#And then he started telling me how he’s only 23 and how he can sleep w any woman he wants and basically feels like he’s settling??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devildomwriter · 1 year

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Mammon Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Mammon states that he sleeps in the nude

2. Mammon despises witches and was nearly chopped into pieces by them once but Lucifer rescued him (although Lucifer was also the one to recommend they cut him into pieces)

3. When Levi tried attacking Mammon in his sleep, before he could even bring his foot down on Mammon, Mammon had him in a headlock

4. Mammon has a habit of stripping while drunk

5. Mammon does not like it when bath’s smell like flowers

6. Mammon’s dream for the future is having a carefree and playful life

7. Mammon starts his baths by washing his head

8. Mammon’s fear of ghosts and monsters originates a little after a year of living in the Devildom when he is possessed by a ghost

9. Mammon hates a Devildom song called “Corpse Rock”

10. Karasu refers to Mammon as noodle-boy

11. In earlier chats and Devilgrams Mammon is said to be a cat person, in later stories he is said to be a dog person, but his birthday information card again states he is more of a cat person

12. Mammon’s motto is “Money will makes the Devil turn millstones.”

13. Mammon’s daily activity is procrastinating in MC’s room

14. Mammon is obsessed with his shades and when he accidentally breaks them he’s devastated

15. According to Beelzebub, Mammon is bad at cooking and doesn’t make good peanut butter sandwiches

16. When Belphie and Beel helped Mammon pick out his human world outfit, he was so touched he bought them their human world clothes

17. Mammon states if the Devildom disappeared tomorrow he’d borrow as much money as he wanted to spend and not have to pay any of it back

18. Mammon’s favorite food in hell is Soy Sauce flavored cup ramen

19. In a love survey in B’s log, Mammin is said to be the active one pursuing love

20. Mammon is said to attract the “sassy and outgoing” types

21. The first thing Mammon does in the morning is check his stocks

22. In the love survey in B’s log when asked if he’d want to be bound by or bind his lover his response was “what do you want me to do? What did you say? Idiot!”

23. Mammon’s car is a Demonio 666 Lexura. The specific type was very rare and (unbeknownst to him originally) only with Lucifer and Diavolo’s help was he able to get it

24. Mammon easily forgets anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

25. Mammon is unable to express himself frankly

26. Mammon likes R&B music

27. Mammon is not a morning demon

28. One of the first things in the game said about Mammon by his brothers is that he’s a masochist

29. The results of a demon brain scanning app showed that Mammon’s thoughts are 90% money

30. Mammon’s worst RAD subject is Hexes and Curses

31. Mammon became Lucifer’s attendant in the Celestial Realm before Leviathan had even been born

32. Mammon was once almost roasted alive by hellfire

33. Mammon is a very bad liar and often admits exactly what he did when explaining that’s not what he did

34. Mammon was almost the one to tame Cerberus but Lucifer rushed in as he was about to confront the dog

35. Mammon is extremely protective of his little brothers

36. When forced to be honest, Mammon admits how much he admires and respects Lucifer

37. When Lucifer has a bad day, Mammon will bring him a drink and sandwich without being asked

38. Mammon was almost kicked out of the celestial realm thousands of years before the fall until Lucifer got through to him

39. Besides the people who were told what Simeon was going through in season 4, Mammon was the first one to notice something was wrong with him

40. Once Mammon was punished by Lucifer by being tickled until he laughed so hard he was humiliated

41. Mammon was given a serum with unknown results that caused him to tell MC he wanted to do many explicit things with them

42. Even Michael was unable to handle Mammon as an angel

43. Mammon is so fast that not even Diavolo and Lucifer can catch up to him

44. It’s been mentioned multiple times that Mammon uses crows as familiars

45. When Lucifer cannot trust Diavolo, he turns to Mammon

46. Mammon once called up Simeon to ask about significant lines in the TSL series so he could successfully hack into Leviathan’s akuzon account

47. Levi and Mammon sometimes perform standup comedy

48. When Mammon tried making a cake for Lucifer on his birthday in the Celestial Realm, he accidentally destroyed the kitchen, infuriating Michael

49. Mammon works as a model occasionally

50. In lesson 11 of the game Mammon claims he is well over 5,000 years old

51. In the celestial realm Mammon would often watch over the younger angels

52. Mammon once tried selling bird feathers to the lesser angels, claiming they were seraph feathers

53. In the celestial realm, Mammon once used the lesser angels to play a game of life-size chess

54. Mammon is said to have been the one who rallied and encouraged the angels in the Celestial war

55. Unlike his brothers, Mammon doesn’t often lose control of his powers

56. Whenever Mammon comes up with solutions to a crisis, they usually make things worse

57. Mammon struggles with math unless he thinks about it as calculating money

58. Mammon loves pandas because they’re profitable

59. Mammon always lets his brothers know about sales and deals going on

60. Mammon is the one who told Lucifer to always have pride and not regret his decision about the war

61. Mammon was cursed to speak like a cat during season 4 and Satan was unable to leave his side even getting Mammon to play with cat toys.

62. The first time Mammon lost control of his powers and transformed into a demon in the game is when he misunderstood a conversation between Levi and MC and assumed they had “relations”

63. Mammon is one of the only people who will indulge Asmodeus and watch his one-man fashion shows

64. When Mammon put too many meals on Satan’s tab, Satan called up Solomon and told him Mammon wanted to try his new recipe

65. Mammon has kidnapped MC multiple times

66. Mammon sometimes goes clubbing with Asmo after part time jobs

67. After Mammon sold all of their silverware he was fired from Ristorante Six

68. Mammon is sometimes referred to as MC’s pet

69. Mammon continues to insist he’s MC’s master not the other way around

70. Mammon sees Luke as his little brother

71. Student council members used to oversee detention until Mammon kept getting detention himself

72. Mammon once accidentally cast a spell on himself that made him burst into song

73. Mammon once accidentally turned himself into a dog

74. Mammon accidentally cursed himself and became extremely small. He was scared of how Beel was looking at him

75. When Mammon made the Miss’em dolls he became extremely wealthy but later blew it all on gambling

76. Mammon is too scared to watch horror movies alone and asks Lucifer to watch them with him

77. Mammon once attacked Lucifer with a three-prong pitch fork when he embarrassed him

78. Mammon has cried from fear of Simeon multiple times

79. Mammon was unable to even pretend to break up with MC

80. Mammon is one of the reasons you need a permit to get to the human world rather than do so freely

81. Mammon got a Mohawk once but his brothers teased him so much he immediately got rid of it

82. Mammon loves the Devildom version of Harry Potter

83. Mammon often threatens lesser/younger demons to hand over all their money

84. Mammon once stopped a bank robbery and demanded the money as compensation

85. Mammon accidentally cut down a Christmas tree gifted to Lucifer from Diavolo

86. Mammon was tricked by Lucifer to gamble against everyone he’d ever screwed over all at once

87. Mammon calls going to the horse races “seeing the horsies” to try and convince MC to tag along

88. When he was Lucifer’s attendant, Mammon sought for a rare Crystal Lily flower to gift him but got lost and Lucifer had to come find him

89. Mammon used Serenity Manor as collateral in gambling as soon as he got to the human world, almost forcing everyone to go right back to the Devildom

90. When coming up with proposal’s Mammon forced Simeon, Solomon, and Luke to participate in a flash mob

91. Mammon has a blood oath with MC and Leviathan

92. Mammon accidentally won Henry 1.0 while trying his first Devildom ice cream. He was nearly eaten.

93. Mammon owns an AK-47 after winning it over in a game against Leviathan

94. Mammon fees guilty that he didn’t have a grand reason to follow Lucifer to hell rather than just feeling like it

95. Mammon once lost a bet to a bunch of rabbits

96. Mammon prefers spicy foods to sweets

97. Mammon extorted Satan for 50,000 Grimm in exchange for throwing him a baseball

98. Mammon’s highest known rank in the celestial realm within the game is a Throne

99. When Mammon was turned into a Test Name box he got used to it immediately, disappointing Beelzebub

100. Mammon died in season 4 for a few minutes but was brought back by Barbatos

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me fun facts #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus

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steddiejudas · 10 months

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STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23

prompt: modern au

Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.

The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.

“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.

“Robin!!”

A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”

“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”

The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.

“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.

The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”

“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”

“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”

“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”

He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:

“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”

Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?

“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”

“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.

It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.

He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.

But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.

“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.

Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.

“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”

“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.

“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”

“With me, silly.”

“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”

“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.

It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.

“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to

feed you and nothing. else.”

Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.

Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.

Now is NOT the time.

They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.

“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”

No answer comes.

“Steve?”

Nothing.

Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.

It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.

When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.

He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.

Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.

It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.

[463-291-8275]: Thanks.

Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.

[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?

[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night

Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.

[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that

Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?

Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie

He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry

[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!

[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.

[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night

Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.

[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #modern au #wowza can you believe i haven’t done a daily prompt in over a month #this one just spoke to me idk

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babydollmarauders · 11 months

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OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

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subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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dalamjisung · 30 days

Text

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 2: He's not yours to keep

genre: more angst than fluff, but I swear fluff is coming up next!

word count: 5562

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you are trying to make sense of all this mess, but it's time to learn that, sometimes, things are just messy and chaotic and you have to learn to look for the silver linings.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: I am absolutely over the moon with the response I've gotten on this series and I'm really thankful for all the love and support <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

You don’t usually dream.

Well, actually, if you tell Spencer that, he will say that you’re wrong– you do dream, you just don’t remember it. It’s common, not really recalling the scenes your brain conjure, Spencer would say; it can be due to a series of factors including high levels of stress and poor sleep. He would then tell you to stay home for a day, read a good book, and drink one of his fancy teas Penelope got for him a long time ago.

But the thing is, Spencer can’t really tell you any of it.

Not when you seem to be avoiding him even inside his own home.

It starts after you wake up still in his armchair, feeling exhausted and disgustingly sticky, you finally have a couple of moments to yourself. Spencer is still sleeping, and you’re actually surprised to see him stretched out on the couch– his tie is throw on his coffee table, the purple colour suddenly too bright in the dim apartment, but otherwise, still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. You don’t understand why he didn’t change into pyjamas, but then again, you don’t understand much of anything right now.

So you go through the facts.

One by one, you list them in your mind– and little by little it dawns on you just how bad this really is. It’s hard, conceptualising that this is reality; that you really do have a psychopath targeting you. It’s the kind of thing that you only saw in those TV shows you loved to binge on late night, the kind of thing you read on the newspaper, happening to other people, but never really you. Except, it is happening to you, and you are not sure what to do next. Do you just sit and wait for her to make a move? Do you continue to live your life normally? How? How are you supposed to ignore the fact that a, as Agent Hotchner had described her, ‘prolific serial killer’ might know who are?

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, head falling in your hands. The watch on your wrist, an old, analogue thing your mom had given you before you left New York, is pointing to a time you would never have been awake before. 5:23 in the morning. The sun is not even up yet and you have hours before you have to open the store, but then again, you have to clean the mess that was left behind due to your rushed departure from it. You wince, disgusted at the thought of having to clean old vomit from the floor, and disgusted with the bitter taste it left behind. Right now, you are a shell of a human being and you need to get yourself back together.

You follow a familiar routine of recovery. It’s something you’ve done before and something you will surely have to do again, and it all starts with a simple list.

Firstly, you need to get up. You need to stretch your legs, throw them to the side, and stand. You need to walk, remind your self that you can still make your own path even if it’s only to the bathroom down the hall.

Then, you need to brush your teeth. The bitter taste stuck to your mouth makes you wince with memories that you want to bury.

Showering would be your third step, but this is not your home. This is not your space, and these are not your things.

A pettier side of you, one that is bothered and angry and irritated in a superficial level, wants to march back out to the living room, as loudly as you can, and shake Spencer away. You want to wake him up at the crack of dawn and make him share your torment, because in some level, even if you try to push against it, you blame him. Deep inside, you know that there is a big difference between the two– between blaming him and it being his fault. One is purposeful, conscious; it’s a decision you take and lay on his head. If you blame him, you commit yourself to hate him. The latter, however, is a fact. It’s irrefutable and immutable as the fact that you need air to live. It is his fault, but it was not his goal.

“He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault,” You whisper to yourself, pushing yourself off the sink to try and figure out his shower. It is his house, that’s a fact. But you also deserve a nice, warm shower, and that is another fact. He pushed you to come stay with him, so you need to also push yourself to feel comfortable in this space that feels so foreign to your senses. “He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault.”

The words become your mantra. He didn’t mean it, but it’s still his fault. Somewhere in you, you know you have what it takes to forgive, but you just don’t have what it’s needed to forget. By repeating those words, you allow your brain to slowly process this situation as what it is– something that happened because of him, but not by him. As much as you want someone to blame, someone to scream at, Spencer Reid just isn’t that person.

It takes you a moment to realise you don’t really have a towel or any of your products here, and using Spencer’s shampoo just feels… odd. Like an invasion of his space almost. “Oh thank god for you, Spencer,” You sighed, happy to see the pairing of shampoo and conditioner sitting perfectly on the corner. His hair had been one of the first things you noticed about him, all chestnut and shaggy and longish, but you are aware that not every man knows the basic of self-care. There is something about the way his smell takes over the bathroom, floating with the evaporation of the warm water hitting your skin, makes you smile. You feel closer to Spencer than you’ve ever been, and that is when your sense of danger hits. Your heart starts speeding, and your breathing is suddenly really shallow, and you’re trying to come out of the shower, to breathe in cold air, but all you get is humid mist and you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe at all, you can’t–

“Spencer!” You gasp, eyes wide in desperation once your legs feel like they might just give out. Scrambling to hold yourself up, your hands knock over some things in the counter, making more noise on top of the running shower. “SPENCER!”

“What? What? What– oh my god,” The door slams against the wall and back, almost hitting him on the side when he crouched down next to your naked, curled up body. It’s quite unnatural for you to witness, him jumping into action so fast, like he is trained to make these decisions in a split second. But then you remember that he actually is trained to make these quick choices– like grabbing the towel before anything else, covering you without a single quip about your nakedness; like sitting you up and putting your back against the wall; like turning off the shower and sitting back down right next to you, breathing deeply and loudly. It’s unconscious, how you let your breathing fall in line with his, and it takes a moment to realise he’s doing this on purpose. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No,” You whisper, shaking from either the cold or the nerves or both. There are goosebumps all over your legs, the towel not covering you much from the top of your thighs down. “Spencer, I’m not okay. I’m… Until yesterday, you were just the adorable guy who shared my love for books. Y-You’d come into the store smiling and we’d talk and talk and– and now I have a serial killer possibly tracking me. How am I supposed to be okay? I’m so scared… oh god, I’m so scared, Spencer…” The one thing you are proud, amidst your utter embarrassment, is that you are not crying anymore. You still sound a bit rough, throat tired and hurting, and there is no energy left in you and he can hear that, you know he can, because when your voice echoes in the silent bathroom, kicking from wall to wall, you hear it too– the exhaustion and the numbness and the emptiness left behind.

“I-I’m still that guy,” He stutters, head falling down in shame but voice still twinged with something resembling hope. “I love books. I love talking to you about books, I love going to your store first thing in the morning. I’m still this guy, I just… I just happen to work for the FBI.”

“Yeah, but I… I think that after having my life turned upside down because of a serial killer who has a crush on you, I’m just not that same girl.”

That is the last time you talk to him that day.

—————————————

Actually, that was the last time you talked to him that entire week.

After he dropped you at the store that day and you were forced to face the embarrassing remnants of your lowest moment in life, moping old vomit from the floor, that feeling of turmoil in your chest died down. It settled. And it hardened.

He tried making conversation on the walk back to his, but you’re clearly not up for it, so his voice slowed down, getting lower and lower, until it stopped altogether. This time, you shower before bed and make a beeline to the armchair again, letting Spencer’s begs and pleas for you to sleep on the bed fall in deft ears.

For five days, you two don’t talk.

It’s a dance of chaos, how you step around each other at the apartment, and seeing him biting his words back or catching a glimpse of the bags under his eyes makes you feel guilty; of course it does. But you know that you can’t help him right now. Even if you were to forgive him, to force your mercy onto the situation, it wouldn’t be genuine. It would give him a false sense of relief while you’d forever be uncomfortable next to him, and you don’t want that. You don’t want to feel on edge next to Spencer, you don’t want to feel nauseous and scared when you’re with him. You want to talk about books and coffee and favourite places to order take out from. Instead, all you get to do is talk about her.

It would be a lie to say you don’t feel slightly jealous with the way that his mind seems to be so wrapped around Cat Adams. The imposed talking ban is hard on you both, that much you know, but the more Spencer let it happen, the more he let it stretch out and continue, the more you feel like maybe he doesn’t care that much. Maybe what is hard for him is the awkward tension trapped in his own apartment, rather than the pain of seeing each other so close yet not being able to laugh like you used to. And you know– you know how ridiculous your thought are, how childish you’re acting, but you can’t really blame yourself for being so on edge lately, not when your emotions are so zip and zapping through your body like thunder and lightening.

There are exceptions, though. In this case three exceptions, three moments in a day in which he brakes the ban, and you, for once, allow yourself some weakness.

“Good morning,” Is moment one. He says that every day, when he blinks himself awake on the couch. Ever since you’ve been there, a total of six days now, Spencer has slept on the couch, right next to the armchair you’ve claimed as your own. For these, you meet his eyes and nod, as if saying same to you.

Breakfast is quiet. He makes coffee and you make eggs, because despite you being there under forced circumstances, you are not going to be ungrateful and so you pay him back by getting groceries and cooking most meals. Which leads you to exception number two– the moment when he drops you at the bookstore.

You two walk there at 8 and he’s gone by 8:07, giving you enough time to mumble a “Be safe,” and give him his lunch for the day. He tried telling you that you didn’t have to cook for him, but you don’t really listen. As pathetic as it seems, this is the one way you’ve found to keep what you two had before, alive.

The third exception is the one that truly breaks your heart, again and again. It’s when he gets home, and he looks exhausted, and his hands fidget with the files he holds close to his chest. You are the first thing he looks for, and you almost melt at the way his shoulders visibly relax when he spots you– always ready for bed, always in the armchair. He stopped trying to come get you at the bookstore at night once you’ve agreed to let the officers walk you home. The spare key he added to your keychain should hold a bigger meaning than it does, though it feels like it does hold a bigger weight. A means to an end, you tell yourself every time you unlock his front door. This is just a means to an end. “Thank you,” he will then say, before he even moves to the kitchen to see whatever it was on the plate you had made and set in the microwave for him. “And good night.” By then, you’re already semi-asleep and you don’t really say anything.

You never thought you would miss these forbidden exceptions when they’re gone.

You know that travel is a big part of Spencer’s job, but with all that is going on, you never really considered the fact that he might need to leave for a few days. At least not until he calls you, right before you lock the store. The irregularity of it all has you scrambling to pick it up. “Spencer?” You barely whisper, voice cracking in half as little by little, you freeze up. The sensation is like ice running through your veins, burning it’s way to your heart until it makes it stop. “Spencer? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” He quickly answers, voice rushed in a way that makes you relax. He always talks fast and you find it incredibly endearing, even during these times apart. “I’m okay, it’s okay. I’m calling because we got a case.”

“Uh, okay?”

“Y/N, that means they need us in Ohio. Today.” He seems almost hesitant to tell you he needs to leave the state.

And you are as hesitant to accept it. “Oh,” You mumble, suddenly needing to making sure the officer assigned to you is still outside and ready to go. “Okay. Do… Do you need clothes or something?”

Spencer’s chuckle almost makes it all okay. Almost. “No, thank you. I just– I want you to be comfortable, okay? Feel free to sleep in my bed and do anything you want to do, I don’t mind! Feel at home! Just… be comfortable.”

For a second you nod, forgetting he can’t see you right now. “Okay. Thank you.”

“And Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You started biting your nails when you were twelve and middle school was kicking your ass. To this day, right now, you still bite them when you’re nervous.

“It’s good hearing your voice.”

Going home and knowing he won’t be there is not as comforting as you thought it could be. The two of you are not speaking and the constant walking on egg shells does get tiring, so you try to rationalise this as something that is just not that bad. Maybe Spencer going on his mysterious trips is not that bad anymore. Before, your curiosity was your downfall– you worried he had gotten sick or worse. However, you don’t think knowing the truth is much better. The nature of his job is incredibly dangerous, and you don’t even know much about it. Now, you still worry, that much hasn’t changed. What has changed, though, is that getting sick would be considered lucky. Right now, you worried about the ‘or worse’.

Your mom’s voice fills the empty space for a while. She texted you a couple of days ago and you just now got around to calling. “Sweetheart, how do we switch to video again? I want to see your face.” Alarm bells sound off in your mind and you immediately shut down the idea. “Sorry mom, I can’t right now. I’ll video call you tomorrow, okay? I’m cooking dinner right now.” Her worry is that of a mother, comforting like a blanket and familiar like a home. It is not, though, the worry you want.

For obvious reasons, you don’t tell her what’s going on, much rather preferring to tell her about the mundane things that keep you going. “And I sold out of the book!” You say, a short-lived excitement running through you. “It’s quite exciting, mom– since I opened the shop I have never sold out of anything! This is a first!”

“That’s amazing, sweetie!” She says, and you can’t help but wonder how Spencer would’ve reacted to the news if he was there. It’s only then that you realise you’re halfway through making him a plate for when he comes home, except he won’t be back until the case is complete and you gulp, too aware of the common noises you hear around you.

This is when you realise how much you miss you Spencer. And how much, even if unconsciously, he makes you feel comfortable and safe. You thought it was the apartment, but now, by yourself, laying on the armchair yet again, you feel vulnerable and exposed. Footsteps can be heard from time to time, neighbours getting home or leaving for the night, and every time, without a fault, you hold your breath and wait. Maybe the door will open and she will be there, or maybe it will be another delivery. God, it could be anything– a letter, flowers, another box. Knowing that Cat Adams had such easy access to Spencer’s apartment is enough to get you up and running to his room.

Green. The walls are green, muted and cozy, and you smile even when your eyes sting with tears. There is a hole in your heart right now and it’s Spencer shaped. “God,” You groan, rubbing your tears clean so aggressively that it hurts. “When did things get so fucked up?”

There’s no real answer to that, and you if you think any longer about this, your brain might just implode. For now, all you need is to sleep, but that won’t happen for a while; not with the way your heart speeds up at every crackle coming from his old, metal heather. Still, the chill air of Autumn seeps in through the walls, and you shiver. I want you to be comfortable, Spencer had said before leaving, and you might be crossing some boundaries right now, but you need him close to feel comfortable. You might not be able to get him, but the next best thing you have right now is one of his sweaters, and you have no qualms about opening his wardrobe and grabbing the first thing you find. Ironically enough, it’s an FBI Academy hoodie, though you can’t really imagine Spencer and all his formal glory in a hoodie. You put it on, nonetheless, shutting the door with your foot and just as you turn around, your eyes catch sight of something. Something big, and beige, and bone chilling.

The box.

In the heat of the moment, you simply thought he had throw it away. Hell, it would’ve made sense to throw it away! What the fuck was that box doing there…? With a shaky breath, you open the wardrobe door again, hoping, praying, that you were actually hallucinating and that what you saw was nothing but a shoe box or a bag. “God, please, be a bag, be a bag…” Safe to say, your words are in vain. “Fuck, Spencer, what is wrong with you?”

You’re shaking when you pull the box out of its hiding place, breathing shallow and fast. Reason escapes you as you quickly open it, not worried about how it was or even about putting it back in place; if it was up to you, this box would’ve been gone a long time ago. Clearly, it had not been up to you. “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.”

Expectations are a tricky thing to deal with. When it comes to your life, you never expected anything big. You know your limitation better than anyone and the largest you’ve dreamt before was the store. You didn’t expect an FBI agent. You didn’t expect a serial killer. And you certainly didn’t expect a box full of sex toys. “What the…” You don’t want to touch them, not with your bare hands, but it looks like there are tens of toys in there, varying in shapes and sizes and colours. It makes you wonder… last he told you, her games are psychological and manipulative. From what you are seeing, though, this is incredibly physical. This is about touch and intimacy and… fuck. This is about connection. You don’t have to be a profiler to know that, not when you are so secretive about your own toys, hidden in the back of your besides drawer away from unwanted eyes. It’s a private thing, and only people you trusted, people you let into your life, knew about them.

Before you know what you’re doing, you rush to find your phone. It’s somewhere in the house, and you need to find it, you need to call him. “Pick up,” You whisper when you finally find it in the living room, under your favourite blanket on the chair. Even your fingers are shaking, vision a bit blurred from the adrenaline rushing through you– you feel like you’re in danger, and you don’t know what to do. “Spence, pick up, pick up, please pick up–“

“Hello?” You almost cry when you hear his raspy voice on the other side. It doesn’t make you feel any better to think that you might just have woken him up.

“Spencer,” You whine, embarrass with how needy you sound. The nice officer that brought you home is standing outside the door, and you could’ve gone to him– could’ve opened the door, asked him to stay inside, talk to him a little. Or you could’ve called Penelope. She had given you her number with promises that more often then not, she stayed behind to work from the BAU office. There is no place safer than my office, she had promised you, but how do you tell her that the problem is not your environment, it’s not where you are or what you’re doing… how do you tell her that the problem is you? She might not understand it so you don’t even dare try to explain it. You don’t dare to give her and the team this part of yourself too and you shut your mouth with a firm hand over your lips.

Memories of a life you left behind flash behind your eyes, and you whimper, hugging your knees to your chest while you hear him desperately calling for you. As far as you can, you kick that godforsaken box away from you. “Y/N?! Y/N, say something, please! Are you okay? Y/N!”

“I’m here,” You whisper, pushing your hair away from your face. “I’m here.’

“What’s going on?”

“Spencer, I–” A moment of regret and hesitation makes you pause. What can he even do all the way from Ohio? “I want to go home.”

You’re not his priority.

You’ll never be his priority.

There is no point to this.

“…did something happen?” This is the Spencer you know– voice soft and guarded– and for a second it feels like you two are getting to know each other all over again. “Did officer Kaper make you uncomfortable? I’ll ask for a change of guard, I’ll–“

“N-No,” You cut him off with a shaky exhale. Your head falls on your free hand, finger tangled with your messy hair, and you tug on it. Sharply, the tingly pain on your scalp grounds you for a second, brings you back to this situation you created. “No, Spence, no no no, I just want to go home, I need to go home, I–“

“Y/N, breathe,” He coaches you as gently as he can, voice stable and strong, everything you seem to be lacking. “You’re going to set yourself off in a panic again if you don’t breathe. You’re safe in my apartment, okay? I know it’s not the same as being home, I know, but you’re safe there!”

“You’re not here, Spence!”

There is a moment of silence for both of you. “You’re not here and you didn’t throw that fucking box away,” You whisper, keeping the moment something in between just the two of you. It’s enough that you are falling apart like this in front of Spencer, you don’t need officer Kaper bursting in the door to witness this too.

“You found the box,” He sighs. This is the first time you notice just how tired he sounds.

“I found the box,” You confirm, sniffling in a stubborn attempt to not start crying all over again.

“It’s evidence. I can’t throw it away, Y/N.”

“Why is it here?”

“I’ve been working on the case on my free time and it just made sense to keep it at home…”

“Spence, I want to go home. I don’t feel safe,” You admit, shaking your head. “I don’t feel safe here when you’re not here, Spence, I want to go home.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Spencer…” He has a point, though, and you know it. This is the first time you two speak in days, the first time you experience this type of comfort again, but it’s still not enough. He’s still not here, next to you, watching over you. He’s still not with you. “Spencer, I’m sorry.”

“Silly girl, why are you apologising?” He asks, chuckling on the other side and you can picture him– you can see him shaking his head, hair falling around his pretty face like a perfect picture frame when his eyes, pure honey with specks of green, search for yours. Yeah… you can imagine it to perfection, almost like you are the one with eidetic memory. “This is all my fault. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N and I’m trying to protect you, so I need you to stay there, okay? I need you to stay in my apartment, please.”

You don’t know what to tell him. Your eyes wander around the room, looking at all the details he left behind without even noticing. There is a copy of Dostoevsky on the bed side table. I hate Russian literature, you remember telling him once. He was in the shop, bringing you coffee, when you caught a glimpse of a book you certainly didn’t sell him. And I’m appalled you’ve been buying books somewhere else. The way he laughed then, like his biggest problem in the world was explaining to you that this had been a gift from a friend and that he would never betray your trust like this. What do you hate so much about it?, he had asked, leaning over the counter and into you, eager to debate this topic he loved so much. I hate that it’s all about suffering. Even the moments of realisation and self-improvement, they are all through suffering and misery. And of course he had a retort to that, fingers twitching with his enthusiasm. But it’s contextual, you see! Those were written in time of civil unrest and political chaos, and it makes sense to have characters and plot lines that revolve around suffering when that is all you know from the world around you. To this day, your answer paralyses you. I’m a believer in silver linings and happy endings. And not because I’m naive or ignorant, but because the world around me has made me believe that there must be something better out there. Isn’t that nicer?

“Y/N, please tell me you’ll stay there, I need you to stay there.”

His words almost escape you, but you catch them in the very last minute. It gives you a glimpse into a side of him he has yet to show you, and it absolutely shatters your heart in bits. I need you to stay there, he had said. Not you need to stay there, but I need you to stay there. Suddenly, you realise that this– all of this, the relocation, the involvement of the FBI, the dropping off and picking up– is not just for you.

“I’ll stay here,” Whispering with him like this helps. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be. I’m happy you called.”

“I’ll let you go back to sleep, but Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Be safe. I need you back here.”

“I’ll be home in no time.”

For a second, you trust him. You trust everything will be okay, that you can make everything okay until he gets back, and then you’ll pass the responsibility onto him. For a second, you trust him, but you also trust yourself.

Everything will be okay.

You fall asleep like this; wearing his hoodie and hugging your phone, nose buried on his pillow in hopes to dream of him. The sun wakes you up, and there are birds chirping at your window. Despite the heaviness you feel in you and dooming headache you know will settle soon, the romantic in you believes that today will be a good day. That today will be an okay day.

“Miss Y/L/N? It’s officer Kaper.”

The knock doesn’t scare you anymore. On days one through three it had you jumping on air, heart about to stop from how fast it was beating. Days four and five were easier, less scary and more anxious, waiting for the punctual 9AM knock. From day six onwards, it was a welcome start to your day, knowing that someone is looking after you.

You check the fisheye like Spencer told you to, and then you open the door only when you recognise the face on the other side. “Good morning, Officer,” You smile, nodding at him a bit stiffly. The two of you had been formally introduced by JJ, but it didn’t make this any less awkward for you. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure,” He nods, smiling as he comes inside with his usual stack of mail. Everyday, without fail, someone picks up your mail and brings it to Officer Kaper. “Here’s your mail for the day, ma’am.”

“How was the night shift?” It’s almost like a scripted conversation, these back and forth questions you throw at each other, and you’re finding that you hate this. You hate the stiff conversations and the self-imposed bans. But this is day two, and in just more two days, Spencer would be home. And you would talk to him, just like you used to before, just like you did over the phone. Nothing will change; you’re not going home any time soon and Cat Adams isn’t going to just magically disappear. It’s time to accept it and learn how to live with it, as hard as that sounds.

Sifting through your mail has to be your favourite part of the day. It’s normal, slightly boring, and a peek into the routine you used to have and love. No one ever sends you letters, so it’s just bills. “Water, electricity, marketing, marketing,” The coffee is brewing in the background and Officer Kaper is telling you about his daughter. She’s a tiny girl, just two and very, very shy, but apparently, she loves stories. “I might have a book for her,” You get distracted from the letters for a second, smiling at the kind officer. “I’ll bring it to you later tonight!”

When you look back again, it’s the one on top.

The envelope is white, like any other letter, and it has no thing in the back but your name and address scribbled in red, a big heart right next to it. “Uh, Officer, this is… this is weird.” You’ve been instructed to let someone know if you received anything unlabelled or unexpected. This letter is certainly unexpected. “It has no return address.”

“May I open it?” He asks and you nod. He opens it with a knife, pulling a small piece of paper inside. “Okay, it seems like a normal letter. There is no signature of any kind.”

“What does it say?” You’re nervous now, walking around Officer Kaper to read over his shoulder. “Oh my god.”

“Does this mean anything to you?”

Nodding, you’re dialling Spencer’s number already. “It means I’m fucked.”

On the table, laid a message you’d never forget.

He’s not yours to keep.

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

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@bunnylov-3-r

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help-itrappedmyself · 6 months

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Dead on Main Part 9

My apology for the earlier mishap. Hope you like it!

Masterpost

A few hours later, a fourth of the way home, they start arguing about who should drive the next shift. There seem to be two main arguments. The first is between Dick and Bruce on whether Bruce even needs a break.The second is between Dick and Tim about who should take over for Bruce.

Bruce has been driving for four hours, and it’s now about midnight, so he should take a break to sleep. Dick had napped for about an hour after the panicked stop when Jason’s ectoplasm had gone haywire, and he was the only one who had slept so far. He’s winning the argument between him and Bruce. Because he was the only one who had napped so far, and apparently Tim had been awake for a terrible amount of time, Dick is also winning the argument between him and Tim.

Danny is pretty sure even sleep deprived most people would drive better than his father, and he doesn’t have a driver’s license so he keeps quiet. It’s funny how intense they get in their arguments without ever becoming serious. Danny appreciates that no matter how intense they get there’s never any anger in their voices.

“Tim, you haven’t slept more than five hours in the last two days, you are not driving this car. There is no way you are driving this car. Neither of us are going to let you.”

“Bruce has been awake for 23 hours straight!” Tim argues.

“Which is why Bruce should also not be driving anymore!”

“Tim you are definitely not driving, go to sleep. Dick, If we switch drivers we have to stop and we can’t afford to stop and waste time. We’ll switch drivers when we need gas next.” Bruce states rationally. Danny thinks this is a good argument really.

“If we crash and die we’ll also waste time.” Tim points out, sulking.

“Switching drivers will take all of two seconds and so help me If I am not driving in the next two minutes I am commandeering the radio for the rest of the trip and you know neither of you will be able to stop me.”

Danny isn’t sure why that is so serious of a threat, but that shut both Bruce and Tim up immediately. Bruce pulls over and they do a quick seating change. Since Bruce and Tim need to sleep so one of them can drive later, Danny switches into the passenger seat while Dick slips into the driver's seat. That way Bruce and Tim can stretch out in the back.

“What do you listen to that they dislike so much?” Danny asks a little later. Danny can’t tell if either of them are sleeping, but neither of them have moved at all in the last ten minutes. He’s quiet just in case.

“I mean, I like a lot of music. They just know that I can put on circus music for hours. I grew up in a circus, so I'll even enjoy doing it. It annoys them after like three songs at most though.”

Danny has a moment where all he can think of is Freakshow’s circus, but he shakes it off.

“Did all of you grow up in the circus?” Danny could have sworn Bruce was more like Vlad. Grew up wealthy, ran a business (less illegally, he thinks, but that's not hard considering), and went to parties and stuff. Dick laughs at his question.

“No, only me, I’m afraid.” Dick glances at the back seat, before refocusing on the road. “Bruce adopted all of us, except for Damian. But even Damian grew up with his mother before coming to live with Bruce. So all of us have very different upbringings actually. Circus for me. Jason was next, he had a hard life before Bruce found him, and after too. He’s been through a lot. Tim had rich parents, they loved him but weren't around much. Duke was adopted after his parents died but he was raised by both of them, he had the most normal life growing up.”

“Tim and Damian both found Bruce more than the other way around. Damian’s mom… loves him a lot, but she was in a dangerous situation and wanted Damian to be safe. So she dropped him off with us.” You could hear the love in Dick’s voice as he spoke about his family.

“Your family seems happy. Nice. I mean, you all dropped everything to drive me home. I appreciate it.” Danny thought carefully for a moment, he didn't want to learn too much second hand. He'd rather get to know Jason personally. But some things only family can tell you. “Do you think Jason and I will get along? From what I've heard I know we have similar senses of humor, at least relating to our own deaths. And, well, we have that experience to bond over. But our lives seem like they've been very different.”

Dick’s face softens. “I think that Jason has spent his whole life fighting. For anything and everything. He's not going to stop now. You guys’ll figure it out.”

Danny looks at him. “Have you met your soulmate?”

Dick’s whole face lights up. “I have. We knew each other before the switch, but.. it was still a lot of drama and awkwardness at first. I think Bruce almost had a heart attack when it happened, and then an aneurysm when he found out who it was. That was hilarious.”

Dick glances at Danny, saw him biting his lip and twisting his hands together, eyes in his lap. “We had met, but we still had a lot to learn about each other. Getting to know him has been one of the best parts of my life. He’s my best friend.”

Dick reaches over and ruffles Danny’s hair. “Why don't you try to sleep Danny. You'll be meeting him soon.”

Danny nodded, giving Dick a light smile and settling himself into his chair.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dead on main #soulmate au #fanfiction #my writing #danny phantom #jason todd

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bitter-hibiscus · 3 months

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what are some of your favorite robin jason headcanons

ARGH DONT GET ME STARTED---

Commissioner Gordon isn't allowed to smoke around Robin!Jason. He WILL make puppydog eyes the entire night to try and get commish to give him one

He's the only Robin who's allowed the aud in the Batmobile because he shares Bruce's music taste

Since his room in the manor is Dick's old one, he found Dick's old Flying Graysons poster and taped it above his bed. He uses it as motivation for Robin because if Dick can still be good despite the tragedy of the Graysons then he can too

Selina is his favorite "family" member because she took him to Wildcat's boxing ring the first time they went out together AND she's the only one in that buys him batburgers

He only cooks for himself, because cooking for Bruce makes him think of Catherine's last years :)

He has a huge scar from his lip to his left eye from where Willis' wedding ring caught on his skin once

His favorite book is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

He spends his first two months in the manor sleeping in the closet instead of the bed

His shower in the Batcave has a bird print on the curtain (when he comes back as Red Hood, it's changed to a fox print)

Jason loves anything chocolate and hates anything strawberry EXCEPT for shortcake. Alfred makes brownies very often

Jason took a knife from the kitchen the day he moved into the manor and hid it under his pillow. Bruce knows but never asked him to give it back. Jason puts it back in the kitchen on the 3 month mark

Jason never has any money despite his allowance being hundreds of dollars because he just leaves them in his childhood friends (Max, Numbers, etc) bedrooms every time

Eddie comes over once every 2-ish months and the first time he's there and Dick comes over Dick is CONVINCED Bruce got another one. Jason runs with it and almost convinces Alfred that Eddie is his new brother

Jason has a winter version of the Robin uniform and the cape has 1) a hood and 2) fur lining. He has to replace it often because he gives it to homeless kids as a blanket more often than not. Bruce is glad to buy him new ones

If he goes to Crime Alley as a civilian, every single crook will ask him if he's "Willis' boy" because when he was still alive, Willis couldn't go more than 10 minutes without telling his coworkers about his little prince

Jason uses a leave-on conditioner for his curls that Dick recommended him. It smells like oranges, and becomes the scent that Bruce associates with him

His favorite piece of clothing is a dark red sweater with two yellow stripes that Clark sent to him for his birthday

Speaking of Clark, his Superman autograph is framed on the wall in his room

He makes friendship bracelets when he's bored!! Most of them he gives to children he rescues as Robin (it becomes Gotham Culture to compare how many Robin friendship bracelets you have. The record is 23). The ones he doesn't give to victims are usually given to Rena or Eddie (and, in one rare occasion, to Bruce. it says "Spooky." Bruce still wears it after Jason comes back)

Robin Jason looks like a doll. He has an up-tipped button nose and eyes three times the size they ought to be, big eyelashes and cupids bow lips. He looks like Sheila as Robin, and like Willis as Red Hood

He has a tattoo in the shape of a batarang on his shoulder because of Willis (which I've written about here)

Okay i just realized how long this is oh my god. I didn't even make a DENT on my Robin Jason headcanons. god help me

#snksknj thank you for this ask it was really fun to answer #im very normal about him as you can see #zinc ask #ramble ramble ramble #dc comics #jason todd #batman #robin dc #batfam #bruce wayne #jaybin

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spacebaby1 · 2 months

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hiyaaa

Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?

and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him

drama, angst but happy ending 😝

Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!

You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.

All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.

The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:

My love: Baby are you okay?

Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?

My love:Darling? Can I call you?

*missed call*

My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.

My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry

My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...

My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.

12:23 P.M

My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.

My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!

My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!

3:50 P.M

My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.

My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."

He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"

"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."

"Please, Rindou. I need space."

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"

"No, Rin. I can-"

"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.

On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."

"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.

"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"

You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."

You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.

It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"

You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"

"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.

Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?

He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.

You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"

You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."

#i wanna make out with rindou #rindou x y/n #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #tokrev rindou #tr rindou #rindou haitani fluff #rindou haitani x you #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers fanfiction

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lexisecretaccx · 3 months

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A+ Student Pt 7

Masterlist!

(Fem reader, angst, smut, more car sex😭🙏 , argument, drama, it all goes down bro, etc, not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

I look at my phone blankly, not answering it. The call disappears off of my screen and I breathe out finally. Until it rings again, he’s desperate to reach me, I let it ring a third time and then I pick it up and answer it. “Hello?” I hesitate. A sigh leaves the other end of the phone.

“Matt?” I ask, “You’ve made me so fucking angry y/n.” He speaks lowly. “I- uh how?” I’m nervous, I don’t know why. He chuckles sarcastically, “You know why.” He breathes in, “You need to pay for what you did. You’re a little slut.” He hisses, even though he’s clearly upset I can’t help but get turned on by the way he’s speaking to me.

I swallow harshly, “How would I pay for what I did?” I ask, my core aching. “You deserve a punishment, a.. detention perhaps.” He seems like he’s being flirty but he still sounds angry and that is a hot combination. “Okay when should I have a detention professor?” I tease him, “don’t enjoy this y/n. I’ll hang up if you fucking enjoy this shit.. you’re a slut you know that?” He huffs in frustration.

“We both know that Matt.” I speak seductively and smirk, he can’t see it but you know. “Fuck..” he groans, “I’ll tell you something.” I start to speak, “what?” He replies and I chuckle softly, “I think you’re only mad because your brother has fucked me twice and he’s only know me for a short while and you? You’ve been my professor for the past year and you’ve only been able to eat me out. Hm?”

“I couldn’t care less y/n,” he sighs, “I’m fucking pissed off because..” he stops speaking, “because I left yours after you basically forced me out and then I fucked Chris?” I’m having fun winding him up. “Yes that and also because you don’t have a fucking clue about Chris.” He speaks coldly.

“What about him?” I’m confused, “I can’t tell you on the phone it’s easier to speak in person, I want to see your face.” I sigh, “well I’ll meet you tomorrow?” I wanna know what he’s talking about “I can’t tomorrow, grading papers, Sunday?” He really wants to tell me something I can tell, “yeah sure.”

We talk for another minute before hanging up, what the fuck is he talking about? I’ll have to see him on Sunday, wait shit! I forgot to ask Lizzy if she was okay. I pull out my phone and call her. Luckily she answers quickly, “Liz you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t reply.” She laughs lightly, “yeah it’s all good now, my parents were arguing and I just needed somewhere to go.”

“If I was home I would’ve let you come over, where did you go in the end?” “Just to a friend’s house, where were you then?” I need to lie I don’t want her to know about what went on. “I was out with my dad.”

Me and her talk back and forth until she has to go.

Sunday

My alarm goes off and I struggle to grab my phone to shut it off. “Fuck..” I groan out of tiredness, it’s 8:30am and after 10 minutes of procrastinating wether I should go back to sleep I get out of bed and hop in the shower, still not fully awake so I’m stumbling.

I do my everything shower and get into my room to get dressed, I pick a basic ass pair of sweats and a tight white vest. I put some makeup on and check the time, it’s 10:23. Matt told me he could pick me up at half 10. I get my shoes on and go downstairs, “I’m headed out dad!” I call to my dad who is on the couch.

“No worries stay safe pumpkin.” He smiles, “do you want me to make you a coffee before I go?” I ask him as I still have time, “It’s alright, I got one here.” He lifts his mug, “thank you though.” He nods, “Okay no worries, see ya!” I walk out the front door and I just wait on the sidewalk.

After 10 minutes the Porsche pulls up and I remember Matt saying he drives it sometimes. He stops in front of me and I hop in the passenger seat, the same passenger seat that me and Chris fucked in 2 days previously. “Hey.” He speaks, “Hi, what did you wanna tell me?” I ask him putting the seatbelt on.

He looks at me for a good 10 seconds, I tilt my head in confusion as he isn’t speaking. “I lied.” He swallows, “Lied? About what?” I’m even more confused now, he starts driving. “I lied, I have nothing to say about Chris.” He sounds unsure, “What why?” I ask him.

“I’m fucking jealous as shit y/n,” He sighs, “I just wanted to see you, I’m sorry I’m a fucking dick.” He slows down and pulls down a street. “It’s okay Matt, don’t worry.” I try to reassure him.” He shakes his head, “It’s not okay, not until I can.. feel you around me.” He whispers. He pulls into the parking lot of an abandoned store.

I feel myself get hot, did he really just say that? I can’t form words out of shock, he turns to me. “He fucked you in this car didn’t he.” I look at him and nod, “in the backseat?” He speaks quieter, I shake my head “in this seat.” I point at where I’m sitting, “that must’ve been awkward.” He smirks, “yeah I hit my head a few times.”

“Maybe you need someone to show you how to fuck in a car.. the comfortable way.” He bites his lip, I squeeze my thighs together as he speaks. His hand comes down to my thigh, “you’re a slut.” He chuckles, my face turns red and I look away.

He grabs my face and turns it to him, “get in the back.” He undoes my seatbelt. I nod quickly and hop out the car, he copies and we both get into the backseat, I’m glad these back windows are tinted as it’s broad daylight outside, even though the car park is empty. He wastes no time and crashes his lips onto mine.

His hands travel to my sweatpants as pulls them down to my ankles and then undoes the zipper of his jeans before pulling both of our pants off. The imprint of his cock is unmissable. He grabs my legs and slides me so I’m practically laying down on the backseat, without hesitation he removes my underwear and puts it on the drivers seat.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He slides two fingers across my slit before pushing them in quickly. I moan out lightly, he moves them in and out about 5 times, before removing them. “Please..” I look up at him, raising my inner brows. He smirks before pulling his boxes off, his dick is big, not as big as Chris’ but it’s still perfect.

I go to try and wrap my hands around his length and he stops me by grabbing my hands with one hand, pushing them above my head and with the other hand moves my legs into missionary position.

“I don’t have a condom.” He looks at me, “I’m on birth control.” I speak rapidly, just wanting to feel him inside me, “desperate hm?” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. I nod, “please Matt.. fuck me.” I whine, he chuckles, resting his tip at my entrance but not pushing it in, I wiggle to try and get some friction.

“Matt.. stop teasing me please just…” he cuts me off by pushing inside instantly, I moan out and grip the seat. “Just what? What did you want me to do?” He teases, he thrusts in and out slowly at first before quickening the pace until he’s pounding into me and the car is definitely moving. Mine and his moans fill the car.

I can feel myself getting closer and closer, I look down at where we connect, his dick disappearing inside of me with every thrust, his hand comes down and rubs circles on my clit. I scream out his name and my back arches. “Fuck..” he groans out, I feel the euphoria wash over me as I come undone. My arousal leaking around his dick.

Not long after he finishes inside of me and pulls out. We both sit breathlessly, “that was.. fucking amazing.” I breathe out harshly, “Can I have my panties back?” I ask him as I grab my sweatpants off of the car floor, “I think I’ll keep them, as a souvenir.” He smirks as he gets his boxers and jeans back on. “You weirdo.” I tease him and slide my sweatpants on without underwear underneath.

We get back into the front seats and he gives me the aux, I put on some random playlist on shuffle. He stuffs my panties into his pocket before we put our seatbelts on and he drives off. “Do you wanna come to mine? Just for food or something.” Matt asks me, “Yeah of course, is Chris gonna be there?” I whisper his name.

“Probably not, Chris did say he was going out somewhere.” Matt replies, “okay yeah I’ll come.”

We get to his house and Matt pulls in the driveway before we get out the car and enter the house. It’s quiet, except for faint music coming from upstairs. I look to Matt, “Nick probably.” He answers, we walk to the kitchen and I sit on the barstool. “Do you want a soda?” Matt opens the fridge, “yeah sure what do you have?” I lean on the counter to look in the fridge, my ass in the air.

“We have Pepsi and..” Matt gets cut off, “That’s a nice view.” Chris. He walks up from the hallway behind, I sit back down and turn to him, my face red. He’s wearing a black wifebeater vest and grey sweats holding an empty glass, Matt stands up and closes the fridge. “What ya doing?” Chris asks as he walks up next to Matt, “nothing important.”

“What’s this?” Chris pulls my panties out of the pocket of Matts jeans. He looks at me, tilting his head. “Oh.” Is all that he says. He chuckles but I can tell he’s pissed off.

“I just..” I try to explain but Chris scoffs loudly, “Oh shut it y/n.” He puts his glass down and slams his hands on the counter infront of me, I flinch. “What happened to ‘Matt is a dick’ and all that bullshit?” He leans in further. “Hm?” He looks angry. “I don’t know.” I mumble. I look over, Matt is smiling slightly?

Chris turns to Matt, “I don’t know what your problem is. This is just a competition to you isn’t it?” Chris shoves Matt backwards into the fridge door. “Calm down.” Matt replies to Chris who just turns around, “Calm down? I can’t fucking calm down right now Matt.” He walks over to me, “you’re a selfish bitch.” He points his finger in my face.

“It was going well, I thought you actually gave a fuck.” He scoffs, “I do Chris..” I try to speak again, “If you did then why did you go back to him?” It’s a valid question, I don’t know. “Maybe she prefers me.” Matt stupidly pipes up. Chris picks the glass that he put down and he throws it at the cabinet next to Matt.

It smashes and the glass flies everywhere. I get off the stool and step back, “Chris stop..” I thought I’d be scared of him. “It was a joke just stop being so childish.” Matt retorts to Chris, “I’m not fucking laughing.” He speaks more calmly, his eyes look watery. “I’ll clean that up.” He spoke quietly, pointing at the shattered glass on the floor.

“While you’re at it clean your act up too hm?” Matt smirks, he’s making this worse. “I’ll be cleaning your fucking blood off the wall if you don’t shut the fuck up.” Chris yells. “Your acting all tough but I don’t think she knows about you know what.” Chris points at me, Matts eyes widen.

“What?” I’m confused, “What was her name again? Kelly?” Chris asks Matt, Matt looks nervous. Kelly the new girl? What are they talking about. “Yeah that was it, that was strange when she was here wasn’t it.” Chris hisses.

She was here? “I think that was the night after y/n was here the first time right? The night you upset her and I was the only person who comforted her right?” Chris walks even closer to Matt. “What is he talking about?” I ask Matt because I feel like I know what went on I just wanna hear it from him.

“He was ‘helping her catch up with the work’ or something, what was your excuse again?” Chris turns to Matt who’s face is bright red, Matt looks at me, “Matt what the fuck is he talking about?” I raise my voice to him.

“I.. Kelly wanted to get caught up with the class work, that’s all I promise you y/n.” He pleads with me, “The thing is, you don’t teach biology so there was no need for your dick to be out.” Chris chuckles, Matts expression shows me everything I need to know, he’s a fucking liar. “I have every right to report you to the college.” Chris smirks at Matt.

“You’d lose your job too asshole.” Matt growls back at him, “yeah but I don’t need that job, I got it just to try it out.” Chris grabs the brush and pan and starts to sweep up the glass. “Fuck you.” Matt grabs his car keys and walks out of the house.

I feel tears run down my eyes as I stand there in shock, the day after he refused to kiss me he had Kelly here and his dick out? What the fuck. “You good?” Chris stands up and looks at me, his expression shifting to concern as he notices the tears rolling down my face.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologises.

A/n: guys…. Heheh Hehehe smut with Matt hehehe but the angst is wilding out. Chris is my baby girl😖 bro I have so many ideas for new series’ and I just wanna write a new series rn (pbviously continuing this one as it’ll only have like 2 parts left I think!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi @nayveetbhh @sturnsmadl @mattspleasure @m0r94n @raysmayhem-72 @flamethrower313

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt #Chris

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sagesskies · 8 months

Text

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇᴏ

✒ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ

✉ - ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱ - ʜᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴘ ʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇQᴜᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ? (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʀɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ♥)

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀɪꜱʜ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀꜱ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴀɴ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 30ꜱ), ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴏʀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ (ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ), ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere CEO who first met you at your job in your friend's family bakery. Young, bright, and full of life, wearing a baby blue apron. You eagerly greeted him with a smile, and asked how he was doing. There was nothing forced about your mannerisms, it was all genuinely, purely, you.

Yandere CEO, despite knowing it'll all end up flushed down a toilet, comes in everyday ordering the different pastries you recommend. After his seventh visit, you jokingly ask him if he's got any cavities yet and he blushes. Not that you notice.

Yandere CEO who gathers the courage to talk to you beyond simple good mornings, and responding to your questions of: “How are you Milan?” or “So that'll it be for today, eh?” and stammers out things like, “N- Nice weather today, huh?” and even, “Uh.. How- How long have you been working here for?” It's all simple, nearly no substance, but it's exceptional progress for somebody like him who barely even speaks to his secretaries beyond plain Yes's and No's.

Yandere CEO whose fair face turns a furious red whenever you tease or compliment him, calling him things like adorable and cute. Never has he been called anything like that before. People see him, with his bodybuilder-esque physique and stoic face, with it's fierce features, and are too intimidated to treat him with anything other than with a respect that is borne out of fear.

Yandere CEO who knows this is wrong. He's 38 years old, and you're only what? 23? This is wrong, this is taboo, this is predatory. But his heart can't help but beat furiously for you each time he steps inside the quaint little bakery. Your bright smile, your gentle eyes, your warm voice. You are like the sun, and he is your ever-devoted Icarus, who will crash and burn if he tries to even fly an inch closer.

Yandere CEO who is unable to sleep at night. He's used to this, he's had insomnia since he was a teenager in highschool, but never like this before. Where previously it was paranoia and anxieties that kept sleep at bay now it was you, the scent of pastries and bread, and your warmth.

Yandere CEO who unconsciously starts to act like a teenage girl. Doodling your name in the margins of his paperwork, writing (Name) x Milan over and over again in the empty pages of his journal, which was previously used exclusively for tracking his expenses but was now being used for more personal entries.

July 17, 2009

Today [Name] remembered it was my birthday, and bought me a slice of chocolate cake using his own money. I tried to keep it down, but unfortunately my body is too used to emptying its stomach whenever I eat too much.

September 7, 2009

[Name] asked me if I've been sleeping well recently, and even if I told him I was okay, he still gave me a box of teabags. He told me it helps him sleep at night, and hopes it'll be able to help me too. He's so kind, and too good to me. I can never tell him it's him who's the cause behind these sleepless nights. I think it'll devastate him. Sometimes, I hope it will.

February 13, 2010

[Name] asked me if I was going to buy somebody any pastries for Valentine's Day, and if there's anybody I'm hoping to receive any chocolates from. I wanted to tell him I hoped to receive chocolates from him, but that would be inappropriate. Then he told me he hoped his girlfriend would remember to give him some.

[Name] has a girlfriend.

Yandere CEO who doesn't show up for multiple days after you reveal this to him. He goes back to old habits, the following days occupied by work, work, and work. He sleeps rarely, and wakes up late. He eats even less than he usually does, and forgets to go to the gym.

The only thing that Yandere CEO does outside of that? Pay private investigators to learn as much as possible about you, no matter how dirty or well kept the secret is he will know.

It's unethical, a violation of all your rights, but he thought you two were close. That you were friends. A kind of relationship he barely even knew. All he knows is distant families, cold business partners, and shallow imitations of friendship. He thought you were different, you were so real, but if he didn't even know you had a girlfriend, then what else was he unaware of?

Yandere CEO whose father calls him, and tells him his secretaries have told him about how he's been acting, and advises him to take a break. Perhaps he should try to hit the dating scene? He'll have to get married eventually, and he's not getting any younger.

Yandere CEO who goes to the blind dates his mother arranges for him. Daughters of her friends, sometimes even granddaughters. Women who are sometimes a decade younger than him. Women who are his age. He never told his parents he was gay, and now he has to suffer through this.

Yandere CEO who is thinking of canceling the date on the spot when she takes him to a familiar bakery, the familiar bell rings as the door swings open and you're still there, wearing your baby blue apron, and the polite smile you flashed his date immediately widens when you see him.

Yandere CEO who freezes up, and then stammers out a greeting, face flushed. His date, who has so far only experienced the cold and stoic front he puts on, is surprised that what has broken down the stone walls he's put up is the cute, young, male baker, who has a bright grin on his face.

“Milan!” You practically chirp, “It's been so long, where have you been man?”

You were wondering where he was? You missed him? You missed him? Milan? He couldn't believe his ears, he felt like he could faint.

Milan clears his throat, averting his grey eyes away from you, and avoiding Carrie's burning gaze.

“I have been preoccupied with work,” He explains, it's not a lie, he's just exaggerating how much work there was for him when it was basically just him doing paperwork and attending meetings every once in a while, “I apologize if my absence has bothered you…”

You chuckle, “I'm just glad to see you again.” Milan can't help the small smile that forms on his face, but he restrains it from widening into a grin. He's in front of Carrie, a friend but at the same time a business partner, a marriage prospect, an unwelcome intruder into what could've been a moment between you two.

You glance at Carrie as if remembering that she was here, “Ah, sorry, you must've been confused on how I know him, but I'm a friend of Milan,” You smile kindly at her, “Name's [Name] [L/N], nice to meet you!”

Carrie forces a polite smile on her face, “A pleasure,” Her eyes are filled with a cold fury, though Milan knows it's not directed to you, “My name is Carolyn, Carolyn Deveuraux. However, you may call me Carrie.”

Milan fakes a cough, “Mhm, anyways.. I'd like to have the usual… and Carrie you'll have..?”

She hums, “I'll have a cinnabon.”

You glance between the two, noticing the obvious tension between them, “Oookay, I'll have that prepared for you two in a jiffy,” Milan hands you his card, and savors the slight brush of your fingers, before your warmth is teared away and you slide it back to him when you're done.

He glares at Carrie for scaring you away, but she doesn't even look at him, her eyes are fixed on you. Milan wants to gouge her eyes out, she doesn't even deserve to look at you. Not when she barely knows you. Not like him, who knows every single thing about you that his money can buy for him.

You head into the back to prepare the goods, and Carrie goes back outside where there are tables and chairs. She sits on one, and crosses her arms. Milan settles on the one across from her, posture straight, arms on the table, eyes… decidedly not looking at Carrie.

“So, you and that man… [Name], was it?” Milan nods, she continues, “You know each other, do you?” She taps one carefully manicured nail against the arm of the chair. Tap, tap, tap.

Milan does not simply know [Name], he practically lives underneath the younger man's skin, but instead of verbalizing this he nods once more, “We have known each other for two years.”

“Hm,” Her eyes narrow, they are blue, like ice, “ And how old is [Name]?”

“Twenty-four years old,” Milan tells her, “He had just gotten out of college when we first met.” His eyes trail to the window into the bakery, you still haven't emerged. Why were you taking so long?

“Does he know?” Carrie’s tone is sharp and frigid. Milan glances at her, if he is not careful then he could be caught up in an inescapable storm.

“He does not,” Milan admits, “And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” You still have your girlfriend, and he's content with your secrets and the stolen pictures.

Carrie glares at him, “Why him? Is it his mind? His personality? Or is he simply a pretty boy you like to ogle at?” She's angry, and Milan, for his lack of proper socialization, has been taught to read people, every single shift in expression or body language has a hidden meaning, can tell this fury stems from something personal.

“That is none of your business,” Milan had known Carrie for a while now, since his 30th birthday party where his father invited all his associates, and Lewis Deveuraux had brought his 28 year old daughter Carolyn, but they were never friends so much as allies in the cutthroat world of capitalism, and she was crossing a line.

“I can tell your father.”

“Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’, Carolyn?” Milan asks, “You tell him, and I'll be doing so much more than giving you stitches.”

Carrie doesn't even flinch, “Not much you can do when stripped of your position at your father's company,” She doesn't get a chance to continue, not when you arrive with a tray carrying the warm pastries. You set the plates down, as well as the complementary coffee.

“Here you go…” You glance between the two of them, “It's been nice seeing you again Milan,” You smile at Carrie, “Great to meet you too, Carrie, hope to see you around some more.”

Milan digs a nail into the skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood, if only to stop himself from punching that smirk on Carrie's face off, “Thank you, [Name],” Her voice is pleasant, light and airy, “It was a pleasure to meet a… friend of Milan today.”

“Same here,” You grin. You wave goodbye to the both of them, then head back into the bakery.

Carrie's polite smile is gone as soon as you're out of the vicinity, “Let's talk about this later,” She reaches out and places a well-manicured hand on top of Milan's larger one, and her lips curl up, “For now, enjoy the treats your little crush has made for us.”

Yandere CEO, who since that reunion has started coming back more often. Happy to finally be able to bask in your presence again, thoughts of your girlfriend are dashed from his mind when he saw your smile again after two months of being deprived of it.

The only downside? Carrie is there as well. Chatting you up, using her charm to lower your guard down. She's a snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yandere CEO knows she's trying to break you two apart, but he won't let her.

Yandere CEO who can't stand watching you smile at her, keeping up with her bright mind in ways he knew you could but had never seen before. He didn't know it was possible, but he's become even more enraptured. Handsome with not only a good personality, but also intelligent. God, you were perfect.

Yandere CEO is able to himself with an endurance he didn't even know he possessed. He's not used to the rage that has been gathering inside him, but it's not that similar to managing his fear and paranoia. He can't do anything to Carrie, not when you two have practically become the best of friends.

Yandere CEO who decides that he can't let himself fall behind, he was here first you know. He's known you for two years while Carrie was only for a few weeks. He musters up the confidence he often uses in meeting rooms, trying to look suave and cool, but instead making you laugh.

“Haha… you're seriously so adorable Milan,” You tease, “What're you acting so serious for?”

After that, Yandere CEO decides to just act how he did before, it's clearly more effective as you've even invited him to eat with you in the park near the bakery during your lunch hours. Something you haven't done in the two whole years you've known each other.

He realizes that in a sense, you are like him. Despite his stoicness, and your expressive features, his assertive aura, with your laid back vibe, both of you have an appreciation for genuine people. It makes his heart beat faster, for some inexplicable reason.

Yandere CEO who listens to you attentively as you start opening up to him more about your life. Your struggles with paying off college debt, your inability to land a higher paying job, and how you don't have enough money to pay for your rent. He already knows about all of this, but is happy nonetheless to be able to give you a comforting hug or pat on the back. One time, you actually cried and he got to feel the warmth of your tears as they raced down your face, they soaked into the skin of his palm as he wiped them away and offered you words of comfort.

Yandere CEO who abides by the law of equivalent exchange, and opens up to you more as well. He's heard before that the more imperfect you make yourself out to be, the more attractive you were for it was a sign of humanity. So what's more human than sharing his past as a bullied fat kid, and the whiplash he got once he had bulked up and attracted admirers like they were flies? Maybe it's the insomnia, the social anxiety, and the knowledge that he's surrounded by shallow people. Whatever it is, it works.

Yandere CEO who has started to feel genuinely close to you. Where before, it was akin to a celebrity having to deal with an awkward yet starstruck fan, now it felt like you two were old friends having a good time together. This is the first time he's had a relationship like this and he'd rather have his company go bankrupt and end up homeless on the streets than lose it.

September 12, 2010

[Name] is not meant for me, he is young, full of potential, and with a girl that he loves. But he tempts me with his warm eyes, beautiful smile, and those kind words of his that has had me wrapped around his finger since the very first day I met him.

It is wrong, it is dirty. I am too old, too broken, worn out like a hand me down toy. However I cannot help myself. He is like the sun, bright and comforting, yet he burns me so.

[Name]

Even just writing his name has me weak at the knees, it makes me feel alive. Like I can face the day without wanting to retreat back to my bed and refusing to get out till I am dragged by my feet. Just the idea of being able to catch a glimpse at him, gives me the energy to get up and do a marathon.

[Name] is too charming for his own good. He’s such a sweet boy, not knowing how much he tempts me to do such despicable things every single time I see him talking to customers or laughing with Carrie. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.

I should be leaving him alone, and never speaking to him again. He is fine, he is perfect, he is like God. But I am nothing but a filthy sinner who shouldn’t even be within his sights. Better kept away, far far away. But I want nothing more than to touch him, to hold his feet in my filthy hands and press my cold lips to it. His foot alone is worth more than my entire career. His life? Priceless.

However if I were to distance myself from him again, I’d become a shell. No better than a living corpse. My father and mother would be concerned for the business, and they’d keep on trying to figure out why I’m in such a state, till they eventually trace it all back to [Name], and I can’t have that. I don’t want them knowing about him. It is bad enough Carrie knows. But my own parents?

I cannot accept that. I will not share him. They would take him away from me like they took away everything else good that could’ve happened to me by being my parents and birthing into the life that I’ve led. His warmth would be engulfed in their cold gazes and harsh words, and soon he would be no better than I am, and that cannot happen.

He may not be meant for me, but I will make sure nobody else can have him.

Even that girlfriend of his.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagines #male yandere #male reader #x reader #yandere #yandere male x reader #Milan Balter #sorry i've been dead guys :)#school's been hectic #ya boy had to do a some public speaking (T_T)#anyways this was very fun #he's so pathetic #i love him

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haetrack · 8 months

Text

[03:23]

renjun x afab!reader

warnings: smut, renjun has a wet dream about you, handjob

you’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. you feel groggy, and you don’t even know why you’re awake. it’s not until you feel movement behind you, hips pushing against your backside that you realize what’s going on.

renjun is grinding against you in his sleep.

the realization causes you to still, body stiffening up. he continues his movements, and you can feel his warm breath at the back of your neck. you can feel his hands slowly making their way to your hips, a tight hold beginning to form.

you’re not really sure what to do. he’s been your best friend for quite some time, never really outright telling you that he likes you. you have to ignore how haechan tries to quickly tell you something about how renjun feels before renjun covers haechan’s mouth with a hand.

there’s a small suspicion of his feelings towards you at the back of your head. you can’t say you don’t feel the same way, you’ve always taken a liking to him, always arguing together with a smile on his face.

even if you know how you both feel, you don’t know what to do with him like this. you can feel how warm he is behind you, how your shorts have ridden up, how you can feel his hard cock in the confines of his shorts.

there was never a problem like this before. well- not really a problem, but more of a situation like this. all the times you’ve slept in the same bed together, he would try to argue against it, eventually giving up because “he can’t be bothered arguing with you.”

his grip on you is getting tighter, his cock grinding harder into your ass, quick pants against your neck. you’re beginning to feel it, too. you can feel yourself getting wet, but all you can do is squeeze your thighs together, hoping to get any stimulation.

it’s not until you hear a soft moan of your name that you decide to wake him up. you shakily pull away from him, a quiet groan leaving him as he loses the friction against him. you can properly see his face now, eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a frown.

you whisper out his name, and nothing. if you look down, you can see how his cock is twitching against his shorts. you place a hand on his shoulder and shake him lightly. to no avail, you do it once more while calling out to him.

you can feel his body wake up under your touch, stretching before he groans out loud. you watch nervously as he tries to wake up, wondering what exactly is going on.

he’s not sure why he’s awake right now, but he knows you called him and he knows it’s too early. he realizes how hot he feels, sweat at the back of his neck, wondering why he feels so gross.

it’s not until he feels himself throbbing in his shorts that he realizes what’s happening. he feels mortified. he’s hard in front of his best friend, who, not to mention, he likes. he wonders if you noticed, maybe he can just play if off and walk to your bathroom.

“renjun…” you start, and he immediately feels embarrassed, can’t help how his cock twitches at you calling his name. “i woke up and i felt you… against me…”

it’s quiet in your room save for the heavy breaths coming out of the two of you. “so you.. was i…” he breathes, not really knowing what else to say.

you nod, “yeah… you were-”

“don’t even say it. i’ll just- i’ll just go to your restroom or something,” he grumbles, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “just go back to sleep. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

before he can move away, you grab his arm, holding him in place. he shuts his eyes, refusing to look at your pretty face. “don’t go… i can help you? if you want?”

“no! i mean, no, i just… i can take of it myself. i didn’t mean for you to see me like this.” he says trailing off at the end. the thought of you helping him get off only affecting him more than he wants it to.

“please? wanna help you, you felt so nice against me, wanna feel more.” he can’t help but shudder at your words. it’s not that he doesn’t want you to help him, but he’s still fighting how embarrassed he is at the fact that he was humping his best friend in his sleep.

when he lets out a small groan, he agrees. you’re both facing each other, and in the darkness of the night, he can still see the soft smile on your face. you look nice in the hint of moonlight in your room, and he realizes that this is you he’s doing this with, you put him at ease.

your hand trails up his thigh, feeling around the soft skin before you make your way to the tight front of his shorts. his hand grabs onto your wrist before you shake him off, scolding him with your eyes. you grip his clothed cock, feeling around his length.

he moans out at your touch, already sensitive with how he was grinding against you earlier. your thumb traces his clothed tip, his hips bucking into your hand. his eyes shut again, the feeling too much for him to handle.

your hand inches to the waistband of his shorts, your hand now fully wrapped around his length. it feels so different than his own hand, so much better than what he could’ve imagined. when your hand starts moving against him, he can’t help the small moan that escapes him.

“what is it, renjun?” you say a little breathlessly.

“just feels so- fuck, good. your hand feels good.” he groans out, rushing his words out of embarrassment. it’s easy for your hand to move around his cock, the precum from his dream helping your movements. renjun can hear the slight squelch of you jerking him off, shoving his face further into the pillows.

he hates how quickly he feels like he’s about to cum. he hates how he can see your thighs squeezing together, turned on by the sight of him. he hates how badly he wants to kiss you right now.

you see how hard he’s staring at your lips, his mouth panting, almost pleading you to reach forward. you do, and renjun cups your face in his hands, deepening the kiss. you kiss each other slowly, exploring each other for the first time. while this is happening, renjun’s hips move against your hand on their own, fueled by your soft mouth.

“i’m so close. please don’t stop, oh my god.” he can hear your airy laugh, his hands moving to grip on your sides for support.

you kiss the side of his cheek, “please cum for me… wanna see you cum.”

he lets out a choked moan of your name, moving to kiss you messily as his hips buck against your hand rapidly. his body’s tired with the over exertion he’s put on it so early. it doesn’t matter though, not when you’re squeezing your hand over his length.

it’s not until you whimper out his name and rub your thumb over his slit that he cums. he’s letting out small moans and whimpers mixed up with your name. cum spills out of his tip, cock throbbing in your hold as you help him ride out his orgasm.

you laugh as he lets out an embarrassed groan, hiding his face into the pillow, “i can’t believe i did that in front of you, that’s so stupid. i’m so stupid.”

“i really liked seeing you like that, if it makes you feel better. i’m like, drenched through my panties.”

it doesn’t make him feel any better. he’s filled with the thought of your wet folds, how good you’d feel around his fingers. all because of him. he looks at your face, desperation all over.

through his embarrassment, he grumbles out, “can i… help you with that?”

a/n: don’t ask me what this was. i don’t know… i really don’t… fastest renjun thought i’ve ever had… im just gonna say it’s a little gift for 100 followers YAYYY 🫂❤️

#renjun smut #renjun x reader #renjun scenarios #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct fic

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larluce · 2 months

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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 (You're here) , PART 24

This time when Arthur gives his speech to the villagers Will doesn't interrupt him since he has no reason to doubt his motives now that he thinks Arthur is just a hired mercenary. He does share his concern that 5 mercenaries are still not enough to fight Kanen and all his men and that the villagers don't know how to fight. Arthur soon calms him telling Will that him and his men will train the men and women who are willing to fight. Merlin finds strange that Arthur it's okay with women fighting so soon, but he concludes that Arthur being closer to Morgana in this timeline maybe made him more open minded.

Hunith: (to the knights and Arthur) It's getting late. You all can sleep in my house. Is the least I can do.

Widow woman 1: Hunith! You can't have 5 men sleeping in your house. It would be improper.

Widow woman 2: And your house is not that big, hon.

Widow woman 1: (holding knight 2 by the arm) My house is bigger. You can sleep there.

Widow woman 2: Or at mine! (Moves her eyelashes to Knight 3)

Knight 2 and 3: (turn to Arthur for help) Si-boss? 😰

Arthur: (holding back a laugh) Well, we can't deny help when is so generously given. (to the widow women) If it isn't so much of a bother, ladys, can you have two of my men in each of your houses?

Widow woman 1: (to widow woman 2, whispering) He called us ladys! 😍

Widow woman 2: (whispers back)I know! 🥰 (to Arthur) We are more than happy to help.

Arthur: Excelent! (to the knights) Now you have where to stay while we are here.

Leon: And where will you stay, Si-I mean, boss?

Arthur: I'll stay at my manse-I mean, at my employer's house. (to Hunith) Only if your offer is still up, of course, lovely Hunith.

Hunith: (giggles) You are more than welcome.

Widow women: (each one take two knights and start leaving)

Knights: (as they leave) Wait! Si-boss! Boss!😭 (and they are gone)

Merlin: (hits Arthur's arm and gives him a look)

Arthur: Ow! What?

Merlin: (pulls Arthur by the arm and takes him away away so his mother doesn't listen) You are a mercenary, remember? You are not supposed to be this nice and well behaved!

Arthur: Will you prefer me to be rude?

Merlin: No, but you don't have to act all princely!

Arthur: I don't know how to act any other way! I've been a prince all my life if you haven't notice.

Merlin: You'll have to make an effort then. You can start... (picks up an ax nearby and gives it to Arthur smiling) By getting us some wood.

Arthur: (takes the ax, confused) What?

Merlin: Yep. Lots of it. Nights here are cold.

Arthur: That's not my job.

Merlin: (smile widening) Well, since I'm your employer now it is. (taps Arthur's back) Don't be late. (leaves and once he is far away enough he laughs)

Time skip. In Merlin's house. Merlin and Hunith preparing the food.

Arthur: (enters with lumps of wood, exhausted) Here's the wood.

Hunith: (goes to Arthur) Oh, thank you so much, dear. (takes the lumps) You didn't have to.

Arthur: (smiles) Don't worry. (gives Merlin a look) It was my pleasure.

Merlin: Yes, mom. Arthur is used to hard work. He is a mercenary after all.

Arthur: (Kills Merlin with his eyes)

Hunith: I'll start the fire. (about to do so)

Merlin: No, Mom. Let Arthur do it.

Hunith: But he already spent all afternoon getting the wood!

Merlin: And you preparing the food. Besides, I'm paying him VERY generously. This is just part of the service. Right, Arthur?

Arthur: (thinking) You are gonna have so many chores when we are back in Camelot , I swear. (says to Hunith, smiling) Of course, is no problem.

Since Merlin is actually a nice person he only lets Arthur struggle for a bit before he uses magic to make a spark. Merlin knows Arthur wouldn't be able to do it himself otherwise. Arthur obviously knows he didn't make the fire, but he stills acts like he's very proud of his work.

Merlin has to give Arthur some credit though. He eats all the food this time and he even compliments it. He also thanks his mother for every nice gesture she has. It's almost like he wants her approval or something. But Merlin just thinks, since he is supposed to be a mercenary, Arthur just doesn't want to show he is used to better luxuries.

At night. Arthur and Merlin sleeping on the floor side by side.

Arthur: It must be hard to sleep on the floor again after having such a nice bed in Camelot.

Merlin: (laughs a little) Not really. Camping outside is not so different from this and we do that a lot.

Arthur: Was it hard? Living like this. (thinking) Living with this people hiding your magic constantly?

Merlin: No actually. I didn't know any different. Life is simple out here. You eat what you grow and everyone pitches in together. As long as you've food on the table and a roof over your head, you're happy.

Arthur: It sounds nice.

Merlin: You'd hate it.

Arthur: No, I wouldn't.

Merlin: (turns to Arthur, confused) Uhm?

Arthur: I love Camelot more than I can say, but when I'm there, sometimes I feel I can't hardly breath, everyone expects so much of me... But here with you I can be myself.

Merlin: But you're pretending to be a mercenary.

Arthur: You know what I mean. Here nobody knows who I am. Even if I failed to protect then, they wouldn't hold it against me. Princes and Kings can't afford to fail. As a mercenary however, my human mistakes would be just that, human mistakes.

Merlin: You won't fail.

Arthur: Of course I won't. My employer is paying me very generously.

Merlin: You are going to make me pay once we are back, aren't you?

Arthur: (yawns) You have no idea. (yawns again and puts his arms around Merlin,closing his eyes)

Merlin: Wha-What are you doing? 😳 (tries to free himself)

Arthur: It's cold and you're warm (pulls Merlin closer)

Merlin: What are your talking about? The fire is there. Arthur!

Arthur: Shut up and sleep. (falls asleep)

Merlin: (stays still for a moment, but soon snuggles and falls asleep too)

The next day Hunith finds them snuggled together and she is not surprised at all.

Hunith: Rise and shine you lazy dasies! Breakfast is ready.

Arthur: (still half asleep) Ugh, can't you think of anything new to say, Merlin?

Merlin: (waking up abruptly) MOM! 😳(pushes Arthur away from him inmediatly and stands up, very red)

Arthur: (ends to wake up suddenly and stands up, also blushing) Good morning, Hunith.😅 (smiles nervously)

Hunith: So... my son has woke you up before using my phrases it seems. And very frequently.

Merlin: It's not what you think!

Hunith: Really? Because what I think is that this (points Arthur) is prince Arthur of Camelot and that's why you always wake him up in the mornings.

Merlin: Oh... then yes, it's exactly what you think.

Arthur: How did you figure it out?

Hunith: You have too much manners for a mercenary, dear. Your men too. And handsome with blue eyes and blond hair? You are the spitting image of a Prince.

Merlin: Don't call him handsome. It'll go up his head.

Hunith: (hits Merlin's arm)

Merlin: Ow! What was that for?

Hunith: (scolding) You've been ordering the Prince around after he came all this way to help you! How could you?

Merlin: I didn't ask him to come, he invited himself! And this whole mercenary thing was his idea!

Hunith: That speaks volumes of how close you are. (To Arthur) Thank you so much for looking after my son and for what your are doing for Ealdor. You must forgive my boy, he was always very mischievous. When he was 8 there were some kids older than him that wouldn't stop bothering him so one day he hided their clothes when they were taking a bath in the river to force them to walk around the village naked.

Merlin: Mom!

Arthur: (A smile of disbelief on his face) Really?

Hunith: And not content with that, he made sure the girls they liked didn't miss the show. Poor boys, I wasn't overfond of them, but all the girls made fun of them so much they didn't go out of their homes for a month.

Arthur: (laughs having the time of his life) Oh, gods. I didn't know this side of you Merlin.

Merlin: (very red) I didn't... It was Will's idea.

Hunith: Oh, but you were very happy to help, weren't you?

Arthur: Do you have any other story, Hunith? I would love to hear them.

Merlin: No!

Hunith: Of course. I can tell you over breakfast.

Arthur and Hunith: (sit to have breakfast)

Merlin: (to the sky) Gods, have mercy on me!

Later, Arthur orders Leon and Sir Innprudence to organize sentry duty while he and the other two Knights train the women and men of the village. Merlin is surprised even Will trains, proving again that all his problem with Arthur was the fact he was a prince. Merlin can't help but notice that Arthur is harder on Will that anybody else though, but he doesn't think much of it. As expected, Will also questions him why he decided to bring these mercenaries instead of using his magic. Merlin just tells him he didn't want to expose himself infront of people that may see him as a mosnter even after he helps them. Merlin also assures Will he will use his magic to help if necessary, so he doesn't worry.

Will: (goes to Merlin after a hard day training) Merlin?

Merlin: Yeah?

Will: You are paying this mercenary leader... with money, right?

Merlin: (confused) How else would I pay him?

Will: (sighs in relief) Oh, thank the gods!

Merlin: Are you alright?

Will: Pal, mate, I hate to be the one to say this to you, but that mercenary has a thing for you.

Merlin: That's not funny, Will.

Will: I'm not joking. He is always looking at you funny and kills me with his eyes if I very much as touch you.

Merlin: He's quite protective of me is true, but that's all.

Will: (not convinced) If you say so... (changes the subject) Skivvying for a prince must pay really well if you can afford this kind of service.

Merlin: No, I wouldn't say I'm his skivvy. (looks Arthur and his Knights are aproaching in the distance and raises his voice so they hear him) It's actually worse than that.

Will: Really?

Merlin: That Prince has such stinky feet, I swear, and I had to clean his socks every day. But no matter how much I wash them, some of the smell always stays there.

Knights: (look at Arthur)

Arthur: (turns red with embarrasment and fury)

Merlin: And since I'm the one who dresses him, because of course he doesn't even know how to dress himself, who do you think has to put those socks on those stinky feet every single day.

Will: What a nightmare. At least you have your own room.

Merlin: And at what cost! My room is next to his which means everynight I have to wake up at the sound of the loudest farts I ever heard.

Sir Innpertinence: (lets out a laugh without being able to help it)

Knight 2: (hits him) Don't laugh! It's our Prince he's talking about.

Leon: (patting Arthur's back) Don't worry, Sire. Everyone has digestion problems.

Arthur: (goes to Merlin, furious)

Merlin: And don't even get me started with-

Arthur: (puts an arm around Merlin tightly and forces a smile to Will) Excuse me, I have to discuss something with my dear employer privately. (leaves pulling Merlin forcely with him)

Merlin: (manages to free himself once they are far from the knights and Will) Ow! What's your problem? 😡

Arthur: I should be the one asking you! What the hell was that? Ordering me around is one thing. But this? You're slandering me! 😡

Merlin: (crosses his arms, defiant) Oh, just like you slandered me infront of your knights?

Arthur: When did I ever do that?

Merlin: Just before coming here! You made me look like an interested lover! 😡

Arthur: That's hardly as offensive as what you said about me!

Merlin: (shouts) Well, for me it's just as bad!

Arthur: ...

Merlin: What?

Arthur: (kind of hurt) Do you... really consider the idea of being with me so disgusting?

Merlin: (confused) What?

Arthur: (embarrased, avoiding Merlin's eyes) I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that way (thinking) Gods! How did I get everything wrong? (says) I won't do those kind of comments again.

Merlin: (notices he hurt Arthur's feelings without meaning to, feeling bad) Arthur-

Arthur: I have to go with my knig-I mean my mercenary men, yeah. (thinking) And find somewhere to cry. (about to leave)

Merlin: Arthur, wait! (grabs him by the arm)

Arthur: (still not looking at him) Merlin, it's fine. If I made you uncomfortable-

Merlin: You clotpole! I'm not saying I don't like being your lover!

Arthur: (finally turns to look at him)... What? 😧

Merlin: (lets go of him abruptly, very red) I mean... if I were, which I'm not, or if anyone was, it wouldn't be unpleasant to be with you. Occupying the role of your lover, I mean. Well, I won't deny that I've always considered that role degrading for the maidens and an abuse of authority on the part of the nobles, but that is only because they are idiots. I mean, you're an idiot too, but not that kind of idiot. You are honorable and you would respect and care for your lover if you had one, which you don't, precisely because you are too honorable to do something like that to a woman and you always care about the well-being of everyone, so much you're even helping a peasant to protect his mother and his village when you don't have to. What I really mean is that it wouldn't be bad to be your lover hypothetically speaking.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: It's not the "lover" part I hate, but the "interested" part! You made it seem like I'm only interested in your money, your influence, and your title of prince when that's never been the case! Have I ever asked you for anything? The new clothes, the new chambers, the horse? No! You decided to give me those things on your own! For which I'm thankful, yes, but that's not the reason I'm with you! (Realises his choice of words and adds) As your friend and servant that is.

Arthur: Hold on, let me get this straight. Is not the idea of being my lover that bothers you, but that they think you are my lover out of interest rather than out of love?

Merlin: (stuttering, nervous) Wh-Who talked about love?

Arthur: Well, if you're telling me you wouldn't be my lover out of interest, that means you would be my lover out of love. 😏

Merlin: No! I said if anyone was your lover-

Arthur: Which includes you.

Merlin: I never included myself! 😠

Arthur: You did actually. Twice.

Merlin: No, I didn't.

Arthur: Yes, you did.

Merlin: No, I didn't! 😡 You arrogant pompous prat! You would be lucky if anyone likes you! (Leaves)

Arthur: (just follows Merlin with his eyes until he's out of sight, smiling his heart out)

Time skip. Another day. Hunith talking with Merlin at their home.

Hunith: He cares for you great deal.

Merlin: Arthur would do the same for any village. That's just the way he is.

Hunith: It's more than that. He's here for you.

Merlin: I'm just his servant.

Hunith: Is that really all you are?

Merlin: What?

Hunith: He disguised himself as a mercenary and brought his knights to defend this village at the risk of starting a war between kingdoms, which means risking his own people. Not only that, but he lets you order him and the knights around when you are 'just his servant'.

Merlin: To keep the facade!

Hunith: Give him more credit than that. He likes you, Merlin. And not as just his servant.

Merlin: That's because he doesn't know me. And if he did I'd probably be dead by now.

Hunith: You don't really believe that, do you?

Merlin: (turns very serious)... No, no I don't really believe it. He would be mad at me for a while at best or banish me at worst, but he wouldn't kill me. Arthur is not his father, he doesn't kill just for the sake of killing. He's fair and kind. And yes, I'm aware he sees me as more than a servant. I'm his confident, his friend, he relays on me... And that's the problem.

Hunith: What do you mean?

Merlin: He may not be like Uther, but that doesn't change the fact that Uther is his father and his King. By revealing him who I really am I'll be putting him in an horrible position. Is not the right time now.

Hunith: What do you mean 'now'? You're planning on telling him someday?

Merlin: ...

Hunith: Merlin! You can't do that! It's-

Merlin: Dangerouse, I know. But I'm tired of not being able to be myself, not even with my friends. And when I finally got a friend that accepted me as I was you sent me away!

Hunith: Merlin...

Merlin: I know why you did it. My "gift" was getting too out of control and thanks to Gaius now I can wield it as I please. But that doesn't change the fact that you never gave me the choice. Nobody ever gave me the choice over my life and always decided what was best for me theirselfs. You, Gaius, the damn dragon-

Hunith: A dragon?! 😨

Merlin: What I trying to say is... Arthur means a lot to me, mom. More than you can imagine. And I want at least that decision, of me telling him, to be mine.

Hunith: (holds his hands in a motherly way) I think I have an idea. I've seen how much he needs you, how much you need him. You are like-

Merlin: Two sides of the same coin? Yes, someone told me that before.

Hunith: So I'll trust your jugdment and whoever you decide to tell from now on (smiles and puts a hand on his chest) When you left you were just a boy, now look at you. I'm so proud of you. (kisses his forehead).

Merlin: (thinking) You also have your other side of a coin. Gods, I want to tell you where he is so bad. But how will I explain how I know? It was difficult enough to explain how I knew about Kanen's attack before you went to Camelot. And what if this changes what's ahead to worst? What if I end up risking your life? So I can't tell you. I'm so sorry. But I'll bring dad home as soon as I can, I promise.

Arthur: (who secretly heard the whole conversation, finally enters with wood and some dead bunnies he hunted) I brought food! 😊

Hunith: (goes to him, smiling brightly) Oh, son, you didn't have to.

Merlin: (incredulous) Son? 🤨

Hunith: Well, he sleeps under my roof, I feed him, he helps in the house and he's so close to you he may as well be. (to Arthur, taking the bunnies) I'll prepare these while Merlin makes the fire.

Arthur: Nonsense, I'll make the fire.

Hunith: Are you sure?

Arthur: Yeah, I think I'm getting the handle of it.

Hunith: Well, if you insist (gives Merlin a significant look) I'm sure you'll light it quicker this time.

Merlin: (thinking, very confused) What the fuck is happening?

Finally Kanen and his men arrive and they are ready. There's the fire trap Merlin remembers, but also others than Merlin doesn't recall like hided wood spears in the ground. Also Arthur makes a risky move by making the women wait for Kanen and his men outside and act like they were abandoned and stolen by the "mercenaries" that were supposed to help them. They even cry when they tell Kanen their husbands and sons were killed and they were left with nothing, to please have mercy on them and their little girls.

Kanen: Will you look at that. (From his horse, smiles evilly) It's our lucky day guys! We won't have harvest, but we sure gonna have some fun.

Raiders: (from their horses, celebrate)

Women: (in group cower in place)

Kanen: (spots Hunith) I remember you sweetheart. We'll have such a great time together. (To his men) Get whoever you like. This one is mine.

Raiders and Kanen: (get of their horses and aproach the women)

Arthur: (from a hidden place) Fire.

Some raiders: (are set on fire)

Merlin: (subtly makes the fire get to more raiders with his magic)

Kanen: (Gets away just in time) What the- 😨

Horses: (run in fear from the fire)

Some raiders: (try to get the horses)

Arthur: Spears

Some raiders: (get injured on the spears that suddenly appear while trying to get their horses)

Women: (fight the burned or injured man without mercy with the weapons they have hided in their clothes or nearby them)

Kanen: (to his men, especially the ones who didn’t get in either fire or spear trap, furious) What are you waiting for? ATTACK!

All raiders: (run furious to attack the women)

Men of the village: (come out of his hidden place led by Arthur and the knights and attack too)

Arthur: (fights a raider and runs him through, thinking) 294.

Merlin: (heates a raider's sword so he drops it and slies him)

Arthur: (smirks him) Not bad. (Opens his eye wide) Look out! (Slies a man that was about to attack Merlin from behind) Pay more attention.

Merlin: Sorry. (crosses swords with another raider and makes him trip with his magic, making the raider stab himself with his own sword)

Arthur: (cuts some raider's throat and shouts at Merlin) Don't lower your guard and stay close to me! (Fights another raider)

Sir Innprudence: (disarms a raider and pushes him to the ground, about to kill him, but doubts cause it's dishonorable to kill and unarmed man)

Raider: (takes advantage he's distracted, kicks him and stands up, taking Innprudence's sword)

Leon: (appears from behind the raider and kills him with his sword before he can do that) What are you doing? These men have anything but honor. Knight code don't apply to them.

Sir Innprudence: Sorry.

Arthur: (yells) Innprudence! (Punches a raider) Make sure the women are put to safety. They already did their part, we can manage.

Sir Innprudence: Yes, boss! (Goes to do that)

Kanen: (recognises the "mercenaries" and points at them) Kill them! Once they're gone these farmers won't have any hope. (Spots Arthur) And I think I know who the leader is. (Goes to Arthur)

Merlin: (watches Kanen, alert and ready to use his magic if Arthur needs it)

Kanen and Arthur: (insert brief sword fight)

Kanen: (notices with panic most of his men flee so he is outnumbered)

Atthur: (makes him trip, about to run him through)

Kanen: (quickly blinds Arthur with dirt and runs)

Arthur: (brings a hand to his eyes) This mother-

Merlin: Arthur!

Arthur: I'm fine.

Merlin: I know, you dollophead. But look! They left they all left.

Indeed all the raiders have gone and the villagers were celebrating their victory.

Merlin: (celebrates like everyone in the village) We win! (turns to Arthur) Arthur, we win! (his smile fades when he notices Arthur stares blankly where Kanen is leaving, still not completely out of sight) Arthur?

Arthur: 290.

Merlin: (confused) What?

Arthur: Is not enough. (runs to his horse)

Merlin: Wait! Where are you going? Arthur? Arthur!

Knights: (just as concerned) Sire? Sire!

Arthur: (gets on his horse and leaves)

Merlin: (shouts) Arthur! (runs to his mare) Come on, Princess. (gets on his mare and leaves to)

Knights: (do the same)

Will: (To Hunith) Did they just call him "Sire"?

Soon Arthur catches Kanen and inmovilises him on the ground, poiting him with his blade.

Arthur: (furious, yelling) Where's the rest? Where do you hide? Tell me!

Kanen: (very terrified) They abondoned me! You did a hell of a job, I won't go to that village again, I swear!

Arthur: I don't believe you! (breaks his arm and Kanen screams in agony) WHERE ARE THEY?!

Merlin: (arrives) Arthur! (gets off his mare quickly and runs to him) What do you think you are doing?! It's over! My mom is safe. Ealdor is safe. There's no need for this!

Arthur: (doesn't turn and keeps looking at Kanen, still a deadly expression on his face)

Merlin: (getting even more worried) Arthur? (thinking) What's going on?

Arthur: (coldly) Is not enough.

Merlin: What are you talking about? You did more than enough!

Kanen: (desparate) Listen to the boy-AGH!

Arthur: (twists his injured arm)

Merlin: ... Arthur?😰

Arthur: Tell me or I'll cut it off!

Kanen: (Cries in more agony)

Merlin: Arthur, you are scaring me.

Arthur: (still doesn't turn, but for the first time his expression is conflicted, he doesn't want to scare Merlin, but he needs to do this for Merlin)

Merlin: Arthur!

Arthur: I... I have to save you. I need...

Merlin: (desparate) And you did! I'm here and I'm fine.

Arthur: Not enough.

Merlin: It is enough! (holds him from behind) Arthur, is enough. Let him go. Please! Please...

Arthur: (softens his expression and considers sparing Kanen)

Kanen: (goes for his dagger with his left hand)

Arthur: (notices and cuts his throat with his sword) Too slow.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: (turns to him) He was going for his dagger.

Merlin: I know.

Arthur: And he was the leader, with him dead there's no more threat.

Merlin: I know. I'm just not... used to this. (thinking) Of you acting like this. I don't care Kanen is dead. I would've killed him myself after all the things he said to my mother. And I know you've killed people before. I shouldn't be this disturbed. But something... something is not right. I can't tell what, but something is very off and it scares me.

Arthur: (thinking) How weird. He's not used to seeing people die yet? But he killed Sophia without a problem. Is this because Kanen was human? (says) Gods, you are shaking. Come here. (hugs him) I'm sorry you had to see that.

Merlin: (hugs back and tries to light the mood more for his sake than Arthur's) Not a girl then?

Arthur: (laughs a little and pats his back with comfort) Not today. You were very brave. (pulls him closer)

Sir Innprudence: (standing a few meters away) They still don't notice we are here, right?

Knight 2: Nop.

Knight 3: Shall we...?

Leon: (shakes his head) In a minute. Let them have their moment.

Sir Innprundence: But... there's a corpse there...😰

Leon: In a minute I said 😡.

...

There's still a bit more of this episode, but the post was getting too long, so I'll leave it at this point for now.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin #merlin prompt #merthur fic #merlin and arthur #arthur and merlin #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU #merthur fanfiction #merthur prompt #merthur fanfic

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writinandcrying · 9 months

Text

TMNT HEADCANONS - Taking naps with the turtles / having a sleepy S/O

As someone who has accidentally slept for 23 hours straight and literally has a nickname as “snooze” I’m obligated to do this (I tried to look for a cute / aesthetic gift but that pup is my spirit animal fr)

I’ve been digging how @oozedninjas does their Headcanons (as long with their writing, I seriously eat it up everytime yum yum yum)

as much as I love looooong Headcanons, sometimes I only have some blurbs going on in my mind, I also think this keeps things so dynamic, every interaction can be seen and everyone is happy yipee (I hope you don’t mind me using your writing style? Headcanon Set-up? Layout? as reference! Pls let me know if so, I’ll def take it out or reference you on new ones!)

English is not my first language and I didn’t proof read this, if there is any gramatical erros pls don’t hesitate to tell me!

• Isn’t the one for naps, lowkey thinks it’s a waste of time, he rather do activities with you! Time is precious! That being your hobbies or his, talking, playing games or reading, he has his mind set on it… until you flutter your lashes at him, giving him puppy eyes, and suddenly at the warm of your embrace, the way you hum over his plastron, how cute and serene you look… he starts questions himself, why haven’t you two done this sooner?

2003, 2012, Rottmnt Donnie

2003, MM Raph

2003, MM Mikey

All Leo’s (minus MM and rise) lmao

• Has been waiting for it. Since you two have been officially a thing, he has been patiently waiting for it. wants to do nap dates, casual napping after Sunday lunches, accidentally napping from watching a boring film, coming home late and you are tired? Lay on top of him babe, let him will take care of you 🫶🏼 adores the innocence of holding you close, caressing your skin as you caress him back, finally admiring your features while you sleep, he longs for it, absolutely eats it up

MM AND ROTTMNT LEO !!

2007, 2012, ROTTMNT, Bayverse Mikey (keeping bayverse and 2012 still would be A Task (but anyways BOTH WANTS IT) 2007 is probably tired all the time bc of his gigs lol)

Bayverse, ROTTMNT RAPH !!!!

2007 and 2003 Donnie

• How come you are always this sleepy? This doesn’t make sense, something has to be wrong with your vitamins levels, have you been sleeping at night? Are you having nightmares? What kind of meds are you taking? Your sleep schedule and how you can just simply fall asleep everywhere is astonishingly worrisome, he will look into it

Take a wild guess (all versions)

Doctor feelings

• HE is the who Needs a nap. Drag him to his bed. Hold him close, put ambient music, kiss him softly and don’t let go.

2007 Leo, Future!Rottmnt Leo

2003, 2007, Future!Rottmnt DONNIE !

Future!rottmnt and Last Ronin Mikey

Future!Rottmnt, bayverse, 2007 Raph

Everyone in IDW-TMNT

Not a turtle, but Rottmnt Casey Jones

• can’t take naps (light sleeper or doesn’t want to mess their sleeping schedule) but enjoys you being by his side anyways, will give a dirty look to whoever makes loud noises next to you, tries to always save the most comfortable spots for you on movie nights, he knows you are bound to fall asleep. will takes embarrassing pics of you tho

Take another wild guess (all versions)

And another one (all versions as well)

Mm Donnie

#tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #2003 tmnt #mm tmnt Headcanons #tmnt headcanons #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt fandom #rottmnt fandom #tmnt 2007 #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt leo #donnie tmnt #tmnt donatello #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt mikey

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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 23 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You think that maybe you’ve gotten off easy for the night, when the two of you practically doze together in the warm tub, the hot water up to your necks. You are endlessly relieved, when you feel him relax behind you, possibly even asleep. You daren’t look, not wanting to disturb him, afraid of what he might dream up next if you rub him just the wrong way.

You can still hardly believe that your relationship has come to this.

The water has started to cool by the time he stirs, kissing behind your ear with a tenderness that fills your heart with a stupid hope, his arm like a band of iron around your waist. “Will you wash me?” There is a softness, damn near vulnerability in this request, and you nod, knowing you cannot refuse.

It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself too.

You lather up with artisan soap that smells like sandalwood, sliding your hands over the contours of his skin. He tilts his head back, seemingly content, and you hope he will remain like this, passive as a sleeping leopard. Maybe he’ll be ready to snooze after this, and you’ll survive the night.

You try to avoid the area between his legs, but when his lips curl in a wicked little smile your heart skips a beat. “That’s especially dirty,” he tells you through a smirk, as though amused that you thought you might get away scot free.

He should count himself lucky, that you are gentle as you run your soapy hand over the bulge of his heavy sac. Then you are alarmed—and impressed—to find him rock hard again.

So much for your old man jokes.

“Jesus, what are you, fourteen?” you snipe, hoping to cover the state of your own frustrated arousal. Running your hands up and down his thick shaft does not help you at all.

He actually chuckles at that. “You do make me feel young again…not that young, luckily.”

You find yourself exploring him a few more strokes that what is necessary, just for you, because you like the feeling of him in your hand. He grumbles with approval, his eyes half closed. Then because it only seems fair you stop suddenly. “See how you like it.”

You try to slip away, but quick as lightning he grabs you up, water sloshing over the side of the tub. A playful scream escapes you, and his smile is like a baring of teeth. There is a dangerous glitter in his dark eyes that takes your breath away, even as you know you’re doomed.

You shouldn’t play with this man. There must be something missing in your brain, that makes you keep pulling his tail.

“My turn,” he says, perching you on his knees, reaching for the soap.

At first, he really does just wash you, running those strong hands over your body, and it’s all you can do not to melt. But then his focus keeps returning to your breasts, your soft globes floating at the waterline.

Men.

“I think they’re clean…”

“Not for long.” He rolls your nipples between his fingers and you whimper, that ache between your legs that never really went away returning with a vengeance. Somehow, you know begging him to stop will only make it worse.

“You should sit up here,” you tell him, tapping on the edge of the tub, and just for a moment you think you may have succeeded in fogging his brain just enough to make him forget he always has to be the boss. He looks at you with intrigue—and suspicion.

“Why?”

“Because I want you in my mouth.”

It’s a little funny, as you watch him war with himself, trying to weigh what exactly you’re up to against his desire to put his cock between your lips. You already know it was on his mind earlier. The remnants of that spicy surprise in your mouth from earlier have faded. In the end, the promise of a blow job wins.

It always does.

Almost warily he lifts himself out of the tub, perching on the edge so you can reach him. His big hand fists in your damp hair at the back of your neck. “No teeth,” he warns you.

You make a pouty lip, watching as his gaze turns to your mouth with laser-focus. “Not even a little?” you tease. “Just lightly, on this big beautiful vein?” You trace it with your thumb, your hand dwarfed by the size of his erection in your little fist.

“Fuck. Woman…”

You take that as a yes, and swirl your tongue over his swollen head, before taking him as deep as you can. You actually enjoy giving head, when it’s an act of love, and not a chore in exchange for a boy’s affection, the way it was in your teens. This is…somewhere in between, truth be told, but you give it your all. You can tell by the way John grips your hair, guiding your rhythm upon him, that you haven’t lost your touch. Your jaw starts to ache, and you are relieved when he gives a strangled moan, pulling you off by your hair. He takes himself in hand, pumping himself two or three times before cumming all over your breasts, thick white ropes that paint your chest with hot seed.

Maybe you don’t get it, but the sight of you marked like this makes his eyes burn like low banked coals.

He actually lets you slip from his grasp, floating away to rinse the evidence of his enjoyment from your skin. He continues to watch you, as you get out of the tub, and dry off with one of the plushy soft towels.

He only catches up when you try to go to the closet for pajamas, sweeping you up into his arms and depositing you in the bed. You can’t help but feel like you won the round, when he tangles you up in his long bare limbs, and promptly falls asleep behind you.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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withoutyouimsaskia · 7 months

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

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

Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

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