her wardrobe was black on black on black, never daring to show him more than a hand or a wrist, or a bit of her neck other than her face. But, he lived for that face. Round, full cheeks, and a downturned smile when he greeted her each evening that she decided to come in to work. He dreamt of that smile almost as much as her plump, thick ass, and heavy, ample breasts; all hidden beneath her modest clothing. Part of him warred against his lust, chastising him for ogling her when she was just here to work on her graduate research, but the other part of him was… harder to convince. 

But, tonight, in his almost empty archive section, he was given a true gift. She came in from the downpour outside, and he almost didn’t recognize her. He saw her tumble into the door, shaking her umbrella, frustrated and wet, but he’d needed to do a double-take. This was not his modest little raven, hiding behind her feathers. No, she was a bird of paradise tonight. 

Her feet were lined with strappy black heels, high and platformed, shining in patent leather, wet from the puddles outside. Her legs were bare, and as he raked his eye upwards, he lingered on her round calves, her muscular thighs, wide and smooth, all leading him up under a high, pleated skirt, dark green plaid, sitting high on her waist, doing little to hide that juicy rump. She had on a button-down shirt, starched and white, but he could see her black bra underneath, the rain making the fabric of her top transparent. Her hair was up in some sort of style, pulled away from her face and her neck, curling and gleaming from the droplets. 

She was panting from the cold, and from rushing inside, and that didn’t help his cause. He’d been battling a succession of throbbing hard-ons ever since he’d first spotted her, and that was weeks ago. At home, he’d retreat to his bedroom, rod in hand, working himself into an orgasmic froth, trying his best to picture literally anyone but her. But, she would flash into his mind, her smile, those eyes, that skin… and he’d be lost. 

When he saw a request come in from her library account, it was just as bad if not worse. His primal body would celebrate, happy that she needed his help, and that he could provide for her, and he’d be in a tumultuous, heart-pumping, cock-stretching predicament yet again. He’d cloistered himself away, deep in the darkness of the stacks, fisting himself in rushed, punishing strokes, coming in his open palm, stopping himself from ruining the historical treasures he was meant to be protecting, hanging his head in love-drunk shame. 

But now, in some sort of twisted, scholarly fantasy, here she was. His curvy little grad student, dripping wet and coming straight up to his desk. 

“Hiya, John,” she whispered, her voice somehow cutting through the blood that pounded through his ears. 

“Hey there, love. It’s cats and dogs out there, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she looked down at herself, trying to squeeze the water from her top, stretching it even thinner across her visible bra line, the black lace now fully visible to him, its floral pattern burning itself into his mind like fire on a page, licking black soot and tormenting him deep in his belly.

“Do you think you could help me?” She looked up at him with those doe eyes, pleading.

His body responded before he did, plumping himself back to life, feeling how the body of his prick pressed itself down the leg of his jeans. Yes, sweetheart, we’ll fuckin’ help you, won’t we, mate?

John shook it off, nodding his head, 

“Sure, what’s the problem?”

She pulled some copies out of her bag,

“A friend sent these over, but I don’t think they match the microfiche film that you have here. I hate to ask you this, but could you help me do a cross-check? I really just need someone to listen while I read from the fiche film.”

“You bet.”

John followed her like a loyal mutt over to the dark microfiche machine, his tail surely wagging if he had one, stealing glance after fiery glance at that delectable body as she walked, those heels clacking against the terrazzo floors. 

She found the machine she wanted and perched herself on the tiny stool. He sat beside her, eyes glued to the page, afraid of himself if he dared look anywhere else. The way the machines were set up meant that she would have her eyes stuck in the viewfinders, like she was scoping out the horizon on a submarine, while the soft golden glow from the machine would light up her unbuttoned cleavage, making her body that much more visible as he stared at her from his periphery. 

“Okay,” she positioned her eyes in the machine’s goggle-like viewer, unable to see anything around her but the film she was flipping through, “We’re on page seventy-four, right?”

John looked down at his packet, 

“Yep, seventy-four.”

“Okay, oh—!” She twisted herself on the stool, trying to get more comfortable, but her ass was too much for the tiny seat to handle. He reached out on instinct, catching her on her flank, gripping her none too lightly, saving her from falling. 

“Gotcha,” he laughed. 

She peeked out of the viewfinder for a moment, smiling, 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Mmm,” she cooed, “Your hand is so warm. Didn’t realize how cold I was.”

“Tha’s alright, love. We’ll getcha warmed back up.”

She gave him an encouraging look as she turned back to the viewfinder, and John felt like he had earned her approval to keep his hand planted right where it was. 

As she read from the film, he followed along, not really needing to report any corrections, but his palm was itching to travel. He had a hold on her hip, part of his hand riding the hem of her skirt, feeling the chill of her flesh, pebbling from the damp cold. Then, he began to pet the spot, rubbing it to create some warmth, generate some heat with his friction, and every brush from his palm meant that the wool of her skirt would scrunch up, revealing more and more of her plump butt as he did so. Eventually, he was under her skirt, realizing that the skirt was all there was. No panties, no hose, no nothing. 

“Ah, uh…” He made his excuses, “Sorry, love. Got a little carried away keepin’ you from freezin’ in here.”

He removed his hand for a moment, and then, the impossible: she grabbed it and placed it back where it was, peeking at him from the fiche machine, 

“Top of page seventy-nine, according to Marchante, the lost letters from Smith to Callant, prior to the war of 1617…” 

Game on. 

Price followed along dutifully, confirming each page with her, but now, spurred on by her teasing consent, his hand wandered unbridled. His fingers squeezed her body like the flesh of a ripe peach, soft and supple, giving way under his ferocious strength. Deeper and deeper, he snaked his way down the curve of her cheek, hunting for the parts of her that wouldn’t be taken by the cold. Her little, dripping furnace; that’s what he wanted. 

When he found it, her breath hitched. His ring and pinky fingers dropped far enough down to find her hanging right off of the stool, her holes uncovered, open to the air, unguarded and vulnerable to his searching hands. The slick, lava-hot heat that he discovered there as he sank between her folds warmed him from the inside, turning his erection into a huge fucking problem, painful and hungry for her sticky, sweet treat. When her words stuttered, he pumped his fingers deeper inside of her, steady in and steady out, up and down, the quiet milking noises muffled by her skirt. 

“Tch. C’mon, love, don’t stop readin’,” he purred in her ear, daring to plant a soft kiss in the hollow of her neck, pulling back to watch the goosebumps pebble across her skin not from the chill, but from him. 

“...in the, uh…” she was breathing heavy.

“In the coming months…” he prompted, teasing her with his hand, curling his fingertips as he delved deeper, pulling out some of her wetness to paint her lips, feeling her muscles loosen up for him, readying her for something more than his thick digits. 

“...in the coming months, the two armies… they… um, they…”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tha’s a good girl. Keep going.”

She tried her best, and he almost felt bad for her, but not that bad. Because when he added another finger, sinking his middle alongside his ring, letting his pointer finger lazily tease its way up the slick surface of her folds, reaching for her clit, her reading stopped entirely. 

“Mm, fuck!” She hissed under her breath, “John… I can’t…”

“I know, baby. I know. But, this is your bloody fault, innit?” John whispered, his voice gravelly and rolling beneath his breath, “You came in here, you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“No…” She whined, her mouth hanging open, her lips shining with a little bit of her own drool. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned darkly, “You wanted to see if I would take your fuckin’ bait.”

Another finger, three of them, twisting and curling, bending and rubbing against her tight walls, and that was enough for her confession.

“Yes. Yes, I… yes, fuck…”

“And you wore this just for me, didn’t you?”

“...yes.”

“My good girl,” John praised her, tossing the packet down on the desk and using his free hand to widen the neckline of her shirt.

He pulled at the fabric until he broke a button, forcing her breasts through the opening, shoving his hand into her bra to fondle her nipples and squeeze her full tits. Then, he made a true effort to tuck her clothes under them, letting her breasts sit on top of her bra cups, hanging freely in the soft glow of the reading machine. Now, with her nipples on full display, he could bend down to kiss them, to nip at them softly, suckling at her skin as he fingered her, eliciting nothing but desperate, quiet mewls from her open mouth. 

“John, please…”

She was barely perched on the stool anymore, her ass shifting and trembling, trying to present itself to him, her body wordlessly begging for more and more of his touch. 

“Please, what? Want me to pull a different document?” He chuckled, removing himself entirely, making as if to stand and leave her there a half-naked, dripping mess. 

“No!” She gasped, grabbing him by his shirt, yanking him back, shying away from his cruel laughter. 

He returned to her, using his fingers to explore her swollen pussy and, now, to lightly rim his way around the tight ring of her asshole. His once-gentle suckles against her puffy nipples turned into rough, bruising kisses, making her squirm from pleasure and pain, crying out for him. 

“Greedy thing,” he panted, feeling her flutter around his hand, “You wanna come on me? Right here? In the middle of my fuckin’ library?”

She nodded, her eyes now fixated on the way he was playing with her tits, stealing sweet kisses from her mouth when she would cry out too loudly. 

“Teasin’ me for weeks,” he admitted, pulling his hand from beneath her skirt, suckling on his fingers to taste her, sticking them in her mouth so she could join him, watching her pupils dilate as her own heady fluids touched her tongue. 

“So pretty…” John kissed her, and then it was his turn to gasp. 

She had let her hands wander to his lap, rubbing the outline of his cock through his jeans, teasing the head when she finally found it, encouraging him to buck against her touch. 

He started to fuck her with his hand; long, deep strokes, no longer caring about the lewd noises he was making as his knuckles churned within her, soaked and pumping in an unravelling rhythm. 

To hide her screams, he pressed his mouth against hers, stuffing her pretty cheeks full of his tongue, feeling her suck against it for comfort as she fell apart. 

Then, she was wet beyond belief, dripping all over his palm, creamy and hot, giving him a reward for every cruel thrust of his hand. She was gripping onto his cock’s shaft for dear life, holding it like a lifeline, and her tight grip was enough to drag him right along the edge with her. 

By the time he pulled away from her, she was a shuddering, trembling mess. Her legs were shaking, barely able to keep her balance on the tiny stool, her tits red and purple from his assault. 

“C’mere, sweetheart. Let’s go back to my office, yeah? Get you all cleaned up.”

She nodded, not even bothering to cover herself as he helped her stand, walking in front of him as he led her through the back door to the restricted area, her eyes hooded and exhausted from her ordeal, so sweet and trusting. 

“Thanks for your help, John,” she sighed, smiling up at him with that same grin that had haunted his dreams, “I wish there was some way that I could repay you. Is there anything I can do?”

Now that they were in his office, he sat her on his desk, unbuttoning the last remaining buttons of her blouse, peeling her bra away from her shoulders, unzipping the side of her skirt, grinning down at her wet sex, licking his lips like the wolf that he was,

“Oh, baby, there are so many things you could do for me. But, let’s start with you spreading your legs, hm?”

“Like this?” She did as he asked, watching him slide her skirt off of her body, letting it ruffle to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her heels. Slowly, she pulled her knees apart, showing off for him, knowing that as much as he was the wolf, she was more than just prey. 

“Holy shite,” John murmured under his breath, watching as she bloomed for him, a pink petal in the darkness of his own shadow. 

He knelt before her, eager to put his mouth against her softness, lapping his tongue against her like he was starving. Her thick thighs felt good in his hands, and he pried her open with them, pulling her legs even wider than she had dared. 

He dragged his tongue along every fold and dripping line of delicate skin, finding the swollen body of her clit nestled beneath its hood, shining for him like a pretty pink gem. He pressed his fingers back inside of her, not granting her any mercy, starting with three, stretching his way back in. 

John’s hand fucked her as he drank from her, reaping what he sowed, over and over, in and out, rubbing her to her peak and dragging her over the edge. 

She was gleaming down his beard by the time he’d had his fill. His tongue coated in her slick, swallowing her down his throat, enjoying the lingering taste of her in his mouth. 

His poor darling was hoarse from her keening, sweating, trembling below him, a drenched mess on his desktop. He chuckled, petting her skin with his callused hands, 

“Had enough?”

Her eyes were full of worry and anticipation as she looked up at him, wanting to say yes, but shaking her head no. 

He teased her, unzipping his fly, letting his cock roll out onto her belly, thrusting it forward until he was flush with her hips, showing her just how deep he would reach. Her eyes widened with shock as she reached down to touch him, feeling him dripping with precome far above her navel. 

John tapped himself against her, heavy and stiff, 

“Change your mind?”

“Um…” Her voice was small, but she still looked up at him expectantly, so he rubbed his head through her folds as a final warning. 

“Ungh! Mmf– John…” She moaned his name, rocking her hips against his long shaft, her knees shaking every time his head buried itself in her folds. 

He slapped his cockhead against her clit as if knocking for entry, making her gasp, 

“I’m not hearing a no, love.”

She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stop herself from screaming as she felt him notch his head into the cradle of her pussy, pressing forward just enough to stretch her with the body of his cock, watching as her eyes began to fill up with tears, overwhelmed by his size. 

By the time he was halfway into her warm core, her eyes had rolled behind her fluttering lashes, her breath stuck in her throat, her lips parted, showing him her lolling tongue. 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, yeah?” John grunted, shoving himself the rest of the way through her clenched muscles, listening to the sounds of her wetness as her body tried to make room for his immense girth. 

As John began to thrust into her, she squeezed herself against him, fighting off another orgasm, each of them coming closer and closer together as she became almost overstimulated by him. He held his fist over her lower belly, leaning forward to put his weight down into his knuckles, making her feel every inch of him. 

The pressure from his hand turned her into a gooey mess, her body throwing everything it could to accommodate him, her cries dragging out into deep moans, fully under his spell. 

He couldn’t help himself. All of those nights where his cock had only been comforted by his own hand were running him down, crackling at the edges of his mind, eating away at his humanity, ravenous and desperate. Finally feeling her, hearing her cry for him, watching the way her pussy sucked him in; it was making him wild. 

His desk was rocking off of its feet, scooting across the floor of his office, John’s strength too much for it to hold him back. He pulled her knees together, using them to push her thick thighs against her belly, holding her down at a new angle. For a few moments, he let himself get lost in the delightful jiggle of her body as he railed against her, admiring how her fat ass rippled with each of his thrusts. 

“John… J–John. Oh, my God,” she gripped the edge of the table, her elbows framing her head on either side, the new position making her breasts hang and sway like heavy teardrops. 

“Come for me, love. C’mon. Let me feel it,” he growled breathlessly, leaning against her leg, letting his lips and tongue graze along her ankle, tracing the skin between the straps of her gleaming heels. 

“I’m… so close…”

John kept his pace, even though everything within him wanted to breakdown and follow her over the edge. His cock was throbbing, sending him every signal that it was ready to burst, his aching balls full and tight, the nerves in his groin burning with hot pleasure. 

Then, he was rewarded for his patience. She began to unfurl beneath him, unraveling like a tangled ball of yarn, chaotic and spinning out of control. Her muscles within her core clamped down on his cock, milking him like a hungry mouth, yanking him deeper inside of her as she came. With all of the strength he had left, he pulled himself out of her at the last moment, spraying rope after rope of his come across her pulsating hole, painting her pussy with his own orgasm, grunting like a rabid animal. 

He let her legs fall open, weak as she was, watching as she melted on his desk, laying beside her. She curled into him, resting her head on his chest, still fully clothed in stark contrast to her nakedness. Both of them were breathing in ragged, exhausted bursts, clinging to each other for any kind of strength they could find left. 

“Thanks for… helping me, John,” she smiled up at him, kissing his neck. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he kissed her forehead, “Research is my second favorite thing.”

“What’s your first?” She looked lost, still reeling from what he had just put her through. 

“Oh, love,” he let out a low rumbling laugh, “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll show you again.”

[gyudollies]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ SPOT ! sneak peek

"up and down round and round, hit the spot, spot, spot spot."

synopsis: there was Beomgyu, your smart tutor who had anything but a clue in the world. and then there was Yeonjun, the best friend of your ex who might also happen to be your most current hookup. in which you, an aspiring painter gets the choice between love and life.

release date: tba.

masterpost

comment or ask to be on tag list !

(hi I'm vivi :)) I'm not sure when this will be released, as I'm currently in school and I have a quite long one shot in the works as well. But I'd like to put this out here as an opportunity to get involved ! moot me up...)

your life was falling apart.

recently you had gotten dumped by the only boy you'd ever dated or slept with, your boyfriend- well, ex boyfriend Sunwoo. The winter quarter ended and you went home for Christmas only for your childhood dog to choke on a candy cane and be put down on the night before Christmas. Your grades were - below your average marks and that had really tarnished Christmas dinner somewhat more than a death.

But the worst part ? As a way to get over said ex- you started sleeping with Choi Yeonjun, aka yours and Sunwoo’s childhood friend. You knew it was fucked up sure- but whats more fucked up? Sleeping with a mutual friend of your ex, or dumping your girlfriend with the excuse of focusing on football and being caught a week later with Kang Yuna in the back of the football field ? You’d known Yeonjun for longer so it was only fair !

Now here you sit in the library, writing down notes and looking over at your laptop screen every once and a while. It just so happened that both Sunwoo and Yeonjun were in the same library, at a different table pretending to do work and overall just fucking around. Sunwoo had hair recently dyed pink (the color he wouldn't allow you to dye his hair) and Yeonjun had recently gone back to a natural black. After multiple attempts from the librarian to shush them they eventually left, you quietly drowning in your thoughts. You could not focus now. You groaned, laying your head onto the old oak table and staring at your picked at nails. 

“I’m not ready for a commitment.” You recalled Sunwoo’s words on that day, scoffing internally at his statements. “Could’ve said that two years ago…” You mumbled against your sweater sleeve. The lights were beaming down onto the large doors, with every movement you could see how it had become quite dark outside. You knew it was freezing outside, January was always extremely cold down by your campus. Getting over the whiplash of seeing the face of someone who didn't spare a glance at yours, you packed your bag up and shrugged it over your shoulders. 

Your scarf was neatly placed upon you, you pull out your phone to check the time and weather of the currently pitch black night. 9:14PM. Later than usual, but not horrible. You gave a wave to the kind old librarian before opening up the large oak doors. You hiss at the feeling of the dark freezing cold outside, covering your nose with your scarf before heading your way to your apartment. 

Your dorm was warmer than the outside for sure, but not as warm as you needed it to be. You turned the heat up as you took off your shoes and discarded your bag onto the kitchen island. Your roommate Gaeul wouldn't be home for another two weeks due to a family emergency, so things like coming home to a warm house and a cooked meal wouldn't be enjoyed by you. You mumble to yourself as you get dressed into pajama pants to pair with your woolen sweater. It was an extremely lonely feeling, but Yeonjun was with your new arch nemesis and/or ex boyfriend, Gaeul was god knows where and you didn't have any super close friends that would come by at the drop of a hat. But you did have your little friend, your vibrator. You hummed at your idea, taking out your phone and ordering some food before you decided to get in your bed and relieve some of your stress. Masturbating was better than crying, right ? 

You discarded your pants and laid onto your recently washed bed set. Your purple vibe had started to power up, it hadn't been put to use in a while (thank you Yeonjun) so you patiently sat in your arousal praying that you don't get electrocuted. You edged the purple toy to your clit, your lip going in between your teeth at the sting. Soft noises escaped from your pursed lips, the stimulation hitting your clit perfectly. Your legs part, back arched as you groaned into your bottom lip. Just as your climax was soon approaching, the noise  of your familiar ringtone of the chain by fleetwood mac interrupted your focus on reaching your breaking point. You groaned, grabbing your cell, ready to hang up and finish before you see the caller ID.

Choi Beomgyu (tutor) filled your sight, you stared at it for a second before picking it up. “Hello ? y\n ?” His voice filled the room, your speaker nearly blasting your poor ears out. “Hey ! What’s up ? You never call.” You bit your lip, your clit was still twitching as you ghosted your vibrator over it. ‘No this is dirty’ you fought your internal thoughts, you felt like a total creep. But this was timed so well. Beomgyu never calls, he only texts in what seems to be in an uninterested tone with silly emojis. Even in real life, he was social of course, but never acted like a full friend to you. “Sorry, are you busy ? I thought you didn't work fridays. Sorry i’ll-” 

“No ! I-it’s okay, I'm not busy.” You caught the whine that nearly escaped your lips, your climax was becoming more important than self respect or morality. You needed this. You could hear Beomgyu let out a soft “ah” to himself. “I was wondering if you were free…tomorrow night.”

What ? You thought to yourself, it's getting weird now. “No- m not busy.” Like every weekend, all you did was order in and work on making new shades with the watercolors you were given this christmas. There was a pregnant pause, you put your lips together as an attempt to hold the noises threatening to escape your lips. Was he onto you ? “Um so.. You know how I play guitar ? I’ve got um a- gig tomorrow night and I was wondering if you wanted to come ? Sorry i know we're not close-” 

“Yes ! I mean..” You cleared your throat. “I’ll come. Where’s it at?” You looked down at your right hand in between your legs, you just orgasmed to Choi Beomgyu’s voice. You nearly screamed, throwing your vibrator across the room and scrambling to clean up the mess, as if someone was going to see. 

“y/n ? you okay ??” Beomgyu must've heard the squeak and bang against the wall and the only thing you could do was awkwardly chuckle. “yeah I'm okay !! just text me the details okay bye.”

You hung up on your hot tutor because you masturbated to his voice

(this is a rough draft btw...I am but a novice)

[spaghettixdemon]

J Stands for more words than one PT.4

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read it.

Warnings: Drinking/Drunkenness, P in V, getting freaky in a car, fighting, slight mentions of death, Jealousy??

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Little author message here- Finally out!! AHH part 4 was way overdue - and part 5 is almost ready to be posted >:) this chapter gets...interesting...so take that how you will

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 2.5 here | part 3 here

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Gracia, JJ, and Emily had gotten all dressed up and were already seated in a booth, chatting. Emily sat with JJ, and next to Garcia was an open seat. They had ordered a round of shots when they first arrived, and only a few minutes after the trio had arrived and started chatting, Y/N appeared with a staff member, showing her to the trio’s booth. Y/N was wearing a longer dress, one that was maybe a bit too much for meeting your boyfriends’ friends, but in her eyes better to be over than underdressed. “Hi! Aw you look so pretty!” Emily cheered when she saw Y/N approach them. “AH Y/N!! You’re so hot - what the heck??” Garcia jumped out of the booth and gave Y/N a quick, welcoming hug before the two sat down.

JJ was stunned. As soon as she saw Y/N walk over to their table, that pit in her stomach was back. Y/N genuinely looked so good. She was so beautiful, and all done up - from her hair to her heels. JJ was a grown woman, she shouldn’t feel so intimidated by someone younger and prettier than her…But…it was just so easy to be intimidated by someone who was currently dating your old coworker crush.

Y/N sat down and looked around with a smile. “So- did I miss anything??” Emily shook her head and handed Y/N a shot. “Nope! We all just got here as well..Garcia ordered a round for the table, so enjoy!” Y/N took the shot and looked around the table. She was a little nervous meeting these women, but she decided to take the shot to push down those anxious feelings. Garcia and Emily cheered as Y/N drank, slamming the shot glass down as she put it back on the table in front of them. The group cheered, all making small talk while they drank themselves half blind. “So, I’m sure all of us want to know how you and Spence met!” JJ started the conversation, a smile on her face. Emily and Garcia lit up, excited to hear about Y/N’s experience with their ‘boy wonder’. Y/N glanced over at JJ, shrugging and smiling softly.

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 “I mean…I work as a librarian, so I’d see him reading books all the time, staying at the library for so long that I’d have to kick him out for closing time…” Y/N looked down at a shot glass she was fidgeting with in her hands before looking back up at everyone. “I always thought he was pretty cute, so one time when I was going to kick him out for closing time, I just…asked him out” She shrugged, her small smile slowly growing. “In my eyes there was no harm in asking, and if things went south, well, I was already kicking him out” The group laughed, hearing the couples’ origin while Garcia smiled warmly. She cupped her hands together as Y/N shared this story. “Aww that’s so romantic - and so Spencer to be asked out at a library of all places”. Y/N grinned, nodding excitedly as she took another shot for confidence. 

—————————————————————————————————

JJ just nodded, taking another shot as she thought about asking Spencer out. Hypothetically what she would do. Hypothetically how she would go about it. She probably knew him better than this girl anyways…JJ was quiet, deep in thought as the other girls chatted. It was late into the night, and the girls had all easily drank too much. They were slurring their words, playing drinking games, and enjoying themselves…well…most of them. JJ sat next to Y/N, looking more annoyed as the night went on. “Oh! Oh! I have another question” Garcia butted into Emily and Y/N’s conversation. “Is he romantic? I can’t picture him not being a shy nerdy guy…” Y/N smiled warmly, thinking about her boyfriend. She wanted to call him, text him…anything really. She just missed him after all. She nodded, a faint blush crossing her cheeks. “Oh yeah! He’ll write me poems, surprise me with flowers when he gets home from long trips, and loves baking…’because it’s a science’  as he would say” Y/N took another sip of her new drink, and sighed. “He surprises me in other ways after long trips, but we don’t have to get into that…” She said it as a passing comment, but everyone’s heads shot to Y/N. JJ, in particular, was starting to feel uncomfortable…she had been picturing this new, unknown version of Spencer in her mind. Imagining baking with him…Imaging him bringing her flowers…This was not ok. JJ knew this was bad, yet she couldn’t stop these images flashing into her mind…except Y/N never seemed to be pictured. “Ooooo and what other ways does he surprise you??” This time Emily was the one to jump in and speak. Garcia followed suit, grinning “Yeahhh Y/N what other ways? Spill it!” Y/N was definitely too sober for this conversation. Especially with his coworkers?? Y/N reached for another drink, trying to feel the buzz.

—————————————————————————————————

Y/N looked around the table, and sighed. “Well you know, his memory is pretty insane…if we…” she gestured with her hand, “…If I like something, he already knows.. I don’t have to pretend I’m enjoying anything…I don’t have to remind him what I don’t like…ya know?” She paused and smiled “He’s putting that memory to good use..” Garcia and Emily grinned, surprisingly enjoying the thrill of learning about the secret sides of their coworker. “So what- you do anything?” The question cut through the air like shards of glass. Y/N turned to face JJ, a confused expression on her face. “What?” All JJ could think about was Spencer this. Spencer that. Spence…everything. She was trying to shift the conversation away from him, for her own sake. “You heard me…what do you do?” 

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Y/N had a confused expression on her face, looking back to the empty shot glass in front of her. She started to slowly spin the rim of the glass, pursing her lips as she thought “Well…when you’ve all been away for at least a week or two, traveling across the country…” She paused, a small smile growing  on her face as she thought about her boyfriend. “I always make sure he walks through the door feeling comforted and happy…Sometimes I’ll go out for the week…pick up something…purple” Y/N laughed softly and looked up at the group in front of her, especially keeping an eye on JJ. “Did you know that? He…really loves the color purple…like a lot…” She continued to speak. “Sometimes I’ll plan a little scavenger hunt, just for him..” Her smile grew “Like…hide things around our apartment building and make him work for what he wants…and as far as I know he enjoys finding the clues…little price tags hidden in the laundry room, a box from his favorite brand in the lobby, little love notes saying what-” Y/N turned a little bit, glancing at JJ. “what I’m gonna do once he solves the scavenger hunt…” Y/N shrugged and smiled warmly. “Sometimes I throw in little puzzles for him to solve…cause why not…I like the way he looks using that big brain of his…it’s pretty cute…” “and then?” Gracia jumped in, almost hanging on every word. Y/N looked back at Garcia, a small smirk forming across her lips as she shrugged. “Well, once he makes his way back to the apartment, after…finishing the little game i set up, he gets what he wants” She shrugged, the smirk stuck on her face. JJ pursed her lips, taking that all in. She never imagined Spencer being like…like this? Hell- why was she even imagining what she’d be like with him? In compromising positions? This was bad. Very bad…

—————————————————————————————————

Some Time Later

The girls were all at least 5 drinks deep, not including the 10 shots they took. The girls were wasted, to say the least. As the night went on, so did the questions aimed towards Y/N. The only difference from the start of their interrogation? Y/N was pretty drunk.Garcia was still somehow full of energy and egging Y/N on, begging to hear all the gossip. “-And oh my gosh the praise..? It’s so sexy sometimes..oh! And-” “Oh! What’s he working with..?” JJ jumped in, yet again. Though, Y/N didn’t seem to care this time. Garcia laughed and gestured towards JJ, agreeing with her. “Yeah! You hyped him up, now we gotta know!” Y/N looked amongst the group and quickly held her hands up and started moving them slowly, farther apart (think that one Family Guy bit with Stewie and Taylor Swift). Everyone laughed, gasping and shouting as Y/N finally stopped. JJ shoved Y/N “shut up! No way!” Y/N just smiled and shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant.

—————————————————————————————————

JJ was wasted. Not buzzed, not drunk- wasted. She would drink, trying to forget the things Y/N would mention, but it was no use. All she could think of was Spencer. Walking over to her sitting at her BAU desk, when he would softly grab her by the chin, making her look at him. He would be shirtless, wearing only a BAU bullet-proof vest over his toned- no- ripped chest. He would scoop her up, carrying her bridal style over to the elevator outside their office. “-JJ? JJ we asked you a question…” It was Emily that brought JJ out of her drunken fantasy. This was past the point of bad, but JJ didn’t seem to care. “Huh? What was the question?” Emily and Garcia looked at each other before Garcia spoke up. JJ was so off tonight. ”You’re so close with Spencer! Does he ever bring Y/N up..?” It was an odd question, yeah, but they were drunk and definitely were not keeping things professional.

—————————————————————————————————

JJ thought about Spence. She had been through everything with him. She honestly considered herself his work wife, but they never really discussed stuff like that. All she could think about was what they’ve been through, what they’ve witnessed, when they would comfort each other during especially hard cases. Shne shrugged, seeming unimpressed. “I mean yeah, sometimes I’d see him talking on the phone before and he looked…so..happy..” JJ pursed her lips and smiled awkwardly. Then, maybe it was the alcohol or all the memories tied to Spencer, but something slipped out that definitely should not have. “..You aren’t even a little bit scared to be with him? To be attached to a government job like ours..?” Y/N looked over at JJ. She had a twisted expression on her face. She looked like some mix of discomfort and frustration. Y/N’s brows furrowed and she turned to face JJ. “Should I be…?”  “You know I’m - we’re all much more used to the steaks this job brings, maybe you’re just…not ready for all that” Y/N was frustrated, confused by this constant twist of words and deception. She tried to play off the comments by laughing. “Come on JJ, we’ve been dating for quite some time now…I think I can handle being with him-” JJ jumped in, cutting Y/N off yet again. “You can handle it? Yeah? Well, where were you when he was trying to get over his addiction..? Where were you when he got kidnapped and almost died…?” The three girls were stunned, listening to the drunken ramblings of JJ. Y/N felt embarrassed. She had no idea these things had happened to her boyfriend, he had never really brought them up to her. “What..? JJ I think you’ve had enough..” Y/N awkwardly tried to push away the drink in front of JJ, but she ended up grabbing Y/N’s wrist. The two stared deeply into each other’s eyes, almost as if no one else was in the room. “JJ come on now, that’s enough…” It was Emily who finally spoke up, trying to defend Y/N. “His last girlfriend died because of this job…did he ever tell you that..? Did you ever help him through the grieving process..? Did you even consider you don’t know him like we do…maybe you’re just not meant for someone like him”

—————————————————————————————————

You could hear a pin drop. Y/N just sat there, feeling disgusted, confused, and upset. Garcia and Emily started shouting at JJ, trying to get her to take back what she said. “What? Am I wrong? You all witnessed the same things I did!” Y/N just sat there, processing what JJ had just said. Taking it in, looking it over, processing… everything. She slowly looked back up at JJ, anger seeping onto her face. “And what- you think you’re so much better? You think you know him like I do…? Jennifer- JJ- ugh whatever the fuck your name is, he’s my boyfriend - not yours he didn’t ask you out. He doesn’t love you. Doesn’t touch you, like he does to me- ok?” 

—————————————————————————————————

JJ scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever - love me or not, you could never be as close as we are...” Y.N was angry now - “Wow ok…” Y/N looked up to see a clock on the wall, it was past midnight. She moved out of the booth, scooting and shoving before finally getting free. She stood in front of everyone, looking past JJ to the other girls. They both looked equally uncomfortable. “Ladies…it was nice to meet you but…I think I’m gonna get a ride home…” Y/N walked past the booth, heading for the bar near the entrance. She finally relaxed as she sat down, the stress she was facing earlier disappearing. What the fuck was that?

—————————————————————————————————

Spencer had been enjoying his night, watching movies and getting ready to head to bed. He was happy Y/N was finally learning more about his work life, and the people in it. They had been dating for a year now, and he loved Y/N, wanted to keep her in his life any way he could. That’s when his cell phone started to ring. Spencer muted the TV, walking over to see…it was Y/N? “Y/N? Hello, what's up? Any thoughts on the girls yet?” “I need you to come pick me up..I..drank too much and feel sick..” Spencer’s eyebrows raised and he walked over to grab his car keys. “Ok…Ok don’t worry baby I’ll be there soon…just stay put…” What had happened? Why did Y/N sound…sad..? Maybe it was just her sickness…it was probably just that.

—————————————————————————————————

15 minutes later

Spencer walked into the bar, seeing Y/N alone at the bar counter. Ok, now he was really confused. Why was she alone? Why was her body language so…closed off? Where were his coworkers? “..Y/N..?” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He watched her turn around, and her disappointed reaction quickly morphed into shock and happiness. He loved the way she smiled, how she looked when he finally appeared in front of her at the bar. She pulled him in for a hug, something he wasn’t usually comfortable with, but he would accept a hug any day or time from the person he loves. “Spencer..!” He heard a familiar voice stumbling towards him. “Garcia…? What’s going on..?” Garcia looked at Y/N then to Spencer. “It was so great getting to know Y/N but um…JJ happened…” Garci turned back to see the table. “She…drank a little too much..” Spencer, confused, made sure to bookmark that information and ask JJ what happened very soon. “Okay…” He looked back over at Garcia “you guys need a ride home too? We’re all pretty close by, we can drop you off…”

—————————————————————————————————

Garcia looked at Y/N, and sighed, looking back towards the table. “I mean, if Y/N’s ok with it…it would definitely be cheaper and safer than taking a taxi…” Y/N, tired and annoyed, smiled softly shrugging Garcia’s question off.. “Sure why not?” Garcia smiled and gave Y/N a side hug. “Thank you thank you thank you! I’ll go grab the girls” Garcia walked away, and Spencer just watched. He gently placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back. Was something weird going on? Or was he  suddenly really bad at reading people? 

—————————————————————————————————

One by one, the girls, Y/N, and Spencer walk out of the bar together. Garcia and Emily are laughing, holding onto each other as they stumble towards Spencer’s car. JJ stumbled out as well, possibly acting the most drunk out of the group. The sidewalk was uneven, and as she made her way towards the car, she not-so gracefully stumbled and almost fell, grabbing Spencer's forearm. Y/N just stared at JJ. Oh that was so on purpose. Y/N just rolled her eyes, watching as Spencer helped JJ up. “You ok JJ..? That was a rough fall” “Honestly…I don’t know…maybe I could hold onto you for support..? Just so I don’t fall again..” A confused expression formed on Spencer’s face, but he shrugged it off. “Ok..” JJ perked up, smiling as she hugged Spencer’s arm and held onto it for support.

—————————————————————————————————

Look at her. So smug, so insufferable, so…annoying. It was honestly gross. Y/N let go of Spencer’s hand she had been holding, and just watched JJ from the side. JJ glanced over at Y/N, smirking. So…cringey. Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, following the group. “Where is this car anyway? Did you park on the opposite end of the earth..?” Emily joked, but honestly, they had been walking for at least 6 minutes now. Where was this car anyway? “Right here! No more walking” Spencer chuckled and opened the passenger and back doors for everyone. Emily and Garcia sighed with relief, no more walking. The pair climbed into the backseats. “Thankss Spencer! Yeah thanks Reid!” They laughed and sat comfortably, ready to go. Now it was just a trio, Spencer standing in between either woman. JJ finally let go of his arm, but smiled up at him, biting her lip and laughing softly. “Spence…I’mm like���ffivee minutes away…can I sit in the frront seat..?” Spencer turned to face Y/N. To be fair, she was closest to this bar. It was a 15 minute drive from her house…but what it would symbolize, having his “work wife” in the passenger seat next to him…while his actual girlfriend sat in the back…that was not a good look for them. Though, the more she thought about it, she’d be able to spend time with the coworkers she actually liked, and laugh with. “You know what? Go ahead. I’ll be in the back with Garcia and Emily..”

—————————————————————————————————

Wait- what? Spencer looked at Y/N, confusion crossing his face once again. JJ smiled though and shrugged “If you insist…” And without hesitation, she hurried over to the front seat while Y/N made her way to the back, greeting the other girls with a smile. Spencer goes to the driver's side and shuts the door, confusion still fueling his brain. JJ seemed so much happier about this than the others, watching Spencer as she started to drive down the road, bringing JJ back to her home. Wow Spencer was…so…”You’rre soo cool when you drrive with onne hand Spencce..you lookk like a badass from one of those crime shows…” 

Spencer laughed awkwardly. Why was JJ acting this way? It was…odd. “Um…thanks? I guess..?” he felt weird, glancing up into the rear view mirror, seeing Y/N. She seemed annoyed. She was rolling her eyes and occasionally talking with Emily and Garcia…huh. Something was definitely up. Spencer looked back to the road and sighed. Whatever was going on, whatever this tension was in the air, needed to be resolved asap.

—————————————————————————————————

10 minutes later

“Annddd here we are!” Spencer pulled into JJ’s driveway. He smiled, looking to the person in his passenger seat. JJ smiled, visibly drunk. “SSpencee can you wwalk me insidee..?” JJ softly grabbed Spencer’s wrist, looking up at him hopefully. She tugged at his slender wrist, pleading. “Cmonn please..?” Reid glanced at Y/N in the back seat and sighed. He did care about JJ, and this was probably the right thing to do. “Fine...but I gotta drop off the other ladies so let’s speed this up..!” He continued to smile, getting out of the car as JJ was visibly excited. She glanced back towards the car before they shut the front door, heading inside.

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taglist: @libraprincessfairy @esposadomd @teenwolfbitches28

[v3nusxsky]

I wanted to make a request of like dom!lesso and shysubby!reader where the reader is a quiet new librarian of the merging schools and they get off to an angsty start where lesso HATES the reader and the reader just wants to be friends and then maybe some smut happens and then lesso gets soft for the reader and they live happily ever after✨✨

Unexpected lover 18+

*Authors note ~ finally getting through my assignments which is freeing up some writing time to get through some requests I’m so sorry it’s taken me ages to get to it school literally is killing me*

Trigger warnings~ dom lesso, subby r, mommy kink, praise kink, thigh riding, sorta enemies to lovers?, degrading kink, begging, oral sex, slight pet play/humiliation kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^

You joined the schools staff team when the schools still held the divide. Good vs evil. And you happened to be the one stuck in the middle. As a librarian to both schools you had your fair share of encounters with people from each side. Sure the ever side was very sweet and friendly but there was something about the Never side that made your heart break, clearly they were misunderstood but trying to conform to why society makes them. Even with the two deans you could see the parallel between them. Despite her behaviour toward you, you were drawn to the dean of evil like a moth to light. She was just so intense and intelligent that your heart always beat an extra beat in her presence.

To Leonora, you were an annoyance. Her students raved about your calming aura and how respectful you were to everyone. How good. And that was a hindrance to say the least. Here she was doing her job, trying to mold the next villains into being successful and yet you seemed to fight against her every step by showing them kindness and respect. It was frustrating beyond belief. At least that’s what she told herself, it most definitely wasn’t that she felt drawn to you, completely and utterly ignorant to her own desires to be near you. Evil doesn’t love. Evil doesn’t like. Evil is chaos and mess, everything you weren’t. So she most definitely wasn’t drawn to something so… good. Pure. Fire would freeze over in hell before she admitted the truth that ate away at her heart.

You hoped with the schools merger that Leonora would come round. Everyone else in the schools had, the library was now filled with a gentle buzz, students mixing with ease, the staff seemed to be managing well too. All expect her. At first you blamed yourself. Perhaps you were too shy, too needy, or even weak to her. But then you’d remind yourself that everyone else likes you. Everyone else speaks to you in the corridor as they pass. Everyone but her. You are by no means a scary person, people often think you’re easily manipulated due to your timid nature, so it can’t be that. Leonora doesn’t strike you as the type of woman to be scared of little old you. All you wished for was the same cordial friendship with her that you had with others. Instead you seemed to be more of an annoyance to her, like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you. Breathe the same air.

Every story to ever be told has had a meaning, a message to the reader. You loved discovering what the words on the page were trying to tell you. Most story’s you adore have the clear message that the line between love and hate, like and lust and fear and desire can be thin. Sometimes so thin it’s hardly visible. You like to believe this is true, you see it daily as someone who observes the coming and going’s of people frequently visiting the library. Each day there’s something new, a development in their own story, something you thrive on noticing. Little did you know, your story was about to get a new chapter, with a curve ball no one would have expected to occur.

The new chapter began like any other, working to tidy all the books and close the library for the night, ensuring every book was returned to its rightful spot while students began to filter out and back to their dorms from the late night study they were engaged in. Yet the presence of one dean in your usually calm atmosphere was throwing you off. She seemed to be engrossed in her book that she’d swiped from the curses and death traps section. She sat ever so regally by the heater in the corner of the room. It was hard not to notice the striking woman in your space, yet if she noticed you she didn’t seem interested as she flicked through the pages of her book.

By the time you’d sorted all the books in the library you’d made many hints of the time, the fact the library was closing and even going as far to stand behind the counter nervously drumming your fingers against the wood. You wished to have the confidence to ask the woman to leave, yet you couldn’t find it in your heart to approach her. Not when this was the closest to co existing in each other’s presence you’d got since you took the job. You’d be lying if you said she wasn’t slightly intimidating, it’s unsurprising that she was the one to make the move.

Meanwhile Lesso was getting irritated with the constant sound echoing round the room, interrupting her book. Your nervous energy was practically suffocating the woman. It was obvious you were waiting for her to leave, subtly wasn’t a strong suit of yours she decided. That’s when something snapped within her, this cat and mouse game needed to end. Evil doesn’t need to ask, evil gets one way or an other and you aren’t any different if you want her to leave her you’re gonna have to earn it.

“Got something to say dove?” Her words flowed like honey, the nickname coming from thin air but feeling so right it just flowed, “why don’t you just say it?” Leonora was talking to you. You. The shock clouded your mind causing her to chuckle, “cat got your tongue huh?”

“I- you- uh” you stuttered dumbly trying to not make a fool of yourself with trembling limbs you asked her to leave so you could close up. “If you want me to leave then you should come over here and make me” her challenge was set, yet she couldn’t be bothered to even spare you a look. If she did she would’ve seen the crimson blush covering your cheeks as you internally fought with yourself. Could you just walk to her and get her to leave? Would it be that easy?

Minutes later you slowly rounded the desk, hesitantly making your way to the woman only to be stilled by a tut of displeasure. “Did I say you could walk to me? No. Crawl dove, be a pretty pet and put a show on for me.” Crawl? Seriously? “I - what?” You mumbled causing the dean of evil to lazily click her fingers at you as if you were nothing more than a disobedient puppy.

You aren’t sure what bothers you more, that you sank onto your hands and knees or that arousal rushed through your body at the treatment. Scanning the empty library you started to crawl forward, eyes downcast as you obeyed her wish. The carpet scraped against your bare knees, the skirt of your dress dragging on the floor and getting stuck as you moved. By the time you reached the older woman, humiliated and aroused she had discarded her book to appreciate the view. The way your chest heaved and you kept your eyes to the ground drove her wild as you sat back on your knees. So pliant for her. So willing. Desperately trying to please her. She’d have some fun with a pretty pet like you. “What do you say we have some fun, show me what a good girl you can be.”

You swear you’ve had this dream before. The kind you wake in the middle of night questioning your subconscious brain. It’s only natural that you immediately nod along to her request. With a simple demand of “earn it then” and a snap of her fingers her pussy was on display for your curious eyes to view. With a simple gesture to get on with it you dove straight in. You always imagined she would like the tougher side of sex, she wouldn’t want the teasing build up and you were right. Her hand came to your hair, gripping the locks so tight it was almost painful. Almost. The sinful moan you let free was immediately swallowed by her greedy core cause the vibrations to hit her clit deliciously.

“Mm my what a good dove you are. Just like that baby” she grunted as her hips started to buck into your mouth, covering your lower face with her slick. “God what a good slut I have here. Wouldn’t have waited this long to claim you if I knew you were such a whore.” If you weren’t glued to her core you may have protested at the language she was using. Yet again, you weren’t in the position to argue as you ate her out with abandon. You could tell you were doing a good job when her thighs tensed and her moans seemed to be louder than before. The closer she got to climax the more praise she threw at you causing you to press your thighs together. Desperate for some friction. Relief. And that sight, you being nothing more than a needy whore on your knees, eating her cunt like it’s the last meal on death row was what threw her over the edge. Inner walls clenching as you lapped up your reward with ease.

You only pulled away from her warm core because she made you. Tugging you up to your feet by your hair. You stumbled slightly as the blood flow returned to your lower legs causing her to easily settle you on her lap. Your clothed pussy settled over her good thigh as her hand settled under your chin to guide you into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. Unsurprisingly, as soon as the kiss started she was in control. The way she would nip at your lip to allow the metallic taste to dance between your tongues caused you to whine into her mouth. The level of need this woman awoke in you should be criminal. You couldn’t be more glad that she gave in and crossed the line between love and hate.

Instinctively, you began to slowly drag your clothed pussy along her toned thigh, seeking friction as she kissed you. A kiss so good you saw you forgot your own name. Her hand came to grip your hip, guiding your almost pathetic grinding. Pulling away from the kiss she couldn’t help but tease you. “A desperate thing you are hmm? So needy you are gonna use my thigh like a bitch in heat? Poor girl. Have I neglected this needy cunt?” Her words combined with the friction she provided was dizzying. So dizzying in fact, you mewled “mommy please” before your brain could even catch up.

“Oh it’s like that is it dove?” Her signature smirk graced her lips before she trailed them to your lips, nipping and sucking the silky smooth skin there. “I- oh, mm please mommy. Oh God” you whined chasing the pleasure she was providing too much to even care about the name choice. “Gonna cum for mommy darling? Gonna cum all over my thigh? Such a pretty slut for me. Go on, cum” she punctuated the last word by sinking her teeth into the junction between your neck and shoulder causing you to hurtle over that edge, riding out every wave of pleasure that hit you.

Leonora couldn’t help but be star struck by the post orgasmic bliss that over took you, ragged breaths as you fought to calm your heart rate, shaking legs that tried to grip her thigh in order to keep the sensation alive. Big doe like eyes peering at her through hooded lashes. Stunning. A sight that should belong to the heavens alone. And in this moment where you collapsed into her, her arms wound around you too quickly to be thought of, she knew that you would be hers. Evil or not, she couldn’t bear to let anyone see you like this. A pretty little thing begging for mommy to help her. Perhaps good and evil could co exist. After all you fit so perfectly in her arms it would be sinful to separate you from her. Maybe just maybe, evil did get good, to love and to cherish and to enjoy.

Word count~ 2032

[writerfae]

Meet me at the library

Hello! I'm still not around here atm but it is Henry's birthday and since I abandoned my son for long enough I thought I owe him a little screentime here on tumblr, I hope you enjoy!

Callan made his way to the castle’s library. It’s been a busy day, a draining one. Task after task and duty after duty demanding his undivided attention, with barely any time to breathe in between.

There were quite a few of these days in his life and he had to admit that sometimes they were quite draining. But Callan mastered them anyway – he had to.

He was, after all, a king and no one said being the king was going to be easy. Callan knew that, had always known. Still, he was more than glad that at least for today, he could finally get some rest.

It was later than he expected. The sky was already darkening, only a few last rays of the sinking sun remained.

They reached out, mixing blue with orange, one last gift of light before the sun sunk fully into earth’s warm embrace.

Callan, too, yearned for the embrace of a loved one and so he sped up his steps. Him and Henry had agreed to meet at the library after Callan was done with his duties.

His love had to wait for him longer than usual today, but Callan knew Henry wouldn’t resent him for it.

He understood Callan’s responsibility as king and he had the patience of a Dha’ir, both things Callan loved him for.

Thoughts of meeting his beloved had carried Callan through the whole day and now that the time was finally near, he couldn’t be happier.

Finally, he reached the massive wooden doors of the library and pushed them open, stepping into the all too familiar place.

Ever since Callan could think, he had loved the library. Along with the garden, it was his favorite place at the palace.

He couldn’t count the hours, the days he had spent in here, the big shelves full of books that reached up until the ceiling a sight beloved and as familiar to him as his own mind.

Despite its massive size, Callan could walk this place blind, could find his favorite books in the blink of an eye, even without the use of the magical system the library had to offer.

But now he wasn’t looking for his favorite books, but for his favorite person.

He couldn’t see him anywhere, not by the fireplace nor their other favorite corners, but that was no reason for worry.

The place was so big you could easily get lost in it and Henry had the habit of disappearing in the farthest, most unexpected corners of the library when he was caught up in his studies.

It seemed inappropriate for Callan to disturb the peace and quiet of this place by loudly calling his husband’s name, so he chose to just wander through the shelves and search for him in silence, letting the calm atmosphere wash away the stress from the day.

He heard a quiet sound coming from one of the shelves and looked around the corner to see if Henry was the one causing it. It wasn’t him, instead, Callan saw another familiar face.

He stepped forward, making his presence known. “Good evening, Rowan,” he said with a smile.

The librarian, who seemed to have just sorted back books into the shelf, jumped a little at the unexpected sound, which made Callan chuckle.

“Oh, uh, your majesty,” Rowan bowed quickly, a little flustered, one of the books still in hand.

Callan had told them countless times before to drop the formalities, since they have known each other for so many years he considered the slightly clumsy but lovable librarian to be a good friend, but he assumed they haven’t grown used to it yet, so he accepted the courtesy without a comment.

The librarian adjusted their round glasses that had slipped from their nose a little and pressed the book they were holding close to their chest, a clear sign of their shyness around him – or any people, for that matter.

Because Callan knew that Rowan was a pretty timid soul that preferred the company of books over that of people most of the time. They seemed to like both him and Henry though.

“How…” They cleared their throat. “How may I help you, your majesty?”

“Did you by any chance see my husband around here? We’ve agreed to meet up at the library, but I haven’t found him in any of our usual spots,” Callan asked.

“Oh!” Rowan exclaimed, face lighting up.

If it was because of the mention of Henry, who Callan had learned was someone Rowan admired a lot, or the implication that they were set up on a date (Rowan was a hopeless romantic at heart), Callan couldn’t tell.  

“Henry- I mean, uh, his highness was sitting by the poetry section, last time I saw him. Nose buried deep in an old book, blind to the world outside of it, like it is his habit.”

They smiled and Callan did as well. Yes, that sounded just like Henry.

He bowed his head. “Then that’s where I will find him still, knowing him. I thank you, Rowan.”

A blush crept up the librarian’s cheeks again and they nodded.

They bowed again and then, considering themself dismissed, turned back to the bookshelf, huffing a little breath of relief, probably because the conversation was over.

Callan knew not to take it personal, aware of the intimidating effect his title had on the librarian and made his way to finally meet his lover.

He found Henry exactly where Rowan had last seen him, sitting in a big moss-green armchair, reading in a book with a thick leather binding in the same color as the chair he was sitting in.

Callan stopped in his tracks to just look at his beloved. Henry was fully focused on the book in his hands, brows slightly furrowed with concentration and raven hair a little messy.

No doubt from absentmindedly running a hand through it, a habit of his when he was pondering over a book.

On the small table next to him sat a stack of even more books.

He must’ve been there for quite a while and despite knowing that Henry didn’t mind waiting for Callan to finish his duties, he felt a little bad about making him wait that long still.

As if sensing his presence, Henry looked up from the book the second Callan stepped closer and a smile spread on his face.

“Hey,” he said, carefully putting the book aside and reaching for Callan’s hand. “There you are.”

He pressed his lips against Callan’s knuckles and that small gesture alone made even the rest of Callan’s inner exertion melt away.

The warmth of his hand and the feeling of his lips against Callan’s skin was so familiar, so calming, that he started to forget all the stress of the day.

Callan sighed, content, and following the light tug of Henry’s hand he let himself be pulled into the other’s lap.

“Here I am,” Callan confirmed quietly, leaning against Henry and burying his face in the crook of his neck, his beloved’s scent and warmth immediately making him relax, curving even more into the all too familiar body under him.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

Henry hummed. “It’s not like it is your fault, my love.”

He ran a hand through Callan’s hair.

“And you are here now, that’s all that matters,” he added, voice soft. He turned his head and kissed Callan’s temple.

Which was nice, but not nearly enough for Callan. He hadn’t seen his husband all day, had missed him every second they were apart.

Just like he always did.

Judging by the way Henry held him close, he probably felt much the same.

And so, Callan lifted his head and leaned up to kiss Henry properly. Henry smiled into the kiss, cupping Callan’s cheek to bring them even closer.

After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, they pulled apart. Henry’s hand remained where it was, thumb gently caressing Callan’s cheek.

“You look tired,” he noted, a frown tugging at his handsome face. “Was it a rough day?”

Callan sighed. He didn’t want to ruin their time together with tiring stories of an equally tiring day, but at the same time he yearned to get all of today’s worries out of his chest.

“Tell me, love,” Henry said gently, sensing Callan’s struggle.

And so, he did. Leaning his head against Henry’s shoulder, tugged into his warm embrace like he had craved it all day, he told him about his day.

About meeting after meeting and discussion after discussion, with no time for a proper break and an never ending stream of requests and questions and debates.

With every word he spoke he could feel his heart grow lighter and he once again was thankful that Henry was such a good listener.

He let Callan ramble and complain to his heart’s content, offering little nods and affirmations and comments here and there, while caressing Callan’s back the whole time. It was exactly what Callan had needed.

And of course, Henry had known that. He always knew the right thing to say, the right thing to do to help Callan out.

And by the goddesses, by the trees and the light and all else divine, Callan loved it, loved him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Henry’s jaw.

Henry looked down to him, smiling. “No need to thank me. We made a promise, remember? Joy and sorrow, dream and burden…”

“All this I will share with you.” Callan smiled.

How could he ever forget? Those were their wedding vows after all.

He kissed Henry again, short and sweet and grinned as Henry chased after him briefly when they parted.

“And you?” he asked, hooking his arms around Henry’s neck. “How was your day?”

“It was good.”

Now it was Callan who listened to Henry talk, looking at him full of fondness as he told about the guard meeting, his training with Valentin and his research at the library.

Henry was a scholar at heart. He loved to learn new things. About their culture, their history, their origin.

As someone who had spent the majority of his life believing that his very own people were… not exactly a myth, but something that was as unreachable as one, Henry had a lot to catch up on.

And that he did.

With a passion and a hunger for knowledge, with wits and such impressive memory that there was no doubt that he belonged to the court of wisdom.

Callan was extremely proud of him.

Currently, Henry was researching Tean Trea, the ancient language. A majority of it was lost to their people by now, but some words still lingered.

“I found this book.” Henry reached over to the table, grabbing the book with the green binding he had been reading when Callan found him and offered it to Callan.

The binding felt soft under his hands as he traced the golden letters that were printed on the cover. The title was written in the ancient language, the words unknown to Callan.

“It’s an anthology of poems,” Henry explained excitedly. “Poems in the old language. I’ve been trying to read them all day.”

Callan opened the book. It didn’t have magic woven into it like other books in their library, but the poems were written in golden ink that shimmered so brightly Callan was almost sure they would glow in the dark of night.

The paper was old, the pages a little greenish at the edges.

“This must be pretty old,” Callan shared his observation.

He flipped through the pages and though he couldn’t understand most of the written words, the beauty of this book captivated him.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I knew you’d like it. It is full of love poems.” Henry smiled at him. “It made me think of you, reading some of these poems.”

Callan looked at Henry in surprise. “You were able to read them?”

Callan himself knew a couple of ancient words too, mostly from prayers and rituals, but he couldn’t find a single poem on these pages that he was able to fully understand.

“Some of them, yeah. There are ones that were quite simple.” Henry’s smile grew.

He reached out to open a certain page for Callan to look at. “This one is one of my favorites.”

Callan examined the poem. Henry was right, it did seem easier to understand, some of the words all too familiar to him. And though he couldn’t understand all of it, he could definitely tell that it was a poem that spoke of love.

Especially when he saw the last line.

„Ni ma ahnra, ni ma criah,“ he read aloud. “Ni ma ghri’an, gheal, ghir’nan.“

He looked up at Henry, who looked at him in the way that never failed to get Callan flustered. “That’s beautiful.”

A smile tugged at Henry’s lips as he leaned closer to Callan, cupping his face with his hands. Callan blushed even harder.

“You are my soul, you are my heart” Henry began to recite, voice so quiet Callan wouldn’t have heard him if they weren’t so close.

“You are my sun,” he kissed Callan’s cheek.

“My moon,” his other cheek as well. And lastly…

“My stars,” Henry whispered against Callan’s lips before closing even the last bit of distance between them.

Callan was sure his heart would jump out of his chest at any given second. “I love you,” he whispered into the kiss. “By the goddesses, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, ma criah.”

And just like that, all troubles of his day were completely forgotten, his exhaustion replaced with other, far more pleasant feelings, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of his beloved.  

***

tag list: @andifthestarsweretodie @bloodlessheirbyjacques @bluehourskyeli @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @justafrogandherumbrella @ladywithalamp @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @my-cursed-prince @phantasticdomains @rhikasa @sleepy-night-child @soupopoireau @theguywithnonickname @vampywriter @vsnotresponding @writing-is-a-martial-art (if you want to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!)

[procyonloser]

Mini fic, adamsapple, trans masc Adam, vampire Lucifer, dubcon

Adam stumbled down the street, drunk, tired, angry, drunk, furious, did he say drunk already? His girlfriend had dumped him, again, but this time he was pretty sure it was going to stick since she was fucking pregnant, and Adam didn't have a fucking dick. He didn't wish her well, in fact he wished her worse, before he left to get fucking trashed. Had he said fuck enough times yet?

Eventually he got kicked out of the bar, and had to go... to the next bar, before that one kicked him out too. He'd started hitting on any girl he saw, and the last place eventually kicked him out for, according to them, offering to go down on a portrait of the madam who'd ran the bar in 1889. Whatever, Adam had booze at home. So, to home he went, very slowly, trying not to trip over his feet too much.

Adam rounded a corner, and blearily blinked in realization it didn't seem familiar, he must have taken a wrong turn - then, he saw something else. A figure was collapsed on the ground, legs buckled under them, and another individual was just barely keeping their head up. Except, it didn't look like they'd caught them, it seemed more as though-

The man looked over his shoulder, back at Adam. His hair was a pale blond, and his eyes were glowing red, pupils a bright unearthly gold. Blood was dripping down his chin.

"Hey, fucker! Let them go!" Adam yelled, marching forward, never one to back down from a fight. Plus, it helped he could tell he was close to a foot taller than the guy. Adam was taller than most people, including most cis guys he met, which in Adam's mind made him the alpha male.

In a blink of an eye, Adam was slammed up against a wall, a hand around his throat, and inhuman eyes stared up at him with mild annoyance; until suddenly they widened in surprise.

"Wait, I know your scent." The figure said, sniffing the air. "Why do I know your scent..."

Adam struggled against him, it seemed insane that a tiny guy like this, who looked more like a librarian or a fucking jester, could be this strong. It wasn't just that he was drunk, this thing wasn't human.

The hand slid down, gripping into Adam's shirt to jerk his head down, until they were face to face. "You smell so..."

Adam flinched as the thing leaned in and bite hard into his neck. It was painful, more than he was expecting, but his struggling was useless. But, suddenly, pleasure began to flood through his body. It throbbed in his head, his chest, between his legs. From terror to abject ecstasy, Adam moaned, his hands no longer trying to push away, but to pull him in closer.

The man let go, before biting down again, and Adam came, legs suddenly weak. He was soaked, like he could drown a horse he was so wet. A hand pushed down the front of his pants, and very quickly coaxed him to another orgasm.

"Call me Lucifer," the man said, pulling his hand out and licking his blood off his lips before licking his fingers. "You'll be seeing me again."

In a flash, Lucifer vanished, and Adam was left with a headache, sticky pants, and the knowledge he should probably google vampires.

[frost-queen]

Who's keeping score (Reader x Theodore Nott)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia,  @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine,  @evilcr0ne, @floatlosers, @callsignwidow, @whotfskai, @freddieweasleysgf, @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Summary: [ Ask: No specific storyline just a Theodore Nott story] Okay so I came up with a cute idea of my own. Theodore and you endulge yourself in a game of being in dept as the scores keep going up till it makes it almost impossible for him to forget you.

“I just need a pair of books.” – you told your friends parting way with them. One of them waved you goodbye, the other two too invested in their rant about classes. You waved back before heading into the library. The librarian Madam Pince gave you an attentive eye. You smiled politely back at her hoping to get her off your back. You never knew what went through that woman’s mind. As quietly as you could, you ventured further passing all the rows you didn’t need. You focused on the marks on the side in alphabetic order.

Knowing you were nearing, you picked up your pace heading quickly into a row close to the back section. Turning in the row, you came to a sudden stop. A boy was sitting on the ground by the middle. A few books surrounded him as he was reading focused in the one he was holding. Swallowing nervously you knew very well who that was. Theodore Nott. He wasn’t really a groupie but still he hung around Draco Malfoy.

A part of you rather just left, but you really needed to be in this section. Taking an encouraging breath, you walked between the shelves, looking at the book spines. Softly mumbling the names, you glanced to the side knowing you were getting closer to Theodore. Somehow it made your heart beat a tat faster. Cursing in your head, of course you needed a book from the shelve right in front of Theodore. You came to a stop in front of him, glancing over your shoulder if he had noticed you. Seemingly he hadn’t cause he was nose deep in his book.

Stretching out your arm, your fingers brushed against the spine. Great now you couldn’t even reach it properly. Looking around there was no ladder cart near to give you that nudge to reach it. Sighing soft you got on the tips of your toes, grabbing for the spine. With little movements you tried to slip it out from between two books. It took some progress, but the book was slipping out. Pressing your hand firm against the books a shelf below, you kept balancing on your toes to take it out.

You couldn’t fully grab it as your eyes widened. The book tilted over as it would for sure hit you in the face. Yelping quietly you planted your feet down, looking away to limit the impact till a second hand brushed against your fingers. Looking up you saw Theodore had grabbed the book, holding it in place. He lowered his hand as you pulled your hand away from the book. He read the title briefly before handing the book over to you. – “Tha… thank you.” – you said nervously as he returned to his books. He barely sat down as Lorenzo Berkshire came in the row out of breath.

“Theo let’s go!” – Lorenzo called out as Theodore sighed soft. He picked up the book he was reading from the floor. – “Hurry up Theo! Malfoy is treating us to butter beer.” – Lorenzo added to persuade him to go faster. You looked from Lorenzo to Theodore. – “I…I uhm can put those away for you if you like?” – you suggested. Theodore turned round to you, quirking his eyebrow up. – “Even better.” – Lorenzo pitched in as he entered the row more. He took the books from the ground dropping them in your arms.

“Now let’s go Theo.” – Lorenzo tugged on his sleeve, pulling him away. Theodore placed the book he was holding carefully on top of the others. – “It’s alright.” – you reassured him with a smile. Before Theodore could say anything he got dragged away by Lorenzo. They ran past Madam Pince as she walked over to you. – “Silence in the library Miss Y/l/n.” – she warned you with a stern glance. You stared at her in disbelieve as it wasn’t even you who spoke loudly but rather Lorenzo. Of course she came over to slap you on the wrist.

Not even having the energy to protest, you simply nodded with an apology. Madam Pince left as you set the books down. They had started to weigh down. Taking the first book, you read the title and putted it away. So on you went till you had putted away all his books. You then sat down to go through your own book till it was nearly time to head to potions class.

You followed some students into the dungeons. Looking around there was no sign of your friends as you wondered if they were already inside or still needed to come. You went inside after some Slytherin girls. Professor Snape looking as sour as ever. – “Grab a potions book and sit down.” – he ordered overlooking his class.

The girls cleared your view as you spotted Theodore sitting at a table with Malfoy, Lorenzo, and Blaise. Theodore was staring at his cauldron a hand underneath his chin while Lorenzo and Malfoy were chatting and laughing. You didn’t mean to stare, but you kind of did. Theodore turned his head catching you stare. Widening your eyes, you quickly turned around heading for the cabinet where the potion books laid.

You sought out a nice pair as most of them had been damaged from old age. You were about to take a book when someone snatched right from underneath your nose. Already half bummed out you looked around to get your hands on another half decent copy till you noticed the book being shoved to you. Surprised you looked up to the side, seeing who was giving you the book. Panicking a bit it was Theodore Nott. – “Thank you for before.” – he said poking the book at you. – “Oh… no…no worries.” – you answered shyly. – “Now we’re even.” – you chuckled as he frowned.

“You know… with you stopping that book and me putting your books away.” – you specified seeing him crack a tiny smile. – “Does this make it two?” – he said still holding the book out for you. – “Y/n.” – you blurted out wanting him to know your name for some reason. – “I know.” – he responded placing the book in your hand. He then returned to his table, greeted by curious glances from his friends.

Lorenzo immediately joined his side wanting details about who you were. You were daydreaming a bit till a voice cleared his throat behind you. Shrieking soft it was Snape that had come to stand behind you. – “Your seat Miss Y/l/n.” – he spoke as you hurried to your seat. Cauldrons were bubbling as you could make out Theodore’s figure faintly through the fog coming from your cauldron. He was ever so focused on his potion.

Tossing in ingredients and stirring rightly. Professor Snape came to his table, congratulating him for his excellent skills. You clapped along a few students to praise the compliment. Professor Snape continued his round eventually stopping at your cauldron. You gave him a smile as he peered inside your cauldron. He pulled up his nose, clearly not impressed by your skills.

Sighing loud it was a downer as you didn’t feel like finishing it anymore knowing it would be not well enough. Resting your chin against your hand, you gave up. Mindlessly you looked around till you saw Theodore look your way. He held up an ingredient pointing subtly at it. Furrowing your brows you weren’t sure if wanted to say something to you. He kept pointing at it gesturing with his eyes to take the hint.

You looked around your table for anything that looked the same. Grabbing a few black sticks, you held it up questionable. Theodore nodded from afar motioning to the cauldron. You hesitantly threw it in the cauldron watching the reaction. Eyes widening as the color changed. Professor Snape rounded your table again. The color caught his eye as he peered inside. You waited anxiously for his reply. He hummed deep that sounded like better, but not perfect yet.

You smiled showing your thumbs up to Theodore as a thank you. He smiled back at you before his attention got drawn to Lorenzo speaking loudly. You left potions class with some satisfaction. You didn’t completely fall, that was a good start. Catching up with your friends you went towards your next class. The four of you heard the loud clock making you frantically pick up your pace to be in time. Professor Flitwick was one of punctuality. The four of you started running up the changing stairs knowing you had about five more minutes till Professor Flitwick would start his lesson.

Out of breath you arrived at the classroom. Huffing loud, you were glad you had made it. Professor Flitwick was still sorting his books, standing with his back to the students. You were about to enter as your friends had already gone inside as you saw two boys run over in a haste. They were so out of breath as you knew they would be late. Slightly your eyes widened seeing it was Theodore and Lorenzo. Professor Flitwick was about to turn around and speak to the class as you panicked.

Pulling out your wand, you whispered with a flick of your wrist. The stack of books toggled over as Professor Flitwick sighed loud. He bend down to pick them up and stack them again as he needed them to stand up on. You motioned to Lorenzo and Theodore to hurry up in the doorway. Lorenzo launched himself inside as you grabbed Theodore by the sleeve, pulling him inside just in time. – “Two to three.” – you told him with a wink. Theodore who was still catching his breath frowned.

“Are… are you keeping score Y/n Y/l/m?” – he asked with a smile. – “Maybe.” – you answered following him the seats. Lorenzo pulled Theodore with him as you sat with your friends, just in time as Professor Flitwick was ready. You were kind of glad he was sitting behind you so you wouldn’t be distracted by him. You thought yourself so bold for keeping indeed score of favors. Theodore had done you three favors already as you were at two. The competitive side in you wanted to make it even.

You kept thinking about ways to make it even that you hardly paid attention in class. You were so drifted off that you got startled by Professor Flitwick calling out your name. – “Miss Y/l/n.” – he said looking curious over at you. – “Yes Professor.” – you replied loud straightening your back. – “The question… I’d like you to answer it.” – he spoke as you panicked.

You hadn’t heard any question at all. What would you even say. The way the professor was looking at you made you feel ashamed for not listening. – “The answer… well… the answer to your question…is…” – you started to stall. You still weren’t sure what to answer till you heard someone whisper the answer to you from behind. Without even thinking if it was even right you repeated the answer out loud. – “Oh wonderful miss Y/l/n.” – Professor Flitwick complimented. – “Now…” – he started turning a bit round to demonstrate.

You looked over your shoulder to whoever whispered you the answer. Theodore was smirking holding three fingers up. He flipped his hand showing off four fingers with a wink. You rolled your eyes at how smug he looked. Lorenzo stared confused between the two of you, trying to figure out what was going on. Class ended as you followed your friends back to the common room. The next day you were walking the open corridors surrounding the courtyard. You made your way over to the grass fields behind it.

Immediately you spotted Theodore leaning against a tree. Lorenzo laying on the bench, one knee up as Blaise sitting down on the grass, leaning against the stone bench Lorenzo laid on. Malfoy no where to be seen. You noticed how indecent their clothing was. Ties hanging loose. Their shirt hanging out of their pants, sticking underneath their sweater. In the distance you spotted Professor McGonagall knowing if she saw it, she’s scold them for wearing their school uniform with no respect.

Pulling out your wand, you flicked it at Theodore. Theodore got startled as his tie knotted around his neck and his shirt got tugged in. Not a moment later passed Professor McGonagall past. She cleared her throat loud. – “Mister Berkshire and Zambini!” – she called out with a stern look. Lorenzo shot up as Blaise jumped up. – “That will cost you five points each.” – she pointed with her scroll at their uniform. She then took a look at Theodore. – “You should take an example from Mister Nott.” – she said waiting for Lorenzo and Blaise to do their uniform right.

Lorenzo puffed loud once she had left. – “Unfair that witch is just out to get us.” – Lorenzo grunted out. Theodore was relieved that he had not been caught but who… He looked around spotting you by the large tree. You wiggled three fingers at him, pointing out the score. Theodore laughed loud making Lorenzo nudge him thinking he was laughing him out. By the end of the week the score was around six for Theodore and seven for you.

You were gleaming with proud to be on the winning side. Walking by yourself the fourth floor with a constant smile on your face. – “Y/n!” – you suddenly heard making you pause. Theodore came running over. He grabbed your arm, pushing you against the wall, coming to stand before you so you couldn’t escape him. – “Why are you making it impossible for me to forget you.” – he asked staring down on you. – “Maybe you shouldn’t.” – you responded feeling yourself drawn to him. Theodore smirked pressing a hand above your head to the wall.

“I won’t stop till I win.” – you told him. Theodore licked his lips briefly, tilting your chin up by his thumb. – “I’m not backing down.” – he answered leaning in closer. – “Good.” – you whispered drawing closer to him. His eyes flashed from your eyes to your lips, taking them in attentively. – “Go on… kiss me.” – you said wanting him to.

Theodore smiled. – “Is that a favor Y/n?” – he answered. – “I’ll take that as a point.” – he added as you grabbed a hold of his shirt. – “Do what you want.” – you replied not caring if the score was even now. You just wanted his lips on yours. Theodore’s hand slid up your cheek, cherishing it as he drew your lips nearer to his. – “Even.” – he whispered before pressing his lips against you.

---------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[akesthe]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓

This character is a collaboration between @modersajta and I.

GN Reader • SFW • Drugging • Kidnapping

You go to the university library every Monday to pick up books for your studies. Today, you've come to the library to choose a book for your upcoming English project. The afternoon sun is warm, and the surrounding trees provide the relief of shade. You slow down as you approach the doors of the building. When you enter you are greeted by the ding of a bell, and you walk towards the back of the library. Now at the classic literature section, you pick up a novel of your choice.

You find a place to sit and read, and set your bag next to your seat. Opening the book, you prepare to take notes. A few pages in, you realize you are having difficulty understanding the story. The language is incredibly hard to read. Sighing, you close your book and look around, people are bustling around the library, it's quite busy at this time of day. Yellow light filters through the windows and paints the carpet a warm orange. Focus. Once again, you try to comprehend your novel.

Conveniently, your librarian friend rounds the corner and greets you, tall and lanky, dressed in his usual sweater and trousers. You recently met him a few weeks ago when searching for a book. Since then, he's been extremely helpful and attentive to you. He abandons his cart of books as he walks up to where you're seated.

"Hello, I'm glad to see you again. What are you reading?"

You give him the name of the novel and explain that you are taking notes for your English project this week.

"Oh! I've read that one before. I could help, if you don't mind!"

He looks at the ground as he waits for your response. He has always seemed very nervous, but this time it makes you giggle. You invite him to sit with you, and he takes the seat beside you. You read through the novel together, he explains the plot and helps you take notes. He seems to be getting closer to you as time passes, but you brush it off. After a while, your focus begins to waver. You look at the time and realize how late it's gotten.

"Hey, it's getting late I should probably get go-"

He quickly interjects,

"Would you like a coffee? I can go grab us both one from the break room!"

It was unlike him to interrupt you so suddenly, he almost seems to be in a rush. Nevertheless, you accept his offer. Coffee sounds nice, especially on a cold night like tonight. While the librarian is gone, you glance out the windows. It has gotten dark outside, the library should be closing soon. You observe that the library is now empty, and dead quiet.

You can feel the pressure of eyes on you, turning around you see the man returning with two cups of coffee. Thanking him, you begin to drink. It's exactly how you like! Surprised, you ask him how he knew.

"Just a lucky guess hahaa"

His laugh sounds nervous, more nervous than usual. He helps you organize the last of your notes into a short summary; watching you as you drink, until you eventually finish your cup.

"Thank you so much for the help today! I really should be going now though."

You start to gather your things and grab your keys out of your bag.

"Wait! It's time for close, but I've totally forgotten to put these books away! Could you please help me?"

He looks almost desperate. You agree to help, he's spent so much of his time helping you. He looks strangely excited. Ecstatic even. As you stand up, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You're so tired. Your eyelids feel heavy, and they start to drop under the pressure of sleep. His gaze is intense, he stares at you with wide eyes.

"Are you ok?"

Everything goes dark.

You wake up, and slowly peel your eyes open. You are in an unfamiliar room, the lighting is dim, enough so that it is difficult to see ahead of you. The only source of light being a small overhead lamp. The room is scarcely decorated, containing just a mattress and a closet. You try to stand, only to realize that your arms and legs are bound to the chair you're sitting in. You struggle, but only succeed in rocking the chair and making a horrible screeching noise against the floor. You try to scream, but your mouth is covered by some kind of cloth. You hear shuffling, and a door opens. A bright light is turned on, you squint while your eyes adjust. You then see your librarian standing before you.

"You're awake!"

He exclaims with excitement. You stare at him with fear and confusion.

"I know you must be confused, I'm sorry"

He pauses before speaking again.

"I put you to sleep and brought you here. I drugged your coffee, but only because I didn't want to have to inject you or hurt you to transport you here! I even took care to make sure the security cameras weren't working today, so that nobody knows where you are."

He observes your expression and continues to speak.

"This is your new home, and this is the room you'll be living in."

Again, you begin to struggle. He takes notice and removes your gag. You confront him about his behavior and question his motives.

"I am in love with you. Ever since I met you I have been enamoured with you. I fell for you after you joined our highschool book club. You always defended me, you were my savior. I've been watching you for a long time. I became a librarian just for the chance to find you again."

Tears run down your face, and he kneels down to wipe them off for you. He begins to speak softer now.

"You might not understand it now, but you belong with me. I will worship you like the god you are."

You cannot escape.

"Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

[ciwzing]

⎯ 💭 notes !! modern au (highschool au)

grumpy nerd × flirty bastard is my fav troupe !!

gn reader × g! satoru

satoru likes you

and satoru is no quite person, he's a loudmouth but you'd expect for a person to be discreet about their feelings about another, but satoru isn't just any normal person⎯ and god!! does he make it his job to let not just you but other people know!

you can't count how much your classmates fail to hide their snickers and giggles when satoru pulls another stant to make you swoon, not even just your classmates but even worse, your teachers!

failing to hide your frown when the teacher partner you up once again with him for the whole class to giggle again and whistle coming from a bunch of guys.

now, satoru doesn't fail to again annoy you "hey cutie, what got you so frowny hm? the day hasn't started yet" he said in a singsong voice, stealing the seat beside you, pushing his desk to touch yours and carry his chair to sit next to you, shoulders touching.

and you've been in the opposite side of satoru's antics that you know putting distance between you will make him more persistent to get something from you.

rejections after rejections it seems like this guy just can't take a hint, at first you tried to be nice but at this point you think he's just doing this to purposely make you piss⎯

the edge of your lips twitch as you fight to make a remark, satoru tried to stop a wide grin to make its way on his face, god how can he resist you, he can't! you're just so adorable, the glasses resting on your face, the way your hair framed you face, the way you wear your uniform! and how could he forget the way you talk to him just make him so giddy..

he's no masochist but damn your nasty tone, and the way you talk to him just gets him going everytime.

"y/n, i like you, a lot"

"I don't, go bother someone else"

oh he's fallen in deep, he rest his face on his arms that was resting on his desk, hiding the red that paints his face, biting on his lip to stop his lips from stretching to a wide sheepish smile.

"piss off gojo, im busy"

"and how do you know it's me? I'm coming from behind you" Satoru said, his lanky tall figure's shadow looming over your sitting figure.

"your big ass feet isn't that quiet as much as you think it is" you scoff, placing your book on your table as your peace has now once again been disrupted by none other than gojo.

"well you know what they say about people who have big feet" he said with a wink, you only gave him look for him to shut up and kept his mouth in a thin line.

"what chu' reading?" he asked, turning the chair so he can rest his chin on the top rail of the chair, sitting across from you, staying quiet you only pulled the book back up to cover your face and the cover to be expose.

you hear him chuckle before his pointer finger finds its way on top of the book to push it down and reveal your frowning face to him. "c'mon don't cover that pretty face from me"

......

"y/n-"

"gojo" you cut him off, looking up from your book knowing full well what words are gonna come spurting out his lips.

"gojo don't-"

"i like you.."

"why can't you give me a chance?" he almost whined as he sprawled his upper figure on the round table you hold back an eye roll.

"why can't you take a rejection?" his lips and open and closes trying to form words before he ultimately decided to shut up, standing up from his seat to walk away and you thought that'd be the last you'll hear from him.

but it was gojo you were talking about he again proven you wrong after seeing him in the school gate seemingly waiting for someone, the school dismissals was hours ago with you staying in school to stay in the library until the librarian needed to kick you out because the school was closing and you didn't have any plan to leave anytime soon.

5:34 it read on your watch, the sun has nearly settled down on the clouds you wonder just how long he had been standing there, you guessed since dismissal from how much he shifts one foot to another and the way he frantically look at his phone.

walking the other way while he was busy fiddling with the keychain of his phone, it didn't took long when you hear footsteps just right behind you, scoffing you walk faster but it was proven useless when just a few strides from his long legs and big steps he had catch up to you.

"gojo-"

"one chance.."

"one chane y/n, that's the only thing I'll be asking, then... I'll really go away but at least give me once chance to prove you wrong" he said determined, his brows furrowed, you thought you never seen his eyes look so intense before which is something when his eyes are the brightest of blue. before you could utter a response back he cutted you off by explaining himself.

"i know you might think that my constant confession to you is a joke but I have never been so sure about something, someone" you see his eyes frantically scan yours, looking for something, anything, a sign, an answer.

"i like you, y/n.."

"okay.."

"what?"

you frowned, you don't really like it when people make you repeat your words.

"are you deaf? I said okay" you watch as his eyes shine brighter than it already is, a wide grin making its way immediately to his face before he closes his distance between you to engulf your figure in a hug, swaying side to side.

"gojo let go-"

"oh shush, I've veen chasing you for how many years let a man be happy"

"I'm only giving you one chance"

"And that's enough for me to prove you wrong" Biting the inside of your cheek to hide the smile you've been trying to hide, letting him hug you as he pleases.

Gojo Satoru is stupid, so stupid that ti'll now he hasn't realised you also harbour the same feelings for him and only waited for a proper confession.