#at first I thought I didn’t but I kept replaying his voice lines in my head 🙈

[candyheartedchy]

I like the scheming cat!

[calypsocolada]

MOTIVATION | y. itadori

synopsis: yuji thinks back about what really has been motivating him... author's note: hi <3 this story was requested by @smsm22! thanks so much for your request and I hope you enjoy!!! might fuck around and write a part two... cw: not proofread, some violence and blood, fluff, fem reader wc: 3.1k

click here for my masterlist

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There’s something special about motivation. Something that keeps people on the right track. Keeps them in line, keeps them learning. Every single person has something that keeps them motivated. Keeps them moving and chugging along. Finding that something isn’t as easy.

Itadori’s motivation had been black and white. He wanted to save people. To keep people safe. Easy. Succinct. To the point. He wasn’t much one for complicating things. He liked it that way. You’d been helping him train for some weeks now, helping him with his cursed energy. Teaching him how to fight and not only win but maybe get through a fight unscathed. But the one that you always said to him was that he lacked the right motivation. The kind that kept your heart beating when the rest of you was too tired and beat up to move. The motivation that was worth fighting for. He’d asked what yours was and you had said your family. That one of your cousins was killed by a curse and you’d fight to make sure your family never felt the pain of a loss like that ever again. He racked his brain night and day to find something that you’d accept. Sometimes he replayed a single moment in his head whilst training and fighting. And that’s when it finally clicked.

~

He was running late to class. He almost always was. He’d visit his grandpa in the morning and always get sidetracked talking with the nurses on his way out. So he was running, barely dodging most of the people in his path. He could see the front door of the school, he picked up his pace and just as he took a long stride up the stairs you stepped in his way. Itadori gasped, slamming unceremoniously into you. But you didn’t go down because his hands flew to grab your shoulders, it was a clumsy act but it got the job done. He’d prevented you from being taken down with him as he sprawled out onto the grass. He laid there for a moment stunned and dazed. 

“God! Are you okay?” You rushed for him. Slowly Itadori rolled over in the grass, the front of his white shirt stained green. He gave you a thumbs up from the ground and let his rattling brain calm for a moment. “You’re fast,” You stated and when Itadori raised his head slightly you had this amused look on your face. But beyond that it hit him that you were most likely the prettiest girl he’d probably ever seen in his entire life. He was speechless. Actually speechless. His lips parted but there wasn’t a single coherent thought in that brain of his besides two words. Beautiful girl. It sounded like an alarm in his brain, red and blaring as a smile fitted to your lips. “Are you okay?” You had asked again. Itadori blinked, mouth dry as he slowly nodded his head. You stepped closer, reaching out a hand. “I messed up your shirt.” You remarked as he reached and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet. Your hand was soft and cold, a stark difference from your sharp and warm eyes. When standing to his full height he was just about an inch or two taller than you, he wasn’t sure why but he liked that.

“I’m Yuji.” He said quickly, as though he wouldn’t get the chance. You looked up at him, that same smile fitting your lips. 

“Yuji… I’m Y/n.” You answered. Itadori’s cheeks blushed profusely, first at the eye contact and next at the way your voice rasped on his name. He didn’t think he’d ever want to hear his name again unless it was spoken from your lips. Your name swum in his head as you reached and tucked your hair behind your ears. 

“I haven’t seen you around school.” I would’ve noticed you if you had, he’d said in his mind.

“I don’t go here, I was just… visiting a friend.” You said, a gentle breeze blowing your hair. 

“Oh… I’m Yuji by the way.” He said nervously. He watched a laugh bubble from your lips as you giggled. 

“Yes, you already told me that.” You said. Itadori’s face went beet red. 

“Right! I did… Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I won’t forget it now.” You joked, tapping the side of your head. “Yuji.” You added. His knees went weak. 

“Y/n!” A voice called from the bottom of the stairs. You both turned, there was a boy standing at the bottom of the stairs Itadori didn’t recognize. Black spiky hair, lips turned down in a frown. “Come on.” He beckoned to you as you waved to him. 

“Sorry, gotta go.” You smiled. “Take care, Yuji. And try not to slam into any more unsuspecting girls.” You called over your shoulder as you walked towards the other boy.

“Bye.” Itadori responded softly as he watched you ruffle the other boy's hair, walking off with him. 

Itadori expected to never see you again. He’d gone through each class like the five stages of grief. In English he was in denial that it had even happened, that maybe he’d hit his head too hard on the ground. In math he was frustrated that he hadn’t asked for your number. In gym class he wondered if he’d racked up enough good karma to trade it in for a glimpse of you again. At lunch he ate in silence as his friend laughed and joked around him, his thoughts about you and how you were probably dating that boy that had called out to you. By the end of the day he’d accepted that was probably the first and last time he’d see you and that sat like a stone in the pit of his stomach.

“Who’s that?” Megumi asked as you jogged down the stairs towards him. 

“Arch nemesis, every girl needs one.” You joke, reaching and ruffling the frowning boy's hair. Megumi glowers at you as he pushes your hand away to fix his hair. 

“We're after a cursed object and you’re out flirting.” He grumbles as you scoff out a laugh.

“I was not flirting.”

“Was pink hair aware of that?” Megumi questions as you roll your eyes.

“Come on, grumpy, let’s check around the back.” 

After a bit of searching you were called back to the school as Megumi stayed behind, claiming he had a feeling that the object was still somewhere near the school. You talked with Gojo for a bit, did some homework, had a shower and was nice and tucked into bed when your phone started ringing off the hook. You jumped at the sound, only because it was Megumi’s ringtone and that boy hated to call, he’d always preferred sending cryptically short texts.

“Megumi?” You answered. There was a bit of rustling, then some yelling. “Megumi?” You asked again just before the line went dead. You immediately recalled his number, pressing the speaker button as you clicked on his location. The line rang and rang and went to voicemail just as his location finally loaded. He was still at that school. It was late, too late for him to be there still. You jumped out of bed, grumbling as you pulled on some clothes and sneakers, busting out of your dorm, hair still wet from your shower. You shot a text to Gojo as you hopped into a taxi. 

Ten minutes later you were pulling into the school and the closer you got the more you felt this aching sense of dread. Even more apparent as you exited the car and broke off into a run. You felt the cursed energy spewing in droves all over this school and wondered how in the world you hadn’t felt this earlier. It was almost suffocating. 

You shouldered open the front door, the energy pressing into you as you ran towards the commotion a few floors up. 

“Megumi?” You yelled out, as a few smaller curses bumbled their way towards you. You took them out with ease, continuing up the steps, your sneakers squeaking on the tile flooring. When you finally got to the roof you spotted something big and imposing just outside the window, you heard yelling and spotted Megumi’s spiky hair. You blew out a breath, shouldering open the roof door into pure chaos. Megumi turned at the sound, his eyes finding you as you took in the scene. Not only was he here but the boy with the pink hair from earlier was here as well, blood on the side of his forehead. 

“Y/n! Take this!” Megumi yelled and with no prior warning tossed something small and weighty towards you. “Take it and run!” You caught the thing, it was cold and purple and disgusting. It was… a finger? 

“What the fuck?” You gasped as the curse Megumi had been fighting roared with anger, eyes now set on you. Whatever the thing was you shoved your way back towards the door only for the curse to shoot out and grab you midstep, yanking you hard towards its mouth. With both your arms pinned in its grasp you screamed in terror, unable to use your technique. “I was tucked in bed you asshole!” You growled at Megumi as the curse dragged you right past him, the finger in your possession tumbled from your grasp, falling onto the concrete. For a split second you met eyes with the pink haired boy as he sprinted, swiping the finger from the ground, holding it up for the curse to see. 

“I have it! Let her go!” He yelled desperately. The curse paused, directing its attention to him before tossing you backwards and gunning for him. You hit the concrete hard, sliding and tumbling to a stop, dazed. You felt a wet hot streak of blood fall from the side of your forehead, and as you tried to push to your feet you blacked out. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey… you alright? Please wake up, I do not want to carry you off this roof!” Your eyes slowly fluttered open, your head aching as Megumi came into view. He blew out a sigh of relief sitting back on his heels as Gojo just beside him blew out a scoff of laughter. 

“I don’t think you could carry her if you tried, kid.” He jested as Megumi shot him a look. Slowly you sat up.

“What happened?” You asked, voice rough. 

“Well… that’s a long story. Come on, we need to get going.” Megumi says as he helps you to your feet. 

“W-wait… where’s that boy?” You asked as Megumi pointed. You turned to see Gojo holding the pinked haired boy on his back, the boy was unconscious. You hearted lurched.

“He’s fine… well… fine enough.” Megumi says as you furrow your brows, following Gojo off the roof. 

“What happened?”

“He ate that cursed finger.”

“He ate that thing?” You echoed.

“Uh huh.” “Yep.” Both Megumi and Gojo answered at the same time. You blinked a few times, trying to remember what exactly happened before you blacked out. 

“Fuck.” 

Itadori had finally settled in just a bit. A lot had happened in the past few hours. He’d met you. Moped at school. Fought a curse. Saw you again. Saw you in trouble. Ate an ancient cursed object to save you. Passed out for hours. Woke up, was told he was going to be executed. Then told it was going to be on hold for just a bit. Was brought to a new school, saw spiky hair again and given a new room. Where he was now resting for a second. That was until someone knocked at his door. Itadori got to his feet, crossing his room and pulling open the door.

There you were. You were in different clothes, a nice white tank top and baggy gray sweatpants. You had a bruise on your forehead from where the curse had thrown you, one that matched the cut on Itadori’s forehead. Itadori stepped back, an awestruck look on his face.

“Morning,” You greeted. “I heard you were finally settled so I wanted to come see you.” 

“See me?” Itadori echoes, a smile fits to your lips. 

“Yeah, to thank you, for saving Megumi and I.”

“Oh! Uh- yeah of course… that was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. You… were incredibly brave and… I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this.” 

“Oh… you mean…”

“The execution.” You finish as Itadori nods his head, shrugging his shoulders. 

“It… it’s worth it.”

“Hm?”

“Saving you was worth the trouble.” Itadori confessed. You blushed at his words, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. You bite your lip to keep from smiling too large as you blow out a soft laugh.

“That was… technically my first mission, which is why it went so terribly so… in return for saving me I’d like to help you.” You say as Itadori slightly cocks his head, sort of like a dog. 

“Hm?”

“I’ll help you train, get stronger so that maybe they’ll cancel your execution… permanently.”

“You’d do that?”

“For you. Yeah.” You answer. This time it was Itadori’s turn to blush and blush he did. He felt that weakness in his knees again when you met his eyes with a promising sort of tone to your words. 

~

Itadori had replayed the moment of you being dragged off towards a curses mouth every time he was losing a fight. The terror in your eyes. He never wanted to see that again. So if you were to ask Itadori what his motivation was now… he’d say you. You complicated every fucking thing for him. Suddenly he wanted to help you. He wanted to save you. He wanted you to smile at him. To laugh at him. To cheer him on. He longed for your praise. Saving people was one thing but saving you… was everything.

“Morning,” You yawned as you entered the training room. Little had you known that Itadori had been in there for hours. Once he’d realized what he was fighting for he couldn’t rest easy until he had everything perfect, until he knew he could protect you. He was so in his head about it all that he hadn’t even heard you approach him. “Yuji,” He startled, turning.

“Oh… good morning.” He greeted, red faced and sweaty. 

“How long have you been up?” You asked, searching his face with those cat-like eyes he liked so much. 

“Oh uh… not long.” 

“You look exhausted.” You pointed out, handing him a water. He took it gratefully, drinking the entire thing in one go. You raised your brows. 

“I’m fine.” He said after a moment. You grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

“Did I stress you out? About the motivation shit?” You asked as Itadori got lost in your eyes, lost in the way you gently gripped his chin so you could clean off his face. “Because that’s just some crap I read in a personal wellness book. I just wanted to be a good teacher.”

“You are!” Itadori attested.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt… that’s all. I thought if we could find something meaningful for you to fight for you’d never lose hope.”

“I… I know.” Itadori blushes. He’d found something meaningful. He’d found someone to fight for. He just couldn’t tell her just yet. 

“And Megumi… that gloomy idiot, I asked for his help on how to get you properly motivated and you know what he said?”

“Hm?”

“To kiss you.” You scoffed with a laugh, shaking your head. “Like that would be any motivation at all.”

“It would.”

“I know! That’s what I…” You stopped talking, pausing. Your hand still held Itadori’s chin, slowly your eyes met his. “What?” He blushed under your gaze, and swallowed as your hand dropped from his face. 

“I… think that would work.” He says, reckless abandon. You stared at him for a long moment, your brows furrowing. You were sure Itadori would agree with you. But you were wrong. Maybe you were looking at this all wrong…

“Do fifteen pushups.” You said and Itadori dropped to the ground, you counted aloud as he did them and when he got to fifteen he popped back up to his feet. You stepped in his space, his cheeks were bright red as you rocked up on your tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his hot cheek. You heard him suck in a breath and when you pulled back his eyes were wide. “Yuji?”

“Yes?”

“Have you been here all night?” 

“Yes.” He answers truthfully, you swallow dryly. “I… know what motivates me. I think about it every time I fight.” 

“What is it?” You ask in a soft voice. 

“You.” He answers. There’s adoration in his eyes, and a bit of shyness. You know he’s telling the truth and you know what it means. You've known Itadori for about a year now. He saved your life and you have wanted to repay him all this time. You taught him everything you knew, stayed up late training and studying with him. You shared your lunch with him and watched movies with him. You spent most of your waking moments with Itadori and wondered how you never realized until this very moment just how much he motivated you right back. You smiled at the thought as Itadori melted. 

“Is that so?” You teased as his entire face went red.

“Um… y-yeah.” He stuttered nervously as you cocked your head, grinning up at him. 

“Well… I only have one last thing to teach you so here’s what we're gonna do. You're gonna take the day off today, then tomorrow we’ll meet back here around our usual time. If you can keep your cursed energy level like we’ve practiced I’ll kiss you again.”

“On the cheek?” He asked as you shook your head. 

“On the lips.” You clarified as Itadori’s lips parted, eyes widening. You almost laughed at his obvious excitement. 

“S-seriously?” He asked as you nodded your head, holding out your hand.

“Do we have a deal?” You asked. Itadori took your hand in seconds, shaking it gently. 

“Deal.”  

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part Nine

There’s No Escaping

Content: March-April 1971, some smut and a lot of fluff. There will probably be a bit of angst in the next chapter if you bear with me. 18+

I have embedded a link here and within the story to my one shot For the First Time, since Elvis is recollecting his first experience.

Catch up on the series here: Waiting for Love

Late March 1971

“So, he’s really insisting on paying for your apartment?” Roxanne’s voice held a note of disbelief. “When you first told me that, I thought for sure he was just feeding you a line.”

“No, he actually was really upset when I told him I was looking for a new job or that I could move in with you. He wants to take care of me.” A little smile spread across Vivien’s lips as she remembered their conversation in the hospital bed. Their conversation and everything that came after… She tried not to blush as she thought about the sound of his moaning as he pulsed in her hand.

“Wow. He wants you to be a kept woman and you’re not even doing the deed yet?”

Vivien could feel the blush engulfing her now as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away.

“Wait a second! Are you kidding me, Vivien? When?” Roxanne demanded, her voice equal parts anger and curiosity.

“Um, when I went to see his shows in Las Vegas,” Vivien whispered, adjusting her glasses and twirling a strand of hair nervously with her fingers.

“Vivien! That was a month ago! I asked you how the trip was, and you looked me in the face and told me it was fine.”

“Well you had just had a big fight with Michael. I didn’t want to gloat about what a magical time I had. Plus I didn’t lie! It was fine. Veeeery fine,” Vivien sighed with a big goofy smile.

“Okay,” Roxanne said, still sounding a little miffed. “Well, Michael and I are fine now, so give me all the juicy details.”

“So, when I first got there, he had picked out this beautiful dress for me to wear to the show…” Vivien started off, her mind drifting back to that evening as she replayed the events leading up to the big moment. “...and when I told him I was ready, he was just so patient and sweet and reassuring. He said he wanted to make sure it was special for me.” Vivien beamed and looked at Roxanne.

“Vivien!” Roxanne scolded. “That was very sweet, but there was not a juicy detail to be heard. How did it feel? How long did it last? Give me something!”

“Rox, you know I don’t like to share all that personal stuff. It feels like, like I’m betraying his confidence. And he already has a hard time knowing who to trust, I can tell.”

“You’re no fun,” Roxanne pouted.

“Okay, I will tell you that it felt amazing,” Vivien compromised. “I didn’t know I’d feel so…overwhelmed with emotion. When he was inside of me, it was like I felt complete. Like a missing piece of me was-”

“Inserted?” Roxanne filled in helpfully.

“Very funny!” Vivien chucked a pillow in Roxanne’s direction. “No, it was just so magical, I don’t know how else to describe it. I started to cry afterward. And he was just so understanding about it. He told me it was really special for him too, and he looked like he was about to cry also.”

“Wow,” Roxanne responded softly, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“What? You think he was putting on an act?”

“No, Viv, no, I just wonder how many women he’s been with and said that to. I’m happy for you, but you know I always worry.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I have someone to take care of me now. And I want to take care of him, too. He’s everything I was waiting for.” No amount of negativity could stop Vivien from floating on cloud nine.

*************************************************

Two weeks later

“Elvis?” Vivien asked as she nuzzled her head against his soft fuzzy chest.

“Yes, baby?” Elvis sounded tired but still alert. They were finally curled up in his bed at Graceland after watching movies for half the night at Crosstown Theater. The TV was playing softly, but Vivien had already set her glasses on the nightstand, so everything just looked fuzzy.

She fiddled with the button on his pajama top as Roxanne’s concerns refused to leave her mind. “How many women have you made love to?”

Elvis leaned up a little bit and glanced down at her, but she was very focused on a tiny stray thread coming off his button. He cleared his throat and tried a casual response. “What makes ya ask that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just curious. And maybe a little worried,” she admitted.

“Honey, ya ain’t got nothin’ ta be worried ‘bout. The past is the past. You’re here now cuz I want ya here.”

“I know. But for me, all these feelings are brand new. You’ve probably had this feeling lots of times, that someone is so special you can’t stop thinking about them. Maybe I’m just one in a long line of special girls.” Vivien swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ve probably been making love for decades.”

Elvis tried to stifle his laughter at her nervous declarations. “Decades, huh? You’re makin’ me feel old, baby.”

“You know what I mean, though, right? How do you know your feelings for me won’t pass? Did you feel that your first time was this special?”

Elvis quietly reflected back on his first time all those years ago as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over Vivien’s shoulder. “Naw, honey, it was nothin’ like this. I had waited a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. I was ‘bout 19 or so, and I s’pose I jus’ really wanted ta experience what it was like. All these girls throwin’ themselves at me, and I didn’t even know what it was like ta really be with one in that way, y’know. The gal, well she had been around a little bit I think, but she was sweet too. Sweeter than I thought she’d be. She musta guessed how inexperienced I was, but she didn’t make me feel bad ‘bout it.”

VIvien just listened silently as Elvis opened up to her in this way. She could tell from the start that he could be shy and sensitive, but he usually covered it up quickly with little jokes. Now, though, it was like his heart was totally exposed. She didn’t want to speak and spook him back into his defense mechanisms.

“I did feel like it was somethin’ special at the time, but nothin’ like how I feel ‘bout you, Vivien. And the other women, I mean, I can’t give ya an exact count, honey, but it’s probably not so many as people might think. There was a time in the army when I got a little wild I s’pose, tryin’ ta hide my loneliness after…” he trailed off for a second before continuing. “But it didn’t mean anything. And love-makin’ that don’t mean anything, what’s the point in that? It took me a few years really to realize how unfulfilled I was jus’ foolin’ around with whoever happened along. I need a mental, emotional connection to a woman to really be satisfied. And I ain’t never felt so connected ta someone as I do ta you, baby. Ya understand me?”

Vivien nodded, her eyes welling with tears

“Baby, feelings like this, they don’t just pass. Ya got me in your clutches, woman.”

Vivien leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his face, right where the little silver roots of his sideburns were growing in. “You’ve got me in yours, too. There’s no escaping.”

Elvis smiled but remained a little bit pensive. “I got a question for you now, baby. Would ya still love me if I weren’t Elvis Presley?”

Confusion flashed across Vivien’s face. “If you weren’t you? Who would you be instead?”

“Naw, I’d still be me, but I wouldn’t be, y’know, superstar Elvis Presley. Maybe I’d be electrician Elvis Presley. Or truck driver Elvis Presley. Or washed-up entertainer Elvis Presley. Or…”

“Okay, I get it,” Vivien smiled as she put a finger to his lips.

“I’m serious honey, what if I jus' decided ta stop tourin’? Would ya still love me?”

“Of course I would. There’s no question in my mind.” Vivien answered without hesitation.

“But when ya came ta meet me, it was because I’m famous, right?” Elvis challenged. “I mean, I know ya said ya were jus’ passin’ by on your way home, but I had some trouble believin’ that,” he added with a little wink.

Vivien blushed and considered how she could explain herself. “Okay, maybe I purposely took that way home hoping I’d get to catch a glimpse of you one day,” she admitted. “But not because you’re famous. Did you ever stop and think how you got so famous?”

“Right place at the right time?” Elvis guessed humbly.

“No, it’s just not possible for that to be the only explanation. Elvis, there’s something in you that touches people’s souls. That’s why they love you. Your voice is a beautiful gift, but it’s that light in you that people are drawn to. Even truck driver Elvis would be able to capture my heart with that light. And your intelligence, your kindness, your goofiness…these are the reasons I love you. Not because they’re gonna vote to name the street after you. Although it will make it a lot easier to remember your address,” Vivien teased.

Elvis chuckled and wiped the tears that had formed in his eyes. “Honey, ya have no idea how much that all means ta me ta hear that. It’s hard always havin’ ta question if people really like ya for yourself or cuz they want somethin’ from ya.”

“Well, I will reassure you as many times as you need to hear it.” Vivien whispered, toying again with the button at his chest.

“Baby, you’re gonna pop that button right off. If ya want me ta take my shirt off, jus’ say so.”

“Okay. I want you to take your shirt off. And everything else.”

Elvis let out the big uninhibited laugh that Vivien loved so much. “Oh yeah? Ya gonna have your way with me?”

Vivien nodded as she eagerly unbuttoned his shirt. “Absolutely. There’s no escaping for you either.” She leaned down and kissed him deeply while her fingertips traced over his exposed chest, drawing a soft moan from his lips.

Elvis pulled her nightie up over her head and let his eyes linger on her bare chest. “Baby, would ya do me a favor? Would ya get on top of me and bounce up and down on me? I wanna see your beautiful body while we make love.”

Vivien nodded shyly. “I would do anything for you.”

She pulled his pajama pants down his legs, exposing his semi-hard penis. As she made her way back up, she stopped to lavish her attention on this magnificent appendage, running her tongue over every inch, savoring the taste of his salty skin in her mouth.

“Oh, dammit baby, c’mere and take me all the way in,” Elvis moaned, reaching for her hands. He helped her balance as she straddled his midsection and slowly, carefully lowered herself onto his dick, consuming him with her warm welcoming pussy.

Vivien somewhat tentatively rocked her hips, unsure of exactly what motions he wanted her to do. She felt a little bit self-conscious as he watched her, his eyes clouding over with lust as he watched her breasts bounce with each movement.

“That’s right baby, jus’ like that.” He grabbed her hips with his large hands and helped her find the right rhythm.

“Oh, God, Elvis,” Vivien cried out as he pushed his hips upwards into her, his dick so deep inside of her she could barely handle the pleasure. Elvis grabbed her hands and helped hold her upright as her body rocked forward in ecstasy.

“Yes, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Elvis moaned as Vivien cried out his name again and again. He could feel his warm seed spurting inside of her as she came down from her high, laying her bare chest against his. “Honey, that was so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, running his long fingers through her hair.

“Mm-hmm,” she responded lazily, her lips pressed against his soft shoulder.

As she finally rolled off and back into the crook of his arm, she smiled a little bit. “Y’know, I was a little surprised that you weren’t even younger your first time. What with you being so handsome and all, every girl probably wanted you.”

Elvis chuckled and closed his eyes, thinking back on his high school days. “Naw baby, I had some dates, but I wasn’t too much of a ladies’ man. People thought I was kind of a weirdo back then.”

“Oh just back then, huh? If only they could see you now,” Vivien teased.

“Hey now woman, I don’t think ya wanna start debatin’ ‘bout who the weirdo is,” Elvis laughed, reaching over to tickle her sides. “Aren’t ya the one who likes ta give Little Elvis a goodnight kiss?”

Vivien giggled. “Oh, speaking of that, I should make sure he’s doing okay. And thank him for the ride.” She inched down to give out some sweet kisses as Elvis let out some strange hybrid noise, half laughing, half moaning.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo

[hotchnerobsessed]

Alone Again

Fem!Reader x Hotch | When Aaron unintentionally interrupts your alone time, it sparks a new desire in him.

Warnings: 🥵 Smut (Soft!Dom!Hotch, fem!masturbation, cockwarming, praise kink, slight exhibitionist kink) and a few swears!

Word Count: 3583

Masterlist

I wrote this pretty fast and only checked for mistakes once so I apologize in advance for any typos 😅

**********

It had been ten days. Ten days since you’d seen him. Ten days since you’d kissed him, and felt his arms around you. The cases that took him so far away from you never got any easier. But you always made a point of talking to each other every day, even if it was only for a short 30 seconds so he could tell you he was safe.

The day started as they usually did, as you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing next to your head. You didn’t make a habit of sleeping with your phone so close to you, but when he was away, you couldn’t help it. Sliding your thumb across the screen, you answered through a sleepy voice, “Aaron?”

“Hi sweetheart,” he laughed softly, “I’m sorry did I wake you?”

“No, no it’s okay, I’m up.”

He could tell you were lying, the grogginess in your voice giving you away. “Shit, I’m sorry, it’s Saturday. I should have let you sleep in. I always lose track of what day it is on these long cases.”

Your chest ached at his words, it had been too long, and you desperately wanted him to come home. “I miss you so much.”

There was a pause, and you heard him breathe deep. You were certain it was because he missed you too, which was absolutely true, but you’d come to find out soon enough there was another cause for his hesitation. They had just wrapped up the case, and in a few short hours you would be in his arms again, but he wanted it to be a surprise. “I miss you too, my girl.”

Another pause on the phone, this time it was you who hesitated. “Everyone is good? Everyone is safe?”

His chest swelled at your concern for not only him, but for the rest of the team. Your massive heart was the reason he’d fallen for you in the first place. “Yes, everyone is fine.”

You nodded your head, aware that he couldn’t see it, but in an attempt to comfort yourself. “Good. That’s good.” You knew there was no point in asking him when he’d be coming home, these things were unpredictable, so you simply asked of him what you always did, “come home to me in one piece, you hear me?”

You could hear him smile through the phone, “always.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Talk again tomorrow?”

Another pause. “In person,” he thought to himself, but answered, “you know it.”

No more words were needed, as the line was silent for a couple seconds, both of you simply listening to the other’s breathing, before he finally hung up.

Setting your phone on the bedside table, you rubbed your eyes before opening them slowly and staring up at the ceiling. A deep sigh escaped your lips before you finally pulled back the covers and got out of bed.

Time passed slowly, as anything you tried to do to distract your mind from how much you missed him was unsuccessful. You’d watched short bursts of about six different movies, constantly flipping between channels, unable to get your mind to focus on any one alone.

The longer you sat there, faced with the knowledge of spending another night alone, the more you kept replaying the phone conversation over and over in your mind. Something about talking to him this morning made you miss him even more than usual, and you couldn’t shake that lonely feeling.

It didn’t take long for your mind to wander elsewhere, to other means of distraction. The perfect distraction from thinking about Aaron being gone, was thinking about the times Aaron was home; the times when he was close to you, touching you, and inside you.

As you changed the channel on the television one last time, you crossed one knee over the other. The slight relief this provided to the aching between your legs made it impossible for your to ignore any longer.

Finally turning the TV off for good, you closed your eyes and imagined Aaron on his knees in front of you. Sitting right in this very spot in the living room, where many times before he’d devoured you like you were his last meal, made it very easy for memories and sensations to come rushing back.

The slight rocking of your hips, and shaking of your foot just wasn’t going to cut it; you needed more, and you wanted room to get comfortable. Eagerly standing from the couch, you made your way towards your bedroom. Once inside, you tore off your pyjamas that you’d been wearing all day, and tossed them on the floor.

Climbing into the middle of the bed, you allowed yourself to lay back and spread yours legs. Just as you’d thought about the times you’d spent together in the living room, your mind now focused on the times he’d had you pinned to the mattress, endless pleasure washing over you.

Trailing your hands down your body, your hand soon made contact with your swollen bud, and the moan that escaped your lips filling the room. Not to your surprise, you were already soaking wet, as you trailed your fingers through your folds. The ease with which your fingers now moved across your core was euphoric, and it didn’t take long until you were imagining his lips all over you.

As the circles you were rubbing became tighter and faster, your climax approaching, you were completely unaware of the outside world. All your mind was able to focus on was the building pressure between your legs. That fact, coupled with how intentionally quiet he was trying to be when opening the door, made Aaron’s presence unknown to you.

Gently setting his bags on the couch, being careful not to let his keys make a sound, he smiled to himself knowing his surprise might actually work. It was at that moment that another moan escaped your lips, one so clear it made it’s way down the hallway. As Aaron’s ears perked up, he stood still, wondering if he’d just heard what he thought he had.

Sure enough, another deep moan made its way from your lips to his ears, followed by a breathless, “ohh.. Aaron..”

The smile on his face grew even wider; he couldn’t deny how it felt, knowing that even when you were all by yourself, he was still able to make you feel this good.

Taking extra care in his gentle footsteps across the floor, in no time he was standing just outside the bedroom door. He’d had you right there before, teetering on the edge of eagerness and pure bliss, so when another soft moan filled the air, he knew by the desperation in your voice that you were close.

Although he’d already heard too much, he didn’t want to cross too many boundaries; hearing you like this was different than seeing you like this. He wasn’t naive, he knew you still had a relationship with your own body, outside of your relationship with him. You were still more than entitled to your alone time, especially when he’d been gone for so long.

So he waited, not so patiently now with his hard length straining against his pants, for you to finish.

That would come sooner rather than later, with one final whimper of his name, you crested the wave and felt the bliss you’d been chasing rush through your veins.

Giving you a few seconds to regain composure, he took one final step forward and gently leaned against the wooden doorframe. As he gazed at you from the doorway, seeing you so exposed like this, sparked something new in his mind. He’d been inside you countless times before, and could get himself off simply by thinking about how it felt as one of your orgasm squeezed the life out of him. But he wanted to try something different, and he was hoping you would be eager to as well.

Just as you pulled your hand away from your core, your breathing still laboured, you were brought out of your trance by the sound of a familiar voice. He spoke gently in an attempt to not startle you, “you missed me that much, huh sweetheart?”

Your eyes flew open, and you sat up with a jolt, the fog in your brain gone in an instant. Glancing across the room, you gasped as your eyes took in the sight in front of you. He stood there, full suit in tact, hair slightly tousled, no doubt from a quick nap on the long flight home. He looked absolutely divine. You would have thought so regardless, but especially now, after having just made yourself cum while thinking about him.

Before you could form any words, you were slipping your legs off the side of the bed and playfully bounding towards him. With his arms outstretched to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled you into his chest. Neither of you cared that he was fully clothed and you were not, simply being able to hold one another again was all you cared about.

You clenched your fists, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket and pulling him impossibly close. Breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, you felt him place a tender kiss to the top of your head. One of his hands was combing through your hair gently, and the other was resting on the small of your back, pulling your body against his.

Finally answering his question, you whispered against his chest, “yes. Yes I did miss you that much.”

A comforting laugh rumbled in his chest as you squeezed him even tighter. It didn’t take long for you to clue into the fact that he must have heard you calling out his name, but you didn’t care, because it clearly had a desirable affect on him. You could tell he was ready for you, his length pressing into your hip, so you teased right back, “looks like you missed me a little bit, too.” Bringing one of your hands to the front of his body, you gently caressed him through his pants, revelling in the hiss that escaped his lips.

“Just a little bit..” he confessed.

Finally tilting your head back to look into his eyes, he smiled down at you, until he was unable to hold back any longer. Learning forward, his hand that was on the back of your head tugged on your hair gently, and he connected his lips to yours passionately.

You quickly began removing articles of his clothing as he trailed kisses along your jaw, and down your neck. Mumbling against your warm skin, he asked, “think you have a few more in you?”

You stopped where you were, his chest now bare to you as you tugged on his belt. Placing tender kisses across his chest from one shoulder to the other, you stated, “for you? Always..” before picking up right where you left off.

The urgency in your movements was evident, with both of you now completely undressed, the feeling of skin on skin soothing both of your lonely and aching minds.

As he laid you back on the bed, you admitted, “I’m already so wet..” implying you didn’t need him to go down on you like he always did. You missed him, and you just wanted him inside you again. “Please Aaron, I just want you to fuck me.”

He let out a deep moan at your admission, his bare length making contact with your core. Pulling back slightly, his eyes darkened, and you felt heat rush to your face. You knew that look. You’d seen it many times before. He was going to fuck you. But not until he got what he wanted. And whatever it was, you were eager to give it to him.

He stood from the bed, and you watched intently as he pulled open the top drawer of the bedside table and grabbed a condom. In no time at all, he had it rolled down his length and was back between your legs. His voice was deep and commanding, “Don’t worry my sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, but I want you to do something for me first.”

Nodding your head, you anxiously listened for what it was he wanted you to do.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your voice was shaky as you spoke, “I’ll do whatever you want, Sir. I’ll be a good girl.”

The look on his face at your words made your walls clench around nothing. Before you knew what hit you, he was running his length through your folds and pushing himself inside you. The feeling knocked the breath right out of your chest, and you let out a short gasp. Giving his hips one final thrust forward, he collapsed on top of you and moaned against your neck.

He kept his hips still as he trailed kisses along your neck, before capturing your lips with his passionately once more. Pulling back, he gazed into your eyes and you could see the contemplation on his face; he knew what he wanted, and he hoped you would be comfortable giving it to him.

You both trusted each other completely, it’s why you worked so well together. You both knew there was no judgement between you no matter what, but you were still gentle, and honest, and respectful when it came to trying something new.

Lifting his body weight off of yours, he leaned back on his heels, all while his hands kept a firm grasp on your hips, holding you in place. With his length still buried deep inside you, your legs draped over his thighs, you were completely exposed to him as he glanced down at where your bodies met.

You couldn’t help the heat that rose in your cheeks as you watched him take in the sight. You were unable to pull your eyes away from him, trying desperately to read every micro-expression on his face and figure out what he was thinking. You would soon find out, and you would not be disappointed.

You felt his hand spread out against the inside of your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the soft skin. His eyes trailed along your body, across your breasts, before your eyes met.

“I didn’t watch.. earlier, when I got home.. I could hear you, but I didn’t watch.”

Mild disappointment clouded your mind; though you adored the gentleman he was, not wanting to intrude on your personal time, you almost wished he had peeked. You had nothing to hide when it came to him.

“But I wanted to.”

His admission made the knots in your stomach tighten. “Me too,” you thought to yourself, but you stayed silent, knowing you were finally going to find out what he wanted from you.

“And I still do.”

Blinking slowly a couple times, you tried to interpret what he meant, and as it finally clicked in your mind, he spoke once more.

“I want you to touch yourself.”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you started breathing heavier.

“I want you to make yourself cum while I’m inside you.”

You exhaled deep, your mouth already dry with anticipation. “Oh fuck,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “okay.. yes..” you stumbled over your words, “yes, Sir.”

His lips curled upwards into a smile that set your entire body on fire. If you weren’t already soaking for him, the desire in his eyes would have made you wet in an instant.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his thumb still rubbing those same circles against the inside of your thigh.

The level of comfort you felt with him had you acting on his request immediately. In a moment where your instincts might normally be to cover up, to shy away, he had you blossoming and eager to show off.

His eyes followed the trail of your fingertips, along both of your breasts, down your stomach, and between your legs. You started by resting one hand on top of his that was still rubbing gentle circles along the inside of your thigh.

You knew how much he loved the feeling of your nails on his skin, so you used your other hand to gently run your nails down his stomach. The muscles in his abdomen tensed and his eyes flickered shut momentarily as a low moan graced his lips. You smirked to yourself, knowing that even when he was the one in charge, you still had that kind of an affect on him.

Once your hand trailed all the way down, you let your fingers caress the base of his cock, as it lead straight into your heat. The countless times you’d been together, you’d never felt this before, the direct connection of your bodies with your fingertips. It was new and exhilarating for both of you, so you took a second to simply enjoy how full you felt, even from the outside.

“You’re teasing,” his voice was strained as he spoke through gritted teeth. Looking up at him, you blinked not-so-innocently, causing him to swallow hard. “Go on, be a good girl, I want to watch you make yourself cum.”

His words made your hips move involuntarily, and that slight taste of movement had you whimpering in no time. Now with both hands on your hips, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He was trying to hold you still as much as himself; it was taking everything in him not to pound you into the mattress right then and there.

The look he gave you made heat pool between your legs, and your body reacted before your mind had a chance to catch up. With your fingers now directly on your clit, the feeling was euphoric. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to describe it.

He’d made you lose control around him so many times before, but one of you was always moving. The stillness of your hips now, combined with the familiar stretch of him deep within you, and the furious circles you were rubbing against your body, had you coming undone in no time.

“Mmm.. fuck..” he groaned, “I can feel you, sweetheart. Fuck..” he was nearly breathless himself, “your pretty little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

The soft whimpers that escaped your lips was music to his ears, “I’m close.. Aaron..” the break in your submissive exterior causing him to shiver at his own name, “Sir.. I’m going to cum..”

The faster your fingers moved, the closer that edge became.

“Such a good girl. Go on. Cum on my cock pretty girl.”

Before you knew it, pure bliss was consuming your mind.

“Yeah.. there you go.. fuuuuck you feel so good.”

With his strong hands holding your hips still, your back arched off the bed, your fingers still connected to your core. You were right on the verge of over-stimulation, but not wanting the pleasure to end. With a couple final swipes of your fingertips across your swollen clit, your body shuddered and you pulled away.

A deep exhale relaxed your entire body, as your sleepy eyes slowly opened. You were greeted with the beautiful sight of Aaron’s eyes raking across your entire body, before settling between your legs once more. “Damn sweetheart, that was so sexy.”

You smiled bashfully, as your eyes slipped closed once more. You’d hardly had a chance to get your breath back, before he was knocking it out of you once again. The sudden movement of his hips against yours, and the long drag of his length out of you, was swiftly followed by his body weight on top of yours and his length slamming back into you.

“OH FUCK!” You couldn’t help the scream that escaped your lips, as his pelvis continually brushed across your still sensitive clit. With every thrust, you felt every nerve ending in your body explode.

He kept true to his promise of fucking you until you couldn’t walk. You’d lost count of just how many times he made you cum. As the 6th? 7th? orgasm of the night washed over you, he abruptly snapped his hips into you one last time, as he spilled his release inside the condom.

Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks up and down his back. With both of your breathing heavy against each other’s necks, you let out a faint but content laugh. “That.. holy shit..” you spoke between deep breaths, “that.. was incredible.”

His laugh matched yours, airy and weak, but blissful, “I think..” a couple deep breaths, “we need to do that more often.”

A blush crept onto your face as he lifted his head to look you in the eyes, “you like watching me, hey?”

He nodded profusely, your soft Aaron was back once more as a love-sick smile crossed his face, “can you blame me?”

Shaking your head lovingly, you placed your hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours. After sharing a breathless yet passionate kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, and you confessed, “I liked it too..” you laughed again, “I mean, I really liked it..”

A cheeky grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, “yeah?”

All you could do was nod in agreement, as his lips captured yours once more.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Angst, peril, love triangle, a final showdown, character death, and a goodbye…

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

We’re probably gonna die, Helena thought, as M.M. pulled their off to a shaded side street behind Vought Tower.

Kimiko and Frenchie soon split off to get down to the lab, after Helena gave them precise directions on the best way to get there. While Hughie went to the Security control room to try and evacuate the building, Helena went with M.M. and Annie up several floors to find Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Once they got up to the upper floors, they came across a few stray Vought employees that were hastily making for the stairwell. When M.M. questioned where they were going in such a hurry, one of them answered, “Homelander’s about to fight Soldier Boy.”

Helena, M.M., and Annie continued at a faster clip down the hall, where they were able to hear familiar voices. M.M. slowed them to a stop in front of an office door, drawing his gun. Annie stepped in front of them protectively.

When she broke into the room, she raised a glowing hand. She soon dimmed it when she realized what was happening. Even M.M. stopped short, but Helena pushed through them both as her mouth fell open.

“Ryan!” she gasped.

He was with Homelander at the far end of the room. They, along with Butcher, Maeve, and Soldier Boy turned their heads at the intrusion. It was three on two, but Homelander had a loose and familial hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Ryan, a—are you okay?” Helena asked. She tried to step forward, but M.M. held her back. She glanced at him in annoyance, but he raised his brows at her.

She realized then he was just trying to protect her from making a potentially dangerous move forward, even though he was probably still angry at her. She was grateful, but still worried when she met Ryan’s blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, though his voice had a slight shake to it. He seemed happy to see her (as happy as he could be in a moment like this), but Homelander’s hand kept the boy from taking a step forward. Helena softened, her heart aching. Homelander must have found him…and taken him.

She glanced at Butcher next. He was eyeing her in what the bloody hell are you doing here sort of way. She gave him a look he ought to know well. 

For you, you idiot. But her focus shifted back to Ryan.

Without Helena realizing, Ben’s gaze had drawn to her—at her panic-stricken face when she saw the boy with Homelander. Now that he knew who Ryan was, it made Ben look at her harder. She’d known what she was doing when she kept that information to herself, about her best friend’s son. His grandson. But Ben also begrudgingly understood why she kept that secret.

She was an idiot to come here though. His mouth firmed in a line when, unbidden, something she’d told him filtered back through his mind, on that first late night in her home.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said. 

And the way she couldn’t help but look at Homelander in fear, like the supe was some kind of monster… Ben couldn’t help thinking (deep down), would she say the same of him?

“Don’t you see?” Homelander said. Once again, he commanded the attention in the room, even though it was Ben he was talking to, as if all the others didn’t matter. They were just specks in the realm of his existence.

Homelander smiled. “You have a family. You have him, and you have me.”

He nodded at Ryan, his hand tightening a fraction on the boy’s shoulder. Ben saw the kid tense up a little. Ryan’s eyes shifted from Homelander behind him, to Ben. And then beyond him, to Helena, and even Butcher. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, and Ben saw it.

Deep down, he could relate.

He stared back at Homelander, this thing that should’ve been his son. Ben’s lips quirked, and he stepped forward.

“It’s a shame that I’ve missed so much,” he said, in the face of Homelander’s burgeoning tears. “I wish I could’ve raised you, and taught you, father to son.”

“That’s okay,” Homelander whispered. “We’re not alone anymore. We have each other.”

Ben’s smile became more dry. He grasped Homelander’s shoulder. “Maybe if I’d raised you, I could’ve made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there’s no fixing that now.”

“Weak?” Homelander echoed. His expression had dropped from tearfully hopeful, to shocked, and the beginnings of anger. “I’m you.”

“I know,” Ben said, hating the way his lips actually trembled at the admission. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”

He grabbed at Homelander’s face, tilting his laser eyes back. Butcher and Maeve came up on either side to secure the supe, but Ryan protested.

“Ryan, get out of the building, now!” Butcher told him. Still, the kid pushed back to try and help his father.

Helena broke away from M.M. and Annie in their shock to go to Ryan, but M.M. reacted at the last second to grab her arm.

“Let go of me!” she whipped back. M.M. stared down at her incredulously. She was human, the same as him, but unlike him, she wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, let alone one that would work on Homelander or Soldier Boy.

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

“Are you?” she retorted. She twisted out of his grip and managed to slip away from him.

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

And it actually halted the supe’s steps. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown. His gait was tense, but she held her ground with her arms wrapped around Ryan. The boy’s fear made his eyes dim back to their normal hue as he glanced up at her, and then back at Soldier Boy. She was able to slowly tug Ryan behind her. 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she said. Her tone was pleading, a hint unsteady. If he really wanted to get to Ryan, he’d have to go through her first.

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

Meanwhile, Butcher had been mostly distracted with trying to help Maeve (and now Annie) keep Homelander held down. Now, he realized just how much this was all about to cost him. His eyes widened when he saw Soldier Boy’s threatening stance.

“Helena!” he called out, just before Homelander broke free. He punched Butcher down with a crack against his face. V24 was coursing through the man’s veins, allowing him to take the hit and deliver one right back.

“Scorched earth, eh William?” Homelander taunted. His red-hot gaze glanced in Helena’s direction. Butcher sneered and landed a blow right between the supe’s eyes.

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

Finally, he relented. He turned away with a surly frown, jumping back into the fray with Homelander. That was his real target, and she was grateful, blowing out a relieved breath before she turned back to face Ryan.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

She set her hands on his shoulders. “That’s my line, bud. Come on, let’s go.”

He resisted when she tried to pull him away from the warzone happening far too close for comfort, in an office that was not meant to contain a whole five-on-one super battle.

“No!” Ryan refused to move, shirking her grasp. “Homelander…he’s my dad. He cares about me.”

Helena let out a shaky breath. She laid more gentle hands on his arms.

“Ryan, he’s using you,” she said. “Whatever he told you, maybe he believed it…but I doubt he’s truly capable of caring about anyone but himself.”

“No, that’s…that’s not true,” Ryan shook his head in protest. When he pulled away from her, she tried to hold onto him a bit tighter so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of the battle. M.M. saw them both and was trying to get around the danger zone himself to help them, but Ryan wasn’t helping Helena at all.

In fact, he broke away from her with such strength, he actually pushed her to the ground. She gasped at the impact when she fell. Not just at the shock of it, but at the pain; it disrupted her still broken ribs…which she’d ironically gotten when Homelander shoved her into a wall back at Herogasm.

Fuck, she sucked in a pained breath. She also saw the shock and dismay cross Ryan’s face. He hadn’t meant to push her that hard, to hurt her. She knew it when she saw that look.

She held up a hand to him, “It’s okay. I’m okay—”

 But in his guilt, Ryan backed away from her. He bolted out of the enclosed office and towards the rest of the fight that had finally moved into the other room.

“Ryan!” Helena called, even as he was escaping her. With difficulty, she got back onto her feet.

She was startled half out of her skin when Ben was flung into a nearby wall, making her scream and duck for cover as debris and office supplies exploded as a result. She took another painful spill across the floor. And rolling out of her inside pocket of her jacket came a small, green vial of V24.

Her eyes zeroed in, just before her hand closed around it. She dragged herself off the floor and back onto her feet, and then towards Ben, who was growling and shaking the dust off. He was prepared to head back into the fray, where the rest of them were still fighting Homelander. Ryan was hovering at the edge, scared and worried, no matter who got punched or tossed.

That’s it, Helena thought. Fuck it all.

“Ben,” she said raggedly, earning his attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

She went to him and offered him the tail end of a syringe she’d been storing in her other pocket. It was a miracle that it hadn’t broken in her tumbles.

 “Out of the fucking way,” he barked, after he eyed her in irritation. Clearly, I’m busy, his face suggested.

She took one of the biggest chances of her life and grabbed his arm.

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

He looked down at her through furrowed brows, asking a silent question with his eyes. Why me?

Her hand was shaking. She really just couldn’t bring herself to inject her body full of poison…but she had to.  

“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness. I don’t want to be collateral damage,” she said. “But more than anything, I’m sick of being afraid.”

She grabbed his hand and put both the vial and the syringe in it.

“Goddamn it, Ben, just do it!” she said, through tears.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her arm, found a vein, and did his best to inject her correctly. But when that vile shit hit her system, she nearly collapsed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, but he kept her upright. She shuddered, her eyes briefly closing. All the while, Ben’s grip remained steady. Inside, however, he didn’t know why the fuck he was doing this. 

It felt too close to being soft. But maybe it was because a part of him, deep down (a part he didn’t want to think about), wanted to prove he was still some kind of hero. Or maybe, it was because he felt like he was repaying a debt.  

When the pain subsided, her body hummed with chemical electricity in her blood. She breathed through it and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. After a short hesitation, his hands fell from her. Ben responded with a nod.

He turned on his heel and was about to head back into the battle fray, but was hit with a star bolt. It pushed him back a few feet but didn’t bring him down. His head snapped up with annoyance. Helena looked over with wider eyes to find Annie, now joined by Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie. M.M. sideswiped Helena, forcing her out of the way while Kimiko and Annie surged forward against Ben.

With the temporary V coursing through her veins, Helena was finally strong enough to push back against M.M., making him stumble. He stared back at you in surprise.

“Are you on V?” he asked. “Did you just shoot the fuck up?”

Her lips pursed. She couldn’t deny it, nor would she.

“You know it’s fatal after a few doses, right?” he said tersely.

Helena’s eyes widened. She looked over at Butcher, who was still fighting Homelander and taking hot lasers to the arm, blocking his face.

She didn’t know how many doses he’d taken, but she could hazard a guess.

Too many.

Ben startled them both by tossing both Annie and Kimiko at opposite ends of the room. He stalked forward, ignoring her and M.M. in order to get to Homelander.

M.M. tensed up, like he was about to follow the supe, but Helena grabbed his arm.

“Look, I know what he did to you, but let him at least end Homelander, for fuck’s sake!” she snapped.

“Do you want the entire building to blow the fuck up?” he shot back. He gestured over at Ryan, still huddled against the wall. “Try to get him out of here first!”

On that, they could agree.

Just then, Homelander tore through the room with his laser vision, regardless of who or what he hit. When the beam swept across the middle and went for Ryan on the other side, Helena ran to him and had them both dive for the ground. She protected his head.

Meanwhile, Butcher grabbed the supe by the cape in attempt to bring him to heel. Ben came up on the other side and pinned him down to the ground while Homelander fought both of their holds.

Ryan turned onto his side after Helena raised off of him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, but there was guilt behind them, lingering from when he pushed her.

“Why…why are you and Butcher here? Why do you hate my dad?” he asked. His voice was so small and upset, it made tears well up in Helena’s eyes.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said. “Homelander’s not your father. Not really. He’s the reason you and your mom were alone for all those years. He’s the reason she couldn’t be with Billy, and why you had to grow up alone. Your mom was protecting you from him.”

Tears stung at Ryan’s eyes as well. He bit his lip and shook his head; he didn’t want to believe her.

“You’re wrong,” he said tremulously. “He’s…he’s not mad at me for what happened to Mom. For…”

Helena had to try and swallow past a tight ball of emotion. She was about to respond when an iron grip tangled in her hair and grabbed her up. A shriek tore from her throat as she was yanked to her feet and almost off the ground. Her hands flew up to claw at Homelander’s.

Ryan’s eyes flew wide again. He scrambled onto his feet as well and faced his father.

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

Homelander tilted his head at his son, with a grim set to his face. “Don’t you see? They’re all cockroaches. They’re mud people. Ryan, they’re not like us.”

V24 didn’t take away her fear, Helena realized. It just magnified what was already inside. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,” she hissed, regardless of the terrified, angry tears burning in her eyes.

Across the room, M.M. stared down at Butcher angrily. It was hard to maintain it when the other man had just saved him from getting pounded with Soldier Boy’s shield, but M.M. had a high threshold of “Fuck you, Butcher” leftover. 

Despite that, M.M. helped Butcher pick himself up from the rubble. Then he noticed something else. 

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. Butcher followed his gaze and landed on Homelander; he saw the supe’s killer grip on Helena’s hair, with Ryan pleading at him to stop.

Butcher’s eyes widened. He called her name from across the room. 

Slowly Homelander’s head turned. 

He smirked. The kind of manic smile that said he’d get to have his revenge twice. 

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

But a violet haze surged from Helena’s hands, not only disrupting Homelander’s concentration, but forcing him to let go of her entirely. It was a forcefield that threw him back across the far wall.

She stumbled to her feet and would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t reached out to steady her. She gave him a grateful smile, and she let her arm fall around his shoulders.

Butcher was shocked, relieved, and angry all at once. 

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

Despite the look of surprise on most faces in the room, Ben was the only one who remained stoic.

Homelander peeled himself from the wall with a growl. He stalked forward, but he was met with Butcher stepping in front of Helena and Ryan. 

Butcher blocked the first punch Homelander threw. He just couldn’t avoid the second brutal one that cracked against his nose. Homelander twisted his arm and wrenched, until Butcher was forced almost to his knees.

“You may be hopped up, but you’re just a try-hard, dick-sucking groupie,” Homelander taunted. “Real power is—”

Ryan stumbled forward and pushed Homelander hard in the chest, enough to make the other man’s grip on Butcher loosen. Ryan moved to stand in front of Butcher and Helena.   

“Son?” Homelander asked, with wide, confused eyes. 

All the commotion in the room paused. Even the fight against Soldier Boy came to a standstill, including Maeve, who was sporting one eye and a bloody hole where the other used to be (courtesy of Homelander). She propped herself up against the wall and watched Homelander intently.

Soldier Boy watched as well. If he lit up the nuclear power in his chest now, he could make Homelander powerless. But…it would be hard to control it in here. He glanced at Butcher and Helena kneeling on the ground. She’d come to his side and was propping him up, just as his arm was around her protectively. 

I don’t want to be collateral damage, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Ryan was scared with tears in his eyes, but he held his ground against his father with determination. 

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

Homelander couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own son was protecting the one man he hated most in this world. 

“But…why?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your blood. I’m…I’m your family.”

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

“Ryan, don’t,” he said. Ryan looked over his shoulder at them, at Butcher.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Butcher didn’t entirely know what that meant, but he couldn’t help but marvel when the kid turned back to face his father.  

“I understand you, Ryan. Better than anyone,” Homelander said earnestly. He probably even believed that.  

Ryan lip wobbled with emotion. He hadn’t realized it, not until Homelander grabbed Helena and threatened to kill one of the only people who’d ever been nice to him. Ryan saw it when Homelander had turned to Butcher next, with something evil in his eyes.

“You’ve hurt everyone I care about,” Ryan realized, with a small gasp of a sob. “You…you hurt my mom.”

Homelander’s eyes soon became glassy, angry, and insane.

“I think you took the fucking cake on that one, sport,” he retorted. 

Ryan flinched. Tears poured down Ryan’s cheeks as that blow cut into him. 

But he instinctively let those emotions fuel him. He hovered above the ground in flight, almost eye-level with Homelander. His eyes glowed red. 

Homelander smirked through unshed tears. He supposed it was fine; he’d been prepared to rule through fear before. 

You don’t need anyone, that voice deep inside whispered. Not even Ryan.

And here, Ben finally saw his chance. 

“Hey, Real Power,” he snarked, just before he grabbed Homelander by the edge of his cape and headbutted him. After throwing him off balance, Ben kicked him into a glass coffee table, making it shatter. He continued forward and grabbed Homelander by his collar next. 

Then he began to charge up that nuclear power in his chest. Homelander grabbed his arm and tried to twist out of his grip, but Ben held on in determination. Maeve helped him by kicking out Homelander’s knee. She and Ben briefly shared a grim look. 

“We could’ve taken on the whole world,” Homelander gritted out. Ben smirked. 

“Maybe. But I never took well to sharing the spotlight,” he said, and threw another punch that snapped Homelander’s head back. All the while, his chest continued to illuminate and become impossibly hot. 

If Ben let go of his power now, he could end Homelander for good. But if he did, he’d probably level the whole block. He glanced over Homelander’s shoulder. Butcher held both Helena and Ryan, waiting to protect them from the impending blast. 

Butcher kept Helena close with an arm around her waist. Deep down, Ben reluctantly felt a twinge of jealousy. Until Helena peeked up fearfully and found Ben’s eyes. Even with the power V24 gave her, he doubted it would do them much good. 

With that brief distraction, Homelander broke free with an angry shout.

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled. 

While the other supe tried to fly backwards to save himself, Ben rushed forward and leapt, grabbing the supe in mid-air. They both crashed through the far window out of the Tower.

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

Homelander tried to fight off his hanger on, but the power behind the blast disrupted his own, including his flight.

And from that great height, Soldier Boy and Homelander fell. Whatever wasn’t contained by the two of them grappling hit the rest of the Tower behind them.

Inside the building, Helena managed to draw up a forcefield that protected them all from the initial blast. Whatever she couldn’t cover was eaten away, leaving a giant hole in the side of the building. Butcher looked up at the violet haze, then at her with consternation.

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped at him. “One dose of Temp V won’t kill me.”

His lips pursed, but he still helped her up to her feet, along with Ryan. Helena checked the boy to make sure he was all right. She brought her hands up to his cheeks and held his face.

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.” 

She smiled back. “Good.”

Butcher’s lips twitched. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he also moved a hand down to the small of Helena’s back, earning her attention. For a moment, their eyes met. That look was charged with unspoken meaning, cutting through things like, “I told you so,” and “What were you thinking?” And, “You ass.”

But the common denominator of it all was this.

Butcher tugged her close for a hard kiss. His beard was rough, his grip was tight, but his lips were tender. She responded in kind, gripping the shorter hair at the back of his head and matching his passion with her own.

He pulled away after a moment, meeting her eyes with a silent request. She held his cheek, and she nodded. Later they would hash the rest of this out, but for now, this was enough.

Butcher then turned to Ryan and took a knee in front of him.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” Ryan asked, in a small voice.

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for what I said last time. What happened to Becca, to your mum…it ain’t your fault, son.”

Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. He sniffed, and Butcher squeezed his shoulder. 

“Look, kid. I’m not a good man. Christ, you’re already a better one than me. But, as long as you want me around…I’m here for ya.”

Ryan hugged him. Butcher was surprised by it at first, but slowly, he let himself hug Ryan back.

Helena teared up and laid a gentle hand on Butcher’s back. Hughie even came up on her left to nudge her shoulder. She smiled and patted his arm back. The others, though battered, bruised, and in some cases bloody, had gotten back on their feet. 

“Butcher, we gotta go,” M.M. reminded him. “Homelander and Soldier Boy damn dear exploded the block down there.”

Homelander’s crash landing had created a crater inside the ground outside of Vought Tower. Coils of smoke came off of his body, as most of his uniform was burnt off, along with a good part of his neck and torso. 

Butcher stood over him, creating a shadow that Homelander couldn’t escape. Homelander opened his eyes wide, as if to laser him, but nothing came out. 

His eyes widened in shock this time. “What the fuck…” 

He crawled out of the crater, his uniform in tatters. He managed to stumble to his feet and throw a punch at Butcher, who easily dodged. 

The blast had done its job. Homelander was a powerless mess. That realization dawned on the man, and soon had him frothing at the mouth in disbelief. Butcher pulled out a gun from his belt, a formerly useless gun, and shot Homelander in the head. Right between the eyes. 

Homelander’s body fell to the ground, just as Helena came out of the building with Ryan. With a gasp, she shielded the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t look,” she told him. Ryan allowed himself to bury his face against her chest, biting his lip as a few tears escaped and soaked into her shirt.  

Grace Mallory showed up minutes later with two SUVs of CIA agents for the cleanup—not only to set a perimeter around the crater, but to take Homelander’s body. Helena had Mallory steer Ryan away, though she promised to check on him soon.

Helena was going to join where Butcher, M.M., and the rest of them had gathered next, but she noticed something. There were drops of blood leading away from the crater, into a nearby alley.

With suspicion churning in her gut, she followed the trail into the alley. By now it was still dark outside, even with the sun starting to peek out from between the city skyscrapers. The deeper part of the alley was still cast in darkness.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, at the same time another covered her mouth. She gasped and was about to scream, when she came face to face with Ben. He shushed her.

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

“Ben?! What the hell?” she hissed between his fingers and tried to pry them off. He eventually let her go. He still had a supe’s strength, so she could assume that the blast had only taken away Homelander’s powers, not Ben’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, both incredulous and annoyed. “Are you okay?”

He gave you an amused smirk. “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t been sure what she would do when she saw him. Ask about his wellbeing wasn’t it, but it had smugness welling up in his chest. It seemed like she didn’t hate him too much after all.

“I know all about the Mob Squad’s genius plan to gas me up and stuff me in a goddamn box,” he said, less pleasantly. “That’s not fucking happening.”

Helena’s lips pursed. “So what are you going to do?”

Maybe she didn’t want to see him in a box either, and maybe he’d just done the entire world a solid by taking out Homelander, but that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t dangerous all on his own.

“I’m taking my well-earned vacation,” he said. His smirk deepened. “But two tickets to paradise could be arranged.” 

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head. 

“I don’t think so, Ben,” she said, though she tilted her head at him. “You could be a real hero, you know. If you did the work.”

He stared down at her for a moment. He eventually quirked a grin. 

“A lot of your friends would call that a lost cause,” he said.

“Prove your father wrong. Prove me right,” she said, raising a brow. “I dare you.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. He considered her as his smirk softened slightly, into a more sincere smile.

Instead of answering her, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and held onto his arms on reflex. It gave him the opening he needed to steal a kiss.

Helena was too shocked to heed her first instinct, which was to slap him in the face. 

He soon pulled away, giving her another familiar smirk at her angry, blushing face. 

But after he stroked her cheek and finally let go of her, she realized that this was a goodbye.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

He backed away from her, deeper into the darkness of the alley. She couldn’t see him well, just the outline of his broad form, but she thought she heard the last bit of his voice.

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

AN: Sigh. Thus ends Homelander, son of no one. How did you like Ben and Helena's goodbye? 😂

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

When his gaze found hers, they didn’t need words.

They were home.

His head bowed to greet Helena with a kiss, languid and unhurried.

His hand moved under the sheets to slip under her silky top, splaying across her lower back. Her arm twined around his neck in turn, her fingers slipping into his dark hair. Hers was already wild this morning; it both tickled his arm and fanned across her pillow.

She nipped his bottom lip and earned a pleased sound from him, deep in his throat. But before he could roll her onto her back, they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs.

Butcher groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. But a smile twitched at his mouth.

“Incoming,” he muttered.

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menace (pjm) — pt. v

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 5/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Genre: Angst + Smut + Eventual Fluff Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 7k Summary: Some conversations are long overdue. AUs: Older brother’s best friend; fuck buddies that hate each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV?; the return of jeon jungkook; the consequences of their own actions; angsty bits but ending on a good note! A/N: This takes place immediately after the events of pt. 3! FYI, I slightly lessened the age gap between Seokjin and Jimin for plot purposes. The smut will return in the final part, so don't fret ✨ ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

When he left your house earlier that day — left you, at your demand — Jimin went home. He shuffled off to his bedroom, dropped like a stone onto his own mattress, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. 

He was still stuck on the puzzle. Over and over, he replayed the moment he’d kissed you. It was a reflex, not a choice. The way you gazed up at him, starry eyed, from the cushions of your sofa didn’t leave him a choice. And even though he should have regretted it immediately, he didn’t — not until he watched your face warp, not until you pushed him away.

Staring mindlessly up at his ceiling, Jimin struggled to recall what the fuck this was all for — any of it. The distance, the hostility, the rules. The two of you had pushed forward so recklessly and for so long that the starting line was blurry. Everything was, and the harder he thought about it, the dizzier he got.

To ground himself, Jimin closed his eyes and pressed his palms flat against the bed. His fingers grabbed fistfuls of the duvet below, like he might go flying around the room otherwise. Pinched hard between his thumbs and index fingers, he ran the pads of them over the fabric. As he did, he closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deliberately.

What’s the point?

It took a moment, but he felt it when he bent one knee, foot flat against the bed. The point was actually a rounded corner, and it was pressing into his thigh through the lining of his pocket. Despite knowing better, he fished his phone out. Muscle memory guided him through to his mailbox; consistently shitty judgment clicked on the sole message he found there. The rest of him tensed, awaiting impact.

As a general rule, Jimin didn’t hold on to voicemails — if he bothered to listen to them at all. He believed that anyone who truly needed to speak to him would text him if their first attempt went unanswered. Otherwise, they’d blow up his phone until he stopped screening their calls altogether. But he wasn’t great with rules, as he’d recently learned, so there was one exception:

Jimin had no idea why he kept yours after all this time, but he did. 

He played it every now and then; and every time he did, he asked himself why, never arriving at an answer. Self-flagellation was his best guess. After all, no good came from tear-soaked venom, especially not one year after the fact. Knowing better almost never meant doing better, however.

By now, he could likely recite it by memory.

You’re not going to listen to this, but I’ll say it anyway because I didn’t deserve what you did to me tonight, and you deserve to hear it. 

You then take a shallow, shaky breath. 

I’ve spent years — years — waiting for you to be brave. Followed you around like a fucking puppy, and for what? This? 

The crack in your voice is smoothed over by a humorless laugh.

I’ve wasted my own breath defending you to other people when you’re not even there — and I wish I could swallow it all back down.

Then, the coup de grâce:

You are every awful thing people say about you.

For weeks, Jimin beat himself over the head with that last line until he could barely get out of bed. You knew him, knew how much something like that would hurt him — especially when it came from you. Still, you said it anyway, convinced that he wasn’t still the person you thought he was. Back then, two questions spun relentlessly in the back of his mind:

If you wielded that particular knife intentionally, did he really know you? Why would he bother with an explanation or apology when you wrote him off so quickly, so completely?

Groaning loudly, Jimin locked his phone and tossed it onto the mattress next to him just to scrub his hands over his face. It bounced and landed with a smack against the hardwood beneath his bed, but he didn’t flinch. He’d just have to add that to the list of things he’d fucked up lately.

Highest up on that list was breaking the rules of his own mind games. He wasn’t supposed to deviate. All he wanted to do — at the very start — was to hurt you back by proving you right. To finally meet your expectations for him, be every awful thing you said about him in that voicemail. At least, that’s what he thought he wanted. Now, he was left to question his motives. 

Was he unwilling to let that anger go, or was he unwilling to let you go? If it was truly ever about revenge, when did it stop?

Jimin asked himself that question as if he didn’t already know the answer. It stopped as soon as it started: when twenty years’ worth of wondering were over, and he finally knew what it felt like to hold you, even if the circumstances looked nothing like they should’ve.

Fuck.

You should’ve punched him for what he did to you, but you didn’t. The realization hit him instead, so hard that his ears were ringing. It was never you that he hated and it should’ve dawned on him a long time ago that all he’d ever been doing was projecting. He should’ve known that no matter how much he hated himself, he loved you more than that. 

He always had, hadn't he?

“Fucking idiot,” he growled to himself, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to stand. 

Once he pushed himself to his feet, he grabbed his car keys and coat from the place he’d dropped them upon returning from your house. He snatched that fucking phone, too, before heading for the front door to make that same trip again. When he opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide.

Seokjin was frozen with his fist raised to knock. It dropped back down to his side as soon as his surprise wore off. 

He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Got a minute?”

It was a mistake, agreeing to meet up with Jungkook for a boxing class. Following the morning’s events, you were still nursing a bruised elbow and, far worse than that, a slow-to-recover ego. Maybe the real problem was the bitterness that sat on the tip of your tongue and never left, no matter how hard you swallowed. Embarrassment, regret, some third emotion you had yet to categorize. One way or another, you were miserable.

You deserve it.

Exhausted and sweat-slicked, Jungkook sat down next to you on the bench you’d all but collapsed on to. To no one’s surprise, he was in significantly better shape than you; and unlike you, he still had the strength to move his arms. He pulled off his gloves, then he made short work of yours without you even needing to ask.

“I’m still not getting it,” he sighed. 

The two pairs of gloves dropped onto the floor in front of you with a muffled thump that was louder than his breath had been. 

“You’ve been fucking at an alarming frequency for a year, and you’re mad that he kissed you?”

You turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. Incredulous, you huffed, “First of all, what do you mean alarming?”

“I mean bi-weekly — at minimum,” he deadpanned.

This motherfucker.

The earnest, unimpressed look on his face prompted you to jab him in the ribs with your elbow long before you remembered your injury. When you hissed, he rolled his eyes. Then, nudging your shoulder with his, Jungkook’s tone softened. Gently, he asked, “What's actually bothering you?”

“He broke the rules.”

This caught his attention, and he paused. His hands fell motionless in his lap. “Oh,” was all he said. He now knew exactly why you’d been haunting the gym like some sick, sad, Victorian ghost for the past two hours; but judging by the way his brows knit together, he still didn’t have a clue what to do or say about it.

You scooted further back on your seat and pulled your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you’d sat on your living room floor a few hours earlier. Staring intently at the ground, you wondered if there was any way to disappear into the carpet — which someone absolutely should have vacuumed since your last appearance there, but clearly hadn’t. It was quiet for more than a few moments as you and your thoughts got lost in the crop circles of dirt amidst the fibers. 

Eventually, you mumbled, “This whole thing went haywire. It was working so well for so long, and now it’s fucked.”

Jungkook leaned against the wall, head tilted slightly to keep his eyes on you. With the corner of his mouth hitched up, he mused, “Was it really working, though?” 

You blinked dumbly back at him. 

“Is it possible that you weren’t doing this to hurt him? That — and I’m just spit-balling here — you just wanted to keep him around, one way or another?”

The brick in the pit of your stomach was sinking deeper, and its corners were starting to jab you in weak spots you weren’t previously aware of. 

Of course I wanted to hurt him. He hurt me first. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, in part to keep from snapping at Jungkook but largely because you wouldn’t know what to say if you did. He had a point, after all, and that was difficult to reconcile. Why else would you have kept at this little game for as long as you had?

That’s the worst part about a long con, isn’t it? It never, ever ends up the way you’d planned. The more time you invest in something, the harder it is to remember why you bought in to begin with. 

At the outset, you’d absolutely wanted to bring that boy to his knees. You had every intention of letting him fall on his face from there. He was supposed to feel as invisible and unwanted as you did when you sat at that table for two, all alone. Like cellophane, transparent. You were supposed to stay detached; it’s why you had rules in the first place. 

So, why did you keep it going? Why was it eating you up inside when those rules were broken, and you couldn’t? Did you start something, knowing in some hidden corner of your brain that you’d never want to stop?

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dropped your face into your hands and muttered, “Fuck.”

Jungkook, in an attempt to be comforting, slung his arm around your shoulder. His skin was as clammy as yours, instantly causing you to squeal, but he didn’t let you squirm away. Instead, he encircled you, pinning your arms to your sides in the process. He grunted through his laughter, “Let me — comfort — you — you fucking cactus!”

“Hands to yourself, swamp ass!” You warned, still wriggling.

The dangerous look you tried to send him was lost; it crumpled with your face as you laughed hard enough to make your abdominal muscles even more sore. You flailed, but as you tried to get to your feet, his arms constricted. He smiled in that signature Jungkook way — all front teeth and pursed lips — as if caging you in was child’s play.

You whined, “I mean it. I can throw a punch now!”

It took him next to no effort to subdue you completely, leaving you to wonder what the fuck those boxing classes were truly worth. Dejected, you had no option but to slump against him like a rag doll, panting and considering requesting a refund.

“For the record,” Jungkook sighed, “You’re just as gross.”

You scowled even though you faced away from him. “Shut up.”

He glanced down at you. In a matter of seconds, his smirk reappeared on his face. Flexing an eyebrow, he teased, “So, what’s first on your agenda when you get home? Showering or telling Jimin you’re in love with him?”

You knew he said it primarily to fuck with you, that he didn’t mean for it to bruise, but it did. Because, while it was true, that realization didn’t clean up the mess you’d made. It didn’t erase what Jimin did, either, which made things all the more complicated. He knew how much it would hurt — there’s no way he didn’t — and he still didn’t show up for you. 

So, what? 

What difference did it make if you loved him? You always had, on some level; and he didn’t feel the same. He never had. The only difference time had made was that now, you couldn’t remember how to let people in. You locked that part of you in a vault to keep yourself safe, and then you swallowed the key. Even if his feelings had changed, he’d never be able to slip past defenses you yourself didn’t know how to lower. 

And if that was the case, why would he bother trying?

Jungkook suddenly released his hold around you. Startled, you glanced up over your shoulder at him just in time to watch his mouth curve upwards. Unintentionally, yours did too. 

“Seems like there’s an overdue conversation to have, yeah?” He hummed.

You nodded, looking back down at your hands in your lap.

“Just — please, shower first. You are ripe.”

When you were nine, your parents enrolled you in dance classes at a local studio. They said that you had more energy than they knew what to do with, that a physical outlet for it all would be good for you. And even though Seokjin was fourteen at the time, he knew better. He knew that decision had nothing whatsoever to do with you.

The truth — which he was sure you realized now — was that your parents needed somewhere to put you on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

That year was the first in which Seokjin’s soccer team was worth watching. So much so, in fact, that they’d made it to the quarterfinals of a local tournament. He knew it, even back then, that it was meaningless; just a group of shithead teens vying for a trophy they’d sell at a garage sale the following summer. More importantly, he knew that kind of thought isn’t one a ninth-grader should have to have. Your parents didn’t seem to get it, so, he figured, someone should.

They were present for every practice —  every Tuesday and Thursday — without fail. They cheered through all of them as if it was the final they were watching, not Seokjin running drills in a bright purple practice jersey. Then, when practice was over, they’d shower him with praise that a fourteen-year-old should’ve basked in. Every time, he’d have to cut them off and remind them of the empty seat next to his in the back of the minivan. Someone needed to notice when you weren’t around.

He was good at that, nudging them, even though he shouldn’t have had to be — and he only fucked up once.

On one drive home, he was too engrossed in his Nintendo DS to think twice when his parents asked him to choose between grabbing dinner with them and going home. Seokjin chose the latter; they dropped him off and headed out to whatever restaurant they’d chosen.

After an hour, he wandered to the kitchen to eat whatever the fuck he wanted to for dinner. His head was buried in the refrigerator when a loud knock at the front door scared him so badly that he smacked his head against a shelf, cursing loudly without any adults nearby to yell at him for it. Confused, he shuffled off towards the foyer, glanced through the peephole, and shoved the door open.

It didn’t make sense, Jimin appearing on his doorstep without calling first. That is, until Seokjin saw you clinging to Jimin’s hand with wet eyes and a trembling lip.

“Forgot my water bottle and went back for it, saw her sitting by herself on a bench outside the studio,” Jimin explained through gritted teeth.

He could’ve dropped your hand at any point after walking you from the studio to your house, but he held it still. “Hyung, she was out there for an hour.”

Seokjin was fourteen the first — and only — time he dropped you. Jimin, at just twelve, was there to pick you up. 

Now, well over a decade later, it was Seokjin standing on Jimin’s doorstep. Though the two of them had grown significantly since then, the reason for the sudden drop-in hadn’t changed. Everything else aside, they would always have that one thing in common: You.

“Hyung, do you —” Jimin had barely said a word, and yet he was already stammering. If his eyes bugged out any further, Seokjin worried he’d have to clean them up off the doormat. “D’you wanna come in?”

The youngest stepped to the side, opened the door wide enough for the eldest to slip into the entryway. All the while, it looked like he was actively working to not shit himself. Thankfully, Seokjin had been inside more times than he could count, and he knew his way by heart: straight to the refrigerator to grab two beers.

He tossed one to Jimin, whose nerves nearly made him fumble it. The can smacked into his chest when his hands lagged behind, coming to life just in time to prevent it from free-falling to the floor.

“So,” Seokjin started.

He cracked open his beer without taking his eyes off Jimin, or letting a single emotion register on his face. It might have been a shitty thing to do, but he’d always loved watching Jimin squirm; and this was the most uncomfortable he’d seen his friend in decades.

“Anything you want to tell me, or should I just go for it?”

Jimin’s jaw clenched tightly enough that Seokjin could practically see the blood flowing through the vein protruding from his neck below. Clearly, he was trying to find his words. Lucky for him, Seokjin wasn’t known for his patience. He took over without wasting another second.

He sighed, “I always suspected that you were an idiot, but I didn’t know you were this dumb.”

Dead silence, save for what might’ve been all of Jimin’s synapses sizzling at once.

“No, seriously,” Seokjin snorted. Eyebrow raised, he lifted his hand and gestured to Jimin with his beer. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so concerned.”

Jimin’s forehead crinkled as he attempted to catch up. “I — what?”

Heaving a put-upon sigh, Seokjin dropped down into his usual stool at Jimin’s kitchen counter. Elbow to granite, he propped his cheek onto the heel of his hand. 

Really, he hoped that years’ worth of friendship meant that Jimin could buffer a little fucking faster. The open-mouthed gawking indicated otherwise, to Seokjin’s dismay. Annoyed that his beautiful mind wasn’t being telepathically read, Seokjin groaned. “You think I throw that fucking Valentine’s Day party every year for — what, my health? My girlfriend only likes me half the time, man. Come on.”

Jimin simply blinked in response, like it was all his brain could manage.

“I’ve been trying to push the two of you together for years,” Seokjin huffed. “I’ve expended so much effort that I should be financially compensated, frankly, but that’s beside the point."

At the rate Jimin’s mouth was opening and closing, Seokjin could’ve easily mistaken him for a caught fish, gasping for air. Nevertheless, he persisted. "I even conned you into playing chauffeur this last time, thinking that maybe that would do it — and you waited another half a year to make a move? Babo.”

The confusion eventually gave way to something unreadable, though, right before Jimin’s hand raised. He landed a swift smack on Seokjin’s bicep with a growl before Seokjin could even think to brace himself. 

“Are you kidding?” Jimin shouted.

Oh, you’re mad mad.

Jimin kept swatting, punctuating every word with a hit. “You’re — you — fuck!” 

He gave up with a yell and slammed his fists down on the countertop, making Seokjin jump. Just as quickly, Jimin crumpled at the center, doubled over so that his entire upper body rested on top of his folded arms. His forehead dug into the knuckles of his thumbs, which curled around tightly clenched fists. Though Jimin had squeezed his eyes shut, Seokjin could make the educated guess that he was seeing red.

“First of all, what the fuck was that?” Seokjin scoffed.

In a flash, Jimin’s eyes cracked open. Instead of anger, there was something else buried there. Something sobering that made Seokjin’s stomach turn. He felt even worse when Jimin spoke again, sounding outright defeated:

“That shit you said about Chan and his sister,” Jimin grumbled, mouth unable to move fully with the way he’d slumped. “What was I supposed to take from that?”

Seokjin was at a loss, so he took a swig of his beer and swallowed it with a sigh. “What shit? I haven’t talked to Chan in — fuck —  year or so now.”

Jimin stood up just enough to press his palms to the countertop, head still hanging while he leaned. “About me being lucky that he didn’t make me swallow my teeth?”

Oh.

Fuck.

Seokjin frowned. For as long as he could remember, his love language had been fucking with people. With you, with Jimin, and with Jungkook, once he popped into the picture. There was a silent understanding that his little pranks and digs were a sign of affection. If he didn’t mess with someone, it was safe to assume that he didn’t give a shit about them. 

Until now, he hadn’t thought twice about that conversation with Jimin because it wasn't any different than every other conversation they’d ever had. Clearly, he’d struck a nerve he never intended to aim at. Goddamnit.

He grimaced. “You held off because of me?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, then he sank down on to the stool on the opposite side of the counter. Incredulous, he scoffed, “Was I supposed to see that as a green light?”

Seokjin didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He nursed his beer in silence, eyes downcast. Jimin, of course, had a point. Several, it seemed, because he continued, “You and your sister are adept at kneecapping people, whether or not it’s intentional.”

It was a direct hit, as far as Seokjin was concerned. He wasn’t the best at reading the room. On the other hand, you were always extremely sensitive to other people’s feelings. It was this consideration that prompted him to raise an eyebrow and ask, “What do you mean?”

Jimin swallowed hard. Whatever he wanted to say was visibly lodged in his throat, unwilling to budge. To help knock it loose, Seokjin — gently — smacked the center of Jimin’s back, right between the shoulder blades. His efforts earned him a scowl, but then an admission.

“Hyung, I fucked it up. Bad.” Jimin scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to hide.

Seokjin kept his expectant eyes fixed on him, silently pressuring him to keep talking.

“I blew her off a year ago because I’m chickenshit, and she still hates me for it. So, I’m sorry to say that the ship has fucking sailed — and then I capsized it — and now I’m drowning.”

Deep in thought, Seokjin turned his head away from Jimin to stare into the middle distance. He needed contemplative silence — or, if nothing else, to look pensive — but he found an out instead. Sitting on top of the counter on the far side of the kitchen was a toolbox. As he stared at it, the sound of Jimin’s ongoing melodrama gave way to gears turning.

“If I could talk to her, I think I could fix it, but that’s the problem —”

Blah, blah, blah.

Above all else, Seokjin was pragmatic. A schemer, always one step ahead. He raised his hand to cut Jimin off mid-monologue and asked, “You know anything about plumbing?”

Your drive home from the gym took twice as long as your drive there. Flying on autopilot, your eyes stuck to the road, and your hands went through the motions of turning the wheel, but your mind wasn’t in the car with you. If it was, you likely wouldn’t have driven past your freeway exit, not once but twice. 

Unfortunately for you, your inability to focus only got worse as heavy raindrops hit your windshield. Before you knew it, the smattering evolved into sheets so substantial that the drum of fallout against the metal roof left you somewhere close to hypnotized. Mind otherwise blank to your surroundings, all you could think about was Jimin and the steps you’d have to take next. 

Obviously, playing stupid games won you stupid prizes. If you kept it up, you’d shatter; and as far as you could tell, a clean break from him was the only thing that might keep you in one piece. You had to shut it all down, crawl back into your bunker, and wait it out. Resurface, maybe, when you stopped wanting him.

When it was safe. 

After nearly missing your street, you managed to wind up in your own driveway. Despite reaching your destination, you couldn’t peel yourself out of your seat. The umbrella tucked into the side compartment of your passenger door could’ve gotten you to your front door without too much trouble, but the threat of getting drenched wasn’t what pinned you down. It was the fact that, once again, you were the butt of some cosmic joke. A bookend.

Your first night with Jimin looked just like this one. How fitting that the ending would be waterlogged, too.

Before you could sink into that pit of nostalgia, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached across the passenger seat for your umbrella. It fought you on the way out of its resting place, snagging against the lip of the molded plastic and threatening to rip. With one last, careful tug, you freed it. You opened your door with your left hand while unwrapping the velcro band with your right.

The effort was ultimately useless. The rain pelted the pavement with such force that it ricocheted, like it was raining from the ground up. Your socks and shoes were soaked within seconds, squelching with every step as you scurried up the path to your doorstep. For once, the universe sided with you and allowed you to unlock your door on the first attempt, rather than the third.

“Motherfucker,” you muttered to no one as you skidded, dripping, over the threshold.

Dumping your umbrella next to your hastily discarded shoes, you tossed your keys onto their designated hook and made a beeline for the shower, shivering as the rush of air cooled your wet skin. As you went, you fought for your life against your soaked sweatshirt, which had all but doubled its weight on your trek in from the car. The combination of its heavy fabric and your laughably sore muscles had you panting before your feet found the tile floor they sought.

Of course, that was cold, too. 

You hissed, “Motherfucker,” while slamming the door shut behind you. After chucking the remainder of your clothes in the general direction of your over-filled hamper, you bent down and turned the shower handle as far to the left as it could go. You might have ended up melting your skin off your body, but at least that chill in your bones would be gone.

You couldn’t put your finger on it right away, but something was different. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, you glanced between the shower head and the drain, like staring intently enough would reveal some sort of secret. Eventually, it clicked. 

It alarmed you that nothing alarmed you. Aside from the stream hitting the floor, it was quiet. No groaning, no ominous clanking or sputtering — just water, unaccompanied, at the temperature you asked for.

“What —?” Your voice trailed off before you could finish talking to yourself.

For eighteen months, you sent consistent, increasingly angry, written notices to your landlord, begging him to fix whatever was wrong with your plumbing. At the very least, you wanted him to look into it and confirm you weren’t just hallucinating. He ignored you, time and again, until you’d given up entirely. Of course, he waited until then to do something, like it was out of the goodness of his own heart and not the result of your incessant nagging. 

And — exactly as you expected — it took him no time at all to fix it. Less than the duration of your occasional cameo at the gym.

Unable to stop yourself, you rolled your eyes and scoffed as you stepped into the shower, letting the frustration evaporate with the steam. It left you with a sigh that bordered a moan, so surprising and genuine that you embarrassed yourself. “Oh, fuck.”

You’d almost forgotten what it felt like, showering with adequate water pressure and without groaning pipes. It was perfect. If you could have, you would’ve stayed there for the rest of the night, ignoring the consequences waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Maybe, you thought, you could watch it all slip down the drain — the dread, all those feelings you never consented to having. You could hide there and scrub yourself clean of the mess you’d made while trying to fix yourself. The hot water supply didn’t support your plan, however, and your hour of boiling yourself like a dumpling came to a tragic, increasingly chilled end. 

Faster than you ever had before, you yanked a towel off the nearby rack, encircled yourself with it, and hopped out onto the bath mat. Unlike earlier that day, you intended to rip the metaphorical bandage off quickly. You wanted to thrust yourself out into the hallway before you could get too comfortable in the holdover warmth inside the bathroom. That intention didn’t get you far, though.

As soon as you turned for the door, you saw the note taped to the back of it. The moisture had made the ink bleed slightly, but the message was still legible. In handwriting you could easily pick out of a lineup, it read: 

Hope I didn’t make it worse. Should I send the bill to your landlord? Also, you really need to find a better spot for your spare. Not safe!  — J

Motherfucker.

Jimin was elbow-deep in dishes when he heard something resembling a thump.

At the rate the storm had kicked up outside, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the wind overturned his garbage can, or knocked a branch loose from the tree looming over his front porch. Whatever it was, it was muffled under the rush of water spilling out of the sky in waves. So, he shrugged and went back to scrubbing the pan he’d used to make dinner.

When the last remnants of his meal were washed away, he used the back of his wrist to push the faucet lever down. Without the additional flow of water, he heard that noise again — louder now, pace almost frantic. His brow furrowed as he pulled off his dish gloves. He hung them carefully over the faucet to dry, then he turned to investigate the source of the sound.

The closer he got to the front of his house, the clearer it became that the noise had nothing to do with the weather. In fact, if he had to bet, Jimin would’ve guessed it was Seokjin showing up unannounced for the second time that day.

“Hyung, I know you love me, but why are you —” Jimin started to whine as he flicked the porch light on and jerked the door open. “— So needy?”

He should’ve known better by now than to make guesses. It never, ever ended up being the Kim he expected.

Instead, it was you, dripping so thoroughly that you may as well have been melting. Your hair was windswept in every direction with wayward pieces of it sticking to your cheekbones. As much of a mess as you were, he couldn’t help but think that you looked beautiful this way, too. If it weren’t for that look on your face, he would’ve reached out to push some of those strands back, away from your eyes.

Oh. 

You were crying.

Suddenly panicked, he opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“Why did you do it?” You demanded. The tremor in your voice didn’t match the scowl on your face. “I deserve to know why.”

His eyes widened, eyebrows rising steadily as he cobbled together a response. “Your plumbing is garbage and so is your landlord.” He held up his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry for letting myself in, but I didn’t think you would —”

“No,” you interrupted, voice cracking. 

The fist you’d used to bang on his door unfurled slightly, leaving one finger to point accusingly at him. The gesture had him pinned in place, as if you were brandishing a gun instead.

“Why the fuck would you ask me out if you were just going to bail on me? Why — You didn’t even answer the phone.” You were one breath away from sobbing, but you pressed on. “You can’t do that and then do what you did today. You can’t. It’s not fucking fair.”

Before he could do anything — say a word, let you inside — you spun sharply on your heel to leave.

For once, he didn’t react too late. He grabbed your hand and kept you from slipping away. You paused, unsure of what to do with his touch, and refused to look back until his other hand landed gently on your shoulder. He couldn’t help the relieved sigh that slipped out of his mouth when you let him turn you back around.

You didn’t look up at him at first, which Jimin guessed was an attempt to hide away. Making yourself invisible wasn’t something you used to do on purpose, so watching you do it in real time made him ache. Try as you might, it wouldn’t work on him. He’d always known where to look to find you.

“Come inside?" He wasn’t above begging, so that’s precisely what he did. "Please.”

Your eyes lifted from your shoes to glance between Jimin and your car in his driveway. While he didn’t blame you, it stung like hell to know he’d turned you into someone inclined to run. He would’ve let it happen, if that’s what you wanted — dropped your hand and watched you go — no matter how much he wanted you to stay.

But you didn’t leave. 

There was a microscopic nod, then you followed him over the threshold. Once the door shut behind you, Jimin let go of your hand so you could take off your shoes and jacket. He took the latter and hung it from the nearby hook, then he asked, “Do you want something of mine to wear? I can throw yours in the dryer.”

You shook your head, unwilling to let yourself be any more vulnerable than you had been already. You lied, “I’m fine.”

Jimin frowned, but he didn’t push you. Instead, he let you take the lead, falling in step behind you as you made your way to his kitchen. Unlike Seokjin, you didn’t take to rummaging through his refrigerator; you simply stood in the corner of the counter and held yourself with crossed arms.

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin took a seat on the opposite side and waited — for what, he wasn't sure. Some sort of sign, yelling, anything. All he got was quiet, save for the sniffling you couldn’t mask. You weren’t even looking at him.

Fuck it. Here we go.

“I can’t give you an excuse because there isn’t one,” he started. “All I have is an explanation, and even that’s shitty.”

This caught your attention. There was a small flicker of amusement in your eyes, though it was gone as soon as it appeared. It was encouraging, even if it was brief.

“You were right when you called me a coward. Fucking childish, too, but I’m not going to sit here and recite the laundry list of things I hate about myself because that doesn’t constitute an apology — that’s just bullshit, and I’ve put you through enough of that.”

Looking at the hurt broadcasted on your face made his throat tight, so he cleared it and prayed he could keep himself together long enough to spill everything he’d been holding back. To keep his focus, he fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. It wasn’t lost on him that the one he gravitated towards was the one you’d gifted him on his birthday several years prior.

There were pieces of you scattered over every surface of his life, his body included.

Fuck.

“Nobody that loves someone should treat them the way I treated you. I fucked it up — all of it — and I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, expression shifting slightly from hurt to something unreadable. With a shaky sigh, he added, “I should’ve said it a year ago, and I’m sorry for that, too.”

The silence that followed spread like smoke, clouding the space between you. Maybe that’s why he struggled to regulate his breathing. That, or the crushing weight of anticipation on his chest while he waited for you to react — to yell, to leave, to do anything.

To his surprise, what he got was a whisper.

“Why didn’t you?”

Jimin’s eyes switched focus from his hands to your face. He expected to find something accusatory there, but he didn’t. If anything, you looked almost expectant, like you knew the answer before you asked but needed to hear him say it. He didn’t want to — it seemed so trivial now — but he'd gotten sick of not giving you what you wanted, so he answered, “Your voicemail.”

You nodded slowly, thoughtfully, while you processed your response. A few more leaden seconds of silence passed before you finally spoke.

“I wanted to hurt you. I knew exactly what to say to do it, which is…” Your voice trailed off as you searched for your next words. “Unhinged." You shook your head quickly and amended, "No, it’s worse than that. It’s — it’s fucking abhorrent, that's what it is.”

Despite himself, Jimin couldn’t bite back his smile. He whistled. “That’s a big word.”

“You are being so unserious right now,” you scolded him. You scowled and put your hands on your hips like some disciplinarian parent — it was futile. Jimin could see you pressing your lips together to keep your laughter inside, clear as day. “Can you let me finish atoning, please?”

“Can I grab a dictionary first?” He countered with a smirk. 

Instantly, your incredulousness washed from your widened eyes to your mouth, which fell open. “I swear to God —”

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine, fine. I’m listening, okay? I swear.” You just glared at him, so he said it again. “I promise. Please keep going.”

You took a deep breath and spit the rest of it out quickly, likely expecting him to interrupt you again. “I wanted to hurt you, and there is clearly a part of me that is fundamentally unwell because I didn’t just leave it at that.”

This was a twist he hadn’t seen coming, and it left Jimin thoroughly confused. Head tilted and eyebrows furrowed, he asked, “You didn’t?”

“No,” you sighed. Sheepishly, you scrubbed your hands over your face. They lingered, intentionally or not, as if you were building another wall between the two of you. “I wanted to string you along, make you want me, and then cut you loose.”

Your head drooped, defeated. “I told you. Deeply unwell.”

Jimin was stunned, but not for the reason you seemed to think. His brain buffered, slowing his speech while he tried to process the situation. “You were toying with me?”

In a flash, your gaze snapped up to meet his. Bewildered was the only word he could think of to describe the look on your face. He couldn’t help it; he laughed, “That’s what I thought I was doing.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you wailed, throwing your head back.

Without watching where you were going, you still managed to successfully crumple onto a stool. From there, you deflated fully onto the countertop, limbs spread out and cheek flush against the granite. You muttered, “I hate us. I really do.”

Jimin mumbled in agreement, too stupefied to comment further. Several minutes passed that way, silently, as you each attempted to piece together the thing you’d — unknowingly, jointly — blown straight to hell. 

“Jimin?”

You startled him for two reasons, the least of which being the suddenness of your voice in all that quiet. More than anything, it was your unexpected use of his name. His given name.

After a year of you calling him exclusively by his family name, Jimin was ready to assume that you’d forgotten what followed it. It sounded like a foreign language to him now, so much so that he had to pause to make sure he heard you correctly.

Barely audible, you admitted, “I don’t know why I am the way I am. And I don’t know how to do this — to want this. Not properly, anyway. Not yet.”

So, you did hear him earlier. 

He didn’t necessarily mean to confess that fact with the rest of his sins. In fact, he was content to let it dissipate when you didn’t acknowledge it floating out there. He didn’t need you to say it back, or even feel it; he just needed to let it out of the cage he’d kept it locked in. And once he did, he pushed past it so quickly that he genuinely believed you might’ve missed it, but you didn’t.

You heard him, and you didn’t leave.

“Can we go back to the beginning?” You asked, sitting upright and turning your head to look at him fully. “We both have so much shit to work through, but I —”

“Hi,” he interrupted. 

You blinked, caught off guard. Arm extended, he reached over the counter and held his hand out to you. Cautiously, you accepted it, smile spreading slowly when he shook it, and you finally caught on. 

“I’m Jimin.”

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[amagicbeyond]

He missed the summer, those hot days and firefly nights, Ronan’s hands roaming up his shirt, Ronan’s stubble scratching his chin. He missed the midnight drives, the wind, the terrible music that sounded like sex to Adam nevertheless; the sidelong glances, the teasing smirks. He missed the dreaming: of Lindenmere, better than before; of the trinkets and baubles they created together—a puzzle they both enjoyed, where Adam’s logic and Ronan’s whimsy each bore equal strength. He missed the magic, filling his veins and his breath and his mind, letting him disconnect from being whichever Adam Parrish he was being called upon to be, and find community with everything else on the ley line that lived and moved and breathed and loved and wanted.

He missed being Adam Parrish.

*

If you read the Dreamer trilogy and you, like me, thought, “Hmm, not enough Adam Parrish for me”—this may be the fic you didn’t know you were looking for. This story is complete, canon-compliant, and spans the timeframe of Greywaren from Adam’s POV, featuring both missing scenes, scenes retold, and flashbacks as we fully explore Adam’s arc and the choices he makes between the pages of the book... and the happy ending these boys deserve. ❤️ read it on ao3, or read the first chapter below: 

Chapter One: Lonely

Is this a heart attack or did my troubles find a way to paint my heart this black?

- “Lonely,” by BANNERS

Adam Parrish was walking.

He walked with a deliberate pace, one scuffed leather sneaker in front of the other, measuring each step as though a misplaced footfall would release a trap door, send him tumbling through the ether of his blackened heart, his disobedient mind. It wouldn’t stop, it was stuck, replaying their last phone call, the desperate plea in Ronan’s voice. His unholy silence when something Adam said had revealed Declan’s betrayal. Adam’s betrayal.

He hadn't meant for it to be a betrayal.

I just wanted to keep you safe.

I just wanted to keep you mine.

Adam kept walking, because if he stopped walking, his misery would catch up to him, and he couldn’t have that. He needed to think.

How many sleepless nights, when before, sleep had been too precious a commodity to waste? Before shopping carts and sweat-drenched summer evenings, before squealing tires and sleeping cows and the dangerous smirk that curled only in the corner of Ronan’s mouth. Sleepless, because his carefully constructed future was hurtling toward something far more frightening, far more appealing, far more vulnerable, far more alive.

Sleepless, when Ronan was not dreaming beside him, when his tiny attic bedroom was cold and his chest was warm and his throat ached with the fullness of it all, with what they were becoming, Adam-and-Ronan, Ronan-and-Adam. Trying to convince himself that it was too good, it was too fragile, it was too hard to hold onto. That it didn’t fit the plan.

He would nearly manage it, until he heard the roar of a beloved BMW’s engine pulling up to Boyd’s, saw the fire that lived in Ronan’s eyes, felt the early morning mist of the Barns on his skin. And then he’d pull Ronan roughly into the most convenient corner and kiss him until he forgot to think, mouths and hands and heat and tongue, Adam-and-Ronan and Ronan-and-Adam, one and the same, complete and compatible and not at all marching steadfastly in two different directions, a few months, a few weeks, a few days from now.

And now?

Adam’s phone rang, shrill, in the cold, early morning.

He did not check; he knew who it was. Adam lifted the phone to his hearing ear without speaking.

Declan Lynch did not waste time on niceties either, they were months and miles and a shared dreamer past that. “You got something for me?”

Adam wondered dully if he hated Declan, or if talking to Declan was just too much like looking into a mirror for Adam to ever do anything but endure a conversation with him.

“The ley line’s still gone,” he said. How many days now? Every morning, Declan’s call. Every morning, the same answer. “Everywhere. No change.”

He dreaded the next question, even though Declan never finished it.

“Any word from…”

Still gone. No change.

“You know where to find me,” said Declan Lynch, impossible like every Lynch, and hung up the phone.

Adam kept walking.

Adam was walking, his daily rounds, from his dorm first to the oldest tree in Cambridge, a twisted gargoyle that was no more willing to give up its secrets today than when he first tried to scry there, in this staunchly unmagical city he’d chosen for himself, the one that refused to be called home.

Home was rolling green and lush with life and energy, and Adam ached with the knowledge of it.

He didn’t know if he was allowed to call it home anymore.

Adam kept walking. He walked for a long time.

He pulled out a key and opened the door to the auto shop where he worked on weekends. He did not stop walking until he was in the damp in-between, the mostly-forgotten corridor he’d discovered only because he’d been looking for ley line energy, and found it here, wedged in between the past and the present.

Found the ley line, and found this. He knew now that it was called a sweetmetal.

The mural was mostly-forgotten too, painted lustily on cinder blocks, something winged and clawed and not nearly as magical as the energy that hummed from it, even now, when Adam’s senses felt muffled and heavy with the deadness of the city around him. He’d come here to scry, before, the ley line strong enough here to let him reach out and grasp the endless magic he’d left behind in Virginia, the Adam Parrish he’d left behind in Virginia.

There was nothing to reach for now. It was gone. It was all gone.

“Ronan,” Adam said, a broken voice in the dark. It was a plea. It was an accusation. A curse, all at once. He might have been praying.

The sweetmetal’s magic taunted him. He’d been scrying, or attempting to, stupidly, in his dorm room, when the ley line had left him. It had left him, just as he’d glimpsed Ronan from the corner of his eye, or something masquerading as Ronan, twisted and ashen. He’d stretched out a hand—or what passed for one, when you were mostly a consciousness—and then he’d found himself blinking, into a flickering brightness that was too harsh, too wrong, too real.

His wakening had been nothing like the long journey back into his body when he ended his scrying on his own terms, nothing like the violence of drawn blood and blades when he didn’t. He’d simply—opened his eyes. He’d been Adam Parrish, magician, uncanny, and then just as quickly, Adam Parrish, Harvard student. Unremarkable.

The ley line was gone.

Ronan was gone.

Please.

Adam didn’t know how to pray. He didn’t know who to pray to.

There was a furious burn behind his eyes, and he swiped his hand across his face. He turned his back on the sweetmetal.

“Damn you,” he whispered.

Adam kept walking.

*

read the rest on ao3

This is going to hurt before it gets better, but you already know that. And when it gets better, we're going all in. 💕

[deadrlngers]

— WIP DAY

tagged by @risingsh0t thank you so much alyssa mwah <3

tagging: @arklay @morvaris @nuclearstorms @devilbrakers @uldwynsovs @girlbosselrond @faarkas @galacticvales @indorilnerevarine @camelliagwerm @denerims @reaperkiller and anyone other cool writer mutual that would like to share a wip but i'm a clown and forgot to tag

pushing forward my italian fenix agenda in this one, be warned

“There’s I love you and then there’s ti voglio bene.” He began explaining, one of his playful smirks acting as a frame to pretty confusing words. “It’s like– I care for you, I want to see you happy, I wish you all the good in this world, I–” A brief pause. His chin rested on the palm on his hand now, a sour expression telling Vesper – which didn’t dare to pull her gaze away from Fenix, not even for a moment – how bothered he was from the lack of a clean and straight translation. “It’s difficult to explain, believe me. Thing is…Love? Passes, it goes away very easily. What I call ‘bene’? That’s what sticks, or at least it leaves way more hardly.”

Audacious, that’s how Vesper replayed his reasoning in her thoughts, and that, by extension, made his previous question audacious as well; yet Fenix didn’t look fazed, nor shy or a touch embarrassed – and not of the bad kind, but the type of embarrassment of a first ‘I love you’ muttered to someone special. No, he looked positively neutral, as if he just talked of the weather or the latest news.

“Let me ask again now.” His previous smile disappeared as quickly as a snap of fingers and suddenly, other than unlikely to ever happen, Fenix appeared to be the most serious man on earth. “Mi vuoi bene?”

Silence, a matter of a few seconds that felt like hours nonetheless. “Do you? For me?”

Deflecting. Not surprising. “I asked first.”

“I say let the native speaker have the honour.”

Fenix unchained a short, amused chuckle he tried to supress as best as he could. He’s a serious man after all, or at least he tries. He shook his head, a side to side movement of enamorment, and tapped the butt of his beer bottle a few times against the concrete once more. “Yes.”

“What’s that thing you say?” Vesper hummed, unconsciously allowing the back of her boots to hit the wall in time with his glass tapping. “One word is not much, but two are too many?”

A grin tugged upward their features as they shared a knowing look. How good it felt to be noticed. In every single idiotic thing he ever said as well. In thirty years, hopefully, they would still remind each other of the useless stuff the other forgot about. “Your turn.” He pressed on, focusing back on what was his true aim. An unwillingly admitted truth.

Vesper’s eyes wandered off into the skyline of Night City: she pondered the question with a palpable uneasiness – nose scrunched up in the usual bothered fashion and lips pressed tight. Far too easy to tell how she despised any inquiry that investigated too deep into her mind and pushed her, back facing the wall with no way to escape, into voicing elaborate emotions she had no intention of acknowledging. Instead Fenix leaned forward, still holding the edge of the parapet with choking anxiety for the dizzying height of the building. Expectant, and too eager to hear her speak.

With a tilt of the head she gathered her thoughts like futile trinkets one needs to throw away, and shaped them into words. “I think at some point I did stop loving you, back then.” Vesper admitted with a thin line of somber voice as she recalled the past.  She didn’t bother with more justifications, more words; explanations at this point, between them, would be a mere show of barking at the moon – a cussing in vain. “But I guess I never stopped…” a hum followed and her eyes met again with his curiously yellow-green coloured ones “that thing you said, already forgot the word.”

Oddly, as Fenix could never manage to stay quiet for too long when he had material to perform his insufferable tricks of provocations, he kept silent for a moment. Just enough to let the words sink in, that pinch of sweetness and bitterness alike.

“Then repeat after me.” He proposed with a newly blossomed smile. Vesper rolled her eyes but she turned slightly her torso to the side anyway: to face his stupidly handsome face better and don’t miss one single movement of his unbearable lips. For language learning purposes, of course.

Student now ready to be taught, he began. Ti. Repeat. Voglio. Repetition, just like a parrot. Then an abrupt stop.

“Yeah, that can be enough too.” Fenix’s smile was too arrogantly smug now for Vesper’s tastes, but she preferred to ignore any more Italian teaching for the night."

[just-want-fluff]

fuck everyone but you

part 3 of the cigarette duet series

(masterlist)

eddie munson x gender neutral reader

cw: smoking, swearing

“I swear to God, I will murder you, Sunwell”. What a lovely way to wake up with a hangover.

I stare back at Steve, who was pacing around the bedroom already dressed, hand covering his mouth, unsure of what to do with himself. Robin was unbothered, sat on the rocking chair contemplating who had actually gone crazy: her friend—who was now walking in circles—or her other friend—who had disappeared last night only to come back and pass out immediately after.

“Not if I murder you first, Harrington!” I got a sudden burst of energy and jumped from the king sized bed, essentially jumping onto Steve’s back while I laughed. I stopped laughing when my head started pulsating. Goddamn hangover.

“Hey! Hey!” Robin sat up and tackled me, grabbing my arms and helping me get down from Steve’s piggy ride. “No murdering, okay? Not with everything that’s going on right now.”

“Look, I know I was late last night, I’m sorry. However, I am my own person. Speaking of which, I have just realized that it is embarrassingly late in the day and”—I take a pause for dramatic effect, raising up my pointer finger into the sky—“I have shit to do!”

I messily get dressed, gather my bag and check that my lighter is still in my jeans and that last night was not just some weird drunk hallucination I had of meeting Eddie Munson, which it wasn’t, in case you were wondering.

Steve and Robin also have to hurry so we all hop in the car, music blasting: Steve drives, Robin struggles with her mascara, basically tearing her eyelid apart, and I sit in the backseat as the freeloader. _____________________________ The sun sets once again, like it did the day before. I was in the parking lot of beloved Hawkings High, basically staring through the sun with my yellow sunglasses on. I try remembering what exactly I talked to Eddie about, but a single part of the conversation kept replaying in my head: “Same time and place tomorrow?”

Was it a joke? Or did he genuinely want to relight the chaotic friendship we had three years ago? I looked at the sunlit clock by the school, struggling to make out the time, but after some squinting it read “6.32”, close enough to the time I went out into the woods last night. I didn’t really have anything to do so, fuck it, right? At least, that was my mindset as I plugged in my headphones prepared for the long walk over to Skull Rock.

At last, I found myself sitting on the same rock as I did 24 hours ago, afraid I might be stuck in some time loop. This was so dumb, I thought. I’m so fucking stupid, I thought. Of course some old friend who I almost forgot existed wasn’t gonna show up, it was just a poor joke.

I lit up a cigarette, frustrated with myself. I stood up and walked around, looking at the poor scribbled trees with all the couples that wrote their names along the years. I basically couldn’t make out a distinct heart or initials anymore, they were all layered over one another. I glanced at my backpack and took out a permanent marker. Why hurt nature when you could make much more permanent art without harming anything? I looked at the intimidating stones in front of me and started scribbling, doodling aimlessly with the black marker. When I took a step back I looked at a drawing of crow with wings wide open, its eyes censored by a black line.

I took out my white marker, wanting to write something over the black, but I was interrupted by a deja-vu, followed by a sweet yet deep voice.

“Holy shit, did you make that?” Eddie basically was summoned from behind a tree as he rushed, not caring which branches he stepped over. He jumped, landing right behind me, as if I wasn’t startled enough.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But this, this!” he said as he stared at the crow, tracing the black line with his long ring covered fingers and- damn he had cool rings. “This is fucking amazing, Sunwell!”

I sort of just look at him in disbelief, the marker frozen in my hands. Eddie notices my tenseness and I guess he gets awkward too, so he tries to lighten up the mood by taking the pen from my hand and looking at the drawing on the cold stone. “What were you planning to do here?” he says, pointing to the crow’s crossed out eyes.

“I think I wanted to write some edgy shit, but I’m out of ideas” I sigh, crossing my arms and looking down at my feet. When I look back up at Eddie I see what I think is the most beautiful smile I never thought a face could make. Naturally, I smile too and let out an embarrassed laugh.

“What is it?” I question him, sensing he has a mischievous idea.

“Let’s do one of those things like uh.. Oh, I know!” I can see his eyes literally spark as he turns around and starts writing. I try to walk up and see what he’s doing but his wide shoulders cover up the drawing. I can hear him giggle as finally turns around to show me his creation, arms happily held up and pointing as I read the text “Fuck everyone but you”.

I have no idea if he means me personally, if he means it in a dirty sense or if it’s just meant to be edgy, but for some reason I feel a warmth in my chest. Eddie had been looking at me expecting a reaction, which I just now noticed, so I quickly turn to face him.

“I love it”

He takes a step closer and puts his hands on my shoulders. We just stood like that for a moment, smiling like idiots. “Great, cause that would’ve been embarrassing”

In that moment—with his cool rings brushing against my exposed neck and with the sun through his curls—I seriously thought I might melt and die.

He let out a sigh as he dropped his hands back down.

“Hey, what were you doing here by the way?” I get the sudden urge to ask. Did he just stumble over and find me?

“I uh.. I come here a lot to smoke. So if you need me and I’m not at school or home.. Y’know”

“Good to know” I smile at him.

[hops-hunny]

Stories That Are Told

Pairing: Tarrant “Hatter” Hightopp x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n)’s so used to being the background character in everyone’s story that she forget she can be the main character in her own.

Warnings: Slight angst but majority fluff!

A/N: I love this man with my whole being omg pls

Stumbling into Wonderland with Alice had been a wonderful thing for not only Alice, but (Y/n) as well. For Alice it was an escape from all the things she didn’t wanna do and would never wanna do. She wasn’t forced to marry some sod of a guy who’d make her miserable for the rest of her life or to be the proper lady she was expected to be, but instead she got a taste of freedom. And although it was an escape for (Y/n) as well, it was an escape of a different kind.

In the other world, with it’s dreary skies and monotonous patterns and cycles, (Y/n) lived a very humdrum life. Her family had never been as fortunate as Alice in any ways of the sorts, it was a miracle that they were friends to begin with. Alice’s father had been friends with (Y/n)’s since boyhood and because of that, he always made sure they knew they were welcome to anything of his that they wished. And while (Y/n)’s father had never taken advantage of that from the way Alice’s mother treated (Y/n) and her family, it wouldn’t be hard to think otherwise.

When Charles was still around, she hadn’t done anything out of line. The older woman always kept to herself, occasionally having an afternoon cup of tea with her own mom. However, her true colors and feelings came to light after the passing of her husband. During the next few months after her husband’s absence, the (L/n)s were there for Kingsleighs. Although they didn’t have the funds to help them monetarily (for they also didn’t need it), they offered their labor and services to the two as much as they needed. Farm work, house cleaning, garden maintenance. Anything you could think they had done. But as soon as Helen was well (as well as you could be after losing someone so dear) , she had forbid them from coming to their property. She didn’t believe her and Alice should associate with people of “such low stature” because it didn’t “align with their image”. But that had never stopped Alice.

Anywhere Alice went, (Y/n) was always there by her side right along with her. They practically went everywhere together and that hadn’t changed since they arrived in Wonderland. (Y/n) was grateful that she had chased after her friend. It was like she knew something would happen. Afterall, crazy things always happen when you put two curious girls together for more than a moment. The friends they had made since they arrived were nothing short of lovely. She knew her sister would describe them as odd characters and disturbing individuals. Telling her to stay far away from them and to not associate herself with those types. But what was wrong with being odd or even disturbing? The only things worth doing in life were a bit odd and disturbing and if that made her peculiar than so be it. 

For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged. Sure, it wasn’t her story nor her destiny to be here as it was Alice but that did not mean she did not appreciate Wonderland for what it was. The story had never been her story, not here, and certainly not where they were from. Alice was the main chat and she was the topic that would get trickled in after. 

“Everyone has a part to play, (Y/n). Even if it is not large or as set in stone, each person’s role is necessary for the story to progress, even yours. You’ll see.” the words of that tricky caterpillar replayed in her head over and over again whenever she had a moment to think. What had he meant by that? Was her story not more than to be here in support of her dearest friend and the latest edition to their friends? Was she not just a tool in the scheme of things? (Y/n) had never known people of lesser importance as herself to contribute much of anything big to a legacy as large as Alice’s! 

From her end of the table, she watched as Hatter threw his hat high into the air before it landed on his head causing everyone to erupt in a jostled mess of laughter and cheering. She smiled fondly from a far. Tarrant was a kind man. No matter what was going on or where they were, he always had a way of making her feel included. That’s just who he was. He had known what it was like to feel excluded from things and the last thing he’d wanna do is be the cause of that for someone else. But it was nothing more than his nature, that’s it.

“You know, you should just tell him how you feel.” a velvety voice sounded from beside her ear causing her to jump. The (h/c) haired girl glared at the purple cat, reaching a hand to swat him away but he disappeared once more before appearing on her other side. “He watches you often, even when there is not many around to see. But I always do of course.” The Cheshire cat said in a sure tell tone. The girl scoffed at him, shoving another small pastry into her mouth.

“I’m not in the mood for one of your jokes today, cat. So if you’ve come to mock my feelings during my 2nd to last day in Wonderland, I wish you well and send you off.” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest, turning her gaze away from him back to Tarrant who was already looking at her. The Hatter gave her a secret wink and a smile before turning back to the March Hare who seemed rather frazzled about something. Or perhaps excited. But once again, the grinning cat appeared in front of her face once more.

“Silly girl, you ignore the plain truth in front of you? I can see why you and Alice get along so well, both of you can be quite foolish. Oh well, the story isn’t over yet after all.” and with that he was gone. What did he mean by that? The story was clearly over. Alice had done what she set out to do. The Jabberwocky had been slain, the White Queen ruled once again, and all had been made well. And what was with everyone with stories? Not everything you can do will always be a story and not every story comes to an end. She decided not to dwell much on it. This was her last night she’d ever spend in Wonderland and she’d rather like to keep it in good memory.

So when the White Queen offered her a hand to dance she took it, their dresses swaying in the wind in oppositional unison. They all danced with one another, twirling, laughing, and having a grand time. The entire time the smile never once left (Y/n)’s face which a certain hatted man enjoyed with all his being.

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

“I can’t believe you’re leaving today. It seems as if it was only yesterday when you arrived.” the girl swiveled around to see the red head there, a bittersweet smile on his face. His smile grew once she turned to face him. Removing his hat, he bowed as he grabbed one of her hands placing a delicate kiss to the top of it. “I am delighted to have known a woman as graceful as you.” hot tears sprung into her eyes which she quickly got rid of before he stood up. Giggling some she hopped onto the large sit swing, motioning for him to join her.

“Don’t get sad yet, Hatter. I’ve still got a few hours left. You can’t rid of me that easily.” he joined her on the swing, a wide grin still on his face. Although it was partly real, she could tell there was some sadness lingering behind it. (Y/n) turned her gaze to the sight in front of them. From the large benched swing, you could see just about all of wonderland over the edge of the cliff. “Besides, there’s not much to miss. I’m just me.”

“And ‘just you’ is a lot! I’ll miss everything about you. The way you mimic the bird calls you hear, the way you get excited when the rock you skipped across the water goes further than you imagined,” she looked at him in shock as he continued to speak, “E-even the smaller things like how you leave the crust of your sandwich for last and give your crumbs to the ants. But I think more importantly I’ll...I’ll just miss your presence.” he said the last part softly, staring off the edge of the cliff to avoid her gaze. A million thoughts raced through her heads as he spoke. Could it really be? Could he really share the same feelings as she did? (Y/n) reached a shaky (s/c) hand to lay on top of Hatter’s pale one, intertwining their fingers.

“Hatter, I've got something to tell you. During my time here in Wonderland, I’ve enjoyed every second I’ve had with everyone. But more importantly, I’ve enjoyed my time so much with you and I believe it’s only fair to share with you that my feelings I have for you go beyond those of normal friendship. I guess you can say I’ve grown...quite mad for you.” his head whipped to face her as he stared into her eyes, tears welling within his own. He flashed her another smile except this one was genuine, filled with the love and warmth he had shown her the entirety of her time in Wonderland.

“(Y/n)! Alice sent me to fetch you. I’m afraid it’s time for the two of you to head back.”

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

After a lot of shedded tears, heartfelt speeches, and goodbyes that were nothing short of wholesome, it was time for the two to head home. Alice patted (Y/n)’s shoulder before holding her arm out for her to grab. As they neared the portal, (Y/n) turned around once more to stare at her friends but when she got to Tarrant, her heart began to break. The gaze they held with one another was long until she simply couldn’t take it. Without thinking she ran up to him once more, grabbing his shoulders tightly.

“Hatter, Tarrant, I need to know how you feel. I couldn’t live with myself if I left and never knew.” he shook his head, looking away from her as he tried to stop the waterworks that were withheld behind the dam. Hot tears streamed down the delicate skin of the girl’s face. “Hatter...please.” her voice was broken as she begged.

“I believe I wasn’t honest myself either. I am completely enamored by you, my dear. I wish I had said something sooner but even though I couldn’t, I’ll always hold a special place for you in here.” he said, placing a hand over his heart. Standing on the tips of her toes, she leaned forward placing a quick peck to his cheek.

“What if it isn’t too late? What if I stayed?” she started, watching as he shook his head, “Hatter listen! You may think I’d regret if I stay but I think I would regret even more not following my heart the first time it’s ever tried to tell me something. Nothing would make me happier than staying here with you...that is if you’d allow it.” a silence fell over as everyone awaited his answer. Without another thought Hatter leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and sweet. Filled with a silent promise, a silent vow to care for her as deeply as his heart will allow. 

“I do not know what I did to get so lucky, but I would do it again if needed.” she felt herself grow flustered at his words. A quick peck was placed on his lips before walking over to Alice once again. The blonde had tears of her own in her eyes. She was glad her friend had found something to fight for, something to call her own. But also for the first time in many years, they would not see each other everyday as they once did. They both stared at each other before throwing themselves into each other's arms, laughing in unison as bittersweet tears fell.

“Good luck. Make sure you put your foot down. You’re Alice! You listen to no one and march to no one’s drum but your own.” Alice gave her a curt nod.

“Take care. We’ll meet again, do not doubt it.” 

Although Alice’s story had seemingly come to an end, it seemed as though (Y/n)’s story was just beginning. For once she wasn’t the side character in someone’s tale, but the main character in her own.

TAGSLIST: @de4ds0up @pink-hufflepuff​ @redpanda-poetry​

[aomine-ryo]

Hi can you do a jealousy headcanon for GOM? 💜

Of course! Hope you like it :)

Headcanons: GOM getting jealous

Kuroko

He doesn’t get jealous very often because he just has so much trust in you

If he ever does, he’s really subtle about it that you won’t even notice unless he tells you

He knew that he could talk to you about anything so he was never particularly uncomfortable with you being around other guys

There was a boy in your class who you had been getting quite close to

He quickly became a good friend of yours, and you’d often hang out with him when Kuroko was busy

He was objectively rather attractive, but you didn’t really see him that way because you only really had eyes for Kuroko

Kuroko wasn’t in your class so he’d sometimes see you walking around the school hallways, however more often than not, you would be with that boy

He seemed like a nice and earnest guy, which is probably why Kuroko began to feel a little threatened by him

Not knowing any better, you invited your friend to come watch one of Kuroko’s practice games with you since you could use the company

Kuroko wasn’t very pleased to see him to say the least

He’d usually glance over at you during games because seeing you watching him motivated him to do better

But now when he looked at you, he’d see you talking to that boy and he’d just feel annoyed

And it definitely showed in the way he played as well because his moves became uninspired and predictable

You went to grab some food with Kuroko’s team and your friend afterwords and Kuroko would not keep his hands off of you

He’d constantly be holding your hand

And he’d leave absolutely no space between you two

Of course, you noticed all of this, but you didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone

“Hey, so you’ve been spending a lot of time with that guy from your class, huh?” Kuroko said when the two of you were walking back home together

“Yeah, I suppose,” you shrugged, beginning to connect the dots

“Hm,” he hummed, his grip on your hand getting a bit tighter

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled

“You’re jealous aren’t you?” you grinned

His face just became red as he averted his gaze

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied almost instantly

“So that’s why you were being so touchy back there,” you giggled

“Well I was just making sure he knew that you were mine,” he said, finally deciding to give in

“For what it’s worth, you really don’t need to worry about him— I’m sure he knows.”

“I’m not a violent person but if he tries anything, let him know he can catch these hands,” he said, clenching his other fist and holding it up

“Tetsu, he’s twice your size, but sure.”

Kise

Okay so we know that Kise is really cold with people he generally doesn’t respect

Well, this coldness becomes so amplified when he sees someone he doesn’t know with you

The two of you were on a date at a cafe once and he went to the cashier to place your order while you remained seated at your table

That was when a classmate of yours spotted you and approached you

“Y/N? Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he said, grinning widely before engaging in conversation with you

Meanwhile, Kise was standing in the queue, glaring at you two

In Kise’s eyes, he was very obviously flirting with you— and he was, you just didn’t realise it

Every moment that he looked at you two angered him more and more

The damn boy even made himself comfortable by taking Kise’s seat

Was what he said so funny that you needed to be giggling like that?

Kise hastily placed his order and then stormed over to your table, not bothering to wait for your food

The boy was just about to reach out to touch you when Kise slammed his hand down on the table, startling both of you

He didn’t intend to do it with so much force but it just happened and he didn’t care

“Hey Y/N-cchi, who’s this?” Kise snarled, voice calm but menacing at the same time

“Oh hey Ryouta, this is Satou, a classmate of mine,” you introduced innocently

“Hi there,” Kise said, flashing him a fake smile and not even bothering to register his name in his head, “Y/N-cchi and I are kind of on a date right now, and you’re in my seat.”

Kise took your hand that was resting on the table and squeezed it tight, making the jealousy much more obvious to you

Your classmate visibly showed his annoyance through an eye roll as he stood up from Kise’s seat

“Alright,” he sighed. “See you around, Y/N.”

His and Kise’s eyes were shooting daggers at each other at this point

“Sure you will,” Kise mumbled sarcastically as he watched him walk off

“Babe they’ve been waving at you from the counter for the past two minutes now, trying to get your attention,” you pointed out, looking at the worker who was just about to give up and bring the order to you herself

“Ah crap,” Kise muttered before rushing over to meet the worker halfway and apologise

“I think someone got a bit carried away with their jealousy, don’t you think?” you said once he got back

“Tch, the guy goes to our school. He should know that you’re mine by now. Yet he still thought he had a shot, what an idiot,” Kise scoffed, just the thought of the boy talking to you getting him riled up again

“You’re intimidating when you’re jealous, it’s weird.”

“Weird? I can be intimidating! Why is that weird?” Kise pouted, switching back to his usual eccentric self

“Because you still sleep with stuffed animals, Ryouta,” you giggled

“And so do you, what’s your point?”

Midorima

So he’s not one to really initiate things like PDA

He’s the kind of guy that just holds your hand in public and that’s about it

However when he gets jealous, he becomes a whole other type of possessive

You’d be hanging out with him and a few of your friends from school

And one of the guys would constantly flirt with you

You didn’t really think too much of it because you thought he was just being friendly

But between the flirtatious teasing and unnecessary touching, Midorima was slowly losing his patience

He’d be really subtle at first

He’d hold your hand a bit tighter and hold you by your waist every now and then, all while eyeing the guy down in hopes that he’d get the message

Obviously, it wasn’t enough because he’d barely even notice Midorima and would continue chatting away with you as if your boyfriend wasn’t right there

“Hey Y/N, do you wanna go to that manga store over there together?” your friend said, seemingly inviting only you even though there were five other people in your group

“Actually, Y/N and I were just planning on leaving, sorry,” Midorima intervened, the ‘sorry’ oozing with so much sarcasm that it was clear that he really didn’t like the guy

“Oh already? You don’t have to leave just because Midorima is, you know,” your friend said

Hahaha it took everything in Midorima to not send him flying like his three pointers

“Excuse me? I think you’re crossing the line there a bit, don’t you think—“

“It’s getting pretty late, we should get going,” you said quickly before things could escalate

After shooting one last glare at your friend, Midorima walked away with you

“The nerve of that guy— unbelievable,” Midorima sighed

“I thought you were going to punch him or something, that’s why I stopped you so quickly,” you giggled

“Honestly, I might have,” Midorima chuckled. “How are you even friends with someone like him?”

“I guess he’s just friendly,” you shrugged. “Looks like someone was a bit jealous though.”

“Please, why would I be jealous of an idiot like him,” Midorima scoffed

He’d never admit to an emotion like jealousy— ever

Aomine

Oh god this boy does not handle jealousy well

He would 100% break someone’s nose if he feels like they’re getting too close

The two of you were at a party once and Aomine decided to take a break from dancing for a moment to grab a drink

So he was leaning against the wall sipping on his drink while watching you on the dance floor

Of course, he wasn’t very pleased to find you dancing with some other guy

Aomine recognised him as someone who went to your school, so he very well could just be a friend of yours

However that didn’t stop him from feeling a growing amount of jealousy as each moment passed

Did you really need to be dancing that close to him?

Aomine should be the only one you dance like that with

He was already a bit tipsy so he may not have been thinking straight

But he completely lost it when he saw your bodies swaying so carelessly together

Next thing he knew, he was storming over to the dance floor

You didn’t even notice him until you were suddenly ripped away from the boy you were previously dancing with

And once again you were dancing with Aomine

He was holding your waist tight and his face was as close as ever

“What do you think you’re doing dancing like that with someone else?” Aomine growled

“Why? Is someone jealous?” you joked as you continued to move along with him to the music

“Don’t tease around like that. You’re all mine, don’t you realise?” he grinned, shoving his lips onto yours before you could say another word

The kiss was desperate and heavy, and as a result, sloppy— not that you minded too much

After seeing that act, the guy from earlier backed off, though you didn’t even notice or care for that matter

I mean, why would you care about any other guy when Aomine Daiki was in front of you?

Murasakibara

He gets jealous very easily

He’s like a child when it comes to most things— he doesn’t share

You’ve had your fair share of encounters with other guys that ended with Murasakibara scaring them off

The two of you were seated on the couch together on your phones

There was absolutely no reason for Murasakibara to have come over to your house just to be on his phone, but he just enjoyed your presence

You were scrolling through TikTok because you’d run out of things to do

You landed on a video of these two shirtless boys dancing to a song that you liked so you just watched for the hell of it

You started scrolling through the comments while the video kept replaying, garnering Murasakibara’s attention

The second he saw what you were watching his possessiveness just kicked in

“You really like watching those boys, huh?” he said, glaring at the boys as if they could see through the screen

“Not really, I just like the song,” you shrugged before turning to him with a smirk, “why? Are you jealous?”

“Well if it means I can get more of your attention then sure, I guess I’m jealous,” he answered simply. “Do I have to take my shirt off and do a dance too?”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but now that you mention it, I’d love to see it,” you giggled

Next thing you knew, he wrapped his arms around you, sending you toppling back onto the couch

“Too bad I can’t dance, I guess you’ll have to make do with some kisses for now,” he said softly, making your heart flutter

“Ah dammit, I wanted to see you dance,” you sighed, pretending to be disappointed

“Shut up,” he groaned, before pressing his lips against yours

This was what he was usually like when he got jealous though

He wouldn’t necessarily get angry or anything like that unless a guy was relentlessly hitting on you

But he’d just become really lovey and clingy just as a way of reminding you that it was him who’d love you the most

Akashi

We all know he’s a classy gentleman

So you can’t expect any dramatic outbursts from him when he gets jealous

He’s always able to keep a calm and composed exterior (not that that’s ever stopped anyone from feeling threatened by him)

Anyone who knew Akashi knew never to mess with him

And they especially knew how much he valued you so one step too far would probably lead to their demise

However, there was one boy at a dinner party you both attended who somehow didn’t get the memo

You ended up being seated in the middle of him and Akashi, which gave him the opportunity to chat with you as much as he liked

Of course, Akashi wasn’t the most pleased to hear what he had to say to you

It was very obviously some awful flirting

You just thought he was being friendly so you entertained his conversation

“Y/N, maybe you should stop chatting and eat— your food is getting cold,” Akashi said in attempt to get him to stop— it was getting frustrating at this point

For the rest of the night, Akashi remained clung onto you with his arm around your waist, monitoring every movement of that boy

It was particularly strange because Akashi was the type to mingle at events like these so you knew something was wrong

Akashi’s cold gaze seemed to be enough to make the guy keep his distance though

Akashi is just too powerful lmao

Once the two of you got back home, Akashi pounced to kiss you almost immediately

“Woah what was that for?” you asked when you pulled away from the kiss that seemed so urgent

“You looked gorgeous tonight, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Akashi said sweetly

“Aww, thank you, Sei.”

“A lot of people seemed to think so too by the looks of it. Especially that guy that sat next to you at the table,” Akashi pointed out

“Oh. Did you get jealous or something?” you questioned

“Well, yes. I want to be the only one looking at you like that. But I guess it can’t be helped sometimes,” he said, body still as close to yours as ever

“You’re the only one I want so you don’t have to worry for even a moment,” you said reassuringly

“Then that’s all that matters,” Akashi said with a smile before pulling you in for a soft kiss filled with nothing but adoration

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and  hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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[fredshufflepuff]

Can you do one about young Sirius Black or young Remus Lupin please? Thank you!😊

why so serious, sirius? || s.b ✧˖*°࿐

summary: sirius is a jerk towards you, showing you how he really feels without shame. what happens when he goes too far?

a/n: i got wayyyy too carried away with this omg.

series partially inspired by @hxlyhead-harpies ‘s congratulations weasley fic <3

warnings: fem!reader, young!sirius, platonic remus!relationship, language, angst, enemies to lovers, part one to a two(three?) part series.

word count: 1,316

“good morning, my loves!” you sang, approaching the gryffindor table with a smile on your cheery face. lily and james returning the gesture as you took a seat next to them.

remus wasn’t up yet, probably still shit faced in his room while everyone else was at breakfast.

sirius on the other hand...

“why’re you always so damn loud?” the dark haired boy growled, his eyes darting to yours as he took a bite of his toast.

“why’re you always so aggressive?” you spat back, your mood immediately souring at his bitter attitude towards you and you only.

“snappy now, are we?”

you ignored his comment and grabbed a plate, not wanting him to ruin your morning. how could sirius have so much anger in him? especially it being so early.

“sirius, mate—leave the poor girl alone” a familiar voice spoke, the groups heads turning to see remus standing behind the boy with a tired grin.

a smile came to your face as you ushered for him to sit next to you, remus accepting as he plopped down next to you—immediately asking you how you slept.

sirius couldn’t help but sink back into his seat, his jaw clenched and eyes darted towards the pair as they talked about upcoming classes.

“mate, you’re staring” james whispered, nudging his stubborn friend in the side as he snapped out of his thoughts.

“i wasn’t staring” he snapped, turning to a skeptical james and a grinning lily. of course the red head girl knew what was really going on, when it came to the bickering pair lily was always there to read what was going on. “what, lily?!”

“you know what” she drawled out, her head titling to y/n as she took a sip from her pumpkin juice, “i’m not blind, sirius.”

“neither am i, i’d never stare at something as repulsive as y/l/n” he spat, his voice loud enough for you to hear. and of course you did, that’s why your heart clenched, but you didn’t give him the reaction he was pushing for.

instead, you continued your conversation with remus like nothing had happened—despite your stomach twisting as the cruel words replayed in the back of your head.

breakfast was over and you said your goodbyes to the group, everyone except sirius. there was a game later versus slytherin and everyone decided to meet up after classes.

“by the court yard, right?” you checked, lily nodding and reminding you that they’d all leave from there.

“great! see you then” you chirped, spinning on your heel and making your way down the corridor.

you heard footsteps approach you from behind, remus coming into view as he threw his arm around you. “didn’t think i wouldn’t walk you to class, did you?”

“i didn’t forget...” you trailed off, remus mumbling a ‘rubbish’ as you giggled at his response.

you’re relationship with remus was nothing but platonic, you’ve known the boy since first year—it would be impossible for you to feel anything other than friendship for him.

and he felt the same way, he saw you as a sister to him; he was your big brother in a way. he protected you from harms way and would hex anyone that talked bad about you—especially sirius. but you and him both knew the boy wouldn’t stop anytime soon with his constant teasing, so you told remus to lay off. you loved him of course for being so caring and thoughtful, but you didn’t want anything to escalate.

“potions with slughorn?” remus asked, completely forgetting what your first class was. you gave a tired sigh as you nodded in response, practically dreading to enter the room.

“have fun with that” he teased, pinching your side before opening the door for you, “i’ll see you at the courtyard.”

“thanks, rem” you smiled, ruffling the boys hair before entering the student filled room. it was loud and noisy, signaling to you that slughorn wasn’t there yet. no one would dare laugh nor talk if that dreadful man was around, he always sucked the life out of everything.

“was wondering when you’d get here” sirius said, watching you with narrow eyes as you took a spot next to him.

it’s not like you wanted to, slughorn assigned sirius to be your partner for the entire year, which also included sitting next to the irritating bastard.

“you were waiting for me?” you teased, your eyebrow cocking as he scoffed in annoyance—mumbling a quiet ‘yeah right.’

“zip it! class has begun!” slughorn announced, cutting your conversation with the boy short as he entered the room. his robe swayed back and forth dramatically as he cleanly yanked up the sleeves, his sharp eyes scanning the pairs of students.

“today we will be brewing amortentia” he drawled, walking around to his desk before crossing his arms, “does anyone know what the amortentia does?”

your hand shot up grabbing his attention, his head nodding for you to go on.

“it’s a powerful love potion sir, amortentia smells different to everyone, according to what attracts them,” you explained, slughorn’s lips turning into a thin line of approval.

“very good, y/l/n. 10 points to y/h.”

you heard sirius scoff from next to you, mumbling a ‘show off’ under his breath—but loud enough for you to hear.

“fuck off” you snapped, voice low so snape couldn’t hear as he rambled on about the potion and how to not mess it up.

you had two hours to perfect the assignment, which could be hard considering how you had sirius as your partner.

“get the cauldron and we can begin” you waved him off, his eyes rolling as he mumbled something ONCE AGAIN—under his breath.

this was going to be a long two hours.

“powdered moonstone, sirius! not moonstone powder!”

“what’s the difference?!”

“crush the pearls into dust.”

“rose thorn, sirius, not just the rose!”

“you bitch too much.”

“just shut up and grab the ashwinder egg.”

“done!” you announced, a tired smile coming to your face as you watched the potion turn into a vibrant pink color.

“is that so, y/l/n? black?” slughorn asked the two of you, his figure looming over your work area as he narrowed his eyes towards the cauldron.

“yes, sir.”

he hummed quietly to himself before ushering you to smell it, tell him what scent it gave off and write it down.

“go first, just in case it blows up” sirius said, your eyes narrowing as you shoved him to the side. you leaned over the cauldron and stared into the pink liquid, a smell of smoke and sugar filling your scent.

“odd” you mumbled, stepping back and grabbing a quill to scribble it down. “well, what did you smell?”

“none of your business, black” you snapped, his eyes darting daggers into you as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“not like i cared anyway, y/l/n” he mimicked, leaning over the cauldron himself and waiting for a smell to emit.

“pressed flowers and rain.”

“pressed flowers? that’s awfully specific” you said, rolling your eyes at his claim. who smells pressed flowers? that’s like you saying ‘dark black smoke,’ way too descriptive.

ridiculous, you thought.

“you can never not be a bitch can you?” he snapped, your stomach twisting as you glared at him.

“cut the chatter! clean up your stations” slughorn barked, the classroom going quiet as you quietly moved to get the cauldron.

man, sirius was a dick.

“amortentia?! what did you smell?” lily asked, eagerly wanting to know who you desired.

you had to desire someone, you couldn’t just be alone forever. but you made it painfully clear that you fancied no one here at hogwarts. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“smoke and sugar” you hummed, your eyes wandering around as you waited for the rest of your group to show up, “odd isn’t it? i mean, who smells like smoke and sug-”

“sirius!”

[lemons3ason]

Soul Eater Omegaverse

How the alpha boys would react to you disappearing/ignoring them after a fight!

-Soul Eater Evans-

He didn’t mean to let it slip out, he didn’t mean to say that your compulsive reactions made you weak and would get you killed just like your mother but he did and now he hadn’t seen you after making you whimper for the first time. He got a well deserved slap in the face for saying what he said and just stood there like an idiot as you ran away. He hadn’t seen you since then and his inner Alpha roared at him for making his sweet beautiful omega cry, today marked the eleventh day since he had seen you and he was suffering withdraw. Maka had washed his clothes removing your sweet syrupy scent from them and it was driving him crazy.

“Soul you’re growling again.”, Maka warned continuing to read her book.

The bone haired scythe groaned in annoyance slamming his head against the wood of the desk as a defeated sigh escaped his throat. You hadn’t answered any of his calls or messages, you hadn’t been to class, hell you weren’t even home when he tried to go see you. As lunch time came around the halls were suddenly flooded by gossiping students, Soul immediately caught a whiff of your sweet scent. It was weak but without a doubt it was his (Y/n), his pupils dilated in joy to the thought of seeing you but even as he pushed through the crowd of students he soon realized just how grave his mistake was. You were covered in cuts and dried blood but the look on your face made it obvious that you were suffering an omegan depression.

“W-what happened? What happened to (Y/n)?!”, He growled lunging at your weapon partner who protected you until another member of your pack slammed their elbow into the middle of his back momentarily immobilizing him.

“An Alpha that causes an omega to go into depression isn’t a proper Alpha at all. If you want to talk to her you’ll wait your turn like the rest of us until Stein checks her injuries.”, Your Alpha friend, Serenity, growled ushering (Y/n) and her partner to the nurses office.

Soul remained silent yet persistent the rest of the day, he wouldn’t leave the door of the nurses office even as your pack mates threatened him and waited patiently for them to allow him in. Your partner was the only one to fill him in on what had happened to you, after the fight you had gone into a depression and you wanted to prove that your impulsiveness wouldn’t get you killed but with your mind not at 100% during the fight you were almost easily defeated if it hadn’t been for soul resonance.

“So she was pretty close to getting to see her mom again. She would’ve liked that but we’re to stubborn to let her go just yet.”, He sighed leaning against the wall next to Soul.

“She wanted to prove herself to me...Death why am I such an idiot. She’s already better then me why did I have to go saying something so stupid when I didn’t really mean it!”, Soul growled to himself slamming his fist into the wall out of frustration.

“Rio, it’s time for us to go. Stein’s kicking us out.”, Serenity sighed emerging with the other six members of your pack, “I hope she breaks things off with you you were never a proper alpha for her to begin with.”

As soon as your pack mates were gone Soul rushed into the office to see your body balled up on one of the infirmary beds. Soul sighed as Stein scooted past him on his chair and took a seat next to your exposed hand. He softly traced his fingertips to your knuckles to see if you’d react but you didn’t, he took your hand in his and softly kissed your knuckles as he began to speak to you.

“(Y-y/n)...Hey shortcake...what happened? Why’d you go and disappear on me? I’ve missed you, you know that? Come on (Y/n), talk to me please.”, Soul whimpered rubbing your wrist against his cheek in an attempt to scent you.

You gently pulled your hand away and hid it under the sheets with the rest of your body before your shaky soft voice emerged from the sheets, “I’m weak just like you said.”, that’s what drew the line for him. Soul’s inner alpha was furious with him, his urge to comfort you and apologize took over. He was aggressive yet careful as he pulled the sheets off of you and revealing your pale form and although you wanted to hide Soul wouldn’t let you. He spooned you immediately kissing away at your forehead as he smothered you in his sweet strawberry like scent. Even if you wanted to escape you were basically engulfed by your alpha. You tried to pull out of his grip but you were to weak and he wouldn’t let you. He lifted up your face so you could see him and kissed your lips sweetly as his hands wandered over your frame. He would appease your omega no matter how he had to do it wether through physical touch, word, or actions he would apologize to you and gain back your trust that he lost for saying something so careless and stupid.

“Soul.”, you whimpered shuddering as his hands rubbed your thighs.

“(Y/n),my mega, my mate, my absolute love of my life I’m sorry, I know what I said can’t be taken back but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I made you this upset. I’m not letting you go or leaving until you accept my apology or at least tell me what I can do to redeem myself. I’m sorry I’m such a terrible alpha, I miss you so much it hurts to be away from you any longer.”, Soul cried, he never cried in front of you, wet hot tears spilled from his eyes as he rubbed his forehead atop yours. You didn’t respond you just held him, you held his face in your hands and softly kissed his desperate lips in an attempt to please his alpha but it wasn’t enough. You both just needed each other and for now that was enough until you got better. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black ⭐️ Star

It wasn’t rare for you both to argue, you were both just naturally competitive and that’s what he loved about you. He was competitive because he wanted to prove that even he could defeat a god. (Y/n) was competitive because she hated Omegan stereotypes and wanted to prove that she was a capable fighter to everyone, so why did this argument over another alpha complimenting your strength end so horribly. Black Star had hit a breaking point due to several recent defeats and seeing another Alpha make you smile destroyed what little restraint and patience he had left. He tried attacking the other Alpha but you stopped him...you stopped him and Omega, that was all it took to send him into a fury. Things were said that shouldn’t have been said but worst of all he had used your second gender status against you. After screaming at you he seemed to settle down but the guilt from his words flooded him immediately and you left before he could find the right words to apologize.

“(Y/n) your scent is weak on my scarf can you please scent it, I’ll scent your sweat-“

“Leave me alone. An omega beneath you shouldn’t even be in your presence remember?”, you responded coldly making Black Star stop in his tracks.

After the fight you chose to ignore him, if he didn’t need you then why would you need him? Your pack mates provided you enough attention to stay positive and happy as an omega so you didn’t need him but Death did he need you. He knew he was annoying you he could tell by the sour tone your scent took when you noticed him but he wanted to apologize for being a dumbass. If this kept up then you’d move on and another alpha would scoop you up and steal you away or worse mark you and leave him alone forever.

“(Y/n)...(y/n) I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean to-I...It’s just that I-“, he tried to find the right words but your weapon partner had pulled you away from him and rushed to the women’s bathroom to hide.

This silent treatment was driving Black Star insane, he hadn’t seen you in two weeks already and it was driving him mad. He would cry himself to sleep every night as your scent slowly faded from his belongings. Black Star couldn’t handle this anymore you were so much more stronger if this wasn’t torture for you like it was for him. During dinner his emotions seemed to finally escape him.

“Black Star we’re going on a mission with Kid and Maka try to get some sleep so-“

“Tsubaki I don’t want to fight anymore.”, Black Star admitted as tears spilled from his eyes.

Tsubaki’s heart stopped to the very sight of her miester breaking down, separations between alpha and omega pairs always affected the individual parties differently but she didn’t know it would have this much of an effect on her poor miester. She was fed up seeing you both in so much pain, you were stupid for being so stubborn and hiding away from him, and he was stupid for starting the fight and crying over it instead of pushing to apologize properly! The raven haired teen sighed and stood to her feet and quietly left without another word. Black Star just cried over his food before returning to his ridiculously cluttered room. Losing you had made him lose all drive to do anything, what was he to do now that you seemed to be leaving him. He sat in his bed wrapped up in his blankets while staring up at the ceiling replaying the argument in his head again and again...why did he have to be such an idiot?

He heard a soft knock at his door and thought it was Tsubaki so he ignored it, but then he heard another knock and this time a voice, “H-hey Star...you there?”, your voice sounded from the other side of his door but he just though it was his imagination.

“Alpha I’m here.”, you called again the scent of cinnamon rolls poured into his room from his door and he quickly realized that you were there.

You could hear thumping and stomping from behind the door and stepped back as the door swung open revealing your exhausted mate. Tsubaki had dragged you to the house after finding you crying over Black Star in your room and yelled at you to stop being thick headed and stubborn since you were both suffering. You opened your mouth to say something but the moment his hands cupped your cheeks, his lips met yours, and his addicting scent of pine tree and fresh rain flooded your scenes you knew he truly meant that he was sorry. He slowly pushed you back into the wall pressing his body close to yours as he kissed you silly. Finally being able to enjoy your scent and touch you brought a new batch of tears to his eyes and he kissed you like it would be his last.

“B-black mmm Black Star...mmmn~ Black Star listen to me.”, you panted between kisses trying to get his attention.

He was afraid you would tell him something he didn’t want to hear so he didn’t want you to talk. ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please don’t leave me’ and ‘I love you’ spilled from his lips between each kiss as he desperately tried to apologize to you.

He opened his mouth to say something new but it was the same thought on both of your minds, “I’ve missed you.”, you both sighed.

Black Star’s heart was beating like a drum against your chest as he pressed himself closer to you. You had both finally made up and he refused to make the same mistake again because being separated from you was a worse torture then death itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Death the Kid

Just for a moment you were reminded that you weren’t good enough for Kid...your insecurities had resurfaced the moment you saw him smiling and dancing with that other omegan girl during the ball. Even when you tried to talk to him about it the other party guests wouldn’t give you two time alone but the final straw was when Kid himself said, “(Y/n) you’re such a needy omega can’t you see I’m busy.”, he’s said it to you many times before as a joke but today you knew he truly meant it by how cruel and rude he was.

“Oh and who might you be little dear? Do you know young master Death?”, one of the guests asked you.

You simply smiled and shook you head much to Kid’s surprise, “My apologize I’m simply another desperate omega making a fool of herself.”, you hummed dipping into a small curtsy before disappearing from sight.

You had made your nest at the Gallows Manor so Kid expected to see you there after the Ball since you seemed upset but you were no where in sight. He called for you through every room in the huge mansion but not once did he get a response or a clue to where you could’ve been. It worried him sure but it was just a party that couldn’t have upset you that bad right? He went to sleep without you that night your side littered in fluffy toys and pillows in hopes that he’d find you buried in a fort of them the next morning but still there was nothing.

“Liz, Patty, has (Y/n) contacted either of you? She didn’t come home last night.”, Kid explained a worried expression etching itself over his face as he started to panic.

“Nope she didn’t call me.”, Patty answered.

“I don’t have anything.”, Liz replied.

“Well without a doubt she’ll be at school. Sebastian is in rut right now so I know her team hasn’t been dispatched on any missions.”, he huffed summoning Beelzebub to get to school earlier in hopes of finding you.

He asked all of his friends and yours to try and find you but still there was no sight of you. Until he discovered that Crona and Team Cerberus had been dispatched on a mission together. He couldn’t believe it, you never once left without asking him to scent your belongings or without a warning so why did you do it now?

“Kid?”, a voice called drawing his attention.

The young reaper’s heart dropped seeing your weapon partner right before him, why was Sebastian here when you were out on a mission? You had no weapon for this A-rank mission this had to be a joke!

“W-why aren’t you with (Y/n)?”, he stuttered reaching for your partner’s collar as his anger boiled, “Why are you here while she’s out there?”

“Because I was in Rut I couldn’t go with her. At least I couldn’t until she snapped me out of it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean ‘she’ knocked you out of rut?!”, Kid growled.

Kid’s rage was settled the moment he caught a whiff of your scent, Kid was hypersensitive to any change in scents and the burning scent of rubber that was lightly hunted with your usual calm honey apple scent was utterly heartbreaking.

“W-what is this?”, he stuttered shaking as he removed the jacket from his face.

“She came to me crying last night...saying something along the lines of ‘He looked happier with her’ and ‘I was right I’m not good enough for him’ and my favorite bit ‘Who wants to be with an needy omega that has no self confidence?’ Kid I don’t know what you did but for (Y/n)’s sadness to be able to knock me out of rut and trigger my instincts to protect her then whatever you did to her last night might’ve been enough to trigger her into depression. You’re an asshole to not have noticed that (Y/n) never thought of herself as good enough to be your partner.”, Sebastian growled putting his jacket back on.

Kid’s body was shaking, not from anger but from guilt and worry. He didn’t bother staying much longer and ran to the entrance of the school. Once again he summoned Beelzebub and raced to Spain to stop you from getting hurt, he didn’t know! He didn’t once think you would think so poorly of yourself he loved you dearly so he never believed that his love was never enough for you to see what he see in you. You wouldn’t answer his calls so he didn’t bother calling but he knew Crona would! As soon as they did he begged them to put you on the phone or at least get close to you so he could explain himself. He cried his heart out into his phone but still you wouldn’t respond. Crona had to turn down the volume on their end just to keep from drawing attention from the other train passengers but you barely seemed to respond to anything Kid said.

“(Y/n) you’re perfect! You’re perfect because you’re imperfect, you to good to be mine but I can’t dare think of a day going by without you by my side. You’re always there for me when I’m upset, you’ve always been by my side to make me smile or kiss me good morning! (Y/n) I’m sorry I know I was acting out of line yesterday night but if I had known that you weren’t being needy and that you just felt self conscious then I would’ve listened! I would’ve scooped you up and taken you home and laid with you in bed reminding you why you’re so beautiful and perfect for me! I would’ve talked about the future that I want with you as my mate and my wife, you didn’t have to run away from me!”, Kid cried feeling overwhelmed by just how much space separated you from him.

He had to stop, he had to catch his breath, he felt his lungs burning from screaming and from hyperventilating but he had to keep going.

“(Y/n) please just don’t do this. This isn’t going to be an easy mission and you don’t have a weapon please don’t do this.”, he whimpered into the phone hopping that his begging would be enough to stop you.

“I don’t want to see you.”, he couldn’t even register your voice or the fact that you hung up after that. His body was frozen like stone from just the sickened tone of your voice.

He screwed up...he royally screwed up. As if he couldn’t push his powers more then he already had he pushed past his limit, he had to get to Spain and fast! He still had 3800 miles to reach you and he wasn’t going to let you go through with this even if you were mad at him. Even as tears poured from his lifeless golden hue he wouldn’t let his heart forget this pain even after he got you to forgive him. He reached Spain by nightfall and searched for your soul wavelength until he found it in the city of Pamplona, but the mission had already begun he saw the bull like kishin egg charging at your teammates and searched only for you. Until the creature was shot dead by a Barrett M-82 rifle, much to his surprise you were the miester wielding the weapon. You released your temporary weapon partner so they could collect the soul and collapsed to the floor of the rooftop as your fever finally set in.

“(Y/n)!”, Kid screamed drawing everyone’s attention as he raced to your side, he pulled your body close to his and frowned feeling your intense fever from your skin.

“An omegan depression.”, he frowned growling to himself as he held you closer. Your pack mates arrived to get you but the murderous glow in Kid’s eyes kept everyone at bay.

No one would touch you until he pulled you out of depression and no one would see you until he apologized and was forgiven by you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

An Officer and a Gentleman

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, anal, cheating (sort of), name-calling.

This is dark!(silverfox)Lee Bodecker x (married)reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your after hours work gets in the way of your day job.

Note: I had the first half sitting around and finished it so here ya go. It takes place in the 70s so Lee is older and it was inspired by an article I read about the creation phone sex lines by a housewife in the 70s (which now of course I can’t flippin find). But anyway, here you go.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The sheriff sat down in his usual spot as you wiped your hands on the rag tucked into your apron. He set his hat on the table and tidied his greying hair. Even at his age, his locks were thick and looked soft. Strands of brown lined the shining silver and shone under the diner lights.

He came in at the same time every day, only an hour into your shift. You approached and flipped the cup on its saucer before you filled it. He took only sugar, no cream 

or milk. You smiled as you watched him read over the menu, he never ordered anything but the waffles.

“Good morning, sheriff,” you said as you held the carafe aloft. “Lookin’ to try something new?”

“‘Dols Leck’?” Lee Bodecker mispronounced the French words, “What’s that?”

“Dolce Leche,” you corrected, “It’s caramel.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his ruddy cheek and reached for his mug. He drank and held out the menu. “Waffles with strawberry.”

“Extra cream,” you finished for him. He nodded and had another gulp as you walked away.

You put in his ticket after you replaced the coffee pot on the burner. You checked on the few other customers along the counter and wiped down the empty tables. The bell rang and you went to grab the sheriff’s breakfast from the window. You set the plate down before him as he folded the newspaper and replaced it in the little holder at the end of the table.

“How’s Eugene?” He asked as he unwrapped his cutlery. “And the boy?”

“Gene’s still on nights.” You lamented and subconsciously touched your stomach. “Little Ezra’s almost a year now.”

Your boy was buxom and buoyant. You smiled as you thought of his round cheeks and warm brown eyes. You only wished his father was around more to take him off your hip as you cooked and cleaned in your spare hours after work. Eugene was asleep as much as he was at the factory. You saw each other in passing as you scraped for ends meet.

Ezra was with Eugene’s mother during the day. You’d pick him up and take him home to wait for your husband to wake. If you were lucky, you got a kiss before he grabbed his lunch pail and headed out for his twelve hours. You hadn’t gotten more than that since before Ezra came. Neither of you had the time or energy, though the want was there.

“And you sheriff? How are you doing these days?” You asked before you could get lost in your self-pity.

“Ah, you know. The same old. Patrol’s ain’t too exciting.” He cut into the stack and licked his lips. He was a man with a sweet tooth, a substitute for his former alcoholic habit.

“Well, you enjoy, sheriff, you know how to get my attention.” You left him and did a round of refills for those eating and greeted the new arrivals.

Lee was always alone when he came in. He never brought any of his cadets or officers, he just sat, read the newspaper, and ate his waffles. He wasn’t married and had no children. Nearly fifty years on his back but he seemed content on his own. You almost envied him as you struggled with your small family.

🚔

You laid Ezra down carefully in his crib. He was getting big. You tickled his forehead and watched him for a moment before you left the room. It was late. Eugene was gone and the phone would ring soon. You had to prepare yourself for your night time duties.

It started small. An idea found in the pages of one of those feminist magazines, the very ones your husband called good kindling. A woman lost her job, still hard-fought for the domestic sex, and found herself in a similar way as yourself. Money was always needed and harder to come about. So she started her own service for the lonely men. A phone line with illicit intentions.

You read about it in the late stages of your pregnancy and laughed at the idea. It was so stupid. So scandalous. But once you were back to work and Eugene was on the late shift, you grew lonely and your checkbook was harder to open.

You hand wrote the little cards after a visit to the phone company. Eugene didn’t know about the second line. The number redirected to your main line and was active for only three hours a night, after your husband was gone. It was registered as a commercial line so each incoming call was billed to the dialer and a percentage was refunded on your own invoice.

You left the number around town, certain not to be seen as you dropped the cards in the car shop and the bar. At least, you hoped you hadn’t been seen.

The first night had you addled and sleepless until your shift began at the diner. It was hard to keep up the sultry voice and the lies. Difficult to act like the whole thing didn’t make you cringe. The men called and said their dirty words as you encouraged them with moans and little prods. “Oh yes, baby.” or “Tell me more.” It felt like you were cheating on your husband but it kept his plate full and the house warm.

The phone didn’t ring right away that night. Later in the week, you got more calls but one or two was better than none. The real profit was keeping them on the line as long as you could, but there were times you had to end abruptly to see to your wailing child.

You were half-asleep when the first call came in. You fumbled with the receiver and batted away your fatigue with your lashes. You held in a yawn and your sleepiness added to the allure of your put-on voice.

“Hello, mister, what are you longing for tonight?” You laid back on your pillow and played with the spiral cord.

“Well, I…” You blinked and held the phone against your ear. He sounded familiar, as many of the men did, but his timbre made your ears prick sharply. “I don’t know. I never did nothing like this before.”

You squinted and thought. You knew him but you couldn’t place the twinge in your head.

“I can start for you, darling,” you offered. “Mmm, tell you what I would do to you?”

He cleared his throat and you heard movement. He was nervous. So many of the men sounded the same. Most of them were afraid of being caught by their wives or uncertain about their desires. At first, you had the same fears but had since grown indifferent. It was human nature, as natural as one’s instinct to quench their thirst for water.

“How do you like it, darling? You like it when a lady bends over? I like it like that. Or maybe you want to start with me on my back.”

He groaned and you heard the receiver scratch. He let out a strained breath and moved the phone to his other hand.

“I want to use your mouth.” He said at last. His voice was low and gristly. “I want to push your head down in my lap as I choke you with my cock.”

You stared at the ceiling as you reclined and hummed. “Oh yeah.”

“Shut up.” He snarled. “I don’t want to hear your voice, I just want your mouth on me until you can’t fucking breathe. I want to hear you struggle. I was your tears streaming down your face and salting the taste of me on my tongue. I want to hold you down and cum until it’s deep in your belly.”

You parted your lips and raised your brows. You were still focused on trying to recognize the voice. His tone made you quiver. He was more forceful than most men. A lot of them just talked about sucking on your tits or went straight to fucking.

“I’d love that, darling.” You lied and bent one leg over the other as you swayed your foot.

“I said shut up!” He hissed. “I want to hold you down with my hands around your neck. I want to fuck you until your screaming. I’ll fuck you until you bleed. Until you beg for me to cum again.”

His breath was furious and you heard something else. The phone was moving against his chin as he moaned and you were certain you could hear his hand somewhere else; lower. It set your cheeks on fire and you sat up. His voice, his breath, the sheer anger and lust laced in his rasps. Your throat tightened as if he was truly choking you.

“But I want to cum in your ass. I want to make it hurt. I want you to cry as I tear you apart from the inside.” He growled and coughed as his voice fizzled out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He stroked himself furiously and the receiver dropped with a thump and you flinched. “Fucking bitch, yeah, you want my cock deep in your ass. Fucking whore.”

Your fingers hurt as you gripped the phone tightly and listened. His curses streamed steadily until the line clicked and died suddenly. You lowered the receiver and stairs at the little whole clustered together on the mouthpiece. You set it in the cradle and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

It was unlike any call you’d had. It was terrifying and made your blood curdle. You felt as if it had actually happened as your chest was heavy and your heart raced. You blew out a shaky breath and reached to silence the ringer. 

That was enough for the night.

🚔

The next day at the diner, you couldn’t stop yawning. You hadn’t slept much as the call replayed in your head over and over. The man’s voice was so clear in your mind and every time you started to drift off, he spoke in your ear. You dragged the rag over the top of the counter as Amelia spoke with the elderly couple in that corner.

The door chimed and you looked up. Sheriff Bodecker took off his hat as he entered and nodded at you. With the coffee pot in hand, you went to his table, already set for his arrival. You wished him a good morning and filled his cup. His voice was thick as he muttered his response and picked up the menu. He looked as tired as you felt.

“Strawberry, sheriff?” You prompted.

“Hmm,” he scratched his chin, stubbly from a missed shave. “This Dolsay Leckay. I’ll try that today.” He held out his menu. “I’m trying new things this week.”

You took the menu stiffly and nodded. “Waffles with dolce leche sauce. Right away, sheriff.” 

You turned and walked off to write out his ticket. You returned the coffee pot to its place and set down the menu as you took out your pad and pen. Your hand shook as you scribbled out the order. You stuck it in the window and leaned on the counter.

It couldn’t be him. You were crazy. You didn’t get enough sleep and you were wanting to hear that voice everywhere. Your reassurances were weak and only made you shiver as you righted yourself and continued wiping down the tables.

You angled yourself to look at the sheriff as he squinted down at the newspaper. He stuck his tongue out as he read to poke his top lip and tilted his head coyly. He cleared his throat and coughed as his order rang in the window. 

You went to grab the plate and struggled not to fumble it. It was him. The way he coughed, the gravelly scratch of his throat, the deep and firm undertone. You couldn’t deny it was him. You were stunned you hadn’t recognized him at once.

“There you are, sheriff,” you said as you set down his plate. “Enjoy.”

“I think I will,” he rubbed his hands together. “I’m starving this morning.”

“If you need anything,” you made your usual offer.

He looked at you and smiled. You noticed how his eyes strayed to your name tag and the buttons of your blue dress. He turned to his waffles and took out the knife and fork.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said as he ran the tines of the fork through the dark caramel. “I think I’m just fine.”

You left him to eat and straightened your apron. You were confident you’d changed your voice enough that he didn’t have the same epiphany. Even so, everything about him was different. At least in your head. He was no longer the desolate sheriff, he was desperate and demanding. He wasn’t who you thought he was. He was a man with a lot of power and a hunger to use it.

🚔

It was several days before you dared to leave the ringer on after Eugene’s departure. Your husband was loving but almost entirely absent. Since Ezra was born, he’d only grown more distant and work could not excuse him completely. When you ate dinner late with him, he barely heard you as he kept the radio on and those nights he didn’t work, he didn’t touch you.

You felt worse for your own misdeeds. The phone line made you shy and sullen with him. You should tell him but you didn’t know how and truly, you couldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t take it well and even if he was barely there, you couldn’t lose him. You were already painfully alone.

That night, he volunteered for overtime and so you hardly saw him before he headed out. He said you needed the money but your books were well balanced from your own after hours work. You’d done it to take the burden off of him but he still took the extra time, even as you argued that your bills were in good standing. 

Was it you? When had it all grown so cold?

Ezra ate his mashed peas and you set him down for the night. You heard him cooing still but you kept to your schedule even when he was wide awake. He always tired himself out and never fussed very long.

You sat on your bed and read. You checked the time. The phone would start soon and that night you couldn’t leave it off. You needed the money and you couldn’t be picky about where it came from. The month would be over and there would be a whole new batch of debts to account for.

You jumped as it rang. You kept the volume low so it didn’t carry through the whole house and you answered after several rings. You gave your usual greeting and breathed a sigh of relief when it was one of your regulars. You closed your book and picked your nails as you went along with his routine.

When he finished, you wished him a good night. You were dead tired but one more call wouldn’t hurt. You waited and grabbed the receiver on the first ring.

“Hello, mister, what are you looking for tonight?” You made your voice higher and breathier.

“Shhhh.” The long hush chills your veins. “Don’t talk.”

You quivered. It was him. You looked at the phone cradle.

“Don’t hang up.” He said as if he could read your mind. “You want it, don’t you? You want to feel me inside you. Down your throat, fucking the whore out of you.”

“I…” you uttered.

“I said be quiet.” He barked. “I want my cock so far down your throat I can feel it as I choke you. I want your spit all over me, I want you gasping and gulping until you pass out and I’m fucking your mouth lifeless.”

Your eyes widened and you listened in disgust. He growled and his hand slapped off his thigh as he pleasured himself. You sit paralysed as fear bubbled in your chest and you felt as if he could see you. You crossed your legs and huddled down over the receiver.

“I want to fuck your cunt until it hurts to sit down. I want to hear my body slam into yours, I want you to beg me to stop and keep going at the same time. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t make a noise, until all you can hear is my cock pounding inside of you.”

“Please…” You wanted him to stop. You wanted to hang up and yet you were terrified to move.

“And I know you want it too, whore. I know you need it. Not these words, not these calls, but you need me,” he shuddered “and I need it just as bad.”

He grunted and the line grew still. He hissed and cursed. 

“I’m a fucking mess,” he sneered. Another silence and you think he hung up. His voice startled you when he spoke again. “Who’re ya?”

“Wh-what?”

“I ain’t stupid. You’re some lady in the county. Maybe some lonely housewife. Ain’t sound like no prostitute I ever knew.” He sniffed and let out a groan. “Maybe you some dumb teenager playin’ games on the telephone, huh?”

“I don’t-- No. I--” You hung up. 

You stood and pulled the line out of the phone and dropped down heavily. You put your head in your hands and shook it. Fuck!

🚔

The next morning at the diner, you served the sheriff with a false smile. Every time he spoke, you heard the words he said to you on the phone. Although his tone was placid, his fervour played over and over in your ears. And when you overpoured his coffee, you apologized only to have him assure you it was alright and let you mop up the mess with your rag.

He left you his usual tip and you cleared his table. The newspaper was tinged from your spill and you dumped it on his plate. As you did, a card slipped out onto the table and your handwriting stared back at you from the carefully cut rectangle. You hid it quickly in the newspaper and rushed to toss it all in the trash and drop the plate in the bin.

It must have been a mistake, you assured yourself and excused yourself for a breath of air. The chef, Carson, was already by the kitchen doors and you said yes to a smoke from his pack. You lit it after the third try and inhaled the tobacco deep into your chest. You would go to the phone company tomorrow on your day off and shut down the second line. Your lesson was learned. It wasn’t worth the spare pennies.

Your day dragged by as all you could think of was the line. When you got to the phone company, you were jittery with worry. It was easy enough to shut it down but the fee cost you your tips for the day. You checked the clock before you left, bound to be a few minutes late picking up Ezra.

As you came out onto the street, your open jacket flapped in the wind over your uniform and your mary janes clacked on the pavement as you rushed to get to Enid’s and pick up your son. When you stopped at the corner to wait for traffic to pass, a flash and a honk made you jump.

Sheriff Bodecker pulled up to the curb and rolled down his window. He waved and leaned his arm on the door as he peered out at you.

“You needa ride?” He asked.

You smiled awkwardly and clutched the handles of your weathered purse.

“Sheriff, no thank you, I’m not goin’ too far,” you waved him off.

“Nonsense, you on your feet all day. It’s the least I can do.”

“You must be busy.”

“Radio ain’t goin’ off,” he slapped the door, “now come on.” He reached down and opened the door, stepping out with a groan, “Get in. You always are so nice down at the diner.”

You swallowed and your lips quivered as you tried to hold your smile. You followed him around the other side of the car as he opened the door for you. You got into the vintage cruiser and crossed your legs as you cradled your purse on your lap. He closed the door and dropped in on the other side.

He shifted into gear and pulled off. You thanked him and fiddled with clasp of your purse.

“No problem, but uh, I just needa know where you’re goin’,” he chuckled as he slowed at the next four way.

“Oh, I gotta get Ezra from his gramma’s,” you explained, “She lives just down Carsbee.”

“Not far at all,” he commented as he turned the wheel, “So, how was the rest of your day then?”

“Not so bad,” you said breathily as he looked at you in his mirror and you focused on the pedestrians on the street, “and yours, sheriff?”

“You can call me Lee if ya like,” he offered, “And wasn’t so bad either. Which number is it, sweetheart?”

You sniffed at the pet name, he was usually so formal at the diner with his ma’ams.

“21B,” you answered as you wiggled your foot nervously, “you can just drop me off. It’s not too far to home.”

“Don’t be silly, I wanna meet your boy,” he intoned, “you talk about him so much.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” you murmured as he pulled up along the front of your mother-in-law’s, “I just gotta go get him then.”

You hooked your purse over your elbow and slid over the seat. The sheriff kept you from opening the door as he bid you stay and got out quickly as he rushed around the front of the car. He opened the door like a gentleman and removed his hat. 

“I’m old but I haven’t forgot my manners,” he nodded and waited for you to step out.

You got to your feet and thanked him again before you strolled up the crooked walk to the front door. You knocked and let yourself in like you always did. You could hear Ezra babbling as he played with wooden toy cars. Enid sat in her usual spot and rocked as she watched him.

“How was he today?” You asked as you grabbed the bag you always left with him and packed up the loose ends beside it.

“Loud,” Enid muttered, “hyper.”

“Well, he’s at that age,” you grasped your purse and Ezra’s bag in one hand and picked him up from the floor as he reached out for you. “Alright, Ez, say buh bye to grammy.”

He waved and cooed as you held him on your hip. Enid said buy in her grumpy way and got up to see you to the door. You came down the single step as Lee waited by his cruiser. Ezra buried his face in your shoulder as he turned away from the sheriff.

“Don’t be shy, Ezra, this is the sheriff, Mr. Bodecker,” you tried to shake him upright but he clung to you and hid.

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m used to that,” Lee laughed and opened the door, “people see the badge and they’re not so friendly.”

“He just goin’ through a phase,” you assured as you sat with Ezra in your lap.

As Lee shut the door, you let the bags lean against it and the car dipped as he got in the other side. He turned the engine and you gave him your own address as your son squirmed in your lap. At the first corner, Ezra found the courage to look at the sheriff and the officer looked back and stuck out his tongue.

“He looks like you,” Lee said as he pushed down on the pedal, “real cute.”

You accepted the compliment and hugged Ezra tighter. You could barely process the sheriff’s words as your mind returned to those he spoke the night before. Every time he spoke, you heard him, hissing and cussing at you.

You were relieved when he came up to your house and you turned to grab your bags. You felt a tug on your elbow as you balanced Ezra and your things. You looked back at Lee as he held your arm.

“I’ll get the door,” he said, “you just stay put.”

You waited as he let you go and once more, opened the door for you. He took the bags as you climbed out and you protested that you were fine. His hand settled on your shoulder as he pulled you to face him.

“Well, sweetheart, you gonna invite me in for some coffee?”

You were shocked by his boldness and couldn’t hide it. You blanched and looked at Ezra as he tugged at your jacket. You laughed awkwardly.

“Eugene’s still sleepin’ for his shift, I don’t--”

“We got some things to discuss and I think the least you can do after I was so kind as to drive you home is a coffee.”

You squinted at him in confusion. “Maybe another time, sheriff, I’d really hate to wake--” you reached for your bags and he stopped you with his grip firm on your wrist.

“Does he know?” Lee asked in a gristly voice.

“Know what?”

“Know you a whore?” Lee sneered.

You reeled and tried to twist from his grasp. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can’t say them words on the phone and not mean ‘em,” he leaned in close, “Now I think you know what I want to talk with you about so you invite me in and I’ll be real nice about it but if you keep me out here, I can’t promise your neighbours won’t get a show.”

You pouted and rocked Ezra as he began to fidget, sensing your discomfort. “Please, I got Ezra--”

“You put him in the next room so we can discuss,” Lee insisted.

He let go of you and you nodded dumbly. You watched him wearily as you turned and led him up the walk. You unlocked the front door and he followed you inside. He hung his hat on the rack with his leather jacket and you hurried into the bedroom to set Ezra down in his crib. You distracted him with his stuffed rabbit and left him. He was usually due for a nap around then anyway.

When you got back to the front room, Lee sat on your couch and you went to the kitchen to start the coffee. You waited for the water to boil and filled the percolator as you dreaded what would come next. You poured a mug and set it out on the coffee table with the sugar dish. 

Lee leaned forward and spooned the sweet powder into his mug as you stood and wrung your hands. How had he figured it all out? How long had he known? Was he going to tell Eugene?

“Sit,” he said as he inhaled the savoury scent and took a cautious sip. His mug made a deafening clink as he set it down and you sat. “I s’pose you went by the phone company to end your little game.”

You sucked your lip in nervously and nodded as you looked down guiltily.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, “you know I was down there a few days ago and they just hand the records over if I say I got a warrant. They ain’t look close enough to realise it’s just a receipt.”

You gulped and kept your head down. You ran your tongue against your lip and blinked away the moisture in your eyes.

“How long you been doin’ all that?” he asked.

“Couple months,” you admitted, “I just needed some extra money. Ever since Ezra was born…”

“But you could get another job.”

“I gotta be home for the boy. Eugene never is.”

“Now a woman don’t be talkin’ like that if she happy. If she not alone.”

“Stop, please. It was a mistake. I’m sorry if you feel like I--”

“Sorry?” he interrupted, “you’re sorry? You think Gene would accept that?”

You sat in silence and picked at the button on your jacket. You hadn’t even bothered to take it off. “You gonna tell him?”

He let out a heavy breath and took another drink of coffee. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You looked at him and furrowed your brow in confusion. You shook your head as he smirked.

“I will if you make me but if you want me to stay quiet--”

“Sheriff--”

“Shhhh,” he raised a finger, “now, you want me keep my mouth shut, you be waitin’ for me tonight after he goes.”

You stared at him in terror as your heart threatened to jump up your throat.

“And then we’re done talkin’. Then you do all those things we spoke about.”

“You can’t-- I got a son.”

“And a husband but you still be talkin’ to strange men about your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”

You blew a shaky breath between your trembling lips and sank down in the chair in shame. “I thought you were a good man, sheriff.”

“I am, don’t mean I’m not lonely.”

He drained the rest of the mug and coughed. He stood and adjusted his belt, his hand lingering on his belt. You watched his finger trace the barrel and your eyes crept up to his face.

“I’d hate to wake your husband, sweetheart, so I’ll be on my way.” he retreated around the couch and paused by the door, “but I’ll be around.”

🚔

The night went by faster than any. You never felt like you got much time with your husband but it was almost as if he was gone as soon as he woke. He left you with a peck on your forehead and dread in your chest. You thought of telling him, you wanted to confess and fix everything that had broken, but you couldn’t. You were too ashamed.

So when he was gone, you put Ezra down for the night and hoped the Sheriff was just trying to scare you. He couldn’t be serious, could he? You’d known him for years and he was only every sweet at the diner. He was a solitary man but was never unkind. That afternoon, he had been an entirely different man.

You sat on the couch, no radio, no nothing, and picked at the lines of your hand. You were certain you would sit up all night and laugh at yourself in the morning. He was just making sure you stopped, that had to be it.

But then the knock came and your whole body went rigid. You waited until it sounded again, harder, louder. You got up and went to the door. You didn’t need to look out to know who it was. You opened up and Lee watched you with his menacing blue eyes. They were no longer the gentle gems you knew from the diner.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled as he stepped inside and you backed away from him.

He closed the door and locked it then he removed his hat and jacket, just as he had earlier. He bent to ease off his boots and stood as he cleared his throat. He peered behind you and looked around your small house.

“I’m just in time, huh?” he mused as he touched your side and let it slip down to your hip. “What you shakin’ for?”

“I thought…” you rasped. “Sheriff, you know me. I’m not a bad woman.”

“You ain’t?” he snickered. “I do know you. I’m the only one in the county who knows the real you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doin’ this,” you whined.

“I’m old but not decrepit,” he took your hand and raised it, “and you’re a beautiful woman. I daresay,” he kissed the back of your hand, “motherhood did make you even sweeter.”

“Please,” you begged.

“You get in that bedroom before I lose the last of my will,” he bit his lip as he looked you up and down and released your hand.

You shivered and backed away from him. You went blindly to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. You couldn’t, not in the bed you shared with your husband. Lee came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle.  His hot breath tickled your ear as he leaned into you.

“I wanna see what you hide under that dress,” he purred, “now don’t make me ruin it.”

You gasped and drew away from him. You neared the foot of the bed and unbuttoned the top of your dress. Your fingers were ungainly as you struggled and you pushed the sleeves down your arms with a stifled sob. You shoved the fabric past your waist and hips and his growl made you stand upright with a snap.

Your stockings were held up by fraying garters and your old underwear added to your shame. Your brasserie was pointed and too tight. You hung your head and balled your hands into fists.

“Turn around, I wanna see you,” he said.

You reluctantly obeyed and stared at the floor. He hummed and his thumb ran over his belt buckle. A sudden cry made your blood cold and he scowled. Ezra was awake.

You moved to go to him and the sheriff blocked the door.

“I gotta go to him. He must’ve had a bad dream.”

“I’ll take care of the boy. You just be waitin’ when I get back.” he ran his tongue under his teeth, “naked.”

He pointed to the bed and didn’t leave until you took several steps back. You listened as he went to the small room attached to the master. You worried he might hurt the boy but his coaxing voice surprised you. 

“Shhh,” you heard the distant tone, “it’s okay, son, it’s okay.”

You reached to unhook your bra and sat to roll your stockings off. You needed this man gone. If you abided him, he would be away sooner. You dropped the last of your clothing to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Your nails dug into the blankets and you closed your eyes.

It was over a year since you’d been touched. That alone made you shy but that man made you terrified. You heard him enter but didn’t look up at him. “You get up on all fours and ready that mouth for me.” he ordered as you heard his buckle tink, “yeah, I wanna start there.”

You swallowed and did as he said. You felt like some lowly animal as you stared at the floor. You heard the flutter of fabric as he stripped and when he came close, you shut your eyes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you to the edge. He tapped the tip of his cock along your lips.

“Now, open up, sweetheart,” he snarled, “I know you remember every word I said.”

You parted your lips and he forced his way into your mouth. He poked at the back of your throat but didn’t relent. You gagged as he sank down your throat and your entire body twitched. His hand went to your neck as he drew back and pushed back in. He felt himself as he invaded your throat over and over.

“Ah, yes, that’s it,” he uttered, “you can’t tell me you’re not a whore. You take me like one.”

You tried to swallow around him and breath and it made him groan. He kept fucking your face as his hand squeezed your throat. Your spit spilled out and smeared across your face and his pelvis. He kept your head bobbing until you were dizzy and dazed.

He stopped, deep down your throat, and grunted. He let out a shuddery breath and pushed you off of him. You slipped down onto your stomach and gasped over the side of the bed.

“Hoo, I almost blew,” he huffed, “oh, you bad, bad girl.” He trailed his hand down your back and slapped your ass, “turn around and get back up.”

You whimpered and lifted yourself back to your knees. You moved stiffly around and wiped your mouth as the taste of him stained your tongue. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back. He kneaded your ass with hungry growls and pinched your thigh. He felt along your cunt and tutted.

“You wet for me,” he taunted, “just from a taste, sweetheart.”

You dropped your head and he moved closer. He pressed the head of his dick against your folds and ran it up and down as you slickened. He lined up with your entrance and his large hand gripped your hip. He slid into you with a sigh and you let out a startled cry. Maybe it was because it was so long but he felt massive. You quivered around him and clenched your teeth.

“Oh, fuck, you want it just as bad as me, don’t ya?” He bucked his hips and you exclaimed, “how am I suppose to hold back with you squeezin’ me like that?”

He didn’t hold back as he caught his stride. He hammered into you as your flesh slapped loudly. You feared the noise would wake your son again, or worse, be heard by the neighbours. He groaned and grunted as he rammed into you and your thighs quaked. Ripples rolled over your spine and multiplied down your legs.

He stretched his hand over your back and slid them up to your shoulders. He bent over you as he forced your arms to fold beneath you and pushed your head into the mattress. He stilled and wiggled his hips until you moaned. He pulled one hand away from your shoulder as the other spread over your neck.

He slid out of your cunt and spread your juices up and down. He guided his dick between your cheeks and leaned into to pant in your ear. “I didn’t forget about your ass.”

He pushed against your hole and you tensed. His hand tightened on your neck and he poked harder. 

“You relax or it’ll hurt more,” he coaxed, “come on, almost…”

He pushed past your ring and you both gasped. Your eyes filled with tears and you sniffed as he urged himself deeper past your resistance. He let out a long breath as he advanced inch by inch. He drew back each time before adding more and when he was at his limit, you sobbed and clawed at the mattress.

“Oh, oh, fuck, oh, shit,” he swore as he rocked his hips, “you know, urgh, I wanted to do this for so long. Even ‘fore I called.”

He growled and built a steady pace as he stretched you. Your tears seeped into the blanket as his grip threatened to break your neck. His belly bounced against the top of your ass as he rutted without restraint.

“I always thought ‘bout you over that table. Always thought-- Always thought you deserved better than that husband,” he rasped out, “but I never thought you’d feel so good.”

He slammed into you harder than before. Your legs fell out from beneath you and he was quick to descend over you, covering you with his body as he bent his arm across the back of your head. He fucked you into the mattress as your head began to spin and your body reacted to his.

You’d never felt anything so intense as the maelstrom of pain and pleasure building inside you. You moaned and muttered until the sudden tide swept you up and had you murmuring like a fool, drooling onto the bed as he kept on.

He planted his hand on either side of you and lifted himself. He dropped his hips down into your ass over and over. The symphony of flesh filled your mind and you succumbed to the afterglow of tortured delight. He sank as far as he could and spasmed.

“Shit, oh, sweetheart, sweetheart,” he slowed and lowered his sweaty body onto you. You suffocated beneath him as his heart beat against your back. “Oh, you made me… made me blow.” He tilted his hips. “You feel how I filled your ass?”

You let out shallow breaths and turned your face into the blanket. He grunted and raised himself off of you, his cock slipping out easily and his cum trickling down after. He fell onto his back beside you and tried to catch his breath. He reached over blindly and let his fingertips dance along your ass.

“Really it ain’t your fault,” he said as his fingers crawled along the top of your thigh, “a man must be crazy to leave you all alone at night.”

[tender-rosiey]

hi hi <3 back to request bc i just love your work!

could i request haikyuu boys reacting to their fem!s/o getting a phone call and a guy on the other line says “hey, you home alone?” or something along those lines. there was a tik tok trend where girls would get a fake ft call with a guy saying ^ to see how their boyfriends would react, i think i may be able to find a video if you want but i do hope i explained this well :)

❥ “Hey, you home alone?” Prank on HQ characters

Includes Oikawa, Bokuto, Tsukishima and Kageyama

ᴀ/ɴ: i am glad you like my work, luv and this looks fun to write and I love these pranks a lot! hope you liked this luv 💕 also did my blog really go quack or is my stuff just getting ignored 👩‍🦲

Oikawa Tooru:

I would like to write a whole damn essay about how much I love oikawa but this is not our topic for today until now at least

SO, you felt bored and wanted to do something, plus oikawa has been free from pranks for far too long

That’s another reason why TikTok is your place to go for pranks

You saw said prank and wanted to do it since our lovely tooru has rather interesting reactions

So you set it up the sound and held your phone while your boyfriend is in the kitchen counter behind you preparing a snack for movie night

It was all fine and dandy until

“Hey, you home alone?”

You suddenly heard things stumble and your boyfriend was beside you in a snap with a frown on his face

“No she is not alone and in fact we are going on a date so you can just go FUCK YOURSELF— babe you are recording?”

You then smiled cheekily before bursting out laughing resulting in the blank stare and a pout from your boyfriend beside you

“Y/N, that’s mean, how dare you?”

However you didn’t expect your boyfriend to slam down on you and try and suffocate you with hugs

“Tooru get off!”

“No, apologize!”

He also peppered your face with kisses until you were sorry

You also posted the TikTok and it got more than 400k likes 👩‍🦲

And my favorite part is the comments so let’s start

Some of them were like

“LMAO THE SPEED HE GOT THERE WITH”

and “he is so pretty tho tf”

as well as “the kisses at the end were adorable tho lol”

Of course his ass was sticking out while peppering you with kisses so someone commented

“What a flat ass”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bokuto Koutarou:

I personally believe that Bokuto would have TikTok and would know about the trends unlike the dumbass up there who I think would only stick to one side of TikTok

Bokuto likes diversity in everything and doesn’t like getting left out, once again it’s my opinion

So he obviously knows the trend and you know that he knows, so you got a video of someone with a voice he never heard

He had just came from training and entered the home with a big smile and greeted you with a kiss

And so as he turned his back to you he heard

“Hey, you home alone?”

Bokuto threw the toilet roll at your phone knocking it down

His hair then deflated and looked at you with a look that made you feel extremely guilty

“Kou, it’s a prank.”

He then crossed his arms and faced away pouting

Now how do we make up things to a deflated and pouty Bokuto Koutaro, the great captain of Fukurodani?

Hug him from behind and start kissing his cheek and face then tighten the hug, like you are doing right now

He starts to relax to your touch still being just a little petty

“Don’t do that again, Y/N; these pranks aren’t funny.” He said barely audible as he was trying not to break his pout

He then broke into a fit of laughter and turned to hug you cause I stand by word when I say bokuto loves physical affection with every fiber of his being

And you guys continued the day cuddling <3

Onto the comments:

“HOW COULD HE KNOCK US DOWN LIKE THAT”

“That aim tho”

“HE IS SO MUSCULAR”

“Can we buy someone like him?”

He also gave you a kiss on the cheek while the camera was filming

Cause ✨ AFFECTION ✨

And by the way

He told kuroo about this

And kuroo is planning a lovely prank to get you back for what you did for his bro 🥱

And kou doesn’t have any idea that kuroo is doing a prank even

Tsukishima Kei:

BAHAHA

The fact that you thought this was a good idea is very humorous, however tsukishima has TikTok, but ,unlike Bokuto, he literally knows everything

And he knew the moment you kept staring at him with a smirk on your face that there is something up

Inasmuch he was patiently waiting for your time to strike

He however then heard kageyama’s voice say

“Hey, you home alone?”

Love, when I tell you he whipped his head so damn fast he almost snapped it

“Hey king why don’t you go stick your dick in a dirt hole instead, y/n is too good for you.”

Cue you laughing while replaying the recording of kageyama saying that same line three more times

Explaining to him that it was a prank took some long time cause tsukishima was being a petty bitch

“Keiiii, I told you I am sorry—“ “no.” “Please, talk to me!”

Maybe just give him a hug or threaten him with going to kageyama and he will hug you from behind

“Don’t do it again, or I will never forgive you.”

Of course you wouldn’t go off the hook so easily sweetie

Tsukishima Kei ,as Tanaka once said, never forgets to counter and take revenge

So you basically started a prank war and may god be with your neighbors

But y’all still gonna watch the movie you agreed on and gossip so 🙄

You even managed to make him put on a face mask which I salute you for by the way

He is a little disappointed in himself cause he already knew you were gonna do something but still was shocked or rather startled

And for the comments which are the loveliest

“Woah is his neck okay—“

“The GLARE HE SO MAD”

“So stubborn wow”

You showed kageyama his reaction and he almost burst out laughing instead just ended up smirking in an evil way

While on the other hand hinata was rolling on the floor having the best laugh of his life aside from the one after his first receive which I was very proud of him for

Kageyama Tobio:

Hinata was low key gonna ruin it all

Why?

He almost laughed his way through the one sentence he was supposed to say

So your boyfriend was just doing his nails peacefully like the pretty boy setter he is until your dumbass decided to do the prank him while he was doing that

And so in the middle of his nail care session he heard the voice of his best friend say

“Hey, you home alone?”

You didn’t want to use the actual audio since when you guys cuddle he watched TikTok with you and basically knows the trends because of you

Unlike his senior who despite having TikTok doesn’t remember trends for shit

So you called his best friend and made him take part in this and sacrifice his being for a good laugh

Anyways back to him almost injuring his finger when he heard it

“HINATA BOKE WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM Y/N?!”

“BAHAHAHAHA I AM SORRY Y/N I CANT!”

He kept glaring at hinata through the phone and ended up hanging up on him and returning him to the “to serve at their head” list for the 37th time

He just looked at you and pouted unintentionally

“It wasn’t funny you know, you scared me.”

Aw

now make it up to him

“What can I do so you can forgive me then, Tobio?”

“…milk and cuddles.”

And so he got it what he asked for

Hinata’s funeral got scheduled 3 days later but he made it out alive so it’s okay :D

The comments were interesting to say the least

“Did he just do like oxen do? You know, the air from their nose when mad”

“THE NAIL; IT ALMOST BROKE NO”

“So pretty”

“I feel like the orange headed dude is gonna get his ass handed to him.”

He went to ask noya and tanaka for advice to get you back for what you did

To which they told him to ignore you for 24 hours

They also shared the idea because they heard oikawa and tsukishima talking about it separately

They also showed him their evil laugh

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported