#probably the last of these drabbles for the night!

[feelingsdumpcaptain]

her heart isn't gone

A/N: this is literally just a bunch of drabbles put into one post :') and yes, maybe i was listening to his car isn't yours on repeat as i worked on this. i haven't written in awhile so i'm a little rusty but i can't keep editing this so sorry for any inconsistencies.

Words: 8.6k (haha whoops!)

Emily briskly makes her way toward the cafe near the hotel, hoping to get a chance at a pastry. She could feel the sun warming her back and she regrets the blazer thrown over her longsleeve. It was peak summer and the team arrived in Carmel late last night so the heat hadn’t set in yet. Now that she feels the heat early this morning, she wonders how much warmer it can get.

She tugs on the cafe door, the smell of freshly baked goods surrounding her. Her mouth waters and her stomach rumbles as she considers the different options.

Lemon blueberry muffin, almond croissant, cheese strudel, banana bread…

She decides on the lemon blueberry muffin but just as she’s about to ask for it, she watches as they take the last one and place it into a bag. Her eyes follow, seeing them hand it over to a woman at the register and sighs. 

Emily makes her way to the front and glances at the coffee menu. “Hi, one salted cream vanilla latte and an almond croissant, please.” 

Once she pays, she steps off to the side and pulls out her phone to check for any messages. 

JJ (5:53 AM): Is anyone up for a run? Morgan (6:03 AM):  Sorry, some of us have already finished our workout ;) Garcia (8:48 AM): Do you people ever sleep???

Emily huffs a small laugh. She goes to reply but hears her name called for her order and puts her phone away. She grabs her drink and croissant and goes to throw a ‘thanks!’ over her shoulder as she heads out. As excited as she is about her drink, it’s short-lived when she feels herself bump into someone else. She only loses her breath from the impact but the coffee in her hand falls from her grip and spills.

She glances down and her eyes meet yours, the one who took the last lemon blueberry muffin. Emily can admit she finds you pretty, even with the dazed look on your face as you look up at Emily. She can feel the heat rush to her face when she realizes she’s just been staring and offers her hand to help you up. 

“Are you alright?” Emily asks, giving a gentle tug. Her eyes scan your clothes. “Did the coffee spill on you?”

You shake your head, cheeks going pink. “I’m okay, thank you. No coffee stains either.”

Emily’s chest flutters at the flush on your cheeks, keeping her smile small. “As long as you’re not hurt.”

You wave your hand. “Really, I’m okay. Just embarrassed. Here.” You hold out the white paper bag, and Emily realizes it’s the muffin she wanted.

“Oh, no. I can’t.”

“I insist! Please. You spilled your coffee. Or I could buy you another?”

Emily glances at her watch and winces. “I don’t think I have enough time to wait for another one. It’s okay.”

You push the bag into Emily’s free hand. “Take it. It’s delicious. They’re known for these muffins here.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you, then. I’m still really sorry about bumping into you. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention.” 

“No worries. I could say the same for myself.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’m kinda known for being clumsy around town. Anyway, I better go before I embarrass myself even more. If you see me here again, let me know and I’ll buy you your coffee!” You give Emily a small wave and head out. 

*

Emily leans back in her seat, glancing out of the cafe window. She arrived earlier than expected, and the cafe was still quiet. She was able to grab two of the lemon blueberry muffins right as they came out of the oven, two resting on the table. She could feel the chill in the air, but her iced latte probably didn’t help.

She hears the bell over the door ring, her eyes glancing over. Her eyes meet yours, a small smile on her lips.

“You’re here early.” You sit across from her and reach for one of the muffins.

“More like late night. I haven’t exactly slept yet, but I didn’t want to risk sleeping through the morning.”

You grin and bat your eyelashes. “Aw, you didn’t want to miss our morning munchies?”

Emily lets out a huff. “Please don’t call it that.”

“But that’s what we do.” You take a bite of the muffin, glancing at the iced coffee Emily held onto. “Is that your salted cream latte?”

Emily’s eyes narrow, pulling the drink a bit closer to her. “Maybe. Why?”

Your eyes go wide and your lips pull into a small pout. “Can I have a sip?”

“What? Why? You don’t even like the cream on top! You’ve tried this latte multiple times and each time, you say you don’t like it.” 

“What if I change my mind this time?”

Emily laughs. “You won’t.”

*

“Are you following me?”

Emily rolls her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I live here so I should be asking you that question.” You bump your shoulder into Emily, a smile on your face. “Who told you about my secret getaway?”

Emily laughs. “Secret getaway? It’s the beach.”

“Yeah, but this spot in particular. It’s away from the main boardwalk and it’s hidden.” 

Emily grins, leaning into you. “I have my ways.”

“Uh-huh. So you are stalking me.”

“Stalking? Please, you flatter yourself.”

You let out a small laugh, enjoying the warmth from Emily’s body. “I’m surprised you’re not working. How did you get a Saturday night off?”

“Told ‘em I had a hot date.”

*

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Emily rubs at the inside of her wrist, just below her watch. She tries to look at you but can’t bring herself to, focusing on the empty plate between them. 

“What’s up?” You wipe at the table with a napkin, gathering the crumbs into a single spot.

“Well, we caught the guy last night so I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Oh.” You pause and look at Emily. “How soon?”

“Two hours?” Emily winces at the look on your face. “I’m sorry. We’re very… we move around, and fast.”

You can only nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying our… us. I just can’t stay.”

“No, I understand. I mean, I knew that from the start. I just wasn’t expecting you to leave so fast after you caught him. I thought you might get like, a day or two off.”

“As nice as that sounds, that rarely happens. You know what they say.”

“...What?”

Emily sits up straight and clears her throat, her voice lowering. “Crime never sleeps.”

You groan. “Ew, don’t ever say that again, please.”

*

“Hey, are you up for drinks tonight?” 

Emily glances up from her computer screen, finding JJ leaning against her desk.

“Ah, not tonight. I’ve… got plans.” Emily hopes JJ doesn’t push but this is the third time she’s missed out on drinks with the team. “Next time?”

JJ’s eyes narrow, staring at Emily.

“Stop trying to profile me.”

“Only if you tell me why you haven’t been out with us for the past three Friday nights. The first time, fine, we get it. The second time, it’s a little suspicious. But the third time? You are not getting out of it without an explanation. I will tell Garcia on you.”

Emily huffs, leaning back into her chair. “I have plans.” She holds a finger up. “That I cannot cancel or reschedule.”

“Uh-huh. And does it, by any chance, have anything to do with a certain woman from a certain beach town we may have been in recently?” JJ’s smirking now, arms crossed. “And it wouldn’t be because she’s been visiting every weekend since then, would it?”

Emily only gapes at her. “How— who told you that? How do you even know about her?”

JJ shrugs. “I went on a run every morning there that no one ever showed up for. I ran through the whole town eventually and may have seen you at the same cafe around the same time with the same woman.”

“If you know, then why are you asking?”

“I didn’t but you just confirmed it for me.” JJ taps her desk with her knuckles before heading out. “Well, maybe next week you’ll bring her along. Goodnight, Emily!”

Emily only groans, dropping her head into her hands.

*

You step out onto the sidewalk, waving to the doorman. It was almost 8 and Emily was on her way. Your heart flutters in anticipation and you rock back and forth on your feet as you wait. 

The sight of headlights coming down the street catches your attention, and you follow with your eyes as it approaches. You recognize the Jeep and get in, eyes meeting Emily’s. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, hand brushing against the one resting the gear shift.

Emily gives you a small kiss on the edge of your lips, letting out a quiet hello before leaning back into her seat. “Ready?” 

Your seatbelt clicks into place. “Uh-huh. Where are we going on this exhilarating Friday night?”

“Exhilarating? I was thinking of taking you to my place to crochet.”

“Emily.” 

“What? You don’t want to spend quality time with me? Not to mention Sergio is just dying to meet you.” She pulls away from the curb, eyes focused.

“Oh, are you ready to introduce me to your family?” You tease, leaning close enough for her to feel your breath on her cheek. “Are we taking that next step so soon? You haven’t even taken me to bed yet.”

Emily’s hand immediately falls onto your thigh, her grip tight. “Don’t start.” She hesitates, before coming to a stop in a parking lot. “But… what do you think about it?” 

You abruptly pull away from her, eyebrows raised. “What do I think about meeting your family? Emily, we haven’t even… it’s only been–”

“No! No, I don’t mean my family. Well, I mean I do but I don’t mean my parents. I meant more like my team.” Emily grabs your hand, pulling it close to her lips. “I haven’t told them anything but they have their suspicions.”

“God, Em, don’t scare me like that.” You let out a shuddered breath, closing your eyes. “Why do you want me to meet them suddenly?”

“Just… it would be nice, I think, if I could spend time with the people I care most altogether?” She glances at you, eyes wide.

“Oh, you’re good.” 

*

You felt a paw lightly pat your face, the fur tickling your nose.

“Sergio, please. Five more minutes,” you groan. You turn over in bed, trying to bury your face in the pillow that still smells like Emily’s shampoo.

You hear a laugh from the other side of the room. “You should know better than that.”

“He’s your son, why isn’t he bothering you instead?”

“Because he knows that I have to get ready for work.” You hear Emily shuffling in her closet. “Hey, have you seen that blue button-up of mine, by chance?”

You pause, looking down at your body wearing that exact button-up. You pull the blanket up higher. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Might be in the dirty laundry pile? I can start it today while you’re at work.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She grunts, putting her shoes on. “Also, what do you think we should have for dinner?”

“Whatever you want, babe.” You sigh, realizing sleep is no longer coming. 

Emily chuckles, sitting next to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? It’s supposed to be quick.” She presses a kiss onto your forehead. “And maybe we can…” 

You smack her with her pillow. “Let you in my pants one time and now it’s all you think about. Get outta here.”

She laughs, resting her body on top of yours. 

“Em! Please, I can’t breathe.” You push at her shoulders, laughing.

“You seem to be breathing just fine.” She relaxes her body even more, letting her full weight rest on you. “And I’ll have you know that you seduced me!”

“That’s not true! You’re the one who wined and dined me, showing off your fancy wine knowledge and your fancy French.”

“Fancy French?” Emily chuckles, rolling her eyes. “It’s just French, babe.”

She pushes herself up, adjusting her shirt before her eyes land on you. “Hey, that’s my shirt!”

“Oops?”

“You’re lucky I think you’re so cute.”

*

It starts with a small itch on your cheek during dinner that you brushed off. As you lean back into your seat as Emily drives, eyes drooping, you think it might be a stray hair tickling your face. Emily’s talking about possibly going out for drinks tomorrow night with her team but you’ve started to rub at your eyes. 

“Hey, you okay?” Emily’s brows furrow, watching you unable to keep your hands from your face. 

“I’m okay, my face just feels a little funny.” The skin of your face actually feels so tight, especially when you try to smile. “Hey, Em…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Was there, by any chance, Thai eggplant in any of our dishes tonight?”

“I think the curry did. Why?” 

You huff out a laugh. “Oh no.” 

“Oh no, what? Should I be taking you to the ER?” Her voice is rising in pitch, eyes darting to try and think of the nearest ER. “Baby, you’re allergic? Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh God, do you need me to grab an EpiPen? Do you even have one?”

“Relax, Emily, I’m fine, and no need for an EpiPen. I’ll be okay, it’ll go away on its own. I’ll pop a Claritin and I should be okay.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re allergic? Are you allergic to anything else?” Emily’s biting onto her lower lip, eyes glancing over to you every few minutes. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”

“I’m sure, but thank you for caring. And no, as far as I’m aware, I’m not allergic to anything else. I do try to stay away from fava beans though. Not allergic but it does make me feel nauseous.”

“Fava beans? What the hell are those?”

“It’s usually in like hummus and falafel, but I think you can make them into a dish itself? Not sure, but again, I stay away from it in general.”

“So hummus and falafel are banned from my house, got it.” 

“Emily, don’t be ridiculous. You can have those in your house, they’re not going to kill me.” You pat her thigh. “Thank you for your concern though.”

“What if you accidentally eat it?”

“Emily,” you chuckle. “What’s the hummus going to do, open its container, scoop itself onto a spoon, and force its way into my hand?”

*

You spin yourself around in Emily’s chair, staring at the ceiling and wondering what movie to watch tonight. It’d been a long day for you, your flight being delayed stranding you at the airport for a few hours. By the time your plane landed, it was late, and there weren’t many cabs around. It felt like every part of your trip was a challenge, and you were just glad to finally be near Emily.

You glance at the meeting room she’s in and can only wonder what she’s discussing with Hotch that has her looking so troubled. 

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here! How was the flight?” Penelope leans against Emily’s desk. “I saw it was delayed.”

“You saw?” You shake your head. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Penelope grins, sending you a wink. “You should know better.”

“The flight was okay, definitely felt longer than usual. Then when I get here, there’s like no cabs at the airport. Which, fine, I get it, it’s late but seriously? And then when I try to get an Uber, the price is like triple the usual rate!” You roll your eyes, leaning back in the chair. “I should’ve just rented a car.”

“Well, at least you made it. Are we seeing you at all this weekend or is Emily hogging you for the whole time?” 

“Ah, well, I guess that’s up to Emily. I’m up for a girl’s night this weekend.” You tap at your chin. “There is a cocktail lounge I’ve been wanting to try but I think they’re only accepting reservations.” 

“Hm, interesting. I’m not making any promises but I’m gonna try and work some magic and see if I can get us on the list.” Penelope wiggles her eyebrows. “All you have to do is convince your big, bad girlfriend to say yes to sharing you.” 

“Not a chance, Garcia.” Emily’s standing behind her, arms crossed. 

“Aw, but Emily! We haven’t seen Y/N in so long and you always keep her to yourself every weekend.” 

“Yeah, Emily, stop hogging me,” you tease, leaning forward onto her desk.

She throws her hands up. “Fine, we can do a girl's night. Pick a place and time, Pen, but tonight, we’re busy.” Emily tugs at your arm, pulling you to the exit.

“Goodnight, Penelope! Let me know about the cocktail lounge!” You wave, happy to be dragged away.

Once you get into Emily’s car, you can’t help but look at her and grin. “You don’t have to be so jealous, you know.”

She scoffs. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? You’re not secretly dating Penelope or JJ.” She pauses. “Are you?”

“I don’t know, am I?” 

Emily pinches your cheek. “Don’t be a smartass.”

“You love that about me.” You freeze, heat rushing to your face and the tips of your ears going pink. “Emily, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“I do. Love you, I mean. Granted, I didn’t think this was when I would tell you this. Maybe at a nice dinner or home but… I do.” 

“Home?” You stare at her, heart stuttering. “You love me?”

“So much,” Emily breathes out. 

You can only smile, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You’re something else, Emily Prentiss, but I love you too.”

*

“So… what are your thoughts on being neighbors?” You focus on the book in your hands, refusing to look at Emily beside you on the couch.

“Excuse me?” She lays her book down and turns to face you. “Neighbors?”

You hesitate before looking at her. “My contract in Carmel is ending and I’ve been offered an analyst position with the city. Here. I haven’t accepted yet because I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

She frowns, grabbing your hand. “Y/N… if it’s a great opportunity, you should take it regardless of my opinion.”

“I know but I don’t want to make it seem like I’m… being pushy? Or rushing you? It’s one thing to date someone long distance, it’s another to be in the same city.”

“Shouldn’t I be happy that I get to see you more often than just weekends?” She tilts her head. “Not only that, but if you don’t accept this position, doesn’t that mean you won’t have a job?”

“That’s not my point, Em. I just mean that maybe you might feel… suffocated. With me, here. Yes, we love each other but–”

“No buts.” She presses her finger against your lips. “But I’m hurt that you’re planning to be my neighbor.”

“What do you mean? You want me to live on the other side of town or something?” You grab her hand and move it to your lap. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No, I mean, why wouldn’t you just be my roommate?”

You splutter. “Excuse me? You want me to move in?”

“Well, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? If you got a place, we’d just be going back and forth between the two. Not to mention paying an unnecessarily ridiculous price for a place.” Emily begins to list the reasons on her fingers. “We have dinner together every night you’re here, you currently don’t have a car, this house is decently close to the city office, and I have the room for you. Obviously.” She leans back against the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh, and closes her eyes. “Any other concerns?”

You can only gape at her, at a loss for words.

“Now the real question is this: how much are they offering you to take the job with the city?” She opens her eyes to look at you. “Baby?”

You shake your head. “Their initial offer is for $175,000.”

“Christ, for maps?!”

“Hey! You use maps at your job all the time so you’re welcome. And I said it’s their initial offer. I’d technically be considered a senior analyst, so it’s closer to $200,000.” 

Emily’s eyes roll back. “God, keep talking dirty to me.”

“Em!” You tug at her ear gently. “You’re so annoying.”

*

You can barely hear the knock over the music you have playing, but you’ve been expecting it. Swinging the door open, you find JJ and Henry standing with bags over their shoulders.

“Ah, my royal guests have arrived for the night.” You step aside to let them in, locking the door behind them. “Are we hungry yet?”

JJ groans. “Please tell me you made what I think you made.”

You turn the volume down on the sound system low enough to not have to yell. “That depends. What are you hoping I made?”

Henry wraps himself around your legs. “Pasta chicken, please.”

You gasp. “How did you know I made pesto chicken? Do you have superpowers?” You look up at JJ. “You can put your stuff in the guest room if you’d like. Or we can set up in the living room?”

“No, the guest room is great. I’ll be right back.” She grabs Henry’s bag from the floor and heads down the hallway.

“Alright, my dude, let’s check on the food. And I made brownies for dessert.” You guide Henry toward the kitchen, stomach grumbling. “Emily also better get her butt here sooner than later, or else.”

“Or else what?” 

You jump, hand flying to your chest. “JJ, please, not everyone is an FBI agent!” 

She lets out a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Habit, I guess. Did you need any help?”

You wave her off. “Nah, I got it. I have drinks in the fridge if you want some. There’s beer, wine, soda, and j-u-i-c-e.”

“Sounds good. Want me to grab you anything?” JJ tugs the fridge open, pursing her lips. “How’s the wine?”

“Don’t know, it’s Emily’s.” You let out a small laugh. “Feel free to open it.”

She shakes her head, pulling the bottle of wine out and a juice for Henry. “Her loss, I guess.”

“Whose loss?”

You both jump this time. “Christ, Emily!” You rub your temples. “I’m not going to survive like this. I feel like my heart’s restarted so many times since moving in.”

“Well, maybe if you listened to me about the music volume, you wouldn’t be so jumpy.” She tugs you close. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about music.”

“You have it on so you don’t feel lonely when you’re home alone,” Emily and JJ both recite. 

“Wow.” You scoff. “I don’t say it that often!”

JJ leans down to hand Henry his juice, wiping the condensation on her pants. “You don’t have to. It’s always on when we come over.”

“And it’s always on when I come home from work.”

“Well, it’s better than just sitting here in silence by myself.”  

Emily smiles, heading to the fridge. “I know you don’t like when it’s too quiet. It’s okay.”

*

Emily’s chin drops down to her chest and lets out a heavy sigh. She was late, much later than she told you. She rubs at the ridges of her house key feeling like a stone sat in her stomach. Things have been somewhat tense the past few weeks and she knows she hasn’t made it better. This is the fifth Friday night she’s missed, and it doesn’t help that it was your anniversary tomorrow. 

She’d promised you she’d be home early but the team caught a case right after lunch. She tried to keep you updated throughout the day but by the time it hit midnight, you stopped replying. Emily pushes her way in, instantly rearming the alarm. Setting her bags down on the small side table, she heads further in, ears straining to hear for any movement.

She notes the lack of music and wonders how long it’s been off. By the time she makes it to the bedroom, she’s shed her shoes and blazer. Emily sighs once more when she sees you asleep in bed, Sergio curled onto the pillow beside you. 

She makes her way to the closet, shuffling through to grab some pajamas. She can shower tomorrow morning, and maybe she can make it up to you and have you join her.

“When did you get in?”

Emily’s heart jumps as she turns to look at the bed. You’re still curled beneath the blankets but your eyes are staring straight at her.

“I’m just getting in,” she breathes out. Emily pulls her button-up and bra off, exchanging them for a large t-shirt. “Did I wake you?”

“No, Sergio did.” You glance over to the cat that’s now made himself comfortable halfway onto your forehead. “Everything at work okay?”

“Yeah, just got unlucky. We caught a case right after lunch.” She tugs her slacks off and settles into bed beside you. “Didn’t make much progress either, but the amount of bodies we kept finding were… a lot.”

You let out a quiet hum. “Make a profile yet?”

Emily shakes her head, rolling over to face you. “No, not yet. We’re missing something but we just haven’t found it yet.” She stares at you, hesitating just a bit. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay, Em, it’s work.” 

“It’s not though. This isn’t the first one I’ve missed, and I’m sorry. I know it might feel like I’m not trying but I promise that I am.” She reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you or anything like that.” 

“Emily, I mean it. I know how your job works. I’m not mad at you. Am I a little sad and disappointed? Anyone would be, but I’m not going to hold something like this over you. That’s like if you held a grudge against me every time I lose track of time when I’m working.” You tuck your face into her neck, breathing her in. “Just glad you’re okay.”

She squeezes you tight, letting her body relax. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah? What’d you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet but I’ll figure it out. Maybe…” Emily bites her lip, thinking. “Maybe after the case though?”

“Of course, babe. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You try to hold in your yawn, but Emily can feel it against her skin. 

“Go to bed. I’ll wake you up before I leave tomorrow.”

“Mm, tell me about your case. Not too many details though.”

Emily smiles, letting her eyes close. “You don’t wanna hear about what they did to the bodies and where we found them?”

You shudder. “God, no. Just wanna hear your voice.”

*

“Emily, hey. I’m glad you answered.” You stuff as many shirts as you can into the small luggage, holding your cell phone between your ear and shoulder. “Listen, something’s come up and I’m on my way to the airport.”

Emily ducks into an empty conference room, leaning against the door. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”

“No, that’s not necessary. My mom called me and– it’s nothing. Not anything bad but I just have to help her sort some stuff out.” You zipped the luggage up, doing a quick scan to make sure the windows were shut and Sergio’s water bowl was filled.

“You sure I can’t do anything?” Emily turns to look out the window, unaware that she’s started to bite the nail of her thumb. “We don’t have any pressing cases right now, I can meet you–”

“It’s okay, I promise. Stay.” You set the alarm and lock the door behind you. “Just… it’s my brother. He’s always had a tough time once he finished high school. He’s been doing good, but my mom is worried. I just need to see what’s happening and have it sorted. I should be back in a few days.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m sorry, Em, my mom’s calling. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

Emily sighs when the call disconnects, shoulders slumping. It’s been a good few weeks since your anniversary and things have been getting better, but it just feels like something’s been off. She makes her way back to her desk and opens a new window on her computer. 

This is wrong. You shouldn’t be looking him up. If she wanted you to know about him, she’d have told you by now. It can’t be that bad.

Emily groans, closing the window. 

“What’s wrong, my dark fairy?” Penelope perches herself on the edge of Emily’s desk. “Trouble in paradise? Don’t tell me Y/N’s still mad at you. Haven’t you been taking any of my advice? Groveling, presents, and ravishing her every chance you get?”

“Penelope, please, not so loud.” Emily shakes her head. “It’s not that. She said she had to fly home to handle some stuff that’s come up and she mentioned her brother. I don’t really know much about him and I was gonna…” Emily wiggles her fingers and points to the computer. “But I can’t bring myself to do it. That’s– I shouldn’t do that, right? It’s wrong?”

“Oh-ho-ho. The good ol’ dilemma of wanting to find out what’s going on vs. not betraying someone’s trust.” Penelope leans in, lowering her voice. “As a hacker, I say do it. As a friend…”

“As a friend, don’t?” 

Penelope darts her eyes to the computer. “I’d still do it, especially if I think it’s for someone’s safety or well-being!”

“Pen!” Emily drops her face into her hands. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Want me to?” 

Emily thinks about it for a few minutes, worrying what your reaction might be. “Just… If you do it and you don’t find anything pressing, don’t tell me that you did it. But if it’s something bad, then tell me. I need to know if I need to be there too.” 

“You got it, goth queen.”

*

“Happy birthday, Emily!” You lift Sergio from the floor and press his face against her cheek. “Welcome home. I hope you’re ready to celebrate.”

Emily smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Sergio’s head. “If that means relaxing on the couch with my two favorites, then I’m so ready.”

“Not just that but I also have some extra surprises in store for you.” You set Sergio into her arms and give her a quick peck. “I just need to grab them. You go get comfy and I’ll meet you in the living room?”

“It’s a date.” Emily watches you head to her office, shaking her head in disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s where she’s kept them hidden and I didn’t even think to look in there, Serg.” 

Emily places Sergio onto her bed as she goes to change into pajamas. She glances at the box at the top of her closet, wondering if today would be the day. 

“Em? You almost done?”

She lets out a breath, shaking her head. Not today. “Yeah, I’m just about finished. Be there in a sec.” 

Lowering herself down to her knees beside the bed, she brings her face close to the cat and lowers her voice. “Listen here, buddy. I’m going to need you to put in some work and be extra cute and irresistible. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” He only stares and blinks at her. 

“Oh my god, I’m losing it,” Emily mumbles, scooping Sergio back into her arms to head back to the living room. Her eyes widen when she sees the gifts on the small table. “Uh, Y/N? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who paid for a month-long trip for my birthday and didn’t let me chip in. We also flew first class, Em, first class.”

She scoffs, plopping down onto the couch. “That trust fund isn’t gonna use itself, so what better way than to spend it on you?”

You push her shoulder, settling in beside her. “I could say the same for myself, minus the trust fund. Do you wanna open gifts first or later?”

“Mm, later. I just wanna lay here with you.” 

“Any movie suggestions?”

“You pick.” She buries her face into your neck, closing her eyes. “It’s been a long day so nothing too heavy or intense, please.”

“Taxi?”

“Again?” 

“You said I could pick!” You poke at her side, scrolling through movies. “Do you wanna do a TV show instead?”

Emily only mumbles.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for that detailed and clear answer. That narrows down my search immensely. I have a top 3 for selection.”

“Stop being a smartass.”

You laugh, selecting Taxi anyway. The movie starts and as you both sit there, you can feel Emily’s body going lax. “Happy birthday, Emily,” you whisper. 

*

“No, Emily, absolutely not. You can’t drive like this!” You argue, holding her car keys close to your chest. “Hotch said you can take the rest of the week off, so why don’t you?”

Emily only gives you a look. 

“Uhg, I know. Can’t you just, I don’t know, get a ride from someone? I can call JJ and she can swing by?”

“I’m already up later than usual, Y/N. It’s 10. The day’s already started for the team a long time ago.”

You bite your lip, glancing at your computer. You don’t have any pressing deadlines coming up so you could technically take an early day. The real dilemma is getting Emily to agree.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” You straighten your shoulders and clear your throat. “And if you don’t agree, you’re going to have to think of another way to get to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“You let me drive you to work. I can take you now and pick you up later.”

Silence.

You can feel the heat spreading on your cheeks as you wait for Emily to say something, anything. “Em?”

“Nobody drives my Jeep but me.”

“Emily Prentiss, you literally got shot yesterday. If you think for one second I’m going to let you drive with an injury, you are out of your mind.”

She grits her teeth. “Y/N…”

“Emily.” You stare at her head-on. “If you love me as much as you say you do, you’ll let me do this for you.”

She dips her head, closing her eyes. “Fine, you can drive my Jeep but if you get a scratch on her, I’m putting my cold feet on you for a month!” Emily turns around with a huff, going to grab her work bag. 

*

You can’t help but admire the new ring that sits on your finger as you sit at your computer. It’s been two hours since you clocked in but you can’t concentrate. The butterflies in your stomach haven’t gone away since you woke up and Emily smiled at you. Biting your lip, you try and focus on the map in front of you. 

Your phone buzzes on the desk and you sigh. 

Emily ❣️(9:53 AM): Get to work.

You startle, looking around the office and debating on whether you should turn the music down or not. There’s no way she’d have cameras set up without telling you, would she?

You (9:55 AM): I don’t know what you mean ���� Emily ❣️ (9:59 AM): I know you. Now get to work. We can celebrate again when I get home 😜

You can feel the tips of your ears go pink, locking your phone and setting it face down on the desk. Instead of getting back to work, you open a new browsing window instead and immediately search for rings. You’ve yet to find one that would fit Emily, and it’s starting to feel like you’re going to have to make a custom piece. 

Your phone buzzes against the desk, causing you to jump. There’s no way you were getting anything done today. 

*

When you swing the door open to a red-eyed JJ, your stomach drops. The way she’s looking at you is something you’ve never wanted to experience. 

“JJ… don’t.” You shake your head, the ring on your finger feeling so, so heavy.

She takes in a deep breath, her voice shaky. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. She– they said she didn’t make it off the table.”

The only thing you can hear is the music you’ve been playing all day and the sound of your breathing. JJ is speaking to you, hands moving, but it’s like no words are coming out. You can’t process anything she’s saying and you can only stare into her eyes. 

JJ would never lie to you and she would never put you through this if she knew there wasn’t a possibility of Emily surviving. She’s guiding you back inside, her face tight. 

“Y/N?”

You look at her, finally taking her in. The tip of her nose was pink, her ponytail was a mess, and her shirt was rumpled.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m–” You’re at a loss for words, uncertain. 

“I asked if you wanted to stay with me.” JJ grabs onto your hands, her eyes roaming your face. “You don’t have to be alone tonight, or any night. I’m sure Henry would love to have you and Sergio over.” 

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to take care of one more person.” 

“Y/N, it’s okay, really.” JJ glances around, wincing. “I think it would be best. At least for one night? And then we can go from there, okay? If not for you, then for me.”

You sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. You stay right here. I’ll grab you a few things and then we can go, okay?”

As JJ makes her way into the bedroom, her eyes water. This is not how she wanted to find out the two of you got engaged over the weekend. Taking a deep breath, JJ is quick to grab a change of clothes and Sergio. She finds you still sitting on the couch, the music turned off. 

“Come on, let’s head out.” She squeezes your shoulder before handing you Sergio. 

You slowly stand, looking down at the black cat, realizing that he won’t understand why Emily will no longer be coming around. You take in a breath and blink back the tears as you move to turn the alarm on. “Are you sure, JJ? I can stay, really. I’m sure you’d like to be alone too–”

“I want you to come, Y/N. Please. I’d like to keep you close tonight.” JJ frowns, the indecision clear on her face. “I can’t tell you everything yet, but once things are settled, I promise I will. I just need to make sure you’re safe.”

The drive to JJ’s is a blur. It felt like it went by in the blink of an eye but at the same time, it felt like hours. As you both make your way to the front door, it feels like you’ve been awake for hours. Wasn’t it just this morning that you were making plans with Emily for Friday? You have a dentist appointment tomorrow, your mom wanted you to call her back, and there’s a deadline coming up– 

Your head throbs.

JJ pushes the door open, the lights off and the house is silent. “Well, looks like everyone’s asleep. Here.” She guides you to the guest room you frequented every girl’s night, not bothering to turn the light on. 

As you sit, you look at her once more. “JJ…”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll figure things out, okay? And if you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

All you can do is nod as you lay down, tugging the blanket over you. “This is real, isn’t it, JJ?”

She pauses at the doorway. “Yeah, Y/N, it’s real.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “And she’s not coming back.”

“No,” she whispers.

You can feel the adrenaline and nerves finally hit, and somehow your eyes close.

* 

“I don’t know how that makes me feel! Isn’t that why I’m here?” You raise your eyes to Dr. Crane, the psychologist that JJ has been forcing you to go to. “I told you from the start that I didn’t think that this would help.”

Dr. Crane leans forward, setting her notebook aside. “Y/N, in the past two months, do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you?”

You throw your hands up, defeated. “Sure, why not?”

“You insist that being here wouldn’t help you but you come to every appointment. That’s three times a week, by the way. You start the session calmly, and as the questions progress, so does your anger.” She taps her desk with her pen. “Not only that, but you’ve been unable to say Emily’s name once in any session, you refuse to answer questions you don’t like the answer to, and you frequently try to change the subject when I ask about your engagement.”

You wince, glancing at the ring on your finger. “Not much to talk about. It didn’t last very long.” 

Oh, that one hurt. 

“Look, people grieve differently, right? This is how I’m doing it.” 

“And do you think that’s healthy? Being unable to say a name? Wearing a ring that you seem to resent whenever you talk about it?” You can feel yourself clenching your jaw as you look at your hands. “Are we finished for today?” You don’t wait for an answer, but stand and grab your things. 

“Y/N, a loss is something so many people experience but very little know how to process. If you continue this way, how long do you think you’ll last before you’re forced to confront it?”

You say nothing as you storm out of the office, the frustration building. JJ stands from the waiting room, a frown on her face as she sees your haste to leave. She looks back toward the office before following you with a sigh. 

“Y/N, you said you’d try–”

“This is me trying, JJ! I’m just– I’m not ready.” You stand on the sidewalk, staring at her. “I’m not ready to accept she’s gone. Every day I wake up, thinking that I had a bad dream. I look down at my finger and I see this ring and I wonder how much longer it’ll be until I can take it off without feeling like I’m trying to forget her.” 

JJ shakes her head, hand reaching for you. “We can find you another psychologist if you want. If you think Dr. Crane isn’t helping, then we can–”

You shake your head, taking a few steps back. “No, I know. I just– I need to be alone for a little while, okay? You’ve done a lot for me these past few weeks, JJ, and I appreciate that but I just need to think.”

“Let me drop you off, then. Where are you going?” 

“No, it’s fine. I can walk. Please, JJ. Just let me be alone for a little while. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll call you?” You take a few more steps back before turning away.

“Y/N! You call me if you need a ride, okay?” 

You throw your hand up in acknowledgment as you briskly walk away from JJ, your head pounding. 

*

They’re everywhere. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, it’s like they follow you all day long. You know it’s not true, but that’s what it feels like. Just how many people actually drive Jeeps? Maybe you’ll look at some data later.

It’s like the car itself was following you, trying to force you to acknowledge it. None of them are her’s though. That one’s sitting in the parking garage, untouched. Over the past few months, you’ve thought about selling it but can’t bring yourself to actually do it. It’s not like you drive it, but it’s just one more thing to hold onto. 

You tap at your keyboard, the posting halfway finished. This is the fourth time you’ve tried to sell this Jeep but every time, something stops you. The first time, the wifi disconnected. The second time, Sergio jumped onto the desk and stepped onto the keyboard which caused the window to close. The third time, you kept getting interrupted by phone calls from work so you just gave up. But now? Now you don’t think you should sell it at all.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You buckle your seatbelt before looking at Emily.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She pulls away from the curb, the engine rumbling as she made her way to the highway.

“Why’d you get a Jeep?” 

Emily grins. “What’s wrong with my Jeep?”

“Nothing! Just… it’s not what I would expect from someone who works for the FBI. I feel like you’d have something more, I don’t know, practical? Discrete?” 

“How much more discrete could this be? It’s all black, even the rims!” 

“Yeah, but I imagined you having like an SUV or something. All blacked out, reinforced, or bullet-proof, you know? Not a Jeep.”

“How do you know it’s not reinforced or bullet-proof?” Emily speeds up now that she’s on the highway. “Besides, if I ever had to, I could go off-road in this baby. Wanna see?” She jerks the steering wheel slightly, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Emily, don’t you dare! If we’re late to our reservation again–”

“Baby, on our Friday night? I would never.”

You sigh, turning your computer off. You can try again tomorrow. 

*

“Do you think I should do it, JJ?” You gaze out of her car window, recognizing her neighborhood. “Or is it too soon?”

JJ takes in a deep breath. “I– I think you should do it if you think you’re ready. And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

“I should try though, shouldn’t I?” You begin to twist the ring on your finger, hesitant. “It hasn’t been that long but it feels like it’s been years. I feel like I’ve been living without her for so long now, but…”

“Y/N, if you want to try, you can. And if you change your mind, you can always cancel or leave. Whoever it is that you’re thinking of is hopefully a good person and can understand where you’re coming from.” JJ pulls into her driveway and turns her car off. “Look, it can be a group outing if you want. No expectations.”

You take in a deep breath, chin dropping to your chest. “My coworker. She’s been… very persistent. She knows but I can’t tell if she’s genuine or if she’s just trying to–”

“Get into your pants?” 

You huff. “Yeah.”

JJ nods, getting out of the car. You follow her up through the front door, the sound of the TV on and the washing machine running. 

“Then we do a group outing. You can see for yourself and we can tell you if anything feels off, okay? Or if you want, we can ask Penelope to do a quick check on her beforehand.” 

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

*

JJ (7:51 PM): You sure you don’t want one of us to pick you up instead? You (7:53 PM):  It’s a little too late to be asking me, JJ. She’s supposed to be here at 8. JJ (7:54 PM): And if she’s as understanding as she says she is, she wouldn’t mind.

You sigh, shaking your head. The windows light up from a car’s headlights and you make your way to the door. 

As you lock the door behind you, your eyes find your coworker, Lucy, standing at the passenger door. As you approach, she opens the door.

“Hi.” 

“Hello. You look beautiful.” She tilts her head. “Shall we?”

“Thank you. You, too.” You slide into her car and it feels all wrong. The height of the car, the way you fit in the seat, the windows, even the smell. You shake your head. 

I have to try. I just want a good night out, whether that’s with Lucy or with my friends.

Letting out a breath, you try to relax in your seat as Lucy maneuvers her way through the city. Your eyes are playing tricks on you because you keep thinking that you see Jeeps in every parking lot you pass. You’re grateful when you arrive at the sports bar.

Once you’re settled in and made introductions, you find yourself sandwiched between Lucy and JJ in the booth. Thankfully JJ is on the inside, and you instinctively sit closer to her. It’s an easy night thanks to the group and you’re able to avoid any awkward conversations with Lucy because of them. 

JJ leans in close, lowering her voice. “Doing okay?”

You nod, patting her thigh. “Yes, thank you.”

Lucy stands from the booth, shooting you a smile. “Would you like a refill?”

You didn’t even realize you had finished your drink. “Sure, yes, that’d be great. A whiskey sour, please?”

“You got it.” She makes her way to the bar, disappearing.

“Thoughts?” You murmur, fingers tracing the rim of your glass.

Penelope rests her chin in her palm. “She’s not bad, my sweet, but there’s no sparks if that’s what you’re asking. Something feels a little off too, but I can’t put my finger on it.” 

“She’s nice, Y/N, just…” JJ pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. “It just doesn’t feel right yet.”

*

It’s 2AM and Lucy insisted on walking you up to your door. She’d gotten tickets for a concert and you figured you could try being with just her without a group.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You rub the house key in your hand, trying to maintain a distance. Although her company is nice, you don’t think you could handle anything physical with her. 

“Of course.” She pauses, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I know it’s late but–”

“Actually, Lucy–”

“Ah.” She nods her head, taking a small step back. “Sorry, too forward? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I know, so cliche, but it’s true. I thought I was ready to try again but I don’t think I am.” You try to smile, but it falls. “Everything feels so wrong right now. Not just you but just… every part of my life. I thought that if I put myself out there, it might be what I needed to get things going but, as you can see, it’s not working.”

“I figured.” Lucy pats your shoulder, giving you a small smile. “I didn’t think you’d say yes in the first place, but you did, so I think I ignored all the signs too. I’m really sorry, Y/N. If you ever want to talk, you can text or call me anytime, okay?”

“Okay. And I’m really sorry, Lucy.”

“Don’t apologize. I knew what I was doing, too. I’ll see you later.” 

You turn away and let yourself in, leaning against the door. Your chest feels so heavy and you wonder how long you’ll continue to feel this way. All you want is for things to go back to the way they were.

[thotsforvillainrights]

Shigaraki smut headcanons? Sorry if you've already done this, I just love crusty boi. (　＾ω＾)

(You're fine, Anon! It's one of those cases where it FEELS like it's been done but probably hasn't lol. I went and checked the new and old masterlist and couldn't find anything. Now's my chance to add it to the collection ^_^)

~Shigaraki Smut Headcanons~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-Really would like to say he's a freak in bed but I don't think he's all that wild...at least not at first. I feel like he has a lot of love to give when he opens himself up for it. There's not really much lust between the two of you at first (not on his end at least). His walls are up really high and for a while he starts to feel really guilty about developing feelings for you. He's not sure if he deserves to have love given to him, or to give love to others. All his life he's been focused on what he hates and not enough on what he could love. When you come along, he's filled with anger at the fact you were able to get to him so easily.

-He can't deny any longer that he has feelings for you. When you try to reciprocate these feelings then it becomes complex. He's not letting you in as easily. He prays at night that you give up on him, that you leave for your own good. At the same time he wants to open himself up to you but he just doesn't know how. When he finally decides to let himself go and feel for once in his life, it becomes likely the most beautiful and simultaneously terrifying experience he's had. When you say you love him, it's invigorating. When you touch him...touch his skin of all people, he feels special. He feels confused all at the same time. Why would you chose him?

-He's scared at first to talk about you, to feel pride out loud. he's scared he'll somehow jinx things and that he'll wind up hurting or even worse is that he'll wind up hurting you instead. It's not just the mental hurt he's worried about either. It's the pysical hurt and the crushing idea that he might slip up and you'll be gone forever. Even with gloves as a precaution, he's still not up to the idea of touching you. Why should he when he doesn't deserve to touch you anyway? A demon with an angel like you? What a cruel and disgusting joke. Don't you know if he were to mess up then you'd be nothing more than a pile of ash and memories? You don't care. You want his touch, his hugs and kisses. And just like always, he's weak to deny you. He gives up and cautiously inches into the next phase of your relationship.

-When the sex finally comes into play, he feels a bit overwhelmed. Understandably you should come to expect him not lasting very long for the first few times. Can you blame him? You're something akin to a sinful pool of gold and he's strong enough to hold back. He's focusing all his energy on making you feel good, keeping a handle on his quirk, and trying not to hurt you all at the same time. Your sex brings fireworks out. His vision gets spotty once before and leave him wondering if he might pass out. He's breathless, his skin damp with sweat and his legs weak...shaking from your activities together. He's quiet but you can still hear him making sound just for you. It's all for you.

-Because he won't focus on his own pleasure, you end up taking the reigns in that department. It takes some time for him to settle down and accept that you actually WANT to make him feel good instead. Of course you do, why wouldn't you want to return the favor? He can't grasp the concept at first. That's okay, he didn't need to think too hard. Just lay back and let you handle it yes?

-His drive doesn't seem to be that high, nor too low. If anything, he's a perfect in-between, matching your pace perfectly. He's moldable like clay for you. He'll fold and bend at your will but he also remains understanding of his own needs and preferences as well. I think maybe later on in the relationship you can see him getting a little rougher in bed. Of course at your request, he learns the ins and outs of it. Shigaraki after gaining a power-up shows a considerable difference in the ways he goes about things but that's a story for a different time.

[byeoltoyuki]

✧memories of us ✧ love again

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous

You were covered in paint. Some splashes on your cheeks, a lot on your white, long t-shirt, some on your hands. The whole room was a mess, your kind of mess, a mess that usually led to a good result. Your muse decided to visit you in the middle of the night probably to save you from your own restless mind.

For the past few days, your thoughts were plagued by Jisung and the sweet kiss that happened after the gathering. Just a kiss but enough to set your whole body on fire. You couldn’t think about anything else. Just the kiss and Jisung’s warmth and his arms around you. Every time you laid awake in your bed, your mind would replay the moment, wishing for it to happen again. And it would be so easy, all you had to do was grab your phone and text him; knowing Jisung he would have answered and probably came to your place.

But you did none of that. Jisung was a busy man, especially with the upcoming show; they had to rehearse every single day, making sure it would be perfect. You understood it but it didn’t make things easier for you.

So you painted.

Lost in your own little world, you paid no attention to your surroundings; you didn’t know what time of the night or day it was and you didn’t notice how shyly the sun rose. You didn’t pay any attention to your phone either, not that you expected a call or anything.

Until your doorbell rang. Once, twice. The sound startled you, making you almost drop all the paint on the floor. You blinked confused, slowly coming back from your bubble and only to realize that it was no longer the middle of the night judging by how bright it was outside.

At the third bell, you hurried to your door before the person behind it got too impatient.

“Finally!” Jisung screamed too loudly the moment you opened the door. He barely let you time to recover from the shock of seeing him as he stepped inside and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them. “Where the hell were you?”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean ‘where was I’?”

Jisung paused and finally noticed all the paint on you, realization dawned on him. “Were you painting the whole night?”

You slapped his hands playfully to free yourself. You closed the door behind you, not needing an audience. “Yes. I couldn’t sleep.”

Jisung nodded. “Then, why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“My phone?” You tried to remember where you had left it. You had no use for it while painting, therefore you didn’t bring it with you.

Jisung groaned in frustration and shook his head at you. “Yes, your phone. You know the thing you use to message or call someone?”

Seeing Jisung so bitchy was not a usual sight, in fact, you could barely remember the last time you saw him in this state. Something bothered him and made him snappy. Slowly you approached him and observed him for a moment, trying to find out what was wrong. “What are you doing here, Ji?”

Jisung averted his eyes from your face and clenched his fists. “I needed a break. Minho is a tyrant.”

Your mouth twitched at his blatant lie. At least there was one thing that didn’t change about him; whenever he lied, he would avoid your eyes because he knew you would see through him. You took one last step towards him, leaving almost no space between your bodies. You left him no choice but be completely aware of your presence, of your body lightly brushing his. You flicked his nose and chuckled. “And the real reason?”

A faint blush spread on his face, but despite his embarrassment, his eyes locked with yours. “Fine. I was dying to see you. I’ve been trying to reach you for a while, but you weren’t answering, so I panicked. I thought maybe-“ He stopped to inhale sharply, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

At his confession, butterflies erupted wildly in your stomach. It comforted you to hear just how affected he was with your situation. It warmed your heart to know that he wanted to see you just as badly as you did. You gently cupped his face and couldn’t stop yourself from pecking his lips.

“I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about our kiss.” You admitted, confidently. There was no use hiding how you felt anymore. There was no use running away.

Jisung opened his mouth, but no words left it. He tried again and again and still nothing. You tried to muffle your giggles in return but how could you when he looked so adorable? You pecked his lips again and every time he tried to speak you did it again.

“Angel.” Jisung managed with a fond and exasperated sigh.

“Hmm?” You hummed, smiling fondly at him.

“You’re-“ You kissed him again. “Not mak-“ And again. “Bloody hell.” And with this last attempt, Jisung completely snapped. His mouth crashed down on yours, one hand on your hips, he pulled you flush against him. He cupped the back of your neck and deepened the kiss, pouring all his feelings, his need into the kiss and you kissed him back as eagerly, moaning softly into the kiss. The kiss was far from sweet and gentle and you couldn’t care less. You didn’t need nice, not when you were craving him so badly. When you felt like your life depended on him. And his lips.

“Please, tell me I’m not the only one needing it.” Jisung begged, breathless against your lips. “Tell me I’m not the only one who want to try again.” By the sound of his shaky voice, you could tell how desperate Jisung was. He was ready for everything if only it meant you would give him a second chance. A chance to make it right.

“If you want me to get on my knees and beg, I would.” He continued, his eyes filled with so much fire and resolution, you almost melted at the spot.

You kissed him softly. “As much as I like the image of you on your knees, you don’t need to. I want us to try again.”

Jisung exhaled loudly, his heart ready to burst out of his chest. “Thank god.”

[praetorqueenreyna]

Maiko 32

(send me a pair and a number and I'll write a drabble)

32. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

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

They slept together not long after Zuko had been rescued from Ba Sing Se and returned home. Later, Mai would loftily tell Ty Lee that it was because they understood each other in a mature way, that they didn’t need a lot of time before they knew it was right. The truth was, they were both young and lonely, touch-starved and stewing in lascivious hormones. They had barely been able to keep their hands to themselves on the ship ride back to the Fire Nation. Once they had access to plush beds and little supervision, what little self-control they had evaporated.

Afterwards, Mai traced aimless patterns on Zuko’s bare back. He was laying on his stomach, head rested on his folded arms, eyes half-closed, watching her. She drew her pointed fingernail across his skin, light enough not to leave a mark. Up across his shoulders, skirting the claw marks she had dug into his flesh during the act, when she hadn’t been so gentle. 

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.

I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.

“Nothing,” she answered. 

He smiled sleepily and pulled her down to him for a kiss.

[fbfh]

No bc Billy is such a fucking caring protective boyfriend. Once he decides you're - for all intents and purposes - part of his pack, he will always protect you. The party, the other teens, even Hopper and Joyce (along with Max and Susan obviously) are all part of his little circle of people that he will never let anything bad happen to. Any time you're having a problem, he can tell. You've just started going straight to Billy when you have a problem because he's so quick to tell when something is wrong. You know why he's so good at picking up on miniscule changes in someone's mood and behavior, and it breaks you heart. But now, like so many other traits and defense mechanisms he's developed, he's able to use them for good, to protect you and your friends. It's not perfect, but it's a huge improvement.

One time you ran up to him, he knew something was wrong just by the way you were walking before he even saw your face, and started telling him everything, trying to hold yourself together. Whether the guys you had bumped into made fun of you or just made you uncomfortable, you know Billy won't let it slide.

"I was just trying to walk my dog, and they won't leave me alone, and-"

He puts a hand on your shoulder, and you know he has this under control.

"Those guys over there?" He asks, voice low and calculated. You nod.

"Stay here." He states, giving your dog an appreciative scratch on the head for helping to look after you. He resolves the issue out of earshot and out of your sight. You don't know the details, but the next time you see those guys, they turn and practically run the other way. When you thank him for taking such good care of you, keeping you safe, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"'Course. I always will."

Every day that you or one of the kids or even his friends feel safe enough to come and talk to him when you're feeling vulnerable, every day someone comes to him to feel safe is another day he knows he beat the statistics, broke out of the cycle. It's more and more proof that he did it, and he can keep doing it, for you guys and for himself.

[miscellaneoussmp]

Bagi lore got my brain going brrr. Anyways, here's a brother and a sister being brought home after a trip to the hospital (cw/tw: minor derealization)

As soon as she opened her eyes, she immediately closed them again. The room was just so bright. The room was pure, blinding white. She heard somebody talking just outside the room. The voice was muffled, so she couldn't make out a single word. When she tried to open her eyes again, a whine came from her throat. Her whole body felt sore as she lay in this hospital bed. Suddenly, there was a soft hand in her hair and a soft voice shushing her. She looked over to where the hand came from. There was a woman she recognized as her mother. The back of her head screamed that she's never seen this woman's face before. She finally noticed her brother, also laid in a hospital bed. This situation seemed oddly familiar. Something in the back of her mind is screaming at her. She can't make out the words, though, like she's hearing the screams through cotton.

Why are they both here? What happened? Her throat hurts, and that's the only way she knew she had spoken aloud. Her brother asked the same questions. He looked a bit less dazed. Had he been awake before her? Their mother looked sad, after a moment too long, and explained what had happened. While the two were exploring the family's new home on the island, the two had climbed into a tree and fell out of it hard. Is that why she feels so sore? They've must have been passed out for days, there's ivs in both siblings arms. Maybe that's why she finds this room oddly familiar. She's been here for days. It doesn't explain why her mind is so intent on saying this is all wrong.

Their mother softly hums and patiently explaining things that the siblings should know about themselves and their lives. Their mother says she thinks they hit their heads harder than the doctor says. She looks down at her hospital bracelet on the arm without the iv. It's labeled #0001. Her brother does the same with his bracelet. It's labeled #0010. No names to be seen. A man comes into the room. Her father, the front of her mind, supplies. The muffled part of her brain is screaming again about not knowing him. Their father is followed by a white bear. She feels anxiety and fear jolt up her spine. Their father seems happy? relieved? and explains that the twins are ready to go home, according to the bear. The white bear is a liar. She thinks she understands through the muffle. With that, the nurses (she assumes; they're wearing blank masks) take out the ivs. Their mother is helping her brother stand up, holding his hand while their dad picks her up.

Their parents seem familiar with the white halls. Too familiar, she barely hears through the cotton. The walk about the family house seems too long and not long enough at the same time. After a bit, their father let's her walk while holding her hand. She hates the feeling of the hospital gown against her skin. Her brother seems to agree as he keeps messing with it. When they get home, finally, the back of her mind is screaming once again. She thinks she's grateful for the cotton that muffles it. Their parents lead them upstairs, and both siblings note their surroundings as they do so. Their bedroom is split down the middle, as it always has been. Pink on one side, hers. Red on the other, his. Their parents leave them, going back downstairs. She goes to sit on her bed, too sore to stand up anymore. Her brother goes to the bookshelves, reading along the spines. The room seems almost too clean, too perfect. It's still their room. Maybe their parents cleaned while they were in the hospital. No, no, no, no, her hindbrain is screaming again. She wants it to stop. This is better than before. Shut up, shut up, shut up, she scolded her own mind. She didn't know what before even meant.

[bobmckenzie]

I FINISHED ALL THE LOUIS EPISODES OF TRGB

this last episode was SO FREAKING CUTE he was babysitting his nephew and was so caring and adorable and AUGGHGHGHG I MISS HIM ALREADY...

[tacitusauxilium]

Since yesterday, the text messages between any (and all) members of the Shadow Operatives have gone quiet. Radio silence for hours... and Fuuka knew the reasoning why. She eyed the calendar by her door, always writing down whenever the members met or when someone was coming over to see her.

However, with 10/4 being circled in a bright red marker, Fuuka couldn't stop staring and knew full well what it meant: a week full of nightmares, tears, and having to pinch herself to make sure her mind was waking up in reality.

Fuuka had come to terms, on her own, that while it wasn't her fault Shinjiro protected her from letting Takaya know of her being the navigator, it ate away at her every year the day popped up. Even with him being alive and doing whatever he loved, far from the other members of the Shadow Ops, Fuuka never kept herself in contact with Shinjiro unless it was work related or a quick answer for a question. That's all she had to think--this is a friendship.

Then again, how do you get a conversation started with the one who took the heat for you? And how do you say I'm sorry when every time you look at him, you want to sob uncontrollably--and you love the man so much that you can't afford to give him any more problems. And the grief the last 14 years have caused for Fuuka was enough to still grow around it while it stayed dormant in her chest and mind. Dating was never an option--she feared she would be the problem and feared she'd put anyone in danger. Look at how she and her friends got captured.

"...I hope this month flies by like the last month." She places her hands to her chest, taking a deep breath in and out, and walks towards her bedroom after locking the door. Fuuka knew that the grief has helped her become a bit soft but hard around the corners. She still bites off more than she can chew, but still finishes her meal nonetheless. Fuuka lays on the bed and sighs heavily. Her phone next to her as she knew better than to hope for any text messages to go through.

Fuuka looked over at the picture of all of them at the festival--the only photo where everyone was alive and well. Alive. And well. Fuuka bit her bottom lip and covered her eyes with her arms. This was going to be a long and slow month--and she wished she could sleep the whole month away to ease the pain her heart gave her when she saw Mitsuru, Akihiko, Ken, and Shinjiro.

Why the hell did she have to love the damn man? And why didn't she keep in contact with the man who saved her life?

[woundedheartwithin]

Some Days

Yakuza | Majima Goro & Nishida | depictions of mental illness | drabble

———

Some days are better than others.

It’s true for most people, he knows, but… maybe not like this.

Because some days, he’s fine. Some days, he’s even happy.

But some days…

Some days, he can’t make his brain be quiet.

Some days, his thoughts race, ramming against the inside of his skull like train cars that have jumped from their tracks, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t right them again.

Some days his heart pounds in his chest, his skin prickling, millions of tiny needles pushing underneath, sinking into the muscle, into the bone, burrowing deep until it’s impossible to pluck them out.

Some days, he feels like he’s burning alive from the inside out, like he’s so cold it creates a paradox, making him feel like he’s on fire, like he’s melting and freezing at the same time, like he’s standing barefoot on a frozen lake in the blazing sun, out in the vacuum of space, deep within the earth, crushed and pulled apart and burned and chilled and this and that andeverythinginbetweenandhecan’tmakeitSTOP—

Just… stop.

Please.

His mind blanks.

He can’t tell if that’s worse.

The sudden silence sends him reeling. The void— immeasurable, enveloping, suffocating. He feels himself tumble gracelessly through it.

Some days, he feels nothing.

Nothing.

Maybe that’s better.

Maybe not.

Some days, he stares at the walls. Stars dance in his vision as it goes in and out of focus. Unable to hold onto a single thought for more than an instant. There and gone like lightning on a clear day. He’s never sure if it existed to begin with.

Unawareness takes him, holds him like a lover, misty and soft, and he submits to it, slips into it, into the alluring danger of letting down his guard, of releasing his hold on reality, of ignoring every survival instinct that tells him to fight against it. Maybe this time it will take him. Maybe this time… maybe…

The couch shifts.

Majima drags himself to the surface again, forcing himself to focus, to bring himself back into the present. He looks over, his mouth falling open, ready to tell the intruder to piss off, but Nishida just raises a hand and sits back into the cushions next to him.

He says nothing, and for that, Majima is grateful.

Some days, he just needs to feel like he’s not alone.

[crossguildcatgirl]

i completely fucking forgot about shock.wave

[blindedmewithscience]

Begin #S108

Everything had gone swimmingly, as always. At the pre-discussed pickup point at the selected late-night time, Scully found their subject sleeping peacefully. They scooped the woman up into their car with ease and brought her to the lab.

While she slept, Scully ran through all their standard procedural steps. They collected all the DNA samples they needed as their control samples, they set her up with a gown and instructions on how to use the lab’s sanitizing shower system. Any cross contamination could be disastrous, they explained in the note, think Cronenberg's The Fly. It was a gross exaggeration, but helped illustrate the importance to their subjects.

Once Scully had prepped their subject for when she awoke, they set to work on their end of the bargain. In another locked cabinet lay their special solutions. To call them magic potions felt too whimsical, to call them mere DNA samples wasn’t descriptive enough. They were somewhere in between and were not administered orally like a potion tended to be. Atop a tray, Scully laid out several syringes, a bottle of saline solution to use as a matrix, and a bottle corresponding to each of the pre-discussed creatures. They withdrew some saline into each syringe and then varying amounts of each of the solutions. Each syringe was neatly laid in place in front of the corresponding bottle, and Scully notated the quantities of each in their notebook.

About as they were finishing up, they heard the telltale signs of the sedative wearing off.

“Good morning dear~! If you’ll just follow the instructions to your left, we can begin immediately.”

The woman was groggy, but managed to find the instructions and trudge off to the shower. The water on her face helped shake the sleepiness away and once she was toweled off and clothed in her patient’s gown, she was back to her usual overexcited self, much to Scully’s annoyance.

With how quickly she popped up behind Scully to peek over their shoulder, they were glad they’d already finished prepping everything, otherwise they might’ve made an error as they were jostled, “Ooooooooh!!! Are those it! They’re so small! Do you really think that will do it?? Oh! What if instead of a unicorn horn you went with a-”

“Sit. Down. Please.” A bit more terse than they’d intended, they closed their eyes and took a breath to calm their nerves, “If you’ll just lay back on the table, we can get started. I do have some restraints, they’re to protect the both of us, sometimes the initial shock to your system may be a bit more than you are prepared for. We don’t want you hurting yourself. I also want to administer some painkillers preemptively, the changes occur on a cellular level and depending on the size of the change, can vary between the pain of getting a tattoo to the pain of having a limb sawn off. Or... A chest-burster erupting through your ribcage.”

Scully didn’t always love having to describe things in Hollywood terms, but again, making sure the meaning of their words was being completely understood was the most important thing. As they watched the woman blanch a bit and nod in agreement, they knew it had been effective.

Scully strapped on their gloves and laid out a sheet over the table to provide something a bit more comfortable than the cold steel to lay on. Humans were so fussy about the cold metal against their bare skin. After allowing their subject to lay down, they tightened the padded straps around her ankles first, looking up to her for confirmation that it wasn’t too tight before moving on to her wrists, then one around her middle, and finally around her forehead. Though not before slipping a small pillow under her head though, they weren’t a monster.

“Comfortable?” Even though they didn’t think this would be a success and didn’t intend to put much effort into ensuring its success, they still followed their usual guidelines.

“It’s.. Okay I guess. Not really but it doesn’t like.. Hurt or anything.” 

Scully nodded as they took an alcohol swab to her arm, “Unfortunately these were never built for real comfort. I do my best. Now I want you to relax as much as possible, we’ll start with the pain killers, then after they’ve had a few minutes to set in, I’ll begin with the procedure.”

“So I’m gonna get my-” She winced as Scully pressed a needle into the vein, “Ow- My wings, right? How’s that gonna.. Work.. With my back on the table..?”

Scully watched her expression impassively as they spoke, “Again, I can’t make any promises as to how the traits will take effect. If you start to show signs of sprouting wings, I will adjust the restraints as needed, or I may have to turn onto your stomach. The changes could have a rapid onset, but they could also take days. While it may mean longer discomfort, for your sake, you should hope it is the latter. Rapid changes tend to go... Poorly.”

“Wha... What does.. Poorly mean..?” Already her eyes were half lidded, Scully had used some very strong drugs.

Without answering her, they picked up the first syringe in front of the swan bottle and moved to press it into the muscles just behind her shoulders. The angle was a bit awkward but they were used to working around it by now. These syringes had a wider gauge and by the small wince of pain they caught out the corner of their eye, they hadn’t waited quite long enough, “Sorry about that.”

The spent syringe went into their sharps disposal box and they sat down on a rolling stool with their notebook at the ready as they watched for any immediate effects while they noted down the time and a few other details.

It was not long before they noticed her fists clench and strain against their bindings. Must be a painful one, they thought to themself. It looked as though this one may be rapid, unfortunate for their subject, fortunate for them.

The magic always worked in mysterious ways. Scully had many times considered running a study to see if there was any correlation between mundane species and the strength of the reactions, or perhaps the reactions and how far back in their family tree the slightest bit of magic could be found. Unfortunately they knew there was no way to get the funding for that, the magical community wouldn’t see enough use for it, and they couldn’t ask their usual mundane sources. Not to mention the sample size and the risks of side effects that would expose the magical side of their work. No. Never. Their current work was more important to them.

As they mused about what could never be, they watched their subject closely as she writhed. Her breath hitched and she looked fearfully to Scully, barely able to form the words she gasped out, “My- My arms- Arms- Burning.”

Burning pain, Scully noted down, “Even with what I already gave you?”

“Y-Ye-” She couldn’t even finish the word before screaming as sharp points broke through the skin of her arms, blooming outward from around the injection site. Pin feathers. Scully rose from their stool to stand over her, they could see the same thing happening to her other arm as well. The spines sprouted the length of her arms as the flesh beneath started to reshape itself, building flight muscles while thin skin started to stretch between her shoulders and wrist, quickly becoming covered with pin feathers as well.

Really this had been about what Scully expected, aside from the speed. Majority of the bird people in their world didn’t have wings on their backs like an angel would, they had arm wings. Humans and their delusions of angelic grandeur... They’d brought it up as one of the concerns of course, but it had been waved off with all the confidence of a white woman who was sure that was just something that happened to other people. It was probably less painful than it would have been to have entirely new limbs burst forth from her back in a bloody mess, but they kept that opinion to themself as they wrote their detailed notes.

The magically accelerated process slowed after about thirty agonizing minutes. Her arms- now arm wings, were covered mostly in the sheathed pin feathers, though a few had shed their sheath to reveal fluffy white down. Hey, at least it was the desired color. 

The subject panted and squirmed uncomfortably on the table, already exhausted. Her throat was raw from screaming and she was drenched in sweat. She cracked open an eye, blurry with pained tears and finally saw what had come of the first needle. In an instant she found her voice again, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME! THIS ISN’T WHAT I FUCKING WANTED!”

Scully was used to this reaction and sat there unflinchingly as the words were hurled at them, “You acknowledged the risks. This was one of the ones I called out specifically.”

“I’LL HAVE YOUR FUCKING JOB FOR THIS. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING NOW! NOBODY’S GOING TO HIRE ME LIKE THIS!” 

“You’ll find plenty of bird people more than capable of holding down jobs. I have a couple who work in my lab, even. You simply need time to learn how to use your limbs once the feathers finish growing in. As with any procedure, there is a recovery period.” Scully replied calmly, though their voice was approaching something without any emotion to it at all.

“NO. UNDO THIS. RIGHT NOW. I’M GOING TO TELL EVERYONE YOU’RE A FRAUD. A HACK. A. A. MONSTER.”

Scully ignored these barbs as they finished their notes, speaking them aloud, “Subject is showing signs of aggression. Possibly another new trait of the swan genetics.”

“WHAT? FUCK YOU. I’M MAD BECAUSE YOU RUINED MY ALREADY FUCKING RUINED LIFE. FIX IT!!!!”

Scully sighed and placed their notepad aside while another hand reached for the deer syringe, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. As I said before, any changes are permanent. You’ve been altered on a genetic level.” A pause, the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across their face, “You’re right though, your life was already ruined. You were alone. Nobody to miss you. Nobody to look for you. That one little paper you signed, the one that required a drop of blood? It will keep you from discussing any of this with anyone, but if this is the attitude you’re going to have, then I do have other ways to keep you from sharing anything you shouldn’t.”

“Wait- Wait no stop! What are you doing! I don’t want any more! You’re going to make it worse! STOP!!!! STOP!!!!!!!” 

Her cries fell on deaf ears as Scully pressed this needle into her thigh. This one also resulted in rapid changes, though it was clearly far less painful than the first. Most of the struggles seemed to be borne from anger and frustration more than pain. To Scully’s credit, this one even worked as intended, the changes slowed once she had perfect faun legs that would make any ren faire goer envious.

Unfortunately that success didn’t do anything to quell her anger and as soon as she’d caught her breath again, it was back to the same hateful words as before.

At that point Scully decided she had nothing worthwhile to say and tuned her out. There was no more checking in to make sure she was comfortable, just quiet note taking before they moved to the cat syringe. Scully gave it a disdainful glower before injecting it. Part of them spitefully hoped it wouldn’t work.

It did. Mostly. The soft little deer tail that had started to form ended up lengthening, the brown fur growing out into a white-brown two-toned fur that might’ve been appreciated by anyone else. Really, aside from the customer dissatisfaction, this had been one of their most successful introductions of multiple genetics up to this point. A thought that briefly crossed their mind right before the first problem arose. 

The subject’s face had started to shift, something almost akin to a beak forming, but it was too wide for a swan, likely the facial features of a deer also trying to present. Her teeth were changing too, canines lengthening into proper feline fangs, while the hard cartilaginous “teeth” of a swan also rowed the edge of her mouth and tongue. Soon her entire mouth region was a twisted mess of far too many rows of varying kinds of teeth.

Sharp points pushed forth from her skull next, antlers as promised, Scully had used caribou to make the outcome more likely. New ears started to sprout from her head as Scully noted additional pin feathers migrating upward. With some amusement, they realized the developing ears were that of a deer, not a cat. What a shame, another thing for her to scream at them about.

With that, it seemed that all the rapid changes had occurred. Though by now they knew to expect additional development over the coming days.

Their subject moved her mouth, trying to feel out broken words through an unfamiliar instrument. It took some difficulty but she eventually managed to wheeze out “...Lea...Se... K.... Ll.. Ee..”

A plea Scully was all too familiar with after this many trials, it was easy to decipher. They smiled sweetly and gave the woman a pat on her prickly cheek, “Now now, dear. Don’t you want to see where this goes? I certainly do. Get some rest now, you’ve been through quite an exhausting journey. I can give you something to help you sleep if you need~”

“Go.... To.... Hhhhhhell.”

Smile unwavering, Scully shrugged, “Suit yourself~! I’ll check in on you in the morning.”

Gathering their notebook, Scully headed for a door, though not the exit. The room was plunged into total darkness as they flipped the switch and closed the door behind them, save for a few blinking red lights throughout the room.

Cameras to monitor changes, of course. Scully pulled up a chair in their monitoring room. At this point it was basically their second bedroom. They observed their subject screaming and thrashing against her restraints for another hour before their eyelids grew too heavy to keep open any longer and they slumped over on the desk asleep.

[aspiringroleplays]

@atimelesslullaby

Sora couldn’t believe he was feeling this, but… he was actually feeling mad. Maybe it was because of that merchant that had set him off before, but when Zelda had explained to him about the “expectations” and “traditions” of this celebration, he was confused. And then irritated.

“But… it’s your birthday,” He argued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is supposed to be about you and what you want. Who cares what they think?”

He got it, he really did. He knew she had a duty to her kingdom and the people, and everyone wanted the chance to see and speak with her (let’s face it, he was no better. He wanted to hang around her too), but didn’t she deserve to have some time to herself? Shouldn’t she have some time to relax, and have fun, and speak with all her friends? Today, of all days, she should have been allowed to do what she really wanted to do. If this was some official holiday or the like, he wouldn’t have interfered, but...

She just… didn’t look like she was having any fun.

His ears alerted him to several people approaching him from behind, clearly intending to seek audience with her as well. He pursed his lips. No good. She’d never be able to get away at this rate.

“Hey,” He lowered his voice. “Make an exception for me.” He extended his gloved hand in clear invitation. “I promise I’ll make it fun. Just for a few minutes.”

He was determined to make her laugh, or at the very least smile a real smile, just once.

Out on the dance floor, he knew everyone’s eyes would be on him because, duh, he was dancing with the guest of honor. He knew no one actually cared about him- but they would definitely notice if he messed up.

‘Just don’t step on her feet,’ He told himself as they went into position. ‘Anything but that!’

So he decided to take just a few minutes to really feel the music and memorize the steps. Make sure that he got it right. He didn’t necessarily remember all the technical names of music, but he at least knew rhythm. So the first few rounds were slow, him occasionally glancing to the couples at the side as he checked his steps. Once he was confident, he relaxed, the easy smile belaying his relief. ‘Okay, I think I got it! Now then-’

In his world, the men always led in the dance. No matter the social status of the two parties involved, if music was involved, the men were expected to set the pace, and the women to keep up. That was an ironclad rule that he had learned. So naturally, he just assumed it was the same here. Mostly out of habit.

If it wasn’t? Well, he supposed he’d learn the hard way later.

He kept in time with the music, swaying and sweeping her about more confidently as he got comfortable. Kairi had always told him she enjoyed being swept around. She loved being lifted and spun and tossed, and Sora had just come to assume it was like that for all girls.

“Hey Zelda, you trust me, right?” He asked innocently, before flashing her a mischievous grin. “I’m gonna add a few things.”

But it was probably a good idea to at least warn her ahead of time. Kind of helped when the dance partner was at least cooperating.

He slowly extended the steps, carefully guiding them away from the few couples on the dance floor so he’d have a little more room. They’d have all the attention anyway, so there was no point in having discretion. He just wanted to be sure they didn’t run into anyone. And if anyone got mad about any “rules” being broken, well, he’d take the fall. He’d gladly get in trouble if it meant giving her a good time.

So he began to sweep her out to the side, releasing her waist to stretch her in a flourish. He clasped her again, then went back into the basic step pattern. A quick spin of his arm to give her a twirl. Lifting both arms to turn her about so they danced with her back flush against him. He never broke rhythm, and went right back in time with the basic steps, but he took a few liberties, adding a few moves to keep things interesting to keep her on her toes.

And, to hopefully, make her smile.

The truth was that there was a reason Sora had worked so hard in learning how to dance.

Growing up it wasn’t just a game for him. As he crushed on Kairi, deep down he had been wanting to do whatever it took to get her attention. Dancing, singing, romantic gestures and sweet conversation- he had done it all in the hopes of winning her heart. Riku was strong and fast and smart- Sora could never hope to beat him the usual ways. The best Sora could do was be “romantic”. In his quest to try to figure out “what girls liked” he had come to expect them himself. Romantic dates, meaningful outings and heartfelt gestures were all things he had unconsciously come to incorporate in all his “daydreams” of wooing a girl. Even after Kairi had turned him down, and he tried to look for love elsewhere, those same habits carried with him wherever he went. What would she like? What would make her swoon? What would capture her heart? He didn’t even think about it.

“Sora,” Kairi had said when he came to her, to stop him from agonizing so much. “Do you just want something for her birthday, or do you want to impress her?”

He’d been so mortified realizing he did it without thinking that he assured her this was just a birthday thing. Just a casual thing between friends. He didn’t have any personal feelings, really.

All the heroes of his childhood hadn’t just won their love interests with strength and brawn- but with heart too. Perhaps that was why Sora valued it so much, and saw it as important.

But whatever the case, this was how it was. And now…

‘It’s just a dance,’ he told himself, never letting his smile falter as he tried to cheer her up. ‘It doesn’t have to be romantic. We’re just friends. I’m just… trying to help her have fun.’

The problem was that for Sora, ballroom dancing was romantic. Normal dancing at a party, club, festival? Not an issue- that was for everyone! But royal, beautiful, ballroom dancing was different. Ever since he was a kid he associated it with romance. The music, the ambiance, the gentle touches, the close contact, her.

‘She really is beautiful.’ She had the most breathtaking eyes. They were almost… the same color he used to have. ‘It must be hard looking at my eyes.’ He thought wryly to himself, the shame making him break eye contact to look at her mouth instead. ‘They’re so weird now.’

He meant the way they were now stark yellow-gold, the mark of the dhampire. Not human in the least.

(And what he didn’t realize was that his outfit, while mostly blue, was lined with gold silk, and had the deep golden vest. It brought out the deeper gold tones of his eyes, something Kairi had realized and had been determined to do. Blue looked good with his skin and hair, and gold brought out his eyes. It was the perfect color combination for him. It was the real reason she had chosen this outfit for him. Despite how upset he was about his traits, she was determined to make him see the beauty in himself, even if other people had to tell him for her.)

His heart skipped a beat and swelled with emotion as they whirled around each other. The rush that came with the dancing was too much for his poor heart to stave back, the high that came from the excitement for the night making him truly feel like he was falling head over heels.

‘So this is what Prince Charming felt,’ Sora thought to himself, steeling himself to keep up his grin and make eye contact again. ‘It’s no wonder he searched the whole kingdom for her. I’d probably do the same.’

Just a simple dance, and his heart was absolutely convinced it had found his soul mate. Which, when he thought about it… was actually kind of strange.

‘Why don’t we react to each other?’ He thought distractedly, eyes flitting over her jewelry, and hair, and lips, like searching for an answer. ‘Is it actually because I’m from a different universe?’

He meant his demonic nature. If Kairi activated her holy powers, it triggered his traits. He had to physically fight them down to keep from losing control. And even normally, Kairi could still sense his non-human signature. That was part of the reason he had been a little worried when he first heard of Zelda’s status as a vessel of the goddess. Yet she never treated him with anything other than kindness, and truth be told, close proximity hadn’t even alerted him to her divine nature. Maybe Kairi was right- his “species” didn’t have any beef with the heavens of this universe… so maybe they didn’t care? Maybe the “divine” powers didn’t trigger him because the gods didn’t inherently hate him? It wasn’t like he was an “enemy” of the heavens if his kind didn’t technically exist here.

Was there a way to find out?

… without alerting Zelda?

He would have to find a way to look into it. There had to be some way to see if he’d be… safe… here...

His grin faltered as his heart fell. Oh. Right. Divinity or not, Sora still consumed blood to survive. No kingdom would tolerate that. Once the goddess found out, he was pretty sure she’d start sending whatever the “angel” equivalent was after him.

… he just really, really hoped it wasn’t Zelda that came after him personally. He didn’t think he’d be able to take that.

“Alright, up we go!” He chirped as they neared the end of the song. And that was all the warning Zelda got before he grasped her waist and lifted her up in the air in a spin. Normally the girl would need to jump to help the man, but, well, he had super strength, so who cared?

'Huh, she's heavier than she looks,' he noted as he plopped her back down. 'She must work out a lot.'

And of course, Sora being Sora, didn't stop to think how weird that was.

‘That’s my Sora!’ Kairi cheered to herself in approval, hands clasped together. ‘That’s how you win the heart of a princess!’

Listen, if it was between her “brother from another mother” and some stranger, she’d rather cheer for Sora. He was the sweetest person in the whole wide world, and he deserved to be happy! And who better than a perfect princess?

(Admittedly, Kairi might have been a little biased, given her love for them both. She didn’t believe him for an instant when he said there was “nothing” between the two of them.)

Honestly, the girl couldn't believe her luck. It was like a scene straight from a fairytale, and she was getting to witness it firsthand! A lovely princess with a dashing hero...

This time, as the song ended, Sora remembered he was supposed to bow to his partner, and he did so, only just now hearing all the murmurs from the onlookers. The hum was too much for him to filter through however, so he just ignored them. He was pretty sure they were all ho-humming his gall or whatever.

Actually, a lot of them were just trying to figure out how old he was. Hazards of having a permanent baby-face.

‘Sorry I can’t make this party better, Zelda,’ he thought to himself as he stood, though knew he couldn’t say that out loud. ‘But I hope you at least had a little bit of fun.’

He turned about, heading back to the sidelines, until he noticed the frantically waving arms of his best friend. He blinked at her in confusion, squinting as he focused his ears on her to figure out what she was desperately mouthing to him.

“Take her back!” She was saying in panic, and pointed to the side. “Take her back!”

He tilted his head in confusion, before following where she was pointing. Take her back-?

And then he saw the throne, it hit him, and he whirled around in alarm, red-faced. Oh shoot, shoot, shoot!

He took a long step forward, offering his arm, even as he looked away from clear embarrassment. “I’ll uh, take you back to your seat.”

Oops, in his casualness he had forgotten she was a princess. So much for finally getting the hang of this party.

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

[cursingtoji]

as requested, a longer version of this drabble

synopsis: geto spared one woman from the village he exterminated due to the pleading of mimiko and nanako, now he has to live in between preaching a world without non-sorcerers during the day and sleeping with one during the night; a dive into the mind of a conflicted man.

cw: canon events (no major spoilers), death topics, fem submissive reader x cult leader geto, smut, oral (m -> f), 1.6k words.

part 2

The day was horribly busy, on days like these, where he had to talk in front of a crowd for such a long time, then entertain donors, then eat curses, Geto can’t sleep due to the loud noise of his mind, he would probably sleep if he was in a equally loud environment, but, except for the sound of your soft breathing, the room has dead quiet.

Dead quiet.

Geto sits up, the cold air hitting his bare chest as he takes in the sight of the red temple across the open window, a ruffling makes him draw and narrow his eyes to the figure in his bed.

He remembers the day he first saw you, trying to sneak in the room where Mimiko and Nanako were locked in, he was in the process of exterminating the people in that village so he didn’t think twice when he grabbed you by your hair ready to let a curse rip you apart but the deafening sound of the girl’s scream stopped him, only then he noticed a bag with food that fell of your hands.

He could see from a distance, you were like the rest of them, a regular non-sorcerer and a few minutes ago he decided what he wanted.

A world free of non-sorcerers.

He can’t make an exception. He shouldn’t.

The twins had tears in their eyes. They’re young and his responsibility now, so a helping hand couldn’t be a sin. He could leave you for last. 

Somehow he finds in his heart to spare you, and once he consolidated his power as a leader, he took the three of you in, the girls only leave your side when he’s around, they don’t approach anyone else except the two of you.

The first week you were around sorcerers he could see the fear and confusion in your face. Nanako tugged his clothing and he squatted to listen as she whispered to him “She cannot see them”.

So he provided special glasses for you, one with cursed energy so you could see what people like you shouldn’t, and he made Nanako hand it to you as you slowly began to comprehend what the weird events around you actually were.

She should be thankful, she’s only alive because of me.

He thought about that constantly, especially when watching you smiling and minding your own business.

And you are grateful and respectful towards him, almost never making eye contact, just keeping your head down and only calling him “Geto-sama”, he appreciated that, you should know your place.

It’s only a matter of time before he grows fond of you too, with his influence and your submission, it didn’t take long before you were in his bed, being happy to serve him in any ways.

It’s a contradiction having you around, he knows it. A monkey.

You sleep so peacefully, he wonders if you understand how lucky you are to make it this far.

Tonight could be your last night on earth, how deserving are you to live in his ideal world? You have two little girls that adore you, is that enough? He could just tell them something awful happened.

His cold fingers trace the back of your neck, ghosting your cervical spine.

You fell off the stairs and broke your neck, so sad.

That’s believable, the temple has many stairs.

His index finds your pulsing point.

A man attacked you, another monkey, and cut your throat, how horrible.

His eyes drop to your rising chest.

You fell on the lake and drowned, a terrible accident.

There’s so many possibilities to get rid of you without them blaming Geto.

Warm fingers unexpectedly find his hand, your small hand covers his. Suguru feels his human side returning to him, the dark cloud over his head slowly fading away as you take his wrist and you turn your head to kiss his palm.

He feels like crying, confused and guilty.

The bedroom is dark enough for you to miss the look of despair in his eyes, he allows you to caress the veins in his forearms, tracing it all the way to his biceps until you find his neck with your arm completely extended. Suguru gives in to the light pressure you make, bringing him to lay back down with you. You kiss his shoulders, his chest, his neck.

He doesn’t feel worth your kisses.

Again the contradiction.

You kiss his jawline and he stops you with a hand over your lips, he doesn’t want you to feel the way his lips quiver, you don’t ask questions, just accept and kiss his palm again, holding it against your cheek.

Geto is hard on you sometimes, giving humiliating tasks such as cleaning up the remains of someone who wronged him or capturing a curse that will for sure attack you. As much as he sometimes thinks of creating a space between the girls and you, the little ones always find a way back, helping you clean while keeping a non-morbid conversation topic or helping bandage the scratches you got from the small but feisty cursed spirited you were assigned to.

Yet you never once complained, always bowing in obedience with a soft “Yes, Geto-sama” coming out of your lips.

He knows when to treat you well too, sometimes he knocks on your room at night, sometimes he sends someone to call you over to his. When his whole cult speech was over he would dismiss everyone except you, to be alone in the giant spacious room with him, he likes to take you there, where your quiet sounds of pleasure bounce through the walls and create an echo.

You’re good to him, not to his cause, to Geto-sama you’re useless, but to Suguru Geto you’re an anchor.

He returns your kisses, sucking on your clavicle then down the soft skin of your breasts, where he takes in one nipple and licks until it gets hard enough for him to gently bite on and make you gasp.

Your hands find his hair, his long soft locks, the same ones you brush ever so patiently when Mimiko and Nanako turn it into a mess of knots from braiding and tying tiny silicone elastics on, you don’t scold them, even if it means to stay hours with Geto trying to undo it afterwards. 

They will grow up to be spoiled.

But he also could never scold them like a father is supposed to, deep down he knows he won’t need to, they adore him, anything he’ll say they’ll do. 

They’re good kids, he supposes he owns it to you too.

Suguru leaves a wet trail of kisses down your body until he’s between your legs, he first starts by licking the surrounds of your clit teasing patiently as you get wetter, the sleepiness doesn’t allow you to protest or whine, only to close your eyes and take whatever he’s willing to give you while tangling your fingers in his hair.

When he finally gives your nub some attention in the form of sucking, your leg twitches, he squeezes it and places it over his shoulder, at this point he’s laying on his stomach vaguely thrusting his pelvis onto the mattress to relieve a bit of the aching in his cock he gets when eating you out.

He adds more tongue as he moves down your needy hole, which pulsates around nothing, Suguru hums nuzzling your glossy folds, the vibration goes straight to your hardened nub.

“Geto-sama” you moan when he fucks you with his tongue, the tip of his nose hits your clit perfectly, once he looks up to see you falling apart on him you shiver, his eyes are predatory, you wonder if you should retrieve your hand from his head, but he quickly closes them again, losing himself in the taste of you. God, you taste so good. What makes him get through the day when he has to absorb those disgusting curses is the thought of getting lost between your legs, sucking your nipples, eating his own cum off you, sucking your tongue…

He feels your orgasm approaching as you tug his locks harder, whimpering softly. Usually he would make you beg, stopping his ministrations just before you get there and delaying it until there are tears in your eyes. Tonight he’s enjoying the silence, he might just let you go ahead, but there’s something he wants to hear.

“Say my name” he orders with a raspy voice.

“Get—“

“No” he bites your inner thigh, “My actual name.”

“Suguru” you roll his name so beautifully on your tongue.

“Keep saying it” he dives back, making out with your pussy and paying extra attention to your puffy clit as you call his name in a prayer.

He misses it, the way his first name used to be used, nowadays is just “Geto-sama this, Geto-sama that, master, sir”. It would inflate his ego if it didn’t come out of monkeys' mouths.

But Suguru? He left that for you only, even the other sorcerers he considers family just call him Geto.

Before he realizes you’re already cumming, hole pulsating around his tongue and heels digging on his back. He slows down his pace, nibbling on your glossy lips then taking your hand out of his hair to kiss it like you did earlier, the act makes your heart swell, you caress his face, thumb rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Suguru” you call his name again, this time looking straight in his eyes, they don’t seem predatory anymore as he moves up finding a safe spot on your chest, where he lays down listening to your heartbeat as your fingers work through the knots in his hair, this time caused by yourself. Your other hand caresses his back and shoulders, whatever skin you can find to soothe him. Now he doesn’t have the loud voices in his head and bitter taste in his mouth and manages to fall asleep again.

part 2 ->

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

[atyourmerci]

♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Next chapter

♡ ♡

Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret

Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS

♡ ♡

She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.

Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.

No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?

But you knew.

She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.

The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her. 

You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.

You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.

♡ ♡

That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…

“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.

“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”

She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”

You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”

Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”

“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.

You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.

“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”

She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”

You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”

“And how the hell would you know that.”

“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.

“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.

Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.

“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”

“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.

You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.

You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”

“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.

Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.

“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.

She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.

You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.

The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”

“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.

“You want me to touch you there abby?”

“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.

“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.

You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.

“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”

“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.

“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.

“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.

“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”

“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”

She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”

She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.

“So swollen, just for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.

You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.

You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.

“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.

She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.

As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.

She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.

“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.

Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.

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