#thank god it’s not in 4K or we would have a problem

[jjkeverlast]

apparently that ck ad is longer so now it’s just more tits and abs. sigh. i’m not the strongest soldier when it comes to jeon jungkook.

[leighsartworks216]

Might I request an enemies to friends to lovers with Astarion?

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LITTLE DRABBLE. IT IS ALMOST 4K WORDS. It also became a songfic. The song is "Your Stupid Face" by Kaden MacKay

Also it is 11:20. I am so tired. I do not have the energy to proofread this rn. So it's as good as it's gonna get

Warnings: self-doubt, bickering

Word Count: 3,957

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I just really hate your face

Though I know that won't surprise you

But, to me, your skin is one giant wart

And your laugh's one big snort

And you stink, so in short

I despise you

You disgrace the human race

'Cause you're more of a mosquito

I would rather have the dentist and drill

Then this swine in the swill

And if you were a bill, I would veto

And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face

-

Astarion sighed just behind you. You glared over your shoulder at him. Did he really have to be so annoying when you were trying to help? What did he have against doing the right thing?! Or were all high elves as up their asses as him?

The little girl glanced nervously between you, her hands fiddling anxiously with each other. “I-Is that alright?”

You turned back to her with a big smile, though Astarion could see the strain behind it. “Of course! It’s no problem. We’ll find your toy and bring it back before nightfall, how’s that sound?”

“Really?!” Her eyes became wide and excited, bouncing on her feet like there were hot coals beneath it. “Thank you so much!”

You watched as she ran off back to her mother, jumping as she grabbed the woman’s arm and pointed at you. You smiled, genuine this time, and waved to them both. Then, you turned to go back into the woods.

The joy didn’t last long.

“I thought being an adventurer meant slaying dragons, learning powerful spells, gaining power - that sort of thing.” Astarion sighed again, long and dramatic, as he stepped over a branch. “But, no, here we are, armed to the teeth, tadpoles crawling into our minds, looking for a stuffed animal.”

You grit your teeth together and tried to ignore him. The sooner you found the girl’s stuffed bear, the sooner you could stop listening to his whining. “She said she lost it over here, somewhere, but something could have taken it or moved it by now. If we split up, we can cover more ground.”

You could almost feel the way he rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. If I find it, I’m not telling you. And I’m certainly not going to touch it. Gods only know what’s on it.”

“You’re such a child!”

He lays a hand over his chest, looking down his nose at you. “I’m so sorry that I have some dignity left.”

How did you get stuck with such an annoying, self-entitled, brat? 

“Fine! Then I’ll look, and you can follow me around like a lost puppy.” You smiled sickeningly sweet up at him, your whole expression filled with sarcasm and annoyance. “Happy?”

He scowled. “And I have to follow you because…? If you’re so eager for my company, you should just say so, darling.”

You shook your head, facade falling. “You’re impossible.” You stomped off. He could follow you or wait around, you didn’t have the energy left to care.

—

Oh, no

No

I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy

I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy

I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!

And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "psych!"

Now I like your stupid face

-

You tilted your head, watching as Astarion held up a mirror. The tadpole kept him from burning in the sun, but it did nothing to bring back his reflection.

“Looking at something?” His voice catches you off guard. It was odd to have someone talking to you with their back turned, even more so when he could see your reflection and you couldn’t see his.

“Just looking,” you tell him. “What are you doing?”

He sighs, forlorn. “I’m looking, too, but not seeing very much. Another quirk of my affliction.”

“Do you miss it?”

He stands and turns while he speaks, finally meeting you face-to-face. “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He sighs again. His face looks so droopy and sad, like a puppy left out in the rain. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You look at his eyes, really look. It was hard to picture him with any other color. It was a side-effect of his vampirism, but you could go your whole life believing they always were and always had been red. “What color were they before?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past.” His face scrunches up in rage as he throws the mirror on the ground. You step back to avoid the shards that break from it. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can’t imagine forgetting your face. It’s a rather big portion of who you are, after all. Thinking about looking in a mirror and seeing nothing stirs your stomach like a witch’s brew. You study his face, eyes tracing over every curve and sharp edge and wrinkle. You tried to imagine being him, no longer able to see what you looked like.

Astarion frowns at you. “What?”

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words are out before you can even think them, but a spark of hope flickers in his eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to back out of it now. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” He pauses. His voice gets soft, lacking its usual bravado. “What you see.”

He waits as you look at him. You try to figure out what the world sees, versus what you see. The world may see his eyes, sharp and red and keen. The world would see his dangerous smile, full of pretty teeth and sharp fangs, threatening to bite.

But it’s not what you see. You see his hair, paler than freshly fallen snow. You see the way it curls around his ears, how there’s always one stubborn strand hanging by his forehead. You see the wrinkles that crease his face when he smiles, surrounding his mouth and crowding in the corners of his eyes. And you’re startled, trying to figure out how long ago you’d noticed these things about him.

“I see… the creases when you laugh.”

He sneers, placing a hand over his chest. He takes it as an insult when you mean it in the kindest way possible. Without his wrinkles, he wouldn’t be Astarion. “Excuse me? I’m an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother.” He huffs. He looks like he wants to stop - never mind what he looks like, he doesn’t want to hear what else you could possibly say. But he continues, “You can do better. What else?” The curiosity wins out.

You wonder if you should tell him the easy answer. Tell him what the world sees. What everyone else sees. But to do so feels like a huge disservice. You inhale, prepared to be scolded once more. “I see the way your hair curls around your ears.”

“This is meant to be flattery, not poetry.” He sighs, creases forming between his brows as he frowns, annoyed. “Just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”

“Is that all you want?” You don’t mean to sound as angry as you do. “Shallow praise?”

He scoffs. “Hardly.” He begins ticking off fingers. “There’s also gold, sex, revenge - quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

You shake your head. “What I see isn’t good enough for you then? The seductive, charming face you put on for everyone else - that’s what you want to know about?” He sneers. He hates how easily you’ve read him. And you hate how much it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s because your words mean nothing, or because he can’t even allow himself a single, beautiful flaw. “The world sees your eyes. They’re strong and piercing. And your smile: Dangerous. They see you for the monster you are. Are you satisfied now?”

You leave before he can answer you. Anger trembles in your fingers, but they’re weighed down with sadness. A conflicting bundle of emotions twists in your chest. You shouldn’t care if all he wants is to be called pretty and move on. You shouldn’t! And you don’t!

But you do…

—

I just really miss your face

Though, by now, I must disgust you

I had tried to be the stubbornest mule

'Cause I knew life was cruel

So I guess I was foolish to trust you

But I wait here just in case

Though I know I'm being senseless

How could I have ever been so naive

And wear my heart on my sleeve

When I knew it would leave me defenseless?

And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face

-

The sun burned. Truly, honest to gods burned. And he ran. What else was he supposed to do? Bake in the sunlight while everyone else said their teary goodbyes, “We’ll see you down the road”, yadda yadda?

But, he can admit when he messed up.

He should have stayed longer. By the docks. The sun was just beginning to rise, he had plenty of time to slip from one shadow to the next before it was high in the sky. He could have said his goodbyes. He should have.

Already he missed Karlach. He fondly remembers when she hauled him over her shoulder, jostling him about as she ran. He certainly wasn’t too pleased at the time, but now… And he missed her nickname for him. And the banter, and teasing, and… everything.

Everyone had their charms, he supposed. Gale was, well, Gale, but even he wasn’t too bad. And you.

It was hard to admit. He could say he missed the others all day, but you? You who dragged him into the woods to find a stuffed animal for a kid? Who begrudgingly let him have a sip that night he revealed himself? Who yelled at him when he couldn’t bear hearing anything other than he wanted to when you offered to be his mirror? Who hugged him after he killed Cazador? Who helped him save his brothers and sisters and all the other souls whose lives he ruined? Who smiled so sweetly at him?

He couldn’t say it.

After he ran away, cursing and damning the gods for confining him to the shadows again, he disappeared to the Underdark. You’d mentioned how they needed a leader, guidance. And, well, he had nowhere else to go.

He never got to see you run in the direction he left after saying your goodbyes, smiling and excited. Or watch as you search and search for him. How you shout his name. How tears well in your eyes as you realize he’s gone.

And maybe it’s better that way.

—

What are you doing here?

I didn't run away!

It was... it was a strategic retreat

What is there to talk about? It's over—I ruined it

Well, yeah of course I'm sorry, but

No, no, don't forgive me!

Why do you do that?

Why—why give me another chance to mess things up?

Because you—what?

Those three little words

Out of the blue

Completely uncalled for

Especially from you

Why don't you hate me?

Why do you care?

Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?

Where is your glare?

Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!

Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself

But that's why I need you

You shatter my fear

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here

Though it's stupid to date me

You're willing to try

And if you don't hate me, then why should I?

Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?

You're a moron

-

The last thing Astarion anticipates is you barging into his home, stomping and angry. The next last thing he expects is for you to throw a cloak in his face. He backs up as fast as you approach, tripping and falling backward over an armchair. It tips back with him and he lands with a thud. When he pulls the cloak off his face, you’re standing over him, still just as pissed as before.

“Ah.” He grins sheepishly. “Hello?”

“You ran away!”

“Yes, yes, I know-”

“You ran away! I went chasing after you and you were gone!”

“The sun! I couldn’t-”

“I know! That’s why I went and got you that damn cloak! And I was going to give it to you on the docks, but you ran away!”

He struggles to get up, grunting as he tries to push the armchair off so he’s not bent in half. You huff and sit the chair upright. Then, you offer him a hand. He’s not sure if he should take it. He’s half-certain you’ll flip him over and crack the floor with his body. But you wave your hand, insistent, and he does not want to piss you off any more, so he takes it. You haul him to his feet.

He holds the cloak out in front of him, studying it with a frown. “Darling, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but clothes don’t actually protect us from the sun.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” You sigh, hands on your hips, but you seem to have cooled off some. “It’s the Cloak of Dragomir. Gale helped me find where it was hidden. I figured, if the tadpole is the only thing keeping you safe in the sun, then after it’s all over, you’d need something else to protect you. So.” You gestured at the cloak.

He was speechless, and perhaps a bit skeptical. It had already been several weeks since the docks, and every day he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Basking in the sun. Lounging in her warmth like a cat as he sleepily flipped through a book. It sounded too good to be true - a simple piece of fabric that could prevent him from turning to ash?

“Are you sure it works?”

You laughed, airily and annoyed. “No, I had a shortage of vampires to test it on at the time. I was going to find out when you tried it on. If it didn’t work, well…” You let out a long breath. You refused to take your eyes away from the cloak. Like looking at him again would bring all the rage and frustration back. “I’m still in touch with Gale. He can help me look for something.”

He spun it around to look at the back. It was a deep purple, with the only remarkable feature being a sort of fur around the neck and shoulders. He could almost imagine it hanging up in a shop.

You cleared your throat. “Put it on.”

“Hardly the best place to test it. The sun doesn’t exactly reach down here.” Still, he unclasped it and swung it over his shoulders.

It was light and breezy, allowing air to move through, but warm enough it kept away any chill - not very concerning for a vampire, but still a nice feature. It reached mid-thigh. He shifted around in it, testing its movement and fit. He bristled when he felt something brush against his arm.

He lifted up the edge of the cloak where he felt it, and his undead heart stopped all over again. There, messily embroidered on the lining in gold thread. Little Star. A poor imitation of embroidered stars surrounded it, forming a sort of faux night sky.

“I did that.” You clear your throat and scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes everywhere you looked. Every time you glanced back at him and his dumbfounded face, your cheeks heated up. “I know it’s not as good as yours, but, you know, I thought it was the best way to get a message across.”

His chest was full of emotion. He still had a hard time deciphering it all, even after so long of you carefully teasing them out. But through it all was one resounding question.

“Why?”

You finally made eye contact with him. You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this can’t have been easy to get your hands on. You could have sold it when I ran away, but you embroidered it, sought me out… Why? Let’s be honest, dear, we’re not exactly friends.”

“We’re not exactly at each other’s throats either.” It came out harsher than you meant. You took a breath to calm your nerves. “I know we didn’t really get along when we first met - hells, we still argued about everything under the sun with the slightest prompting, but I do care for you.”

His lips quick up slightly. “An unfortunate choice. I’m not exactly the easiest person to care for.”

“No.” You smile, soft and patient. It was hard to look at you now and connect you to the person who barged into his room moments ago. “But I want to. You’re worth the effort.”

—

So you think that we could work?

Here I thought I'd been the dumb one—what?

You're forgiving me for all I did wrong

You're unmuting the song

And, again, I belong to someone

No! You can drop the stupid smirk

Though by now I guess you've earned that

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout

Your stupid face will win out

And I guess it's about time I learned that

And though we go together like a Chanel Nº 5 and mace

At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!

I love your stupid face

-

You tugged Astarion through the city, releasing short apologies left and right to any early-risers you bumped into. He’d tried asking multiple times where in the hells you were taking him, but you never answered. You just shot him a bright smile over your shoulder and kept on running.

Before he knew it, you were at the docks. A light orange hue lined the edge of the ocean, signaling the sun’s appearance. He frowned. “You dragged me all the way out here to watch the sunrise?”

“Yes.” You squeezed his hand. Your eyes were wide and bright and filled with overwhelming glee. “You never got to see it last time you were here. But now you can!”

He scoffed, a grin teasing at his lips. “Darling, we could watch the sunrise from anywhere. We don’t need to be exactly here to do so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, no, but it’s more about the principle of the thing. You didn’t get to see that sunrise and say goodbye, but now you can.”

Red eyes scanned the horizon. Oranges and yellows flooded from the ocean-line, chasing away the dark blue of night. He couldn’t deny it was beautiful, but…

He swallowed, frowning out at the sea. He couldn’t look at your face as he asked, quietly, too afraid to actually put the words out there, “So this is goodbye?”

The edge of the star poked her head out. He’d enjoyed watching the sunrises and sunsets during your adventure. He would welcome her touch onto his skin every day, grateful for even just a brief moment to be able to feel her warmth again after 200 years. And every night he would mourn her loss, a seed of fear planted deep within that any sunset could be his last, before he would be contained to the shadows forever. He never got to savor the last one. The one time he wasn’t prepared to go gracefully into that night.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you whisper back. If you hear the shuddering breath he lets out, you don’t say anything. If you see the tears building at the corners of his eyes as he turns to look at you, you don’t point it out. “I can stay. With you. If you want.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” But I wish I could. He wants nothing more than to be selfish. To take every single scrap you offer him and give nothing back.

You release his hand only to better tangle your fingers together. Your thumb runs along his palm. “You wouldn’t have to.”

“You’d be living in the shadows most of your life, even with this,” he lifts the edge of the cloak to make a point.

“Okay.”

“You wouldn’t be able to go on adventures. You wouldn’t be able to find someone else, have a family, live your life.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so willing to give up everything for me?”

You raise your free hand to his cheek. It’s haloed by the red-orange light of the sun. He hates the way he leans into it without a second’s hesitation.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’d stay because I want to be with you?”

He opens his mouth, shuts it again, and tries to find the words. Strained, he chokes out, “Yes.”

“My lovely little star, even without the cloak, I’d stay in the shadows with you for eons. Adventure would be empty without you by my side. There is no one else I could bear to put up with besides you.”

He takes a breath and closes his eyes. It’s hard for the words to sink in, but he urges them to. Staying with him would not be a burden. He is not a burden. He holds your hand to his cheek, pressing it tighter against his skin. By the time he opens his eyes again, the sun is halfway risen.

“I’m not good at… this. Whatever this is. I have no idea how to do anything more than what I had to do. I have no idea what will happen.”

You smile. “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

He chuckles. The knot in his heart loosens. When had you turned from an annoying thorn in his side to this? How long ago had you wormed your way into his soul? What would he do without you?

He feels like he’s just been thrown downstream - caught in the current and waiting for it to burn. He’s uncertain as he leans forward slightly, experimentally. You let him come to you; you wait patiently and smile at him encouragingly until he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

The sun warms his skin as he lets go of the guilt holding him back. He’s a mess. He’s still working through his emotions with Cazador, trying to find footing amongst the spawn in the Underdark, trying to be good enough. And here you are saying he already is.

He catches your lips and allows himself to forget for the briefest moments that this is a terrible idea. How can he possibly think this is wrong when you sigh into his mouth and pull him closer? How can this possibly be wrong?

The reds, oranges, and yellows fade from the sky. Bright blue dominates the sky. And everything is okay.

---

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[bro-atz]

knots

in which: your coworker recommends that you see a massage therapist for your many, many muscle aches, and you do just that with massage therapist choi san

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 4k

content: smut, masseuse!au, table sex, massage, completely consensual!

apply for the permanent taglist here!

Thank god your thighs were fucked up. Actually, it sucks. Your thighs were eternally fucked according to every single doctor you’ve ever been to. They all said that you have incredibly large knots in your thighs and that you would need more than one session to bring your thighs back to normal. You didn’t really think about seeing a massage therapist until you threw your shoulder out working your day job like there was no tomorrow.

One of your coworkers from work always told you to see one of the massage therapists at the place that she goes to.

“They’re all really good! My go-to therapist is usually Yeosang, but Wooyoung filled in for him one day, and he did a good job as well. I’m telling you, they saved my life,” she explained to you while giving you their business card.

“Do they only have male massage therapists?” you asked, unsure if you would feel comfortable having a man massage you instead of a woman.

“They do... I think… I was the same way, too, but the person at the front desk recommended Yeosang for me because each massage therapist has different styles and pressures. Some of them can be really firm, but others have a light touch. I usually need medium to firm to bounce back.”

You nodded, still hesitant about the place, but after you left work and stepped onto the sidewalk wrong and feeling a way of soreness and pain shoot through your calves and thighs, you decided that you would go to this place that your coworker told you about.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a cute receptionist who looked like a massage therapist himself.

“Welcome to SPATZ. My name is Jongho. How can I help you today?”

“Uh…” you hesitated, unsure of how to go about asking for their services.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No…”

“Not a problem, we do take walk-ins. What kind of service are you looking for today?”

He opened his book and flipped through some pages while you thought about what parts of your body were in pain.

“Honestly, I have no idea. My doctors keep telling me about knots in my thighs, and today I threw my shoulder out at work… I guess my entire body?”

“And what kind of pressure do you prefer?” he asked without looking up from the book.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

The man finally looked up from the book. You shifted slightly as you felt his gaze burn a hole through you and then let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he opened up another book and jotted down some details.

“Name?”

“Y/N.”

“Insurance and ID, please,” he asked you as he held out his hand.

You handed the cards to him. He scanned them then returned them to you as he continued to scribble away in the smaller notebook.

“Shoulder… Thighs… Your calves are a little tense, too… And your back is definitely stiff,” Jongho said to himself, but you were still able to hear him slightly. He raised his voice as he addressed you, “Luckily, we have our most versatile therapist available at the moment. Since this is your first time, you get to test out our service for free, and when the session is over, we can discuss scheduling future visits. For now, if you could just fill out this paperwork and have a seat.”

He handed you a clipboard, which you took. You didn’t take long to fill out the paperwork, but before you could get up and hand the board back to the receptionist, the door to the inside of the place opened, revealing a man who seemed more equipped to be a sports therapist than the receptionist.

“Y/N?”

“Yes!”

“Come with me.”

The man disappeared through the door, and you quickly got up, returned the board to Jongho, and shuffled towards him until you were walking right behind him. He opened another door and gestured for you to go in. You did so and stood in the room awkwardly as he shut the door behind you two. There was a table in the middle of the room and towards one of the walls was a bunch of cabinets and a countertop with a various collection of oils and lotions lined up.

“You can put your bag on this chair and have a seat on the table,” he said with mild amusement upon seeing your timidness.

You nodded and did as he instructed. There was a rolling stool near the counter and cabinets that he sat on and rolled on so that he was right in front of you. The stool was significantly shorter than the table itself, so when he rolled over, his head was near your knees. You swallowed nervously and held your legs closer together as you looked at this massage therapist.

He was beautiful. He smiled at you softly, slightly exposing his dimples which you know would go deeper the moment he laughed. He eyes were sharp, but his eyebrows were even sharper— they were definitely not sisters; they were twins. The shape of his nose accentuated all the sharp lines on his face, and his plush lips truly added to his charm. You felt your face get warm. You silently thanked God that you wouldn’t have to look at his face while he worked on your knots since he would most likely have you be face down for the most part.

“My name is San, and I’m going to be your massage therapist today,” he introduced himself. “Before we get started, what kind of pressure are you looking for?”

“I really don’t know. This is my first time getting any sort of massage, so I have no idea what kind of pressure would be best for me,” you answered truthfully.

“Okay, so what we can do is start soft, then if you need me to go harder, I can.”

It was the way he phrased that sentiment that made you shift slightly, trying to calm yourself down.

“According to Jongho, you want to work on your shoulder, legs, and lower back, right?”

You nodded. San opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a sheet. He shook out the sheet and nodded his head, indicating that you should get off the table. You did so, and he covered the table with the sheet. Then, he said, “I’m going to step out of the room for a minute. Undress, get under the sheet, and lay face down. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Your eyes widened. Why did he need you to remove your clothes? Couldn’t he just work over your clothes? San seemed to read your mind as he clarified, “To work out the knots and give you the best effect, working with skin-to-skin contact will be best.”

With a hesitant but understanding nod, you allowed San to step out of the room. You quickly removed your clothes and got under the sheet, worried that San would just step in when you were completely naked. You ensured that the sheet was tucked tightly around you so that you were only showing so much skin and put your face down. Several seconds later, San knocked on the door.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

San entered the room again and closed the door behind him. You kept your head down as you waited for him to do his thing. You did not want to make eye contact with him at all.

The first part of your body that he uncovered was your shoulder itself, and you were suddenly aware that the side of your breast was exposed to the chilly air in the room. You pursed your lips and tried not to think about the fact that with one wrong move, San could see your entire naked backside. However, San remained professional. He didn’t pull any moves on you.

The session went really well. Your thighs had never felt such relief before. According to San, your thighs needed an insane amount of pressure, but the rest of your body needed a lighter touch. After your session, he recommended that you schedule your appointments with him if you planned on returning for their services. You did just that.

You had many, many, many sessions with San since that first time. You developed a sort of professional friendship with him in that time, and on your first anniversary since starting the services at the place he worked at, you got an email from the company itself celebrating that anniversary. To celebrate, you went for another massage.

“Can you believe I’ve been seeing you for a year?” you asked him, unaware of your choice of phrasing.

“You make it sound like we’re dating,” he responded jokingly.

Your face went red. The thought of you dating your massage therapist felt taboo in a way, but that wasn’t why you were blushing— if you ever got the chance to date someone as hot as San, you probably wouldn’t be able to function ever.

“So, what’re we working on today?” San asked as he laid out the sheet.

“I slept on my neck funny—”

“I told you not to sleep with so many pillows!”

“I’m not anymore! But I fell asleep on my sofa last night…”

“Y/N! Don’t do that! You’re going to make your condition way worse,” San lectured. “You better sleep in a proper bed tonight.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Undress and go face down. We’ll work on your neck and shoulders. Also, maybe your lower back. Your posture needs a little work.”

After undressing and getting under the sheet, San entered the room. He moved the sheet down so that your traps were completely uncovered then put some oil on his hands and rubbed his hands together to generate some heat. He started massaging lightly.

You didn’t know what was different about this time. He used the same lotion as usual, and he used the same pressure, but you were incredibly turned on— maybe it was because he was massaging much slower than usual. It didn’t help when San brushed your hair away from your neck, his nails grazing the nape of your neck almost making you moan. Your ears were burning as his fingers pressed into the sides of your neck and along your shoulders.

It was only when San traced a line down your spine and blew cool air lightly along the way did you confirm that he was definitely not doing his usual service.

“San…?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to call him out for not maintaining his usual style of massage, but you also didn’t want him to stop.

“Is everything okay?” San prompted since you didn’t respond.

“Y-yeah…”

“Want me to move onto your lower back?”

“Sure…”

San moved the sheet down further, exposing your lower back. He worked on your back, and his service went back to normal for a solid minute before you felt his hands work lower than your lower back. He was on your tail bone, then his hands went further. The sheet moved down even more, and the second he cupped your buttocks, you gasped and moaned slightly.

“S-san,” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“It’s a stress relieving massage. It’s meant to make every part of you feel good.”

You wanted to respond, but before you could, San squirted more oil onto your body and started rubbing your ass cheeks inwards. His firm kneading on your buttocks made your legs tingle. You had to hold onto the sides of the table to keep your sanity, your nails digging into the sheets. Small moans escaped you every so often, earning a throaty chuckle from San. The sheet completely slipped off you— rather, San pulled it off— and his hands moved to your thighs. They went from the back of your thigh to the inside, his fingers rubbing against your labia and clit over and over again. You couldn’t tell if you were wet because of the oil or because he was turning you on, but the one thing you knew for certain was that you felt the tension in your pussy build exponentially.

You gasped loudly when San’s fingers pressed into you ever so slightly, the tips of his fingernails grazing the inside of your pussy.

“You doing okay?” San asked, his voice reaching a teasing tone.

“Uh-huh,” you nearly moaned.

“So is it okay if I continue?”

“Mmhmm,” you responded, desperately needing him to help you reach your climax.

“Then flip over for me.”

San moved away from you, allowing you to turn so that you were now face up. He placed your arms and legs accordingly to assist with his massage, which meant your arms were pinned to the sides of you, and your legs were spread wide open, nearly dangling off the edges of the table. Before he resumed the massage, he poured more oil onto your body. You watched through narrowed, bleary eyes as he kept a stoic face while completely covering you with the warm oil until the bottle itself was completely empty.

The feeling of the warm oil hitting your bare skin was electrifying, and it only got better as he continued the massage. He first focused on your hip joints, your pussy still impatiently throbbing for him to satisfy you. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back as his hand neared your crotch once more, his fingers rubbing along the sides of your pussy once again while his other hand massaged your breast and played with your nipple.

Then, he drew circles over your clit. The circles started slowly at first, but they gradually sped up. Moans tumbled out of your mouth as your hands reached to push San’s away, but he had no intention of letting you interrupt his flow. He positioned himself so that no matter how you grabbed his arm to pull his fingers away from you, there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

The combination of him rubbing circles on your nipple and clit was too much for you, but you had yet to hit your climax. That was when San trapped your clit between his two fingers and rubbed vigorously, making you cum within seconds. You did your best to keep your cries of pleasure on the quiet side, but that was just not happening when San fingers slipped inside you.

“Wait, San! Ah!” you cried out as his thick fingers rushed in and out of you.

He barely gave you time to recover from your first climax, and with the added element of San’s fingers curled inside you as he pushed them in, you barely had time to resist cumming once again. You held onto San’s wrist with both of your hands, your arms weak from the pleasure. This time, you moaned loudly as you flung your head back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy. You prayed that San wouldn’t continue with this spectacular massage of his, and your prayers were answered. After you came the second time, San moved away from the table and grabbed a couple of towels for you and him.

“Your session is over,” San said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “However, if you would like to extend, I’d be happy to continue with the service when I get off of work.”

Despite cumming twice within the session, you wanted more from him. You nodded, your face still flushed, your words not formulating properly, and your eyes unable to maintain eye contact with him.

“I get off my shift in thirty minutes. Wait for me in the parking lot.”

San left the room, allowing you to wipe down yourself completely, dress, and head to the parking lot. You did as he instructed and waited for him in the parking lot, anxiety starting to prick at your skin. He got off his shift right as he said he would. He walked to his car and unlocked the doors. He opened the passenger’s side door and watched you fully sit inside before closing the door on your behalf and getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive was silent. This was the first time you had ever been with your massage therapist outside of the workplace, which made you realize that you practically knew nothing about the man other than some of his hobbies and daily activities— very surface level stuff. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him any questions; the sexual tension was heavy, and it felt like you were choking on it.

You arrived at San’s place. You walked into his apartment timidly, completely self-conscious about the fact that he was right in front you. He led you to his bedroom where you stood awkwardly as he disappeared into his closet. He emerged bearing a soft, plush robe. He handed it to you as he said in a low, quiet voice, “Go take a shower. You still need to wash the oil off.”

“Right,” you nodded and accepted the robe.

“You can leave your clothes in the bathroom for now. When you’re done, come back into my bedroom.”

Acknowledging what he said, you went into his bathroom and did as he asked. Your mind was in a daze as you cleaned the oil off your body to the best of your ability. The evening had moved so fast that you didn’t even know exactly how you got to be standing naked in San’s shower, and you even wondered if being there that night was even a good idea; but then, your mind flashed to how good the man in the other room made you feel, and you decided that being in his apartment was definitely going to be worth it. You quickly finished up in his bathroom shortly after that revelation. Wearing the robe, you left his bathroom and returned to his bedroom, where he was standing by the foot of his bed. He had changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white tank top. You felt your body heat up and your face burn upon seeing him.

“Did you wash everything off, Y/N?” San asked you as he turned his entire body to face you.

“To the best of my ability.”

“Hmm, let’s check then. Lie here.”

San gestured to the side of the bed he was standing near. You walked slowly towards him before sitting then lying on the bed face up. Before getting on the bed himself, San dimmed the lights in his room. He trapped your waist between his knees, his face hovering above yours as he brushed your hair away from your face. His fingers wiped the side of your neck as if he was actually searching for any missed spots, but it was definitely a ruse— his fingers trailed down the side of your neck across your collarbones and down the center of your chest. His hand slipped under the robe and began to feel up your breast. You tilted your head to the side, squeezed your eyes shut, and whimpered as you felt San’s other hand hold your waist tightly. You couldn’t help but yelp when San ran his finger over your nipple and began to play with your nipple.

Your hands clutched the bedsheets as if you were holding on for dear life, and your legs were pressed together as you felt your pussy get wetter with every passing second. Your eyes went wide open when San moved one end of the robe away from your breast, his lips planting on your nipple instantly. Your whole body lurched as he sucked painfully hard, his tongue flicking your nipple. He still had his hand on your breast, which he squeezed as he continued to lick and suck, nearly driving you crazy. Your eyes were shut once more as you flung your head back to fully experience this newfound ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt his lips and hand release your breast. You watched his chest heave with every deep breath he took. Your heart fluttered as that broad chest of his lowered so that it was nearly pressed against yours. He tilted your chin so that you were forced to make eye contact with him, and you felt yourself get turned on all over again. His lips parted momentarily, as if he wanted to say something or ask you a question, but he settled for running his tongue over his lower lip before bringing his lips to meet yours.

San’s lips were sweet and warm, but his kiss was rough and hot. Your hands found his forearms and held onto them tightly as you pushed yourself further into his amazingly intense kiss. His lips were magnetic. When the kiss ended, you wanted to return to him so quickly, but he instead sat up. He had the most intense and sultry look on his face as he gazed at you.

It was only when San took his tank top off did you realize how muscular he was. Sure, you saw his biceps and triceps when you first laid eyes on him in the tank top, but you weren’t thinking about what his body looked like underneath. He remained upright as he tossed the top to the ground. You could barely count the number of abs you could see on him in the faint light, and before you could figure out the number, he took your hands in his and neared you once more. He placed your hands so that they were on the back of his neck.

“Keep your hands right there, okay?”

You nodded. You were expecting him to kiss you again, so it completely took you by surprise when his fingers untied your robe and pushed it aside, his hands forcing you to spread your legs. He rubbed your pussy lightly before checking his fingers, his tongue running along the tips of his fingers to taste. You desperately wanted to cover your red hot face in embarrassment, but you did as San told and kept your hands firmly planted on the back of his neck.

“You did a good job cleaning yourself up,” he told you, a slight smirk appearing on his face.

San lowered himself and placed his lips right by your ear, his hand returning to rubbing your pussy. You let out little erotic gasps as San’s thumb pushed lightly into you as he rubbed. You moved your head towards his, your hand slipping from his neck to his cheek. You guided him gently to kiss you as his fingers continued to make your pussy wetter.

It was when San let out impatient grunts did you begin to feel a little restless. You desperately wanted something in you whether it be his fingers or his cock, and you knew that he was reaching his limit; so, you moved your hand down to his waist and cupped his crotch, the bulge in his pants immediately getting bigger. San’s breathing hitched as he moaned your name.

Without a second to lose, San stripped himself down completely before ripping the robe off of you. You were both completely naked, and while San had seen you naked plenty of times in the past, this was the first time you ever saw him in his entirety. You couldn’t really gauge how big he was when you felt him up just moments before, so you certainly were not expecting to see a massive weapon at his disposal. Reaching towards his nightstand, San grabbed a condom and swiftly rolled it on. His hands reached for your waist and pulled you towards him gently, his lips near your neck as the tip of his dick pressed lightly against your entrance.

“Breathe in,” San whispered as if you were lying on the massage table.

You took a deep breath in, and when you exhaled, San pushed his way into you. Your exhale turned into a loud cry, your hands automatically reaching for his neck once again. You held him close to you as he began to move, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt his length reach all the way inside you and his girth stretch you out completely.

San’s thrusts slowly sped up. He was being rather gentle with you, which at first made you want to demand more from him, but when he slammed his pelvis into yours, you decided to keep your mouth shut— he was incredibly strong and big, so him being gentle was a courtesy. Loud moans left your lips as he continued to speed up, the bed underneath the two of you slightly squeaking as his fully body force moved the mattress upwards, your eyes still glued shut.

“Y/N, look at me,” San said with a rough grunt.

You blinked a couple of tears out of your eyes as you barely made eye contact with San. He wiped the tears from the corner of your eye, his other hand still firmly grasping your waist. You felt time come to a standstill when you stared into San’s deep, beautiful eyes. Just looking into your eyes was enough for him; San let out a deep shuddering sigh as he slammed into your waist loudly, his dick quivering inside you. Seeing San bite his lower lip as he came made you cum as well, a whimper leaving you as your cries of pleasure died down.

Silently, San got off his bed. He removed the condom, tied it up, and threw it away before joining you on the bed again. He laid down right next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and bringing you closer to him. You pressed your ear against his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart as the two of you calmed down.

“How was that for you?”

“Heavenly… But San, I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

You both leaned away from each other so you could see your faces as you conversed. You unconsciously rubbed your knee against his dick, causing him to flinch and pull away from you a little bit more; you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“Why?” You asked him your question.

“Why what?”

“Why did you sleep with me?”

“Because I wanted to,” San said matter-of-factly.

“But why me?”

San let out a light exhale. His fingers brushed past your ear as he cupped your face gently and brought your face the slightest bit closer to him.

“I thought you were cute from the moment I first saw you last year, Y/N. Then, I thought you were incredibly sexy the second I saw your body.”

“You’re lying,” you said with a scoff.

“No, I’m not. Every session is always difficult for me because I always wanted to do unspeakable things to you. You know, I don’t do skin-to-skin contact with any of my other clients. Only you.”

You went silent upon hearing this confession from him. You felt your heart rate go up the tiniest bit while you asked quietly, “You really like me that much?”

“Yes, I really like you that much, Y/N.”

“So then why now of all times?”

“I finally broke today because, like you said, it’s our one year anniversary. Happy anniversary,” San stated simply as if the two of you were celebrating a romantic anniversary.

He kissed the top of your head and hugged you closer, his bare skin making yours feel fiery hot. You also felt him get incredibly turned on as his waist pressed into yours, his hips rotating slightly as he pushed himself closer to you.

“Let’s go again,” you told him, your lips right at his ear, causing him to shiver.

San pulled you on top of him in an instant, your knees on either side of his waist. He had a breathtaking smile on his face before and after you left a sweet kiss on his lips that made your heart flutter even more. He held your waist as he nodded and said, “Again.”

[makeyoumine69]

Blood Sweat & Tears

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: It doesn't matter how far this man can go. You are ready to surrender to his possession because you are his obedient little girl.

— WARNINGS: Period sex, hurt/comfort, blood kink, oral (f), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, possessive behavior, body worship, hand jobs, marking, teasing, dirty talk, Praise kink, Mild Degradation kink, pet names, dumbification.

— WORDCOUNT: 4k

— A/N: Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it! Many thanks for an amazing GIF by @nikolatexla!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [support]

It was a busy day at the Bellagio, the most famous and well regarded casino in Las Vegas. Shamelessly, rich people gambled here and there, not caring how much money they would win or lose. The chin-chin of the glasses mingled with the flirtatious laughter of beautiful girls whose short dresses were too seductive and all the guys around couldn't hide their hungry eyes.

Patrick Bateman loved to play roulette, it was his favourite gambling game. With a smug look on his face, he sat near the table, smoking an expensive cigar and holding you possessively by your waist as you rested on his lap.

With a haughty grin, Patrick took a chip and brought it to your lips. "Come on, darling. Blow on it."

"Do you think it will bring you luck?" You asked, a little skeptical, but did what he wanted nonetheless.

"I always feel so lucky when you're around." He winked at you, giving your bum a light pinch that made you giggle in embarrassment. "Let's see what we got."

Although you didn't know the exact denomination of the chips, you were sure that it wasn't cheap, so you  got nervous when the roulette began to spin. Your eyes followed the small ball as it spun around in circles, and when the ball stopped in the red 7 slot, you heard Bateman's happy voice:

"YES, BABY!" He smooched your cheek before clapping his hands and urging you on: "Always bet on red, honey. Always."

"Wow," you smiled at him and took a sip of champagne, when suddenly you felt his big palm cupping your butt. "Hey, gentleman. Watch your hands!"

"Or what?" Patrick chuckled, pulling you closer as he puffed on his cigar. "I'm on a roll today, sweetheart. You know what that means?"

For a moment, you just stared into his hazel, magnetic eyes, and when he noticed your intense gaze, Bateman beckoned you closer so he could blow rings of smoke right against your half-open lips. 

"God, you're so beautiful," Patrick murmured, stroking your chin and tilting your head to the side to admire the view. "My lucky charm."

Oh, Bateman could be such a sweet talker sometimes.

Rolling your eyes, you let him cover your lips with his plush ones, but when his wet tongue began to explore your mouth, you heard someone's irritated voice:

"Hey, young people, this is a casino, not a brothel, maybe you need help getting yourselves a room?"

You and Patrick immediately turned in the direction of the owner of the voice to see an old man smoking a cigar of the same brand as Bateman's. When he noticed this he became even angrier.

With an arrogant grin, Patrick puffed on his cigar and growled through clenched teeth: "Maybe you need help keeping your mouth shut?"

"Patrick!" You tried to calm him down, but he just shook his finger at you before turning back to the stranger.

"I'm enjoying my girl, and you don't have one, maybe that's your fucking problem?" 

"Take it easy, gentlemen." One of the securities warned as he came across your table. "Otherwise I'll have to escort you out."

"You should throw these two idiots out for indecent behaviour!" The old man continued to inflame the conflict, causing Bateman to clench his fists and making you fear that he would crush the man's skull. 

"Patrick, don't!" You lean on his broad shoulders, fumbling with the soft fabric of his pinstriped jacket. "We're leaving soon anyway!"

"You're just an old faggot whose destiny is to jerk off for the rest of your miserable life!" Bateman spat in the old man's face.

The growing tension between them was starting to really concern you, so you pressed a hand to your temple nervously, feeling the vein pulsate under your touch.

"Enough, please!" You didn't give up trying to cool this argument down, but the situation seemed to finally get out of control when the man got up from his seat and rushed towards you. "Patrick, NO!"

Shocked, you saw your beloved  standing in front of you, instinctively trying to cover you as your safety was his number one priority. In the next second, a tall security guard came between Patrick and the old man, shouting:

"HEY! CALM DOWN!"

"YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!" The stranger yelped and tried to hit Bateman, and that was his biggest mistake, because the next moment Patrick's firm fist slammed into his confused face like in a slow motion film.

Frightened, you hysterically put a hand over your mouth, suddenly becoming hyper aware of your heart pounding painfully against your chest. "Stop! Please!" You repeated over and over, ignoring the sharp pain that coursed through your lower body. Anything you said was useless at this point, so you just gasped and blurted out: "I'm leaving!"

Biting your lower lip nervously, you spun around and made your way through the countless tables towards the exit, trying to ignore the curious eyes that only left you when you finally made it to the hallway.

Only then did you hear Bateman's worried voice as he rushed down the stairs after you:

"(Y/N), baby! WAIT!"

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you kept moving, stifling a sharp gasp. It was only a matter of seconds before he caught you in his strong arms, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, you couldn't. So you stopped and looked at him as he gently cupped your face.

"Darling, I'm sorry it turned out like this! But that bastard, he—"

"You could just have ignored him!" You interrupted and tried to move away, but his firm grip didn't allow it.

"He dared to say something when I was just enjoying the night with my lovely girl, how could I just ignore him?" Patrick tried to peck you on the nose, but you turned away. "Oh, come on, don't be like that! What can I do to make up for this little accident?"

"Just take me to the hotel, please," you breathed out and he finally let go of you. "I don't feel well, Patrick."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious." You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling the unpleasant tingling again. "Just a little headache from the stress, you know?"

Bateman sighed deeply, feeling a little sad. It was probably the first time in his life that he actually felt guilty.

Later, you found yourself crying on the large balcony of your shared hotel room, and even the amazing view of Vegas at night didn't help.

Just as you were about to return to the living room, you heard the door slide open and saw Patrick's slightly grumpy face. 

"I've been waiting for you for almost 20 minutes, are you OK?" His sudden question took you by surprise.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine! I was just... I was just admiring the view."

"Aha, and the view is so fascinating that it made you cry?" Bateman stepped closer to you without breaking eye contact. "Don't try to fool me, darling. What happened?"

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, but when his warm, large palm touched your cheek to wipe away your shimmering tears, you nuzzled into it, because it was exactly what you needed right now.

"Patrick, you scared me, I was so nervous that..." You hiccupped and swallowed your tears.

"That I was going to kill that guy?" He chuckled a bit strangely.

"WHAT?!" You gave him a confused look. "No! I was afraid he would hurt—"

"You?" He interrupted, caressing the back of your neck to calm down your nerves. "Darling, no one will ever touch you with a finger. I've told you so many times and—"

"Stop! It's not about me! It's about you!"

Patrick narrowed his eyes and frowned a little in confusion. "What do you mean? My behaviour scared you?"

"I was afraid for you, Patrick!" You blurted out, salty tears running down your cheeks again.

A shadow of disbelief crept across his perfect face. "You were afraid for me?" He repeated, chuckling. "'Sweetheart, you—"

"No! Don't say anything!"

"Shhh." Patrick murmured in your ear, stroking your shoulders gently. "It's OK, love. It's okay." His reassuring tone and warm embrace comforted you, but you secretly wished for more. 

"Patrick…" You gasped as he suddenly attacked your neck as if he could read your mind. "Just... don't do that again."

Bateman only whispered some romantic nonsense, his strong hands were already groping your bum, and you instinctively arched your back towards him for closer contact. Possessively, he left a noticeable red mark on your cleavage, and when he heard your obscene moan, Patrick couldn't help but grin and mutter under his breath:

"Mmhm… what a naughty little kitten." A long lick across your cheek and then a sensitive bite on your throat made you squirm, but he held you tight. "I want to fuck you right here."

"Pat!" A muffled whimper escaped your shaky throat as he pressed you against the balcony railing and spread your legs with his knee. "Wait!" 

Only after kissing you hard on the lips did he stopped and allowed you to speak.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, giving you his most seductive glance.

"We can't do this," you were a little afraid of his reaction, but you decided to be honest with him, just like he asked you to the other day. "I'm... I'm on my period right now."

You lowered your eyes as you said this, but he immediately lifted your face by the chin and made you look at him. "Baby, I'm absolutely fine with that."

"But..." You tried to protest, feeling a stabbing pain in your lower body. "I don't know if I'm okay with this...

Patrick snickered and traced a finger along your slightly wet cheekbone. "I can ease your pain," he pecked at your temple, then moved down to the sensitive area around your ear and mused. "If you let me. Will you let me take care of you?"

Trembling, you clung to the railing behind you to cope with the rapidity of your heartbeat. "Right here? Are y-you sure? What if someone sees us?"

Amused by your innocence, Bateman shook his head quickly and looked at you from hair to toe. "Then they are lucky to see such beauty like you. Now open your legs for me, sweetheart."

Damn, the power this man had over you was overwhelming. 

Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against the railing and did as he asked, pulling up your black skimpy dress. 

"Fuck, I love it when you're so obedient," Patrick licked his lips briefly as he looked shamelessly at your mound. "I love everything about you, actually."

What a devil. So smug, but insanely hot.

With a sly grin, Bateman knelt beside you, and the next moment you had to stifle a nervous sigh as you felt his plush, warm lips on your leg. Inch by inch he worked his way up to your thigh, looking at you from below, his brown eyes glowing brighter than the Sun itself. Gulping, you tried your best to relax, but when he was about to push your panties aside, you stopped him with a nervous sigh.

"Sorry, I can't!" 

"(Y/N), dear," You could feel how needy he was when he cupped your thigh, nuzzling against it and planting little kisses. "Just let it go. I got you."

Although he allowed you to close your legs, his large palm was still between them, ready to slip under your underwear at any moment.

"Don't you trust me?" His sudden question made you lose orientation in space.

"Yes! Of course I do!" You said without hesitation, running your fingers through his coiffed hair, making it slightly dishevelled. "I just don't feel comfortable with it…" 

You expected him to be angry at your refusal, but instead he just planted a sloppy kiss on your pubic bone. Then he grinned at how cute you sounded when he did things like that.

"What can I do to make you more comfortable?" His slightly pushy tone sent shivers down your spine.

Humming to yourself, you paused for a moment to consider his words, doubting that he would back down from his urge to fuck you. It seemed like not even your periods could stop him.

"Can we do it in the shower…?" You asked and saw his smile widen. "But first, I need some time to myself."

"You can have all the time in the world, darling." Patrick pinched your ass before adding: "But only until I get bored."

You didn't say anything back because you knew it was rather unreal to outsmart him in his own game. Carefully, he stood up and watched you go out from the balcony, and the look he gave you when you decided to turn around was so fucking savage.

In the shower, you closed your eyes from the soothing sensation of the warm streams of water outlining the curves of your beautiful body. Damn, it was so relaxing that you didn't even notice Bateman standing in the doorway, admiring the view and undressing lazily, unable to avert his hungry gaze.

"Mmm, what a view." He sneered in a raspy voice, and you immediately turned around to see him completely naked.

Swallowing hard, you watched his cock bob every time he moved, it was huge and veined, it sent shivers down your spine, it made your inner walls clench around nothing. You found yourself trapped in a cage with a wild beast when he joined you, because now you couldn't run away.

Patrick closed the distance between you a little too quickly, causing a loud wail to escape your mouth. He kissed you roughly, consuming all the little pathetic sounds you made, especially when his sneaky hand slid down your belly to your juicy pussy.

"Mmhm!" You murmured in the kiss as his tongue playfully teased yours, his strong arms were wrapped around you like tight ropes.

"Baby," He exhaled through his inflamed nostrils from how fucking hard he was. "You smell so good."

"I love you." It was all you managed to say, and these three words were enough to make him growl in ecstasy.

And then you had no choice but to claw at your own palm as the sensation of his strong tongue drawing invisible ornaments along your abdomen was too much to bear. Bateman knew it before you even tried to pull away, so he gripped your ass as tightly as he could, forcing you to open up for him. The moment his mouth locked onto your swollen clit, you seemed to stop breathing and lose your ability to speak. Patrick made a guttural sound from the taste of your flavour mixed with your blood, so he continued to suck on your sensitive bud with his eyes closed. 

"Ahhmm, Patty!" You were now literally sprawled against the wall of the shower, your hands desperately sliding along it in search of support.

"Mmmm, I can eat that pussy forever." He said briefly before draping your leg over his broad shoulder for better access to your soaped slit.

For a brief moment Patrick looked longingly into your eyes and stroked your inner thigh before he suddenly thrust his pulsating tongue into your hot, feverish cleft, and that sensation was wholesomely mind-blowing.

"OH MY GOSH! OHH MY G-GOSH!" Your loud scream surely could be heard from outside the hotel room, but you didn't care. "Pat-Patrick!"

The running water drowned out the dirty slurping sounds Bateman was making as he devoured your sweet little pussy, along with his wild growls, which you could barely hear, but they sounded so fucking animalistic. At one point, you found yourself balancing on the edge as his tongue played with your throbbing tip, and it felt almost electric. You grabbed his head and brought it even closer to your pulsating pussy, moaning lewdly.

"Mhmm— yeah, give me more…" He grunted before cooing at you. "Such a needy girl... your voice is so sweet, just like your tight little hole."

You were about to pass out from the sheer overstimulation when he began to lick your cunt more and more fiercely with each second, pumping his thick cock all the while. And not to mention the mind-numbing view when you dared to look down to see his handsome lower face smeared in a little bit of your blood.

"Please, t-this is too much!" You almost screamed, feeling your legs getting weak. "Mmmm— my GOD, I'mma cum, I'mma cummm!"

Patrick chuckled softly before letting the surging lust overtake his mind, and before he even realized, his thin fingers were already inside your clenching pussy, bringing you to one of the most intense orgasms you have ever had, all that while he continued to swirl his tongue around your clit.

"Ahhhh! Patrick— mmhm!" You clung to his shoulder and nearly broke in half from the violent tremors on your body.

"Just like that, darling. Keep showing me how good I make you feel." Bateman mumbled, licking your blood from his lips as his fingers kept stimulating you to prolong your climax. "Good girl!"

Dazed, you almost slipped down the wall, but he caught you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. The metallic taste on your lips made you moan into his mouth, and he used that moment to grab your hand and wrap it around his cock, forcing you to stroke it at a steady pace.

"Feeling better, babe?" He towered over you, his hands resting on the wall on either sides of you.

"Yes..." You closed your eyes because you couldn't bear the way he looked at you; his devilish and slightly mocking grin humiliated you. "Thank you, Patrick."

"Fucking hell. You're so sweet and innocent." Bateman couldn't hold back a laugh, but then he moaned, his dick throbbing in your grasp. "C'mere, honey."

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, just lifted you up with ease and opened the shower door. Everything that happened next was so intense that it reminded you of some of your wild dreams that you always kept as a secret from Patrick, but after the events of that night, you would probably tell him about them.

Breathing heavily, you lay on the pile of white towels that Patrick had dropped on the floor to make you more comfortable, as he was going to fuck all the pain out of you. With no hurry, Bateman kneeled down in front of your open legs, then placed them on his shoulders and kissed your ankles.

"I hope you remember that I love you too." He sneered suddenly as he pushed himself inside you. "My little girl... mmm-mine, only mine!"

A slow thrust, then another, but deeper. 

"P-Patrick!" You sobbed as he pulled you up a bit to pound you harder, rolling his toned hips against yours, and it felt so fucking good. "Kiss me! Aww... please, please, p-please!"

Patrick could swear he was about to lose it right now, but he gathered all his will into a fist and tried his best not to cum just from seeing you so vulnerable and ruined beneath him. Damn, you were whimpering so loudly and so pathetically from the way his beefy cock was brushing against your soft inner walls, that he had to hang over you and shush you with his mouth.

"Argh... is this too much for you already?" Bateman looked down at where your bodies were connected — the blood on his cock was driving him crazy, but he couldn't stop mocking you. "Do you want me to stop?"

Fucking bastard!

"N-no! Don't... awwww!" You stammered when he nibbled at your neck, thrusting hard and deep into your dripping womb. "Don't stop!"

"Holy fuck, you're nasty!" He murmured into your ear before tonguing it. 

As soon as Patrick hugged your shoulders and put a hand under your head, you hid your face in the nape of his neck and shrieked as his pounding became faster and sloppier. Your sweaty bodies slapped against each other, filling the bathroom with vicious sounds, and there was nothing left for you to do but wrap your legs around his loin, drowning in an ocean of pleasure every time the tip of his dick hit your cervix.

"A-awwww! Pat...mmm-Patrick!" You whimpered against his bloody lips as he lowered himself to kiss you.

Bateman growled into your mouth when you cupped his toned ass, encouraging him to go deeper, so he settled on his knees to fuck you hard into the floor with his full weight.

"Mmmhm… your pussy is clinging to my dick so greedily! F-fuck!" His hoarse voice only added fuel to the fire, you could feel the pulsing tension in your lower abdomen again.

"Pat..." You stammered as your legs started to shake. "Patrick-mmhm ahhh!"

"What?"

"C-cum… cum inside me..."

Patrick laughed before he gave you several  deep strokes, pressing you closer to his body and enjoying the way you moaned under his massive muscles. "Ask me nicely, baby." 

"P-please!" 

"What are you mumbling?" He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, while his other hand was buried in your hair.

"I want your c-cream, ahhh… PLEASE! Fill me up until I… I'm so full! I BEG YOU!" You were on the verge of tears, your trembling little form was ready to explode in the next vivid orgasm.

Grinning, Patrick clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Jeez, you're such a slutty girl, begging me to fill your tight hole with my cum... mmhm... today's your lucky day..."

With a low growl, Bateman suddenly pulled out of you and turned you on your side, bending your legs and pressing them together. Feeling dizzy, you didn't even want to look at him, knowing you couldn't bear how fucking savage he looked now, the sight of his huge dick covered in your blood awakening something absolutely primal in him.

"Don't you dare beg for mercy, bitch." He blurted out through his gritted teeth as he thrust into your abused cunt once more.

You had to cover your mouth with one hand as his muscular hips slammed into your fragile frame. Moaning, Patrick pinned you in place, gripping your ass and thigh, and doing his best to make the tension on your cervix unbearable. You bit your finger as you arched your back, convulsing from the multiple waves of pleasure that seemed to pierce through each pitch of your body. Patrick didn't stop drilling into your feverish slit, enjoying how dumb you looked with your eyes rolled back in your head.

"Look at you!" He snarled as his dick throbbed from the overwhelming sensation of your clenching pussy. "S-so fucking overwhelmed, mmhhm!" Bateman paused again, throwing his head back and growling loudly as he finally allowed himself to peak. "Arghhh, FUCK!"

Bateman was absolutely brutal with the way he dug his fingers into your soft skin. Later there would be bruises for sure, but at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care as the feeling of his warm seed spilling into you became the final drop for your mind to collapse. 

By the time Patrick stopped moving, you were completely numb. When you tried to move, you felt his dense cum flowing down your hips. You didn't even tried to resist when he possessively spread your legs to smeared the mixture of his cream and your blood all over your mound before hanging over you and making you suck on his fingers. Closing your eyes, you moaned at the salty taste and cleaned his digits with your tongue.  No matter how far he could go, you would submit because you trusted him. 

"Good girl." Bateman purred after you finished licking his fingers. He then pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Why didn't we do this before?"

"Don't even ask." You laughed, looking up at his flushed face.

"I'm not going to leave it like this, darling." He covered your mouth with his, moaning softly at the taste of himself on your lips. "From now on I'm going to have a calendar of your cycle because I enjoyed this too much."

Holly shit.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - Epilogue | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: This isn't the end, rather it is just the beginning of the rest of your life.

Notes: All right everyone, this is it. I can't believe this story is over, I am so happy I took the plunge and started to post online. This experience has been wonderful and you all have been amazing. Thank you to everyone who commented, liked or reblogged this story you guys helped me so much when I thought about giving up. If ever anyone wants more content from this universe I'd be more than happy to answer any prompts or asks. Now I am unto my Joel Miller x reader fic, I know a bunch of you want to be tagged and I am working on figuring out how :D

Hope you all enjoy this last chapter and in the meantime, take care of yourselves and I love you all very much xoxox

Family

"Here you go, a large sparkling water with three slices of lemon. You know I would've made a lemonade if you wanted; it would probably taste better than that stuff. Smells sour as hell." Will puts the large glass on the small table next to the pool lounge chair. You smile over your sunglasses.

"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it," you express with gratitude. "Lemonade is just too sweet, these days only something that packs a good sour punch can even begin to curb my cravings. I think that if I send Frankie on another midnight hunt for Warheads, he might just end up moving back in with Alma," you add playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you speak, you pluck one of the large lemon slices off the glass and eagerly sink your teeth into the tangy, bitter flesh, savouring the burst of sour flavour hitting your tongue.

Will scrunches his nose. "Fish told me he saw you put a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids in your vanilla milkshake last week. Anything else we gotta be worried about, except for major heartburns and fried taste buds?" Will teases. You playfully put one of your hands on your taut round stomach. "Gotta keep the little one happy, and he insists that a milkshake with Sour Patch Kids is the breakfast of champions." Will smiles, trying to hide his amusement. "Hope you're still getting all of your food groups, though." You roll your eyes in jest. "My goodness, you're worse than Frankie. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing." Will raises his hands in surrender. "My apologies didn't mean to offend. I know you know what you're doing. I just want to make sure you're all right.” A pause, as pregnant as you are, emerges “Are you alright?"

A giddy smile makes its way to your face. "Better than ever. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Will. I am thriving," you exclaim as you shimmy your shoulders in a little up-and-down dance. Will softens at your little display. "I am glad, then. You know I am always there if you need anything, right?" "I know, Will. And thank you." You hum in response before a comfortable silence opens between you two as Will looks over to where his brother is trying his best to not burn the burgers under Pope’s disapproving glare.

You gasp as you feel your baby start kicking you as if there's a goddamn karate class going on near your ribcage. You hold your breath for a second, feeling the rhythmic movements, before the kicking recedes. You lovingly place your hand on your stomach, feeling the gentle flutter within. "Are you okay? Is anything hurting? Do I need to get Fish?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.

You let out a joyful laugh. "No, no, don't worry, it's all right. Don't bother Frankie; he seems very focused on his task at hand." With a playful gesture, you wave your hand in Frankie's direction, where he's holding a not-so-little Ella just above the water, teaching her the proper way to kick her small pudgy legs to stay afloat. Despite being just over 3 years old, Ella is more interested in gleefully splashing her papa with water kicks than learning any of the supposed swimming techniques. Frankie, however, looks absolutely delighted, and after a particularly vigorous splash to his face, he playfully plunges Ella with him underwater. When they resurface, Ella is screeching with excitement, her tiny fists reaching out to grab her father.

Both you and Will can't help but laugh at the adorable display, shaking your heads with fondness. You return your attention to your growing bump and softly caress it. "When I was pregnant with Ella, she was the calmest little baby around. It all changed when she was born; then she turned into a little tornado," you reminisce, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I hope that since this little one enjoys using my bladder as his personal trampoline and keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, it means he'll be a little ray of sunshine after he is born."

You feel another kick, causing you to huff in response. Your eyes shift to Will, who looks amazed by your side, and you can't help but smile. "You want to feel it?" you ask, noticing Will's uncertainty and the hesitation in his eyes. "Come on, I'm sure he's excited to meet his uncle." Seeing him struggle a bit more, you take matters into your own hands, guiding one of Will's hands decisively to your round, 6-month bump.

You both wait with bated breath, but it's not long before your little karate champion makes himself known. "Woah, that's insane! Does it hurt a lot?" "It's uncomfortable, but nothing that I can't handle." Honestly, you love how rambunctious your little baby boy is. Since you started feeling him, some of your best memories were you sitting on the couch with Frankie's hand sprawled over your taut stomach and Ella sitting in your lap, talking to her soon-to-be baby brother.

"It's been great, magical really. Couldn't ask for anything better." You gulp the last of your sparkling water and suck another lemon slice into your mouth while Will shakes his head affectionately. "I am glad to hear it. We were all a bit worried when you two announced this new baby. I guess we were a bit scared Frankie was going to fall back into... old destructive habits. But I guess we were worried for nothing." Will gulps from his beer, while you munch on your slice of sour heaven.

"I was worried too, don't get me wrong," you admit, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "Those first few weeks, I was so afraid Will. Couldn’t keep my eyes from Frankie, I hovered like one of his helicopters, like I already condemned him you know. God, I could barely sleep. But now, looking back, I realize that we were all worried for nothing."

You pause for a moment, a sense of pride evident in your words. "It's going to be three years in two months, you know. Three years of sobriety." A spark of excitement lights up your eyes as you share your plans. "I'm planning a pretty big party to celebrate, so you and Ben better clear your schedules for late May," you say playfully, wagging your finger in front of Will's face, reminiscent of a mom giving orders to her child. Will responds with a smile, placing his hand over his heart in a salute stance. "Roger that," he affirms seriously.

You smile, relishing in the tranquillity of the moment, before feeling a pair of wet arms envelop you from behind. An equally wet torso presses against your back, and you can't help but let out a playful screech as you try to wiggle your way out of the tight embrace. Your legs flail in the air as Frankie's nose nuzzles against your neck, eliciting a tickling sensation, and his hands dance across your side. You laugh so hard that tears fall down your eyes, while Will is laughing even harder at your predicament.

"Stop it, Frankie! You're getting me all wet!" You can feel Frankie's smile turn devious against your neck as he hikes up toward your ears and whispers low enough so that Will wouldn't hear. "That's not what you were saying last night when I was getting you wet. You were a bit louder, screaming my name for 'More, more, Frankie!'" He finishes his sentence in a shrill tone, a poor imitation of your voice. You swat him, feeling heat rushing to your body.

Will looks at both of you with a knowing smile before teasing you more. "You look overheated. Maybe you should lie down for a bit." "Shut up, Miller," you grumble. "I can't believe you two are ganging up on me!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry, mi cielo," Frankie begins, attempting to untangle his arms from your side, but you swiftly grab hold of him, keeping his arms right where they were. "Don't you dare, Morales," you assert, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Frankie responds with an affectionate eye roll, nudging your side in response. "Let me tell you, Will, pregnancy makes them hard to follow," he remarks, attempting to defend himself. You let out a displeased huff, not fully convinced. "Don't talk as if all women are a monolith," you retort.

"Sorry, you are right, mi cielo," Frankie says reverently, acknowledging your point. However, a mischievous glimmer dances in his eyes as he turns to face Will. "Pregnancy makes this one hard to follow," he playfully adds, eliciting laughter from all three of you. You let your head fall back onto Frankie's firm torso, playfully nipping at his jaw. "You shouldn't be mean to me. You know it's your baby who's been using me as his private target practice," you retort with a hint of mock indignation.

Frankie's expression softens as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. "You are right. Will my beautiful pregnant wife forgive me?" You respond with an exaggerated haughty tone, pretending to consider his plea. "Maybe, what do I get if I grant you leniency?"

"We could stop by Sonic after the BBQ, grab..." "Milkshake and Sour Patch Kids?!" You screech. "Forgiven, completely forgiven!" You exclaim excitedly. You hear Will laugh in front of you. "You two are a sight to see, making me believe in love and all that jazz." "What can I say? You won’t find a woman like my beautiful wife on every street corner. I gotta make sure that she is as happy as possible. Can't lose her, so if that means that everything in the house tastes like lemon or acid mouthwash, then so be it."

"Where is our little tornado?" you crane your neck trying to check your surrounding as you realize that Frankie came to see you alone. Frankie points back to the pool where she is getting thrown around by an overexcited Benny. It was a hard process to get Benny and Frankie's relationship back to what it used to be. Both men bruised, Frankie believing that Benny wanted to replace him in your and Ella's life, and Benny angry that Frankie would think so low of him.

It was only after you and Will had conspired to lock them in the Miller's basement for an entire day that things had begun to repair themselves. When you had come back with Will and opened the door, you had seen the two men sitting down, their backs against the hard concrete walls, and a bunch of beers littering the unfinished floor. You had scrunched up your nose, put your hands on your hips, and spoke in the same tone you used when Ella was misbehaving. "Are you two ready to get along, or do we need to lock you in overnight?" Will had stood behind you like a bouncer, ready to throw hands if necessary.

But in the end, both men had simply laughed and, clearly drunk, had held onto each other as they scrambled to their feet. The sight would have been rather pathetic if it wasn't for the laughter the two men were sharing. They assured you that they were the best of friends again before launching into a long-winded explanation, cutting each other off with "You know I would die for you, Ben" and "Nothing compares to you, Fish. You are the best man ever." All in all, it was a good result, one that you and Will were satisfied with. You had let the two men leave after getting them to promise that they would start getting along again, which led to another rant on promises, brotherhood, and love. So yeah, satisfied.

Now it was as if all those awkward months between the two men had never existed, and their bond was stronger than ever. Frankie didn't feel insecure that Benny was Ella's favourite uncle (although that changed every day and highly depended on who brought the biggest gift or the sweetest treat—today it was Benny with the new rendition of "Mermaid Barbie"). And Benny was just happy to be a part of your extended family of six.

Frankie tenderly strokes your belly, his touch filled with love and gratitude, before locking eyes with you. In that silent exchange, you offer him an encouraging nudge with your shoulder, urging him to speak his mind. Frankie coughs, trying to mask his nervousness, before finally gathering his words. "Actually, Will, there's something we wanted to ask you," he begins. Will nods, signalling for Frankie to continue. "You know how challenging these past couple of years have been, overcoming my struggles with drugs and everything. But through it all, you've been there for me. You've helped me immensely with the court case, my sobriety, and supporting the girls. I feel incredibly fortunate to have you as my brother, Will."

Touched by Frankie's words, Will's expression softens, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. "Fish, we're family. I'd move mountains to help you, and your work at the VA has been remarkable. The conferences you lead on addiction and recovery for veterans are making a real difference. I should be thanking you.” A tinge of embarrassment colours Frankie's cheeks, his friend's compliment catching him off guard. Ever since Frankie achieved sobriety and regained his piloting license, Will arranged for him to lead weekly conferences at the VA. Frankie would meet with a group and talk about his experience, the importance of speaking up and opening up, the importance of seeking help, and how it wasn't a failure to help yourself and be there for those you love. Frankie had flourished in this role, finding purpose and fulfillment.

"But really," Frankie continues, breaking through his momentary bashfulness, "I wouldn't be where I am today if you hadn't paved the way for me at the VA. For that, and for everything else, we want you to play a significant role in little Javi's life.”

Will frowns in incomprehension. "Well, I intended to be a part of Javi's life. You don't have to ask so formally." Will teases, while Frankie shakes his head. You come to the rescue, placing a comforting hand atop your husband's, resting on your growing belly.

“What Frankie is trying to ask, Will, is if you would consider becoming Javi's godfather." Will's eyes widen in surprise as if the notion is beyond his wildest expectations. "Me?! Godfather?! Shouldn't you be asking the Pope for something like that!?”

Frankie shakes his head, rejecting the suggestion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't be stupid, ironhead," he retorts. "Pope’s head is big enough as it is being Ella's godfather. And I don't want to inflate his ego any further. Besides, there's no one I'd rather have as my boy's godfather than you."

You see Will soften as tears well up in his eyes. "Thank you, Fish. That means... It means the world to hear that," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to live up to what you expect of me." You can't help but let out a playful snort, knowing all too well that his formal tone is a feeble attempt to conceal the depth of his feelings. Behind that stoic facade, Will is a big softie, and right now he is on the verge of dissolving into a puddle of tears.

Will clears his throat once again, and you notice tears glistening in the tall blond man's eyes. "I... Thank you, Fish... I... I have to tell Ben!" Will scrambles to his feet and exclaims loudly, "Ben, guess who's going to be the godfather!!!" The response is a shocked "WHAT?!" as you spot Ella attempting to use Benny's head as a trampoline. A snort escapes you as you relax against your husband's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. With your husband's strong presence behind you, your daughter happily playing with her uncles, and your baby boy safe and snug in your belly, you softly whisper, "I don't think it can get any better than this."

Frankie's gentle humming resonates behind you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your growing belly. You turn your head, a quizzical expression lighting up your features as you meet his gaze. A warm smile graces Frankie's lips before he leans in to plant a soft, tender kiss on yours.

"I wouldn't know," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. "Every day I spend with you is more wonderful than the last, mi cielo. I can only imagine how tomorrow will surpass even today." His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep feeling of being cherished and adored. One you only feel with Frankie.

You shift your body, the weight of your burgeoning belly making it a slight challenge, until you face Frankie, perched securely on his strong, muscular thighs. He holds you close, ensuring you won't slip, his touch providing both comfort and desire. You love how Frankie can make you feel safe and excited at the same time in an overpowering cocktail of desire and want. You press your lips against his, murmuring against his plump ones, "You have such a way with words, Mr. Morales, and I love you deeply." Frankie's smile blooms against your mouth, his affectionate gaze locked on yours.

"I also know how insatiable you've been lately, Mrs. Morales," he playfully remarks, allowing one hand to wander downwards, firmly grasping a handful of your soft, supple ass. He kneads and squeezes the plushness, igniting a delicious tingling sensation throughout your body. You tease him in response, slowly grinding against him, making sure that no one is looking at the pair of you.

"Ah, but I don't think I'm the only insatiable one here, my love," you whisper mischievously as you feel a bulge growing in Frankie’s swimming trunk. Frankie's breath catches in his throat. "Of course, how could I be anything but insatiable when my wife is out here looking like a goddamn dream." You roll your eyes. "Please, my belly is the size of a basketball, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have disappeared with how swollen they are." Frankie starts kissing your face all over, punctuating each kiss with an endearing word: "Beautiful. My. Beautiful. Girl. Never want anyone else." You feel yourself melt against him.

"OI!" Both you and Frankie turn your heads where Benny stands in the shallow end of the pool, Ella perched on his shoulder, her little hands covering her eyes. Benny's exasperated tone fills the air. "Can you save that for the bedroom, you animals? There are children around!”

"Pendejo," Frankie whispers under his breath, while you try to wiggle out of his grip and gather yourself in a more presentable position. But Frankie holds you where you are. "It's high time you find yourself a girlfriend if you need to get your rocks off looking at my wife and me!" Frankie screams back.

Benny gets all red and huffy, and you can hear some expletives being thrown your way. "Goddamn idiots... acting like high school kids... no shame... A girlfriend?! Idiots." In response, Ella swats him hard on the head where she is still resting and screeches, "LANGUAGE! Mama, 'cle BenBen said a no-no vord!" You smile. "Indeed he did, Estrelita. Looks like Uncle BenBen needs a little punishment!" Ella erupts into laughter, thoroughly amused by the prospect, while Benny's expression betrays a mix of fear and unsureness as Ella proceeds to sway back and forth on his shoulder screaming loudly about the bad language.

"You think we should rescue him?" Frankie asks. You consider the situation before responding with a noncommittal tone, "Nah, he's a big boy, he'll be fine.”

Frankie looks pensive for a second "Do you ever regret it?" he asks, his tone laced with vulnerability.

"Regret what?" you reply, genuinely puzzled by his inquiry.

Frankie's frown deepens, and he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts. "Taking me back. Starting again. No one would have blamed you if you had chosen to leave,” Frankie, for all the work he has been doing for the past three years, for all the individual and couple therapy he has attended, still sometimes feels like a scared little boy, yearning to be good enough for those he loves.

A soft smile graces your face as you gently stroke his cheek, your touch filled with reassurance. You guide his hands to rest on your taut stomach, emphasizing the life growing within. "There is no one I would rather be with than you, my love," you say tenderly. "Nowhere I would rather be than in your arms. You are everything to me—always have been and always will be.”

As Frankie's tears flow freely, his emotions cascading over him, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, seeking your warm solace and quiet reassurance that he is enough, that he is loved. Frankie’s voice quivers as he whispers, "I love you so much, Mi Cielo. Thank you for everything you have given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” A tender silence wraps around you both, allowing space for the weight of his words to settle between you. Frankie's murmurs against your collarbone provide comfort, his soft words acting as a balm to your souls. After a minute, Frankie's voice gently resurfaces. "The road ahead looks rather bright," he begins, his tone soft yet resolute, "and I can't wait to keep walking it with you."

Your smile widens, illuminating your face with pure joy as you savour the sweetness of Frankie's words. The road ahead does shine brightly, you think, as you tenderly place a kiss on Frankie's lips. And no matter how stormy it may become, as storms are inevitable on any journey, you are certain that you wouldn't walk it with anyone else by your side but your beloved Frankie. Like the sun and the sky, you are forever intertwined, destined to navigate the highs and lows together, casting light on each other's path.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie and as you feel another kick from your baby boy and feel Frankie screeches excitedly and he start talking to baby Javi (well to your belly) in quick Spanish, praising the to be born baby. And as you spot baby Ella trying her best to run after Will and Benny while Pope eggs her on you thnk back to when she could barely crawl around. Your hands join Frankie and you feel your heart swell with love and happiness, yes this is all that you’ve ever wanted.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie. As you feel another kick from your baby boy and hear Frankie's excited cheer, expressing his love and admiration, you can't help but smile. He speaks to baby Javi in Spanish, filled with warmth and anticipation, knowing that your family will soon be complete.

 Across the yard, you spot Ella as she playfully chases after Uncle Will and Benny. Surrounded by the warmth of your found family, you feel a deep sense of contentment. This is everything you've ever wanted—the love between you and Frankie, the growth and happiness of your children both here and yet to be born, the bonds of friendship that only strengthen over time. Holding Frankie's hand, you know that together you will continue to build a life filled with love, support, and countless moments of joy. This is the life you've always dreamed of, and it fills your heart to the brim with love. The road ahead is bright indeed.

[shyanshippingsociety]

Shyan Shipping Society - NY Fic Exchange 2024

hi everyone!

can you believe it's our fourth annual new years exchange? we had some amazing fics and art (hosted in our server!) and i can't wait to bring them all to you here! let's go!

CHECK OUT THE AO3 COLLECTION!

doll island by idkspookystuff | E, 3K, complete

So Shane clearly picked up something on the Island. Something that made him hot and sweaty and horny, apparently. It doesn’t sound like any spider venom Ryan’s ever heard of, or the signs of a demonic curse. Although, a curse- “Oh, fuck,” Ryan swears. it's 2016, shane & ryan are on the island of the dolls, and a demonic doll plays matchmaker

satan, you're a nerve-y one by icantturnthisthingoff | E, 1K, complete

After a series of unfortunate events, Ryan finds himself alone on New Years Eve wishing he had someone to keep him company Enter, Incubus Shane

The Sky In The Snow by Charmingwolf | T, 1K, complete

A group of backpackers stayed the night in an abandoned shed deep in the forest. In the dark, one was journaled their adventures until they felt the rumble of a massive creature just outside the thin walls. They looked out the window and saw a huge black thing with scales that twinkled like stars and huge fangs that dripped puddles of dark goo as it walked. That was all they got down before the creature attacked. It tore down the walls of the shed before killing the backpackers and dragging them into the crunchy frostbitten grass. That was 20 years ago. No one has seen the creature since. Ryan and the producers think it would make a great video to go hunting for the creature dubbed The Forest Hill Lizard.

one random night when everything changes by Artemis | E, 1K, complete

Ryan looks for Shane on New Year's Eve and finds more than just the person he was looking for that night. AKA Shane confesses his love for Ryan, they smooch, then they do something about it.

all in! by anonymous | T, 4K, complete

“I bet…," he starts, flashing a grin at Shane's flushed face. "you won’t kiss me on New Year’s Eve.” Ryan watches as Shane instantly runs the numbers on this, through whatever mental calculator he has in his brain. He imagines beeps and whirs, gears turning words into numbers. “Alright, Bergara,” he says, after a moment. Then, he slides his whole stack of chips sitting on the pool table and nods, slow and considering. “I’m all in.” OR: Ryan makes a bet. It escalates from there.

They Got Subway at 2 am by Charmingwolf | M, 1K, complete

After a very silly and kind of sexually charged shoot, Shane and Ryan explore each other's bodies like they have done many times before.

Given the Chance by PlatinumPussycat208 | E, 3K, complete

“It’s…I built a time machine.” Ryan and Shane blinked at each other. The other Shane and Ryan looked at one another, but stayed in the doorway quietly. “Fuck off, Steven. That’s not funny.” Shane’s voice was serious now. “No! I mean it!” Steven cried. “It’s how I’ve been keeping on top of everything here! It only goes back a little! It just gives me more time in the day!” Ryan barked out a laugh. “Oh my god…trust Steven to build a time machine to do more work.” - a fun, smutty fic for the SSS NY Exchange!

Scheming for a Smooch by Impala_Chick | T, 2K, complete

The boys both decide to make a move on each other with a New Year's kiss at midnight. Only problem is, they're both plotting to get a smooch and the other doesn't know it yet.

Their dynamic is... by tasty_littl_snack | G, 1K, complete

Food files from the cameraman's perspective.

With A Little Help From Our Friends by quackers | M, 3K, complete

Everyone thinks they know Ryan and Shane's secret. Everyone. They might be wrong.

thank you so much to all of the incredible creators who joined this event! happy 2024 from the sss mods! we have so many fun things planned so make sure you follow us here on tumblr or join the server so you don't miss out! we hope you had a great 2023 in our server/on our blog and we can't wait for you to continue having a great time in our server in 2024!

love you!

the mods

[sadienita]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Bang Chan & Reader (feat. Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin)

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Angst, Hurt / Comfort

Contents: mutual pining, nightmares & sleep paralysis, Swearing, Changbin swings the reader around

Notes: I really did start this as a comfort fic and somewhere along the line it got really angsty oops

A wide smile tugged at Chan’s lips as he threw open the door for you. You couldn’t help but match it, feeling relief at seeing him in front of you after such a long time, and such a tiring few weeks. You’d barely managed any sleep recently, too plagued by nightmares waking you every few hours. Sleeping in a new location for the weekend likely wouldn’t help but Chan liked to stay up late so maybe, just maybe, you’d stay up with him until you were so tired you simply just slept through the night for once.

Chan wrapped you in a tight hug, squeezing you against him. “I’ve missed you.” He mumbled.

“Missed you too, you dork,” you chuckled. “You’re too busy.”

“Well if you lived a little closer,” he countered.

You pulled back to meet his eye. “Touché.”

Chan chuckled at you, lingering just a moment longer with his arms around you before letting go and swooping down to grab your bag. You rolled your eyes as he ushered you into the apartment with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

“I can carry my own bags, Christopher.”  You snorted.

“And what sort of gentleman would let you carry your own bags?” He questioned.

“Who the fuck told you you were a gentleman?” Came a familiar voice with a laugh. You grinned as you turned towards the kitchen to find Hyunjin leaning against the island. You made your way to him quickly, wrapping him in a hug before he could protest.

“If it isn’t my favourite whore,” you cooed, pulling back just in time to catch his eyes rolling. 

“Still the same old bitch,” he replied before scrunching his nose. “I- I guess I- I kinda mis-”

“God no don’t say that,” you said quickly. 

“Thank fuck,” He sighed. “If I show you too much emotion I’m legally obligated to combust.” He moved towards the fridge while Chan came into the room, having dropped off your bags in the living room.

“Surprised you’re still standing,” you chuckled, feeling Chan come up behind you and wrap an arm around you in a way he knew he wasn’t supposed to. In a way you weren’t supposed to like. “You used to be so mushy.”

Hyunjin made a disgusted face. “Yeah well when I hit 18 I changed. The teen years were dark days.”

“Aww but you were so cute,” You cooed.

“You were,” Chan confirmed.

“He was a problem,” Jisung said, a smile crossing his lips as he entered the kitchen. He was quick to hug you, squeezing you tight.

“You were the problem,” Hyunjin muttered, placing a drink on the island for you. 

Jisung fully ignored him. “How're you?”

“Same old same old,” you hummed. “Just further away.”

Jisung pulled back. “I know your boss sucked but I still wish you’d stayed here.”

You pinched his cheek affectionately, watching Jisung pull back in disgust and chuckling. “I’m not that far.”

“You’re pretty far,” Hyunjin said.

“You’re too far,” Chan confirmed, pulling you away from Jisung just to coax another hug from you. You accepted it, letting him snuggle into you just a little before hearing footsteps pounding down the hallway. Chan let go of you and you turned just in time to see Changbin barreling at you into the kitchen. You screamed as he wrapped you up in his arms, using his momentum to spin you around in a tight hug. You gripped onto him for dear life, even once he slowed and set you down properly.

You kept a death grip on his shoulder as you tried to blink away the dizziness while the room still moved. “Good to see you, Binnie,” you mumbled.

“Back at ya,” He chuckled, making his way to the fridge like nothing of note had happened.

“Well, now that you’re thoroughly reacquainted,” Chan said, “How ‘bout I order some pizza and we get a movie started?”

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

The chatter had, eventually, died down. Jisung and Hyunjin spent the first half hour adding their commentary to the film, initially to everyone’s delight but eventually building annoyance and getting pillows and blankets thrown at them until they relented and watched quietly for the rest of the film. You were squeezed between Chan and Jisung on the couch that was clearly meant for two people but you hardly minded, their warmth more comforting than anything. 

When the second movie started Hyunjin took off to his room, thoroughly tired of interaction and ready to spend the remainder of his evening drawing. Still, the rest of you refilled on snacks and settled in for the movie. And though it was late by the end and Changbin decided to turn in, Jisung and Chan stayed. 

You knew Chan would stay up as late as you wanted, possibly even later. He never was able to sleep well in all the time you’d known him. Even if you were sure he was itching to work on the inside he seemed calm, enjoying the third movie starting. You found your gaze drifting to his face, simply taking in the profile of his nose, his lips, his jaw in the low light. It was a little self-indulgent, taking in his features like this. You were sure it was being tired that made you so much less careful but you couldn’t help yourself, wanting to drink in his handsome features for just a moment longer.

His gaze shifted and you saw the smirk pulling at his lips before the eyes on you. You didn’t miss the warm, rosy hue adorning his cheeks as your eyes traveled to meet his, nor the warmth in your own chest. An all too familiar feeling. You smiled back at him which served to make him giggle.

“Whathca looking at?” He hummed. 

“Just you. You look nice.” Was your reply.

Chan just chuckled again, shoving you lightly and clearly a little flustered. “Okay, sure.” He returned his gaze to the movie as did you, only noticing then that Jisung had fallen asleep, mouth hanging open and head resting back against the couch. You giggled quietly, leaning against Chan to get his attention. He chuckled too when he saw Jisung’s face. 

You shook your head as you looked back at the screen, staying curled up against Chan. He was warm and comfortable and while you had planned to stay up a while longer your eyelids were starting to feel heavy. You supposed the traveling really had taken its toll on your body. You felt an arm snake around your waist and elected to not think too hard about it as you drifted off to sleep against his shoulder.

---------

“Hey.”

The voice was soft as someone gently shook you and slowly came to your senses. You furrowed your brows, stirring a little before opening your eyes to see the TV, now off, in front of you. The space next to you where Jisung had been was now empty and cold so he’d clearly gone to bed some time ago. You sat up with a yawn before looking at Chan.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” You admitted.

“You think?” He snorted quietly. “I already put your bags in my room so-”

“No,” You said, suddenly feeling very awake.

Chan sighed. “You do this every time you stay over. Just let-”

“No.” You restated. “I’m not kicking you out of your own room, you dingus. I’m gonna go get my stuff while you get ready for bed.”

“You had to travel to get here and it was probably tiring,” he protested.

“I’ve made up my mind,” You said simply as you made your way down the hall. Chan grabbed your wrist before you went into his room, a last ditch effort to convince you. But you had this discussion every single time you visited and it always ended the same.

Nevertheless, he called your name softly, trying not to wake his roommates now. You looked him in the eye, seeing his sincerity but also his exhaustion. You were right to think he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“Please, please take my room. I’ll sleep on the couch, you know I don’t care. Someone could break in-”

“Christopher.” You said his name sternly and he fell silent. “You’ve never been broken in on, not once. There has never been any threat in your living room. I will be perfectly fine-”

“Sleep with me then.” He said quickly, his ears started to burn red as he fully processed his own words. You ignored the skipping in your heart as you frowned at him.

“Your bed is too small.” You pointed out. “One of us will end up on the floor.”

Chan’s shoulders finally slumped and he let go of your wrist. You sighed, stepping closer to him and wrapping him in a hug.

“You worry too much,” You hummed.

“Yeah,” He gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I just worry.”

You pulled back to look at him. “You need the rest more than I do I’d guess.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Is it that obvious that I haven’t been sleeping?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Just, try and get some rest, okay?”

Chan finally relented, dropping his head with a sigh. You took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly before heading into his room and grabbing your bags. You took them back to the living room and washed up while Chan grabbed a pillow and blanket for you. Even as you came back to settle in he gave you a pout and sad eyes. You just rolled your own as you plopped down on the couch.

“Go to bed, Chris.”

“Are you sur-”

“Yes,” You said firmly. “Go to bed.”

He gave you a half smile before finally shuffling back to his room.

You sighed to yourself as you snuggled under the blankets. He was always like that with you, protective and kind to a fault. Sometimes he cared a little too much. OR maybe he just cared more than he should. But you weren’t about to jeopardize his sleep for your own comfort. Their couch wasn’t even uncomfortable, he just hated the idea of you being out here alone. Even if some small part of yourself would rather be snuggled up in his bed you knew it wasn’t worth it.

---------

You blinked your eyes open, looking up at the ceiling above you. The room was dark, but not so much so that you couldn’t see anything. You could see the outlines and edges of the light fixture above you. Your gaze shifted along the lines of the ceiling, everything feeling a little slow as you did so. Even sitting up it felt heavy, like the air was thick with something.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked over the back of the couch and felt fear strike through you. Two small, red glowing eyes peered at you through the darkness. You gripped the couch tightly as the creature, still shrouded in black stared back at you and you felt the way time was getting slower and slower.

Despite that, when the creature moved, it moved fast. In the blink of an eye it stood at the back of the couch. You tried to move back, get up, run, anything, but you were stuck. A hand, looking like that of a person that had been long dead, skin black and decaying and hanging off of the skeletal frame started to slowly reach towards you.

Your eyes locked on the hand as you opened your mouth to scream but not a single sound came out.

Closer and closer the hand came and your stomach started to churn as you tried in vain to cry out for help, utterly stuck in place as the creature reached closer and closer to your neck. You met its glowing eyes again only to feel dizzy. Each breath was getting harder, as if it was already choking you. Despite not seeing a mouth you were sure the thing was grinning somehow and it made you sick.

The second it’s cold, rotting fingers touched your throat a scream ripped itself from deep inside you.

--------

You sat up suddenly, trying to catch your breath as the last echoes of a scream reverberated through the room and down the hall. Your heart was racing, beating far too heavily in your chest as tears stung your eyes and you looked around frantically, the horrible creature was nowhere to be seen.

You let out a sigh, slumping into yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. It was just a dream, nothing more. Even so, the backs of your eyelids seemed painted with the image of those horrifying red eyes. You blinked them open, your attention drawn out of your thoughts and to the sounds of someone stumbling out of bed.

Mere seconds later a door flew open and Chan came running out of his room. He ran to the back of the couch, nearly slamming into it before reaching out and cupping your cheeks with his hands. You flinched a little at the sudden contact after such a scare. Chan seemed to relax just a little just looking at you and seeing you okay.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone try and get in here? Did you-”

“It was just a bad dream,” you sighed.

Chan stared at you seriously. “You screamed.”

“Yeah, it just kind of happened,” You mumbled. “I’m sorry about that.”

Before Chan could say anything else another door opened and Changbin wandered into the hall, rubbing his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” He yawned. 

“Yep,” you admitted, head dipping a little. Chan let his hands drop from your face, shifting a little so you could see past him to Changbin. “Just a bad dream.” As the reality of it hit you embarrassment started to creep up on you. “You can go back to bed.”

Despite your reassurance, Changbin hesitated. “You sure you’re okay?”

You met his eye briefly and nodded. “I’m sure Chan will refuse to leave me alone now anyway.”

Changbin let out a chuckle and you saw Chan give you a shy grin out of the corner of your eye as Changbin headed back to bed with a sleepy wave. You sighed heavily and reached for your phone which had been going off for the last minute while Chan made his way around the couch to sit next to you. You unlocked it to find Hyunjin and Jisung freaking out in your group chat about how you were probably dead and they were next. You rolled your eyes tiredly and shot off a message to let them know you were fine before setting your phone aside and looking at Chan. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept a wink since you sent him off to bed.

“Are you actually okay?” He asked softly, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I am,” You said tiredly. “It was just a nightmare. Don’t worry.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

You dropped your gaze. “No, it was just a one off thing.”

“Are you sure?”

You met his eyes again, giving him a tired smile and squeezing his hands. “I’m really okay. It was just a little freaky but I woke up and I’m fine.”

Chan chewed on his lip for a moment, seeming to think of something but you caught on before he could voice said thoughts.

“You can go back to bed.”

Chan said your name softly but you stopped him.

“You need to sleep and so do I, just go back to bed. Nothing happened. I’m busy and probably just having a nightmare from stress, okay?”

Chan gave you a sad smile. “You really think I’ll be able to sleep at all with you out here after that?”

“Nothing happened,” you insisted, feeling exasperated.

“Yeah but now I know what you’d sound like if something did happen. I can’t just forget it.” He gazed at you, clearly tired and a little less guarded, a little more disarmed than usual. “If I go back there I’m just going to worry for the rest of the night.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to take your bed away from you.” He opened his mouth but you beat him to the punch. “And you know it’s not big enough for both of us.”

“It was once,” he mumbled. You broke away from his gaze, feeling your face heating at the memory of being sick cuddling up with him in his bed when he insisted that you needed someone to take care of you. You were tired and in need of comfort and not going to refuse it in the moment. Even if you already felt warm, the comfort from it sent you right to sleep and it was more restfully than you’d slept in a long time.

But you also remembered how you felt when morning came. Once your fever broke and you were thinking straight again. You remembered the way you felt and the way he clearly thought that night would somehow change all of the circumstances that made you fit together about as well as two pieces from entirely different puzzles.

You remembered the argument it caused between the two of you over the meaning of it all. The way it strained your friendship so much you thought you might just lose it. And there was far less that needed to fall into place so nicely with friends.

Crossing that boundary again wasn’t something you wanted to do.

“I know,” you said. “I just… isn’t this easier?”

Chan met you with a sad look on his face, almost heartbroken. “You think?”

“Don’t you?”

Before he could say anything else a rather loud cawing outside made you nearly jump out of your skin. Your eyes snapped to the window, half expecting to see the red eyes peering back at you. But there was nothing there, just a bird somewhere out in the darkness calling out into nothingness. 

Chan’s hand left yours, moving to rub your back again before giving you an expectant look.

“I’m f-”

“You can’t even handle a damn bird,” he chuckled.

“My nerves are a little fried,” you defended.

He looked at you, his stare calculated before he got up from the couch. For a moment you breathed a sigh of relief. He was as stubborn as you were and it was hard to convince him you were alright. If only he looked after himself with the same energy he tried to look after you.

A few moments later you groaned as he returned with a pillow and blanket.

“Christopher, no,” you said sternly as he settled into the armchair. “You can’t sleep there.”

“Well I’m not gonna get any sleep in my room so what does it matter?” He asked matter-of-factly.

“It’s so uncomfortable,” You whined. You knew, you’d tried to sleep there before when the couch broke and you visited with no other place to sleep. It was one of the worst sleeps of your life.

Chan shrugged. “Then at least I’ll be here and awake if you have another nightmare.”

“I told you I don’t usually do that.”

“Scream yourself awake or have nightmares?”

You bit back your comment. He was right. The stress recently had been getting to you and you’d been having terrible dreams. When you woke up it was fine but it did mean you didn’t sleep very soundly. Taking in his gaze you knew he’d made up his mind on this and you weighed your options. Despite everything, his bed was infinitely more comfy for both of you.

“Fine, you win,” you grumbled, standing from the couch. “We can go to your room.”

Chan positively beamed at you and it made you soften just a little, stomach flipping once again at the sweet expression. At the very least he was content and maybe you’d both get some good rest this way.

“I’ll clean up quickly out here and then I’ll be back, okay?”

You gave him a tired smile and shuffled back to his bedroom. You paid him not too much mind while he tidied up the blankets and grabbed the things you’d need. You simply took a pillow with you and collapsed onto his bed. There was definitely not enough space for both of you unless you cuddled close but in your tired state you just resigned yourself to the fact that it would feel nice even if it left everything a mess come morning, imagining things that couldn’t work out.

Though it would have been better to wait for him so you could figure out how to share the space, your exhaustion got the better of you as you curled into the soft, comfy bed, still warm from Chan’s body heat and with his comforting scent on the pillows. He was still cleaning up and no doubt grabbing water and maybe even a snack since he was awake and your tired body gave into the welcoming darkness of sleep mere moments after falling into bed.

---------

Your eyes blinked open in the darkness of Chan’s room, initially confused at the location. But it only lasted seconds before fear struck through your heart. The red eyes of a shadowy figure peered at you again from across the room. You sucked in a breath, too shallow, to try and make a sound but your mouth wouldn’t open. Your eyes wouldn’t close against the horrible creature either and as it shifted closer you felt tears well up in your throat.

What do you want with me? You wanted to ask. What did I do? Why me?

You couldn’t manage a single word of it, just pure and utter fear, breaths coming more shallow as the thing came a little closer and you were sure another was behind you, feeling a presence there too. You fought with your body to move, to speak, to do anything but you were frozen in place as hands landed on you from behind.

--------

“Hey, hey!” Chan’s voice came in panicked whispers. “Wake up! Please, wake up!”

You managed to force your eyes open, sucking in a deep breath and gasping for the air it felt like you’d been starved of. Chan pushed you gently until you were laying on your back, looking up at his worried expression. “Wh-What happened? You’re cryin-”

You were quick to throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as you let out shaky breaths, relieved that it was just your brain playing tricks on you. The torment tonight had been relentless but you were thankful that it was, nevertheless, not real. You nuzzled your face against his shirt, subtly trying to wipe away the tears before he looked at you again.

Chan sat on the bed and gingerly brought you to sit in his lap, holding you close and rubbing your back. He murmured reassurances to you as you calmed down. The image of the red eyes was burned onto the backs of your eyelids but it was somewhat dulled, more bearable when he was this close.

When you finally pulled back to look at him his expression was still laced with concern. “Was it another nightmare?”

“Sleep paralysis,” You sighed. “But both had the same spooky ghost thing.”

Chan said your name softly, holding your chin gently to keep you from looking away from him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m…” You paused, trying to find the words. “I’m tired and stressed. I’ve been too busy to rest. But I am okay. You know how it goes, sometimes your brain throws you nightmares when you’re stressed out.”

He pouted. “I hate it though.”

“Getting nightmares?”

“No, you getting them.”

You smiled at him. “Well unless you can travel inside my brain and stop them.”

He chuckled. “I know, I just wish I could do something.”

You finally pulled away from his grasp. “Let’s just sleep, I think…”

“You think…?”

“Nevermind,” You said. “Let’s just sleep.”

Chan seemed like he wanted to press you a little more but he didn’t. Instead he moved to lay down before opening his arms and welcoming you to cuddle into his chest with a wink that made you snort and hit him with a pillow before you settled onto him. He was quick to lock his arms around you and squish his cheek into the top of your head.

“Good night,” he hummed and you could feel it rumble in his chest.

“Night, Chan.”

--------

You felt warm and comfy as you slowly came to. Light was streaming through a slight gap in the curtains so you knew it was morning but as for the specific time you didn’t much care. You snuggled closer into Chan’s grasp, nuzzling your face into his neck. You didn’t want to think at all right now. After struggling to rest for so many hours, after so much stress recently, a few precious moments of rest were very welcome.

“Morning,” Chan’s voice was a little lower, a little rougher as he woke up, no doubt from sleep. You hid your face in his neck as your heart fluttered, pretending you were far more sleepy than you actually were. His arms around you got a little tighter as he nuzzled against your head.

“Did you sleep well?” He hummed.

“I did,” you mumbled. “No more nightmares at least.”

“And I slept like a log. It’s almost like we’re good for each other.”

At this comment your stomach did a series of flips and you pushed up, away from him. While your heart beat a little too hard you fixed him with a disapproving stare and stern tone. “Chris.”

He met your sternness with a decided softness of his own when he said your name in a way that made your heart melt just a little. You kept your gaze the same though as you sat up fully, him following along like you were a magnet pulling him closer no matter how you moved.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” He pouted.

“You know why.” Even first thing in the morning the man made you want to scream. He knew. He knew about the distance. He knew about the false starts and the awkward moments and the hopes of something that crumbled as soon as it was touched. He knew about always getting the wrong. He knew about the personality clashes. He knew about the explosions of emotions that had nearly shipwrecked it all. He knew about the drunken quiet whispers that shouldn’t have been said. He knew about the incompatibilities. He knew because he was there, the other half of all the conversations.

 Chan’s shoulders dropped a little. “If you’re talking about you moving away-”

“Christ, Christopher!” You groaned. “You know I had to get out of that place. You know it’s better now, even if I am farther away. And besides, you know that’s not even what I meant, it’s more than just… work.”

“You know over time things can change, right?” he said quietly.

“Do you really think things can change that much?” You questioned.

“Don’t you think it’s at least worth a shot?”

You stared at each other through a beat of silence. You hated the way your heart yearned to give him the answer he wanted, the answer you wanted, even if you knew it was a bad idea.

“I think wasting our time on a lost cause is stupid,” you muttered bitterly, getting up from the bed.

“How could you think it’s a lost cause?” You couldn’t look at him, not when he sounded so heartbroken. Not when you knew you’d be able to see it on his face. 

“I think the parts that don’t work, that don’t make any sense between us are bigger than whatever we have.”

“Whatever we have?” He sounded almost as if he didn’t believe you could say such words. Maybe he really couldn’t. “Look at me.”

You kept your gaze trained on the floor.

“Look at me.” Softer this time. “Please.”

You relented, meeting his eyes again and feeling the crushing weight of the quiet room. 

“Tell me, honestly, that you don’t feel this too. Tell me you don’t love me like I love you.”

You felt so much pain in your chest as dry lips parted, trying to find words. But you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lie to him. Not like that.

“Do you really think love is enough?”

Chan just stared at you in disbelief, as if it made no sense to him. He took in a breath but whatever he had come up with was soon cut off by Hyunjin’s voice in the hallway.

“Breakfast’s ready!”

Another silence as Chan closed his mouth.

“Come on,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze once more. “Breakfast’s ready.” 

Before he could manage a single word you left the room, putting on the most normal front you could. Breakfast was ready after all.

[flowercrowngods]

✍️ 🚀 💛🎯🎨 I WANT🙈

thank you darling, you want and you shall receive!! 🤍

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

that depends! for floaty or angsty one shots, the ideal setup is either me in bed or in the bathroom with my back against the heater, a phone with a functioning (!!!) keyboard, and a clock with the time way past midnight :p unfortunately, the functioning keyboard part is the reason i've not really been able to write lately :/

for chaptered fics, i don't have an ideal setup. just need my laptop and a good ol' helping of either spite or manic craze to write 4k in one go :p

🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

i usually just have some vibes and then create as i go along. even for chaptered fics i rarely have an outline, just some plot points and a way to get there sometimes, which i most oftentimes ignore completely (the problem is, when i outline a fic, i have no motivation left to write it anymore, because i know what's gonna happen when, so where' the thrill in writing it anymore? on to the next idea!)

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

this is gonna sound tacky, but most readers are actually kind, supportive and patient. you don't owe anyone any explanations as to why you can't write right now, but most people tend to tell you to take your time anyway <3 (if you ever told me to take my time, i am kissing your hands very gently)

🎯 Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

nope :D i don't do milestones (but if we count that, the thing i'm working towards is actually finishing a long story lmao)

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

god, there's already art for my fics (which is something i never expected to say) that i think about daily 🥺😭🤍

my wonderful @marshmellowpaint gifted me some art here 🥹

the time travel au has been gifted the most incredible art by the amazing @eaissez here and by my darling friend @sevenpumpkins here and here 🥺🌷

all of that is already more than i could have ever hoped or wished for, in no other fandoms i've been in have my stories inspired art?? i think i would combust if there were any more of it tbh 🥹

fanfic writer ask game

[rcksmith]

Distracted — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “shit, i forgot. I'm the one who asked for smut prompts #30, #31, #61 and #96. Could you write them for Five Hargreeves? Thank you! So sorry to spam you with the asks X-X”

Smut prompts :

30. “I’d hold on to something if I were you.”

31. “Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.”

61. “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

96. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem! Reader.

Warnings: smut heavy, NSFW, dirty talk, swearing, degradation. (I was in a bad mood hkjskjs)

Word count: 4k

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. It was explicit, hanging from his chest on a giant sign that said: “ABANDONATE THE HOPES IF YOU ENTER HERE.” And he knew that.

Inside his body he housed a sarcastic, explosive and sulky soul, with no patience for half the world. Everything about him exuded a dangerous, authoritarian, arrogant energy, mixed with distilled look that have always been able to subdue anyone.

Five is the type of man who, while everyone dreams of easy solutions, he knows that if he wants something to be done he will have to do it himself. He likes a hunting, taking the lead in any situation, having no problem breaking rules to make things happen.

And he was perfectly comfortable with that. Taking control of his world. Until, of course, you show up. Taking the key to his Olympus as if it had always belonged to you.

You were the one thing that Five Hargreeves couldn't subdue. He was unable to impose to you his reputation as a man who should not be challenged. Because that was exactly how the world saw Five. Like a man you don't challenge. Even his siblings realized, after a certain point, that it was not advisable to play with him.

But, apparently against all common sense, none of this had an effect on you.

You were not afraid, or pondering your words. You rolled your eyes at the things he said, mocked his arrogance and always looked at him with a combination of a smile and a look that, holy mother of God, Five hated. It was the typical expression that said: “ I know a lot more than you do, but I will be quiet because you are not worth my time.”

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But you raised it to stratospheric proportions.

It was completely exasperating, outstanding, you were a brat who didn't hear the voice of an adult, so used to being daddy's little girl. Because that was how he saw you. You were only 24 age while he was 30. It was expected that you heard him! But no. You did not give a damn.

“If you listened to me and chose the Colombian, that wouldn't be so bad!” Five scolded again.

This was the twentieth time he had said that to you.

There was a routine with the Hargreeves siblings: you brought coffee on Mondays, since you passed a great coffee shop on the way. Diego was responsible for bringing Japanese food on Wednesdays, Luther for Indian food on Fridays and Klaus for pizzas on Saturdays. It was a banal thing, but it brought a comforting feeling of, no matter how not anyone would admit, tradition.

But it was obvious that you had to piss Five off on that too.

“And I already said that they don't do the Colombian before ten in the morning.” You passed the page of a magazine you were reading, ignoring his tantrum.

“And you can't wait ?!”

This time you looked up at Five, giving a mocking expression.

“Oh, forgive me, your majesty. I will delay my journey just because your eexcellency wants Colombian coffee.” You laughed, turning your attention to the magazine.

Five felt the tips of his ears heat up, the fingers of his hands go white from the force that he clenched his fists. You were so fucking annoying!

"You are unbearable." He said, because he saw no other way to express the hateful little monster you were.

You looked up at him again. “Serious? Me? You are the one who is complaining about not getting your blend coffee.” You turned your attention to the magazine “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

What?! Fucking what?!

Five opened his mouth in bewilderment, now anger rising up his neck. How dare you, fuck?! You were younger than him!

"What did you say?!" He repeated, his voice low but deep, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

You didn't take your attention away from the magazine by replying: “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

Oh, no. Oh fucking no.

Five slammed the coffee travel cup on the kitchen counter, walked over to you and closed your magazine brutally. You looked at him indignantly.

"What a fuck ..."

But Five didn't give you time to finish. He stuck both hands in your arms, forcing you to get up from the chair so quickly that the object fell to the floor. He pushed you back, lifting you up and making you sit at the wooden table, his eyes still on fire with your words.

"Child, isn't it ?!” He snarled, spreading your knees with his hands, settling his body still standing between your legs.

You were wide-eyed. Looking at him in amazement. Your heart was pounding in your chest so hard that you thought Five would be able to hear it, while your breath had been lost somewhere between the path from your lung to your nose.

Holy shit.

It was no secret that Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. This was not an opinion, it was a fact. With midnight hair, emerald green eyes and alabaster skin, it was not surprising that he was able to steal his breath wherever he went. And you were not immune to his charm. To be honest, you never thought it would be.

But the difference between you and the girls who fell at his feet was that ... well, you practically lived with the guy every day. You had been friends with Klaus for two years, and as a result you ended up becoming friends with the brothers and captivating them. It was almost atypical that you weren't with them. So, as a result, you ended up having time with Five too.

And, truth be told, it destroyed your will to want to impress him. As was common whenever see someone beautiful. Five Hargreeves was, in every way, arrogant. Irritating. Unbearable. Maybe it was your lust mixed with irritability, but you decreed that you didn't like him. That you would never want to fall into his bed.

Well…until now.

Until he accommodates his fucking tall, lean, firm body in the middle of your legs. Until his hands are glued to your arms in a touch of fire. Until your heart was racing like never before.

"You called me a child, didn't you?"

You wouldn't be able to answer anything in that second, even if your life depended on it. So you just nodded, a slow, cautious nod, like prey looking at hunter.

"I will show you my age!"

Five kissed you. In a way that no one had kissed you before. It was something hungry, angry, full of lust and with a desire that made you sigh softly. His hands were still on your legs, coming down to the back of your knees and pulling you firmly forward, sticking your whole body against his in a possessive way. His tongue invaded your mouth without waiting for an invitation, renouncing everything you had to offer as his.

That was a really kiss.

You put your hands on the back of his neck, running your fingers over the silky, black strands, letting your body be pressed against his as if you had been waiting for it a lifetime. Five pulled your legs closer, guiding you to close them around his hips and, once you did, his hands, determined and hungry, roam the sides of your body possessively.

"Five ..." a groan cut off your speech when his hands clung to your waist, pressing the hard and firm member to your core covered in the thin legging pants you wore.

"You already moaning and I haven't even touched you yet." His voice was overwhelmingly arrogant, full of amusement and convincing.

You were going to answer, because you weren't the kind of girl who kept quiet with a tease, but Five's hands made your waist roll around handily against his member, and a louder groan interrupted any line of reasoning you had.

“Oh, how adorable.” He scoffed, lowering his mouth to your neck and closing a hickey where pulse was “I wonder how the moaning will be when I do ...”

His right hand moved up to the inside of your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles until he got to where you needed it most. “This.” Then he forced the movements where your clitoris was covered.

Your groan was louder than you would like to admit. The air became caustic, rarefied, the atmosphere became something breathtaking, claustrophobic, poignant. And, before you know it, it was already a wet clay in his hands.

Five Hargreeves had won. He had you exactly where him wanted.

Your moans grew louder when he tuned his thumb movements together with his pelvis movements against you. Your hands tightened on the back of his neck, your teeth closed on your lower lip in order to contain the volume, and your breathing was shaky. Your hips pushed against him, the thin leggings being smeared by the arousal that oozed from you, and as soon as his hand was only an inch away, you followed it with your hips.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” Five played with the voice at the bottom of your ear.

You pulled the air against your teeth, whimpering, wanting anything he could give you.

“I bet ...” his lips slid under your skin without kissing, just making you wish, up to your lips and hovering there, a sigh away “If I asked you to take your clothes off and let me fuck you in this table like a good whore, you would gladly do. It is not?”

His free hand went to your face, taking a stir of your hair out of your eyes and placing it behind your ear. You were unable to contain the moan, closing your eyes tightly for a second, trying to contain how much your body screamed.

"Y-yes." You whined.

“Good." Five sprinkled a kiss on your lips before walking away.

You opened your eyes, your chest rising and falling with your heaving breath, your legs shaking. Your body screamed in protest at the separation, and you sent him a confused and inquiring look.

“You will learn who is in charge here." Five gave you a sly smile. "I'm only going to fuck you when you understand this."

Then he turned his back on you, took the coffee and disappeared in the blue flash.

This son of fucking bitch!

- - -

You were angry and frustrated. To say the least. Your body was on fire and mind replayed that day over and over in your head. It had been four days since Five's little exploits in the kitchen, and, to be honest, not only had he started the teasing.

Five gave you malicious and discreet smiles, gestured a lot more with his hands when he spoke just to remind you of what they could do. He hovered his body close to your whenever possible, brushing his shoulder against your, his hand gently on your back when he needed to pass beside you. His fingers even slid under your thigh under the table when you were having dinner. It was always like that.

And you were already crazy.

In the beginning, you sent him and their little game go to hell. He was not going to get what he wanted. But as the days went by, and Five started to touch you more often, the fire inside you burst, and it felt a lot less... torture if you just... gave in. The thought of sleeping with someone else just to appease that didn't bring you the same euphoria, you didn't just want sex, you wanted Five.

You knew he was playing with you. Just wanted you to give a sign that you were surrendering, so that he could give you what you wanted.

And after seven days, you gave in.

It was Monday, your mood was already an angry monster, but this time, you arrived a little later.

“Y/n, you are lateeeeee.” Klaus sang from the kitchen, biting off a large chunk of whatever it was before he sat down.

Vayna, Luther and Five were also at the table. Vayna and Luther talking about nothing important and Five reading a book under metaphysics.

"Traffic."

You lied, placing the tray of coffees in the middle of the table. Five and Luther were the first to get, Vayna still getting used to coffee addiction.

“Allison and I are going to watch something today. Why don't you come with us? ” You sat next to Klaus, throwing one leg over his.

"Is it going to be in the cinemove?”

He denied “In the living room, you can sleep here after."

You shrugged. “Okay.”

"Did you go to a different coffee shop?" Luther raised his eyebrows, having just swallowed his coffee.

“No, why?”

“It tastes different.” He drank some more.

“It is Colombian.” You put the cards on the table, in a game that only you and Five knew.

You didn't look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you and a sly, malicious smile brushing the right side of his mouth. That was the only interaction that you felt Five driving you that day. The hours had passed and it was already one in the morning when the movie in the mansion's ended. It was not atypical you slept in the mansion, the guest room was almost called “your room” at that time. But there was… there was something different this time.

As you unbuttoned your pants, with the night breeze coming in through the window, you thought that maybe it was because you never slept there having feelings for one of the siblings. So impure feelings. There was something about sleeping under the same roof as Five that made you ... nervous. But as soon as you removed the piece and placed it on the bed, the blue flash flashed behind you.

Your whole body went tense, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your heart was racing as if, suddenly, you had just returned from a marathon. You swallowed, the heat of his body hitting your back, while his hand went up your arm gently.

"You are such a good girl." Five's voice made your legs tremble, the butterflies in your stomach roll.

In this moment, feeling things that you never thought you would be able to feel, you wished always were a good girl for him.

"Did you do that for me?" His mouth joined the pice of your shoulder and neck.

You knew he knew he did, but the bastard wanted to hear it from you. Five wanted you to confirm that he had won.

“Yes” You whispered, the moonlight allowing you to see when his hand went down to your belly, playing with the cos of your dark blue panties.

"I knew you would be a good girl for me."

Then, taking you by surprise, Five pushed your chest onto the bed, bending you over, pulling your hips towards his with the other hand. You sighed when you felt his already hard member hit your pussy just covered by thin panties, now wet with your mess. Your hands closed on the sheet, your heart almost screaming in relief at the contact of his body behind you.

God, you wanted him so fucking much...

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Hargreeves reflected on a rhetorical question, his hands sliding over your surrendered body, squeezing your flesh with a force that would leave marks.

You whimpered, rolling your hips over his member. "Please"

“What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” Five slapped your left cheek.

You moaned softly, tightening the sheet, your body refusing to remain an inch away from him. Your hips needed more from Five's, your whimpers increasing as he took off your panties and ran his fingers through your wet folds.

"Five!" You moaned louder, biting your lip as he played with your entrance.

"Should I just fuck you with my fingers?" He caused your entry with two digits "Or with my dick?"

You were an incoherent mess, days of denial and desire that burned arthrosis in your body.

"Answer me!" Five slapped you again, this time louder, more grotesque, making you cry out.

"Y-your dick!" You tried to say, “P-please. Fuck me with your dick, please. ”

You were desperate, that was the truth. Desperate for contact, desperate for touch. Desperate for anything that Five Hargreeves could want from you. Anything he wanted to give you.

"Hard?" His voice was now dark, slightly wicked.

“Y-yes! Please!”

Then Five stuck his hand to the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and pulling your face up, making you face the ceiling as he leaned over and snarled at your neck:

"How hard?"

"Give me all!" You begged “Please, Sir. Give me all."

That title seemed to drive him out of his mind. Because the only thing you had in response was the sound of his belt falling to the floor and the rustle of his pants and boxers down, his right hand never leaving your hair. You groaned in anticipation, tears pricking your eyes from the desire that had accumulated so long when you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance.

Five lowered his mouth to your ear, holding his hand more in your hair as he said: "I’ d hold on to something if I were you. "

Then he entered you. Hard, rough, wild. Opening all your walls and spreading your abundant liquid all over his dick. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, your nails etched hard on the sheet, tears streaming from your eyes without warning. Five gave you just a few seconds to settle for his size, starting to beat inside you at a relentless pace.

This time you screamed. Your heart pounding in chest, your pussy pulsing around Five with so much desperation that you heard him moan and curse behind you. The pace was rough, heavy, wild and full of lust. He fucked you like a rabid animal, devouring everything you had to offer, filling every last inch of you. The sound was of pornographic moans and bodies clashing with arrogance, filling the entire mansion with sounds that would not be forgotten.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, pushing your ass to Five at the same rate, making he hit the deepest spot inside you.

“Fucking such good slut!” He dumped one more slap on your ass, freeing his hand from your hair and joining both of them at your waist, pulling you towards him in an heavy rhythm.

Each thrust was an electric current poured into your body, excitement running down your thighs and melting both of you. Five groaned louder, leaning over and biting your shoulder, clenching his fingers aggressively against the innocent skin on your waist.

“I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.” Five blew in your ear, receiving a loud groan in return, as yours tears flowed.

Your pussy tightened around his dick, pulsing in such a tight way for he.

"Oh, would you like that?" He teased you, feeling your walls tighten again. “I bet you would love to everbody see the slut you are to me. ”

"Sir!" You screamed, throwing your head forward, pressing your forehead to the sheet as you sobbed.

"Answer!" One more slap.

"Y-yes! I-I like could show that I'm your slut! ” You sobbed.

Five came out of you, making you whimper loudly in frustration. He turned you over on the bed, placing you in the center as he climbed on top of you, settling in between your legs and entering without warning again. You screamed, sinking your face into his neck as your legs closed around his waist, pulling his deep into you.

"Such a good bitch."

Five felt your limit riding fast, leaving you more breathless, tearful and desperate. You no longer measured the volume of your moans, your hands clenching your nails on his back, your waist rolling around to make him inside deeper.

"S-sir!" Then, without being able to control yourself anymore, you exploded. Came in long streams of broken moans and shaky breathing.

Your head fell on the pillow, your chest arching while you were on top of the climax. Five groaned at the scene, his limit being your expression of pure ecstasy. He sank in you as anatomically as possible, filling you with the hot liquid that overflowed from inside you.

You were both panting, sweaty and tired. Five let himself relax on top of you, partially loosening his weight, still stirring a few strokes to ensure that you had welcomed all his cum.

"Good girl." He praised you, giving you a small kiss on the neck, stepping out of you and rolling to your side on the bed.

"That was ... wow." You laughed softly, trying to catch your breath.

Hargreeves laughed too, taking the time to get out of bed, looking for the boxers and pants. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly not knowing what to do or what to say. Your heart sank at the thought of him leaving, and your mouth was faster than your common sense in saying:

"Wait!"

Five turned to you, his brows furrowed in question as he buttoned his black pants.

"Can you ... could you ... stay?" You took a chance, your cheeks quivering under Five's intense gaze that never left you.

But, instead of the denial you were expecting, his eyebrows furrowed even more in doubt.

“But I am not leaving.” He said it as if it was obvious.

Did you blink a few times “No?”

“I was just going to get a towel to clean you up. There are certain things that I don’t like do naked.”

You opened your mouth to answer, a little shocked, but Five disappeared in the blue flash only to appear a second later, with a towel in hand. You sank into your own shame, muttering softly to yourself in incoherent sounds, you let Five clean you up.

“Did you think I was leaving?” He scoffed when he finished, looking at you with that smug look.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the side on the bed, your back to him.

"No." You mumbled.

Five laughed, settling better on the bed. "Come here." He said, patting his chest.

And, well, as much as you would like to consider yourself a rebellious girl, you did. Turning to him again, you snuggled into his body, laying your head on his chest while Five pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you.

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But at that moment, with you, you did not fail to notice the lazy and caring circles he made on your shoulder with his thumb.

Tagged: @bubblegumflamingos

[meowzards]

“Easy” Nights

Peter Parker x GN!Reader (they/them)

Peter Parker worked alone; that was true, until recently. Now, with a new spider friend and a lot of trouble, his number one problem is finding a way to juggle being Spider-Man and working on a chem project with the person he's had a crush on since middle school, all while his spider-friend takes a night off.

word count: 4k

warnings: FLUFF, cursing, minor injuries

note: hihi!!! this is my first genuine fanfic in a WHIIILE!! I'm sorry if its written poorly or if there are any mistakes! It's just a cute little fic idea that I came up with!! if u enjoy it, i'd love to hear any thoughts in replies or reblogs!! ^^ thank you!!

Peter Parker sat all night with a backpack next to him, legs dangling off the Empire State Building, waiting patiently for one specific person. Spider-Man used to be a solo act, the only hero in New York, until a few months ago, when someone else had shown up. Power-wise, the newbie was just like him in almost every way, although they would tell him otherwise. At first, Peter wanted nothing to do with them, but after a bit of pestering and bonding, he’d grown attached to his new spider friend.

They went by the name “Velvet Spider” not only because it sounded cool, but they told Spider-Man that they “didn't want to steal his brand entirely.” He'd never tell them, but it made Peter smile a little.

A quick “thwip” was heard and suddenly Peter had someone’s legs casually relaxing on his lap as they lie on the edge. A quick yawn escaped their mouth from under their mask.

“Hey Spides,” they said, pulling their mask up just a little bit so that he could see their smile.

“Anything new?” Peter asked casually, not thinking much of it.

“That’s the first thing you ask me? Not ‘how’s your day’? Some kind of hero you are!” They jokingly scoffed at him, putting a hand on their chest insultingly.

“You’re right, that’s my bad. Let me try again. So, my spider-hero, how are you? Is there anything I can do for you since you’re obviously the best and smartest hero in New York,” Peter said sarcastically, leaning on Velvet’s legs annoyingly.

“That’s more like it,” Velvet joked and sat up, moving their legs out from under Spider-Man’s arms to dangle them off of the building. “Nothing new out tonight.”

“Police radios?”

“Nothing but jaywalkers and graffiti artists.”

“Oh my god, we might finally have a night off.”

“Shocking.”

“No kidding.” Peter shifted, facing Velvet, changing his position to be criss-cross applesauce. “Any plans for the quiet night?”

Velvet sat up straight, their shoulders tensing up a bit. “Actually, yeah. My friend and I have a thing to do, so I was planning on going to his house to see if he’s not busy.” They scratched the back of their neck and brought their knees up to their chest, slightly nervous energy filling their voice.

Peter tilted his head and stifled a laugh. “I don’t like to assume things, but I’m 100% assuming you have a crush on this ‘friend’ of yours.”

“Spides, I will web your face.”

“Gross! But seriously-“ he put a hand on their shoulder gently, their arm dropping and losing the tension it just had, “-if this ‘friend’ doesn’t like you back, they’re plain stupid. I’ll patrol for you tonight. Go have fun with your project.”

They smiled under their mask. “Thanks, Spides. You’re the best.”

“Hey, you can thank me after you kiss that person tonight. Now shoo. I got this.”

“I’m not gonna kiss him. But I’ll still thank you again later. Cya Spides.” They smiled and stood up, webbing the top of another building, then swung off into the New York cityscape.

Peter sighed a little and leaned back, taking off his mask. He was in for a lonely night, but he kept himself at ease knowing his friend was safe and happy. Besides, swinging through the air and helping the people of New York didn’t particularly count as “boring” anyway.

He stood up, surveying the area, and prepared to swing when he felt the small buzz of the phone in his boot. Confused, he took it out to see a text from someone.

Y/N L/N. The person he had a crush on since middle school, the person who also happened to be his lab partner for AP chemistry. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw their name and a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. But what did they need in the middle of the night?

He opened his phone quickly, sitting back down on the ledge with his feet up to his chest.

Y/N: hey peter!!! i found some free time tonight if you wanna work on our chem project!! meet me at my house if you can ^^

He gulped. Moral dilemmas filled his head as he stared at Y/N’s text. Now was the time for him to choose between his life as Spider-Man or his life as Peter Parker, and it was a tough one. He didn’t want to leave Y/N in the dark, but he couldn’t just abandon his duties as Spider-Man and possibly endanger the city.

Then again, it was also a slow night for crime. What was the harm in taking a night for Peter Parker stuff? If something happened, he could call up Velvet. Velvet could do something if he couldn’t, he was sure of it.

He took a deep breath in and started typing out his response.

Peter: yeah, i can do that! i’ll be over in a few!

And just a few seconds later, he got a response.

Y/N: Perfect! See you then!

Peter smiled to himself. He got a night alone with the person he liked, and so did Velvet! It was a win-win!

He stood up, sticking his phone back down into his boot, and stretched. Luckily, he had on his clothes from earlier under his suit, so changing wouldn’t be that bad. He picked up his backpack and swung off to Y/N’s house

Y/N sat on their couch, setting up everything they needed for their chem project. Peter Parker would be here any minute and they needed everything to be absolutely perfect. He was a super-genius, and if they messed up in front of Peter? They would never live it down. They shivered at the thought.

Peter was imperfectly perfect, too much so for Y/N. His hair was always messy in a way that framed his face nicely, and his eyes were so bright and full of potential Y/N swore you could see stars in them. He always had this dorky energy, it was a mystery how nobody else saw his perfection. As far as Y/N could tell, they were the only one at midtown who actually liked Peter. It confused them to no end.

They were quickly brought of their dazed state by a knock at the door, making them jump from the noise. “Just a second!” They called out, dusting off the couch and straightening up anything that they could, maybe even fixing their hair a little, but they wouldn’t admit that.

They ran over to the door and looked out the peephole. Peter Parker. They felt a knot in their stomach.

Peter watched as the door opened in front of him, showing Y/N L/N, a small smile on their face. Their hair was patted down nicely and their pajamas had a cartoon-styled Spider-Man printed pattern.

Peter did his best to hold back a laugh. Oh my god, he thought to himself as he saw Y/N’s pajama-sweatpants, seeing himself. His crush of almost 5 years had his face- Spider-Man’s face- on their pajama pants and didn’t even know it was him. He couldn’t help himself, he slipped a little comment about the pants.

“Spider-Man?” He asked, leaning against the door a little.

Y/N flushed. Oh no. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to change out of my pajamas.”

They had already failed their “Don’t Embarrass Yourself In Front Of Peter Parker” mission and it hadn’t even been a minute since he arrived.

“No no, I like them,” Peter assured with a dumbass smile on his face. “You a fan?”

Y/N looked away from him. “Yeah, something like that.”

They tried hard to hide their red-stained face from Peter as their hand was placed strategically on their cheek. Unfortunately for Y/N, Peter noticed.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’ve got at least 2 Velvet Spider pajama pants in my dresser.”

They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Y/N slapped their hand over their mouth and stifled their laughter unsuccessfully. Keeling over with watery eyes, Y/N tried desperately to calm their laughter down, but nothing worked. If they could tell them how stupid he sounded, they would. He had their face on pajamas and he didn’t even know.

“You’re wearing Spider-Man pajama pants and you’re laughing at me? I can’t believe this!” Peter said jokingly, ignoring the red of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- just give me a second,” Y/N took a deep breath in, standing up straight with a goofy smile that nearly knocked Peter over. “I’m okay now.”

“Yeah yeah, let’s get to work on chem now, no more pajama pants talk, hypocrite,” Peter joked, walking into the living room.

“Heyy! I am not a hypocrite!” They whined

“Whatever you say, L/N!”

As Peter sat on the couch, his ears rang loudly and he froze. The world seemed a harsh mix of TV static and fisheye lens, and his sensory overload hung over him like a hook. Spidey sense, he thought to himself and surveyed his surroundings. Nothing there.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the-,” Peter started, but was cut off quick.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, be right back.” And in a flash, Y/N was walking up the stairs.

Peter had no time to question it, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and running out the front door the moment he was in the clear.

Out of all nights, he thought to himself, it had to be tonight. Of course. No days off for Spider-Man. At the very least, he had some time while Y/N was upstairs. He hoped and prayed that he would be done this before they came back down.

After changing in an alleyway, he jumped up on a building and checked out the area from behind his mask. Another set of footsteps quickly joined him, sitting over the edge with their eyed set on the city. Velvet. He looked over at them.

“Spidey sense?”

They nodded. “Let’s make this quick, okay Spides?”

“Didn’t kiss your boyfriend yet?”

“Dickhead. Find the problem.”

“Alright, alright. I’m looking.”

Velvet turned on their phone and tuned into the police radios. “A robbery on 23rd street.” “Three big men, one in a metallic suit.” They looked over at Spider-Man, who nodded in place of “let’s go”.

The fight was quick, luckily, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. Within 5 minutes, Velvet had gotten thrown into a wall at least twice because of their impatience. Peter kept yelling at them to slow down, but it seemed like something else was on their mind. He took charge of the situation as quickly as he could, making sure Velvet stayed safe.

Once it was over, he ran to Velvet’s side, gripping their shoulders gently. “Are you okay? What is wrong with you?!”

“IT’S OVER!” They cheered, shaking free from Peter’s incredibly sticky grip. “Bye Spides!”

They ran off, their carelessness making Peter put his head in his hands and sigh. How could someone usually so patient and thoughtful act so stupid in the middle of a fight, potentially getting themselves hurt? He wanted to get out of there just as much, if not more than them, but even he knew not to be reckless.

He didn’t have time to think about it- he had to get back to Y/N, and quick. It had been 10 minutes already, and “being in the bathroom” unresponsive for 10 minutes was a huge red flag.

He crawled in through the bathroom window, suit still on, and immediately flushed the toilet, praying that maybe, in some impossible way, this night wasn’t ruined before it started. It was so rare for him to see Y/N alone, he could check on Velvet later, right now he was focused on Y/N. And also focused on getting this damn suit off.

Loud footsteps were trailing down the stairs, and Peter smiled to himself. They hadn’t left their room, after all, he was safe, everything was still ok. He had been blessed with a second chance that Y/N didn’t even know about. He continued struggling with the suit, falling over with a “thud” because of the area rug.

“Pete? You ok?” Y/N asked quietly.

He felt his heart skip a beat at the nickname. “Yeah, all good!” He said nervously. “Just, um, struggling!”

“Struggling..?”

He wanted to die.

“With um, the sink! Yeah!” He saved himself and finally slipped off the suit, standing up and opening the door.

Y/N stood in front of him, their lip cut open and bleeding, making Peter stop in his tracks. “Hey, what happened to your lip..?” He said softly, leaning down just a bit and putting his hand gently on their cheek.

Y/N felt their cheeks heat up as the blood rushed to them. His hand was on their cheek, and suddenly the huge fight in the city didn’t happen in their mind. It was just this moment.

“Huh- Oh! That’s- um, it’s nothing! Don’t worry about it!”

“Bullshit.”

“Bull- Pete! I’m fine! Seriously!” They pleaded, their cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Let’s just get started on this chem project, we haven’t gotten anything done yet.”

“I’m not starting that until I know you’re ok.” His tone was incredibly serious, more so than Y/N had heard from him yet. They could’ve collapsed in his arms right there.

He let go of their face, barely noticing the red tint from their blush, and grabbed a towel, running it under the cool sink water. Wringing it out a little bit, he brought it to Y/N’s lip, dabbing it softly to soak up the blood. His finger was under their chin, lifting up their head ever so slightly to make sure he got everything.

Y/N thought they were going to die right then and there. Their mind raced with thoughts, all about Peter Benjamin Parker. Peter Parker- the dork in their chem class, the Peter Parker of whom they could definitely see the muscle outline through his shirt, making them feel even fainter. They had gotten thrown into a wall twice tonight and Peter Parker was the thing making them lightheaded.

He finished wiping the blood and looked at Y/N with the gentlest gaze. “Are you okay?”

Y/N stared at him, not a single word coming out of their mouth. Oh my god. Are we about to kiss? No way. I’m about to kiss Peter Parker.

Their phone alerted them with a loud siren, making them jump out of their staring competition with one Peter Parker. Mother fucker, they thought to themselves, looking down at their phone, before looking back up at Peter. “This’ll be just a second,” they blurted out nervously, and power-walked back upstairs, now wanting to die.

Peter blinked. Holy shit. No way did that just happen.

“Are you KIDDING me?” Y/N complained, sitting on their bed up in their room. Another robbery, 15th street. Of all times, this had to happen now. They were cursed, they were sure of it. They were so close to kissing Peter Parker, and New York and its stupid crime had to come along and ruin it. Sometimes, Y/N really despised being a superhero. Especially when being a superhero kept them from kissing Peter Parker.

Then it clicked to them. They had a partner in crime, a sidekick. Spider-Man. It was genius, of course, he could get them out of this, and then they could spend more time with Peter! And then they could tell him about how they kissed Peter! The plan was flawless. They slipped on their suit and immediately went looking for Spider-Man.

Peter sat downstairs, waiting patiently for Y/N to come back. His foot tapped against the dark wooden floor of the living room, and he could feel his nerves go off one by one. Had they ditched him? Did he go too far? Maybe he shouldn’t have butted in, that Y/N was fine and he should’ve let them handle it. Mind racing, he hardly noticed his phone buzzing with notifications from the radio app. He designed it himself to update him on crime.

As soon as he snapped out of it, he heard the voices of policemen echo from his phone, and he quickly fumbled to grab it. His hands were sweaty, and he nearly dropped it, but he managed to get a good grip. Another robbery. He wanted to die.

That's when an idea struck him. He could find Velvet, surely they would be out, and ask them to take care of it! It didn’t seem like too bad of a robbery, something that they could take care of quickly, and he could keep hanging out with Y/N, assuming they would be down by then! By then, he would have his thoughts collected too, and could focus more on the project. It was genius!

He quietly slipped out the door, backpack in hand, and ran into an alleyway to change. He sloppily threw on his suit and swung into the night to find Velvet, optimistic energy filling him.

As soon as they locked eyes, they both started talking, the same amount of enthusiasm in both of their voices.

“Can you get this one for me?”

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, blinking.

“Spides, I need to get back to my friend, like now.”

“I’ve gotta get back to my friend too, please Velvet. I’ve covered for you so many times.”

“That’s not fair! I’ve covered for your ass way more!”

“Just this once, I promise.”

Velvet took a deep breath in. “Fine. But you owe me, BIG time.”

Peter pulled them in and gave them the biggest hug he could, nearly squishing them. “You have no idea what this means to me, I’ll pay you back I swear. I’ll bring you coffee to patrol tomorrow! You’re the best!”

Velvet squirmed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it! Now let go of me, I need to finish this and get back!”

“Okay, thank you again!” Peter said and let go of Velvet, swinging back to Y/N’s house with the dumbest grin on his face.

Peter realized he probably messed up when he checked the time again. It had been 10 minutes since he got back, and he had been sitting on the couch working on this chemistry project all by himself. Maybe Y/N really did just want to get away from him. He felt so dumb, to think that Y/N L/N could like him of all people. What was he thinking?

He heard those familiar footsteps walk down the steps again moments later, with much less momentum than before. He turned his head quickly to look over at them, this time noticing their black eye. All thoughts of insecurity left his mind for just a split second. “Oh my god, what happened?!”

“Nothing, Pete, I just fell, I promise!” They smiled a little at him, and he nodded, not wanting to drive them away again.

Okay, something changed. I left too long. He’s not interested anymore, they thought to themselves, and the panic set in. They sat next to him to work on the project, moving a bit close to him.

Peter looked at Y/N, and then at the project. He almost didn’t notice them moving closer, little by little. The second time it happened, he did, and blushed a little bit. He could feel the heat from their cheek, causing his to heat up too. Maybe he didn’t drive them away! God knows why they were in their room for so long, but he didn’t care anymore. As long as it wasn’t because they needed to get away from him, it didn’t matter.

Then their phone buzzed again. And again. They had to leave again and again, and it bothered them. Every time it buzzed, they got more irritable, wanting nothing more than to just silence it. This was supposed to be a quiet night, and while the fights were easy, they were frequent. Peter Parker had to wait, as sad as it was.

Peter was freaking out. He had to leave nine separate times. Spider-Man was needed for some reason every 5 minutes, and he was sure Y/N hated him at this point. He had to keep ditching them without any explanation. He hated it, but it had to be done. He had a duty to protect the city, even if Y/N was waiting for him.

Y/N ran back downstairs after their ninth time leaving and heard the front door open. Their head spun over. “If you’re breaking in, I will kill you! I’ve had way too many distractions tonight and I have had ENOUGH!”

Standing there was Peter Parker- no, Spider-Man- Peter Parker wearing Spiderman’s clothes? Y/N’s mind didn’t have enough time to process it all.

“Peter. Don’t tell me you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter froze. The mask was off and he was in his suit, standing directly in front of Y/N. He felt his whole body heat up from his nerves alone. There was no way he was going to get out of this, nothing he could say to change what Y/N had just seen. But maybe, if he could just pretend it didn’t happen, if he could just play it dumb perfectly, it would all work out nicely.

Y/N blinked as they watched Peter Parker slowly walk back out the door, shutting the door behind himself. Their mind raced a mile a minute, desperately trying to process what they just saw. Sleep deprived and out of it, they trusted their intuition. “No fucking shot,” they whispered with wide eyes and followed him.

Spider-Man stood leaning against the house, quickly slipping out of the superhero suit he had just gotten caught in mere seconds ago. I’m dead, I’m so dead, his subconscious yelled at him. They’re gonna know and they’re gonna want nothing to do with me. Oh my god, how are we gonna do this chemistry project? The quick and loud beat of his heart overtook his hearing, efficiently masking the sound of Y/N’s footsteps.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, get over here,” Y/N commanded, voice serious but gentle.

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t know what you think you saw, but I promise it wasn’t real. It’s just me, regular Peter Parker!” He stumbled over his words as he stared at Y/N, putting his full effort into forming a basic sentence. Normally, Peter was against gaslighting, but this time was an exception.

“Nope, zip it.”

He did. His gaslighting sucked anyway.

“You have had me running around all night, Peter Parker. I had to fight so much shit for you, I’ve gotten thrown into a wall at least five times tonight alone! I’ve gotten a bloody nose, a bloody lip, a black eye, who knows what else, just so I can come back here and kiss you! And you’re Spider-Man! And you’re telling me I could’ve just kissed you this whole time?! I’m wearing your stupid mask on my pajamas right now! I’m wearing these in front of you and you’re Spider-Man!” They kept their tangent going with a beat red face, giving Peter more time to process everything.

After taking a few moments to listen and breathe, it clicked in his mind. He took a deep breath in and blinked, looking back over at Y/N with a cocky grin. “Wait, wait wait. Go back. What do you mean.”

They paused and deadpanned. “You already know what I mean, Peter.”

“No, I know. I just wanna hear you say it,” he crossed his arms and smiled stupidly, confidence having risen to an almost stupid level.

They rolled their eyes, webbing his suit and pulling it over to them. “There, happy?!”

He leaned against the wall. “Nope, say it.”

“Say what. That I’m Velvet Spider? You already figured that out, unless you’re that dumb,” they retorted, half-joking and annoyed.

“That you were talking about me on the rooftop.”

Y/N froze for a second, having forgotten that whole conversation. “You mother fucker.”

Peter laughed cheekily, and for just a minute, everything felt somewhat calm. Neither of them were running around, trying desperately to save the city and get back to the other. It was just the two enjoying each other’s banter and the cool city breeze.

He smiled at them and tapped his hand against the house lightly. “So, d’ya kiss that guy yet?”

They blushed a little, looking away and rolling their eyes. “Kiss me, you stupid spider.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” And Peter Parker cupped Y/N’s face, kissing them gently. Although he waited for this moment since middle school, there was something more special about it knowing that Y/N had been the person he trusted most all along. It felt magical, it felt right.

Not one bit of their chemistry project got done that night, as they stayed on the couch watching stupid movies and feeling relief for the first time since the night started.

As long as they had each other, those busy nights didn’t feel as bad anymore.

[spencestyles]

The Other Woman

summary: spencer and meave have a toxic relationship after saving diane and the new agent doesn’t help

pairing: meave x spencer, spencer x BAU!reader

warnings: angst (lowkey), cursing, broken relationship, fluff

words: 4k+

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the team and I stopped Diane from killing Maeve, things were different. When I dreamed about meeting Maeve, I thought things would be perfect, we would be a match made in heaven. But after finding out important things she felt to leave out (like she was engaged), the spark was seeming to fade and just genuinely getting to know her personality. Of course our new agent wasn't any help either.

y/n y/l/n

She was different from any other girl I had met. She was smart and a great listener, she was determined to keep learning. She didn't try to outsmart me like Maeve had begun to do. Her biggest talent and asset to the team was her interrogation skills.

"Brian, I know how you are feeling," y/n said to the unsub. "You are upset your dad left you and upset that he left you with your mother."

"She was never a mother," Brian screamed. "That dirty whore didn't know her left from her right."

"The girls?" y/n asked. "Did they know their right from their left?"

"I wouldn't know, I didn't do anything to them," Brian said.

"Well I do, I looked into their background, all single mothers, husband left. They weren't dirty Brian, they were doin-"

"YES THEY WERE. They are all whores. I tried to help them, to help their children. But they were just like she was, a whore."

Since the first day she arrived, I've been enthralled by her presence. Maeve asked to move in around a month ago, I said no. She was so upset it was almost pitiful. It had been an argument that continued for weeks and was heated tonight at our at home dinner date. "Why, Spencer, why can't I move in with you?" She yelled at me.

"Because I barely know you," I yelled back, quickly calming down. "We may have been talking on the phone, but we have known each other in person for five months. I just, Meave, I'm going through a rough time at work. It wouldn't be good for you to move in right now." I made a large breath as Maeve roughly stood up from the table.

"Is there someone else?" Maeve asked. "That new agent, (wrong name), or whatever-"

"y/n"

"Like I said, whatever. Are you talking to her, is there something going on?"

"Maeve, there is nothing going on between y/n and I," I explained. "She is a new agent, she is young, she is like I was when I joined the BAU. I am just trying to help her get settled."

"Why can't JJ do that? She was young when she joined."

"Because JJ was the communications liaison then, she didn't become a profiler until two years ago."

"Whatever," Maeve said, grabbing her purse. "I'm leaving, I need to think."

Thank God

"Ok, we need to talk about this," I said. Maeve muttered something before slamming the door.

Moments like this made me question the relationship I created with Maeve. Maybe it's because I never really knew her. I knew her job and that she was smart, but I didn't know how clingy she was or bitchy and competitive. I don't blame Diane for being so upset. Why was she so upset about y/n, I mean y/n is gorgeous and smart. But she is so young, she's only 24. Tomorrow was going to be a good day, tomorrow I was finally going to make some decisions about Maeve.

Waking up the next morning felt like a chore. The sound of my phone going off was much worse than my alarm clock.

"Reid."

"Spencie, it's y/n," the angelic voice I was longing to hear was music to my ears at 3 in the morning. "We have a case, JJ called me and told me to call you. Which thinking about it is a little strange- wait that's not the point of this call. I need you to pick me up."

"Yeah I can come get you," I said rushing around. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thanks Spencie, I owe you big time."

Running around my room, I tried to pick my best outfit. y/n loved when I dressed in blue or purple, so I decided I would dress in blue this fine morning. My light blue button down and my tight navy pants, made me look a sexy professional as I would say, so would Derek (and hopefully y/n). I hated driving, but I would never tell y/n that, she is too cute when singing in the car for me to say no to her.

On my way to her apartment (which was very small and in a terrible area), I began to think about what y/n said on the call. JJ called me and told me to call you. Why wouldn't JJ just call me. I mean I do tell JJ about my problems with Maeve and my schoolboy crush on y/n, but she was so upset when I first said it.

"Maeve is literally your dream girl Spence, why are you trying to stop that? And for y/n, now I know she is smart and wow, she is hot, but Spence, she is 24. She still has a lot of growing up to do. Also, I didn't work my ass off to save Maeve for you to end things with her."

JJ was right, y/n was too young and too naive to know what she wanted. Hell, I didn't even know what I wanted. I fell for a girl over the phone and then realized she's not at all what I thought. I should have known.

Arriving at y/n's apartment building I texted her a quick 'here' before noticing her car tire had been slashed. The passenger door opened and y/n sat down handing me a large coffee in her typical reusable to-go cups. "y/n you didn't have to bring me coffee," I said.

"Spence, it's three in the morning and you are driving," you said with a straight face. "I brought you the coffee so you wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel and we would die." I laughed before taking a big swig of the drink and heading to the office.

"I saw your tire had been slashed, what happened?"

"I don't know, JJ called me so I went out to get my go-bag from the car because I left my good mug in it and I saw the tire was slashed. I have no idea how it happened or why, it's really annoying though, I just got new tires." The situation with y/n's tire was strange, I mean she lives in a complex where nearly twenty cars are out front if they aren't in the back lot. Why only her car? Maybe it was nothing special, just a coincidence.

y/n heard my phone ring and looked at the screen, "It's Maeve," showing me the screen. "Why is your girlfriend calling you at 3:30 in the morning?"

"I have no clue y/n, leave it to ring out. I'll get to her later."

This has happened before. When I drop y/n off from a case that ran late or after a night with the team. I get calls and texts from Maeve enraged. Does she honestly not understand we work together. We live less than six minutes from each other, so when we ride together it's not like either of us are going out of our way.

After spending most of the car ride singing to Taylor Swift, we arrived at Quantico and rushed to the elevators. We weren't late, but y/n liked to be early so she didn't look sweaty for the team.

"Why do you hate looking sweaty?" I asked her.

"Well, when our Unit Chief is a TOTAL dilf, I'd like to at least look nice," she said smiling. I frowned. "Kidding Spence, not totally, but I like to look nice because I am still proving my spot on this team and good hygiene is very respectable."

Of course she has a crush on Hotch, not that she has daddy issues or anything. But they are so close and the validation he gives her is a bit too much to be work appropriate. I'm honestly just so glad its not Derek she has a crush on.

"That makes sense, I'm going to call Maeve to she what she needed," I said stepping towards the conference room. "She's been calling me non stop." y/n nodded as she rubbed paper towels on her armpits.

Right as I was about to dial Maeve, her name flashed across my screen, "Hello."

"Spencer, what the hell," she screamed. "Why were you at y/n's at three in the morning."

"Maeve, tell me where I am right now," I said.

"You are at work Spencer," She answered. "But that is besides the point. Why did YOU pick her up?"

"BECAUSE WE WERE GOING TO WORK AND SHE LIVES SIX MINUTES FROM ME," I yelled, tired of her assumptions and bitchy, clingy behavior. "JJ called y/n and told her to tell me we had a case and her car's tire was slashed so she asked for a ride. There is no harm in that."

Maeve let out a large breath, "I don't want you around her anymore."

"What, I can't do that, we work together," I laughed.

"Quit," she said shortly. "Or tell Hotch that she is terrible to work with and isn't qualified for the team."

"Maeve, you are angry. I'm not quitting and y/n is very qualified at her job, Hotch wouldn't believe me."

"Then why do you help her if she's qualified?"

"I told you that last night, this conversation is over." I hung up the phone hearing her protests. I looked over and saw the team looking at me, they obviously had heard the interaction. y/n looked confused. Why was she being brought into this?

The team walked into the conference room, "Garcia, you can begin," Hotch said. Turning to me he said, "We will talk about this before we leave." I nodded. I didn't listen to Garcia presenting the case, but I looked at y/n. She looked like she had been crying, I don't know why, hopefully it wasn't me. After the presentation, Hotch gave us thirty minutes to gather ourselves before we needed to be on the jet.

He pulled me into his office, "What was that in the conference room?"

"Maeve thinks I'm cheating on her with y/n," I said. "It's not a big deal."

Hotch looked at me sternly, "Well it becomes a big deal when our newest agent tells me she should transfer because she doesn't like that she's interfering with your relationship. Now y/n cannot be transferred, she is an asset to this team and the team loves her. You need to sort your shit out with Maeve." I nodded and walked out the door over to y/n's desk where she was getting her small things together.

As soon as she saw me walking over, she began to walk away, "y/n wait."

"I'm going to see Penelope," She said, not looking at me. Even without looking directly at me, the tear stains were evident.

I looked over at JJ who had seen the whole interaction, "JJ what do I do?"

"Well Spencer, you need to either break up with Maeve or get over your crush on y/n," She said sarcastically. "In my opinion, you should break up with Maeve anyway. After hearing that phone call, I think she sounded toxic and manipulative. Give y/n some space, she just got a lot thrown at her. She thinks she's a homewrecker."

I sighed, "I know I need to end things with Maeve, but I feel so horrible."

"You feel horrible even though she treats you like that?" JJ asked, shocked.

"I just don't want her to think I led her on or I actually was cheating on her with y/n."

"You may not be cheating on her with y/n, but Spence," I looked up at her. "You like y/n, you can't deny that. y/n still is the other woman, whether its intimate or not."

JJ was right, I was about to walk up to Penelope's office when Derek reminded us we had to leave. Looking ahead, I saw y/n talking with Hotch. She looked upset and Hotch looked concerned, but when he looked over at me, he was pissed.

As we made it to the entrance of the jet, I told JJ and Derek I would meet them on the jet, wanting to talk to Hotch, "Hey, what did y/n say to you?"

"She told me this was her last case," Hotch said. "She gave Strauss resignation forms and is going to be an elementary art teacher. Now she isn't even transferring. Fix this now or you will be suspended from cases and you will be staying back and doing paperwork until I see fit. You and your relationship problems should not have led to y/n leaving the team."

To say I was shocked was an understatement. y/n was leaving the team. She was leaving because of me. Because I was so enchanted by her smile and the slight gleam in her eye.

Worst of all, she isn't even staying in the FBI. She is going to do the job she said she always wanted to do after the FBI. y/n always told me she wanted to stay in the FBI and then when it got to be too much, she wanted to teach art.

You may say I'm a terrible person for basically emotionally cheating on Maeve, but Maeve and I would never work in the long run. She may have been my back then, but she will never be my forever.

Walking onto the jet, I felt the hostile stares of my teammates. y/n sat at the corner of the jet, alone, reading her favorite book, Little Women. While the book is very boring in my opinion, I understand the appeal to y/n. A strong female lead who doesn't believe in the common standards in her time period. Much like Jo March, y/n was strong willed. She always put up a challenge to the ideas she opposed.

I unfortunately, was Theodore Lawrence in this situation. In love with Jo March, but I needed to show it to her. The only and strongest difference was that I am in a relationship.

I need to end it with Maeve.

That however, will be easier said than done. Maeve is much like Amy March: annoying, greedy, easily angered, jealous, and most of all the one that is settled for.

But no, I, Spencer Reid, will not settle for Amy, I am going to get Jo.

I was walking over to y/n when I was stopped by Rossi, "Don't make it any worse than it already is, kid." Appalled, I looked at him and then the team. Their faces all said the same thing only Rossi was able to make into words. I decided to sit not near them and not near y/n. I sat by myself and created a plan to keep y/n at the BAU.

The plan went as so:

1. Convince y/n to stay and explain relationship problems with Maeve

2. Break up with Maeve

3. Tell y/n what truly happened with Maeve (phone calls, kidnapping, and after)

4. Tell y/n feelings (and pray she feels the same)

This plan was definitely going to be easier said than done. The hardest part being breaking up with Maeve.

The case wasn't eventful and easy to figure out. The unsub was killing people who looked like his wife that left him at the altar. Not once did Hotch put me with y/n, understandably. Instead, y/n spent her time with JJ and Hotch.

I decided to not talk to anyone because I needed to devise my plan. I needed to break up with Maeve, but make sure I kept y/n out of it. That was going to be the challenge, Maeve was going to blame the break up on y/n. I decided to text Maeve a quick 'jet is landing. I'm coming over. We have things to discuss.'

I turned off my phone, knowing Maeve would start blowing it up. The jet landed and I went to begin step one, but Derek stopped me from going towards her further, "Pretty Boy, I know you want things to get right with Pretty Girl, but give her space. Just a little and sort things out with Maeve. After hearing what JJ and y/n have said about her, you should end things.

I nodded and sprinted to my car, seeing as y/n got a ride with Penelope. The ride over to Maeve's house was tense, even though I was alone. I couldn't stop thinking of the outcomes that could occur tonight.

Making it to Maeve's apartment, I kept reciting all the things I could say to her.

"I don't feel a spark anymore." Decent.

"You are a controlling bitch." Too harsh.

"I never really knew you." Getting there.

"I think we need to try new things." Fuck. I had made it to the door and I didn't know what to say without the possibility of hurting her. Breaking up with her is the only thing I can do to save my friendship with y/n. Its also the only thing I can do to save myself from this toxic mess of a relationship.

I knocked on the door and it was immediately opened by a very angry Maeve, "Spencer, finally you are here. You were taking so long I thought something may have happened, were you with y/n?"

"No Maeve, I wasn't with y/n," I sighed. "In fact we aren't even talking."

"Well that's perfect," Maeve said. "Why do you look upset about that?"

I looked at her surprised she didn't understand, "Because Maeve, she heard our fucking fight yesterday morning over the phone. She isn't talking to me because she thinks she ruined our relationship-"

"She did-"

"NO SHE DIDN'T MEAVE!" I screamed. "y/n is leaving the team because you are jealous of anyone in my life. First it was JJ, so I pushed JJ away. Then Derek, so I pushed Derek away. You have ruined all of my friendships with my coworkers and are now making work a living hell. y/n didn't ruin our relationship because it was already fucking ruined Maeve. How did you not see it?”

"What? Spence?" Maeve went to touch my arm.

I stepped away, "No Maeve, this is over. We are over. After we stopped Diane, I thought we would be perfect. But we aren't, we aren't good for each other at all. Whenever I accomplish anything at all, big or small, you fucking disregard it and talk about something you did. I am helping y/n, I like y/n. y/n is nice and she listens to my facts and she doesn't judge me for having feelings."

"Spencer, do you think I do that?" Maeve asked with a fake sweet act.

"Think? No Maeve, you do all of those things. Yesterday you told me to quit my job or tell Hotch y/n wasn't qualified. You should be supporting me. This relationship is not good for me. I am leaving, none of your stuff is at my place so you don't need to come over ever again." I quickly left the apartment, ignoring Maeve's pleas for forgiveness.

Sitting in my car, I quickly drove off to y/n's house. I needed to see her, to explain to her what had been happening.

YOUR POV

When I met Spencer, he was my mentor. Very quickly after that however, he became my best friend on the team. Since we lived so close together, it was common for us to carpool to and from work and work events.

I quickly learned about Maeve once I began to get closer with Spencer. Spencer's manipulative, psycho bitch of a girlfriend that was out to ruin my life. I had never done anything to try and involve myself in their relationship, but when they have problems it's always my fault.

After hearing Maeve and Spencer's phone call, it was a no brainer for me to leave the team. However, I knew that wasn't enough for me to get rid of the taunts I had been receiving from Maeve. And by taunts I mean she slashed my tire. I was offered a job at one of DC's most prestigious private schools to teach art and after the phone call, I decided to take it.

Now, I wasn't upset that Spencer didn't like me back. I was upset that Maeve was making him decide between us when nothing had ever happened. I thought Spencer was cute, definitely, and there were times when we were a little too touchy or flirtatious. But, I saw it as Penelope and Derek and I'm sure he did too.

I sat in Penelope's car trying to focus on the road whilst she was screaming at me, "WHY ARE YOU LEAVING? You can't leave y/n. You just got here and we like you here. Maeve and Spencer have had problems for a few months, it's not because of you. JJ and Maeve also got in a fight because he thought Spencer was too handsy with her and I've barely ever seen them touch.”

"Pen, I'm leaving because I have a great job opportunity," I tried to reason. "I was eventually going to take it, but I don't want to hurt Spencer's relationship." Penelope sighed, giving up her attempt to have me stay. We got our Wendy's before Penelope went to drop me off.

As Penelope drove up to my apartment, I noticed a figure standing in front of my house. It looked familiar.

Spencer

"Pen, so you think I can stay over tonight?" I asked.

"No, go talk to pretty boy, have him explain," Penelope responded.

I walked up to my apartment, Spencer looked at me. His face lighting up under my front porch light. He had flowers in his hands. Daisies. "Spencer, what are you doing here?"

SPENCER'S POV

"Spencer, what are you doing here?"

"If you'd let me in I think you need to know what has been happening," I said handing her the flowers.

"Okay, come in," She said grabbing the flowers and unlocking the door. "That you for the flowers."

"Daisies are your favorite," I said quietly. "You never told me, but you always said you liked the name Daisy for your daughter and I just assumed."

"You guessed correctly Spencer," y/n said putting the daisies in a jar.

I sat on her couch, the one I had sat on to watch countless episodes of Dr. Who when I needed to get away from Maeve.

"Can I explain?" I asked as she walked over with a coffee.

"Sure Spencer, but I don't think any explanation will make me stay," she answered.

I sighed, "Well you know the whole Maeve back story right?" she nodded. "Well after we saved her things were great. I was happy, so happy and so in love. But around the time I started to die down from the holy shit you just almost died phase, I began to notice all the flaws and toxic traits in her and our relationship."

y/n nodded, "And you couldn't see any of that before because you only ever talked over the phone?"

"Correct. Maeve, she is very smart. So smart that she often would say things to undermine the fact I went into the FBI and as she would say instead of something useful. At first I thought it was a harmless joke, but when she began to say things like that in front of the team, it crossed a line. When I confronted her, she accused me of lying, saying she never said anything like that. She has always been decently jealous, she was jealous of JJ and even jealous of Alex Blake. Blake's spot is the one you filled, she was like a mom to me. Now, she is jealous of you.”

y/n looked motionless, "Why is she jealous of me Spencer?"

I looked over at her nervously, "y/n we are very close right?"

"Yes, Spencer, you're like my best friend."

I nodded, "yes and Maeve didn't like that. She was very jealous of you because at one team dinner before you joined, Garcia showed us a picture of you from Instagram. When everyone saw the picture, everyone was like wow she is so pretty and you know, you are very gorgeous and I'm a bad liar so I agreed. Maeve and I got into a huge fight because of that. Ever since, she is like really jealous and then we sorta became a mentor, mentee relationship because you are so young and I was so young when I joined.”

y/n looked surprised. Did she not know the team thought that about her. However, y/n nodded, telling me to continue.

"Then I realized how close we lived and we started to carpool and hang out. This was when the aggressive texts and phone calls began. The team knew I needed to break up with her, but I didn't want to make it look like we were seeing each other, you would never like someone like me.”

y/n laughed, "She was jealous because we carpooled? Did you know she was the one that slashed my tire that morning, I got a clip of it on my Ring doorbell."

"Seriously? Sounds about right. Anyway, I broke up with her. She isn't what I want y/n. I want to be with you. And I know you might not like me and-"

y/n cut me off with a laugh, "Spencer are you serious?" I looked at her confused. "I have had a crush on you since I first met the team. I was heartbroken when I found out you had a girlfriend."

"Actually?"

"Spence, why would I lie to you?"

"Will you come back to the BAU?"

"I'll talk to Strauss, but I think if we want to do anything we should wait. I don't want people to actually think we were having an affair."

I laughed, "Definitely not. You were the other woman though. Kept me up all night thinking, dreaming. You infatuate me y/n y/l/n."

"Well I am very glad we got that done with," y/n said. "Watching you with Maeve was like watching the end of Derrick and Addison's relationship on Grey's Anatomy."

"What?"

"Never mind Spence, we will have to save this topic for another day."

—————

in light of the recent allegations against mgg, i will no longer be posting mgg content. however, mgg is not spencer reid, spencer reid is a character. please understand that at this moment i am working on a new username

* IF ANYONE HAS NEW USERNAME IDEAS PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME or i may just be changing to spencerscumslut

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 || werewolf!Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: being the sherriff’s department’s crime scene photographer means seeing terrible things.  following lee bodecker into the woods means experiencing terrible things.

word count: almost exactly 4k

warnings: smut (noncon but she comes around eventually, if you will), werewolf sex (so...pseudo-bestiality??? but like... not really??), breeding kink, knotting, some a/b/o tropes?, kinda some degradation?,  violence, vague-ish description of gore

Something undeniably wicked was lurking in the woods behind Knockemstiff, Ohio.  That much was obvious.

It wasn’t your first gig as a crime scene photographer, so you knew what to expect; or, you thought you did.  This town was nothing like Toledo, though, in all the worst ways.  You’d left the big city in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see another drive-by shooting, another stockbroker who jumped out of his office, another mafia job left out in the street to serve as an example for would-be testifiers.  You’d left to escape some of the brutality that the urban environment brought.  And to be fair, it wasn’t anything like that, but it wasn’t at all better.  

You’d never seen a cut this deep before.  You’d never seen a body nearly turned inside out.

“It’s that damn bear,” the officer nearby announced, his words failing to distract you from your task of photographing the bloodied remains.  “This happened a couple months ago, body just like this turned up.  Thought we shot the damn thing but I guess we got the wrong one.”

“That can’t be right,” you frowned, stepping back and lowering the camera from your face; it looked worse when it wasn’t seen through the viewfinder, it looked more real.  “Bears might maul people, but they don’t… eat them.”

“They do if they get hungry enough,” he sighed.  

“Do you really believe that?” you pressed.

“I need to.”

The conversation was still echoing in your head as you drove back to the station, which was still bustling despite the day being just about to end.  

You stopped by your desk to grab a folder from your top drawer, "FOR SHERIFF" written in big letters on the front.  Tucking it under your arm, you navigated through the officers and secretaries mulling about to the back hallway of the station, finding the last door on the left and knocking even though it was already halfway open.

“Good evenin’ little lady,” Sheriff Bodecker greeted with a smile when he looked up at you, “got somethin’ for me?”

“Photos from yesterday,” you explained, stepping inside and setting the folder down on his desk.  He opened it and flipped through your shots, nodding slightly.  

"Looks good," he praised— gruff and monotone, but praise nonetheless.  "I think it's enough to prove who was driving recklessly and who was just driving."

"Think they'll be all right?" you asked, remembering how one of the car crash survivors looked as they were being wheeled into an ambulance.

He sighed a little, setting the folder down.  "Seems so, last I heard."

"That's good…" you trailed off, toying with the strap of your camera nervously, studying his face as he looked down at some paperwork in front of him.

You were a career woman, working in a male-dominated profession, and you had so much to prove… but god, if you didn't sometimes fantasize about the Sheriff in ways you knew you shouldn't.  In spite of the fact that you were sure he wanted an obedient housewife, and that that was something you could never be, you'd been known to daydream about another life where he wasn't your boss and you weren't so worried about what other people thought and the two of you could be together.

Or, on other occasions, you just wished Knockemstiff was as liberal as Toledo, so you could have a fling with him and not worry about everybody calling you a harlot.

Either way, it could never happen.  You worked with him and he worked with you; he was looking to settle down and you were looking to start your life.  It was a basic incompatibility.  That didn't stop you from letting your gaze linger on his hands, admiring how strong and thick they were.  God, you wish he'd just grab you—

"Anything else I can do for ya?" he asked slowly, that deep voice making the question sound just a bit more dirty than he likely meant it.

"No, that'll be all," you decided, giving him a polite nod before you slipped out of his office.  

Sometimes, it felt like the only chance you got to really think during the day was when you were alone in your darkroom.  The photo development equipment here was significantly more primitive than what the Toledo Police Department had been able to provide, but you didn’t mind; if anything, it brought you back to your roots, when you were just a newbie photographer who wanted to make compelling art, take photos that would end up on magazine covers or beside hard-hitting journalism.  

That dream had been dashed quite some time ago, but you really did enjoy your job more often than not.  Sure, it came with a lot of gruesome imagery, but at least it was important, and interesting.  

You couldn't be sure what time it was— with no windows and no clocks, and with hours always flying by when you were developing film— but the lack of any noise from outside your darkroom made it clear that it was quite late and everyone had left.

It was odd, then, that you did hear a noise from outside the room, like floorboards creaking.  You were ready to blame the old building settling until you heard it again.

“...hello?” you asked hesitantly, the sterile echo of your voice only making you just that much more paranoid.  “Is someone there?  I’m just here developing my film…”

The red lights cast everything in an eerie glow— bright enough to see, but not enough to assuage your fear.

You opened the door to your darkroom slowly, careful not to let too much light in, and peered down the dark, empty halls.  An uneasy feeling awakened in your gut and you swallowed nothing before hesitantly stepping out into the dark.

Another creak from around the corner made you turn, walking towards the noise and considering calling out again but suddenly afraid to speak at all.

A man's form appeared in front of you out of nowhere.

“Oh!” you gasped, but you sighed a bit when you recognized the badge glistening on his chest.  “Sheriff, shit, you scared me…”

“Sorry, little lady,” he breathed, “didn’t know you were still here…”

“Come in, if I leave this door open too long it’ll let light in,” you explained, pointing to where the street lamp outside shined into the window and ushering him past you into the darkroom.

“What’re you still wearin’ that damn camera for?” he asked, pointing to your hip where it was slung at your side from over your shoulder, making you giggle a little as you shut the door behind the both of you.

“Force of habit.  Never know when something worth photographing might take place,” you explained, returning to the tub of ammonium thiosulfate where you were dipping another glossy print.  

“If somethin’ worth takin’ a picture of happens while you’re stuck in here, I think you’ll’ve got bigger problems than not having your camera,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” you scoffed.  “Let’s hope I never need to take pictures like these—” you tilted your head towards the pictures you’d hung to try— “unexpectedly.”  Lee sauntered over to where you’d motioned, pulling one the more developed photos from the clothespins.  “That’s the body we found in the woods,” you informed him, “I’m surprised you weren’t called in— it’s pretty gnarly.”

“Sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to see stuff like this,” he shook his head, sighing somberly.  

“I can handle it,” you shrugged, “Believe it or not, I saw worse working mob cases.”

“I’m going with ‘not,’” he answered quickly.  

He was right not to believe you, and you weren’t sure what to say now that he’d called your bluff.

“What… what perfume are you wearing?”

The question threw you off but you figured no harm could come from answering honestly.  “I’m, uh, I’m not…”

He stepped closer, his footsteps soft but audible on the carpeted floor as his form settled behind yours.  Your breath caught when his fingers trailed over your arm and he leaned in, pressing his face to the side of your head as he breathed in.  “You smell good,” he stated plainly, deep voice vibrating in your ears and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Um… thank you…” you answered, hearing your voice waver.  

Just when you thought he might make a move (was this already a move?), and just when you thought you might actually reciprocate if he did, he pulled away.  “I should… I’m sorry, I oughta— I have work to get done.”

Before you could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, he had already slipped out of the darkroom and back into the hall.  Oddly enough, you were sure you heard him start running the second the door was shut.  You considered shrugging it off and getting back to work, but the more you thought about it, the more you were worried.  Most of all, you wondered if he had seen something in your photographs that gave him a lead on what killed the poor old man.  

That possibility needed to be investigated further.

So, you powered down your equipment and left the darkroom, leaving just in time to see the Sheriff stumble out of the back door of the station, seeming to be limping slightly.

Too curious now to stay away, you followed his path and pushed the door open with your weight, seeing him making a mad dash for the nearby treeline.

“No, Lee, the woods—!” you warned, horrified to imagine that he could meet the same fate as the man in your photographs.  You weren’t dressed well enough for the weather— already the evening breeze blew against your bare legs and made you shiver— but you forged ahead regardless.

The moon light was just enough to illuminate your path at first, but as the clouds moved and the tree cover grew thicker, squinting just didn’t do enough to help you see.  Generally, you weren’t afraid of the dark, but this was different… it was cold, and you were alone; but you didn’t feel quite as alone as you would’ve liked to.  You called out for Lee, only hearing the gentle rustle of the leaves and the occasional snapping of twigs on the ground.

At about the same time you considered turning back and using one of the station phones to call some officers for a search, you heard something.  A whine, maybe, or a whimper.  You weren’t sure what it was; it only just barely sounded human.

“Lee, are you out there?” you called, whipping your head around wildly.  

In desperate need of light to navigate your way, you had a moment of insight and reached for the camera slung by your hip.  You relieved yourself of the shoulder strap, pointed the camera ahead, and opened up the flash.

CLICK.  A brief moment of light gave you at least an idea of where you were standing.  It was impossible not to notice how similar it looked to the background of the photos you had just been developing.  You realized, then, that you’d worried so much for Lee’s safety in these woods, but hadn’t considered your own.

Lee, at least, had a gun.  You just had a camera.  Both could shoot, but only one could protect you.

CLICK.  You moved in the direction that you remembered as clear.  It was even harder to see in the dark after the bright light had burned your eyes slightly, and you longed to reach out ahead to feel out your path yet found yourself too terrified of what you might touch.  You could hear the flash charging between shots, you knew well enough by now what it sounded like when the camera was ready to shoot again.

CLICK.  Something white reflected back in the distance, so you moved that way, nearly tripping on a root for your trouble.  

The cloud over the moon finally blew away, and just barely— finally— your eyes could make out the shape of Lee, leaned against a tree and breathing deep and fast.  His back was turned to you, but even then you could see he didn’t look well, his back bending and swelling with each panting breath that grew louder as you stepped closer.

“Oh my god, Sheriff?!” you squawked, sprinting closer.  “Are you alright?” you asked loudly, but when you reached out to touch him he spun to look at you, eyes wild and teeth bared.

“Leave,” he growled between panting breaths.

“You… you’re…” you tried to begin, but you were speechless as you tried to imagine what trick of the light could make him look like he was getting taller, like his eyes and face were shifting.

“GO!” he bellowed.

You stumbled back, dropping your camera but too terrified to even hear the bulb shatter as it hit the ground.  Your legs couldn’t move right, your eyes couldn’t look away from what you were seeing, and what you were seeing… you couldn’t describe it, couldn’t understand it.  

It didn’t look like what scary stories and picture books told you a werewolf was.  It didn’t look like an animal; it sure as hell didn’t look like a person.  Disturbingly, it still looked a bit like Lee, even though his Sheriff’s uniform was tearing at the seams from his morphing, swelling body.  His cries were broken and twisted as his face seemed to be overtaken by teeth— so many teeth— and dark fur.  

Ultimately, one last command to "go" was lost to a howl.

You finally managed to get your brain and body on the same page, turning and scrambling to run away, hearing him chase behind you.  

He walked on two legs but ran on four, his snarls coming closer and closer as you made a mad dash for the distant light of the police station.  Cold wind blew past you as you sprinted, coming to a sudden halt as you tripped and landed on the ground.  Leaves crunched under your hands and feet as you tried to stand back up, but he was already above you, tossing you to the ground again and pinning you at your shoulders.

You tried to kick him away once he'd turned you into your back, but it was laughable— pitiful, even.  When he curled his lips back to brandish his glistening fangs, growling deeply, you were too stunned to fight.  But you could beg.

“Lee, please, please don’t eat me,” you sobbed.

“I didn’t turn to feed,” he informed you, and it almost sounded like Lee, aside from the depth and roughness that shook you to your core.  “I turned to mate.”

“No…” you whispered, denial more than rejection— and as you looked down between your body and his where he hovered over you, you choked on your breath at the sight of his cock, erect and reddened and.... for lack of a better word, enormous.

You weren’t excessively familiar with human cocks (not all the rumors about the new girl who moved here from the city were true), but this one seemed different than what you’d seen, most notably in the size but additionally in how you could see it pulsing and throbbing.  His teeth were bared as his claw-laden hands grabbed your legs, lifting and spreading them.  Your stupid dress just fell away and exposed you easily, like it didn’t even care that he was a monster.

Your panties were already damp, like you didn’t even care that he was a monster.

A deep breath in through his snout-like nose made it clear he was picking up your scent.  He grinned and you shuddered.

You’d seen how deep those claw marks could go, so you were surprised when he was delicate enough to tear your clothes off without ripping your skin.  The fear that he could or would, though, kept your heart pumping plenty fast— or maybe that was because of his dark blue eyes scanning your nude form hungrily.

He adjusted your hips as he held you with his… paws, one might call them, pulling you closer and bumping his thick, swollen head against your entrance.

"No, you can't—" you stammered, not sure if you meant morally or physically.  There was no way that would fit in you, right?  There was no way Lee would force himself on you… right?

The noise you made when he pushed into your channel was, ironically, animalistic.  His intrusion stretched you wide and filled you deep, and he wasted no time in setting a brutal pace that slammed his rough, strong thighs against the back of your soft ones.

Fear paralyzed you, made you unwilling and unable to fight back.  He was all claws and teeth— where could you reach to try to push him away, without the extremely high risk of him just biting your weak little hand off?  No, it was better that you just laid there, whimpering and sobbing and trying with all your might not to moan at the feeling of being fucked, hard, in the woods, by a beast.

His tongue on your neck was an odd sensation, another way he forced you to acknowledge that this wasn’t normal— because no human tongue was this long, this thick and hot, nor surrounded by sharp teeth that grazed your jaw and cheek.

“Gonna breed you,” he informed you coldly.  It made you squirm beneath him with renewed vigor, desperate not to be filled with the seed of— well, of anyone, but especially not this thing.  Could it get you pregnant, were you even biologically compatible?  You didn’t want to find out.  

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“If you hate it so much then why is your cunt sucking me in so tight?” he whispered gruffly against your ear before licking it, too, with that cursed tongue.

His question was probably rhetorical, but either way you couldn’t answer it— you had no idea why your body was submitting so easily, why your walls welcomed him so eagerly, why your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer.  Further, you had no idea why you were about to come.

Numbness and sensitivity warred across your body, everything feeling tighter and hotter and heavier until you finally snapped and your body shook and convulsed.  His arms reached beneath where your back was arching, and you clutched at his shoulders as your fingers weaved into the fur you found there.

Of course he didn’t stop when you reached your peak, he wouldn’t stop for anything now, so you were forced to take him just as deep and hard as always even as your body went limp and became overwhelmingly sensitive.  It was clear, then, that your pleasure was only collateral damage to him; he was using your body for whatever he wanted, to sate his biological drive to impregnate something.  Like everything else about this, it was disgusting yet annoyingly arousing.

It's hard to say how long you laid there, limply jolting with each of his thrusts, dripping your arousal onto the cold earth beneath you, moaning weakly as you alternated between pleading for mercy and pleading for more.  You watched the clouds blow through the night sky, afraid to look up at his monstrous face, at his pointed ears and shining teeth.  Occasionally you glanced down and noted the way your stomach bulged from the size of him; you couldn't look at that anymore because it would either make you sick or make you come again.

You gurgled and choked as you felt his cock swelling inside you— bigger, wider, until your body was stretched beyond its limits.

"Take my knot," he instructed darkly, "my little bitch."

Disturbingly, you realized he probably wasn't calling you that to insult you: it was literal.  You were his breeding bitch, a womb to carry his litter, and you whined at the way it made your gut sink in shame.

His noises were more animal-like than ever while he came inside you, thick come all but pouring into you as he panted and growled.  Funny thing was, it just didn't stop: he kept coming for so long, giving you so much while the knot kept every drop inside.

You'd never felt so full in your life, of anything, let alone hot come that made you feel warm and sticky and dripping wet.

The knot kept you plugged and showed no signs of going down as he caged your body in, nuzzling into your neck.  He could bite you now and end it all, but you weren't afraid of that since he seemed to have found a better purpose for you.  His heavy breathing made his back rise and curve above you, his clawed hands pinning your wrists beside your head while he started to lick and nibble at your ear, neck, and collarbone.

You didn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep until you awoke in the wee hours of the morning— that time just before sunrise where there's light but no real color in the sky yet— with Lee asleep on top of you.  Regular Lee, that is, naked with no fur whatsoever and a normal cock that had softened inside you.

Okay, maybe "normal" was a strong word considering it was still pretty big and deliciously thick despite not even being hard anymore, but at the very least totally human.

"Lee," you whispered harshly, shaking him to try to wake him up.  "Sheriff."

He stirred, and his cock moved inside you; the subtle stimulation on your sore insides made you moan lowly and involuntarily squeeze your walls around him.  That got his attention, and you heard his breathing change beside your ear before he groaned a little.

"Mornin'," he greeted, his grin audible in his tone as he sat up slightly and looked down at you.  You reached up and brushed your hand over his chest, happy to find a much thinner layer of hair there than last night.  "Of all the times I woke up in this forest with no fuckin' idea what happened the night before… this has got to be my favorite."

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked.

"I told you to run… I must've caught you, huh…"

You nodded and bit your lip.  

"You know I can't stop, when I'm like that… I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," you sighed, "you didn't— it wasn't you."

"But it's my seed in you," he remembered, his words sending a little tingle up your spine.  

He must have felt it, must have seen your eyes widen or heard you gasp a little, because he grinned proudly as he looked down at you.

"Oh, you really love it, huh?  Love bein' mine…"

His hands held your arms tight as he pinned them down, making you whimper a little while he leaned in to suck on your neck.

"Love bein' bred like a bitch, ain't that right?"

You heard the deep, desperate moan before you even realized it had come from your mouth, his chuckle beside your ear making your heart twist.

"Yeah, I can tell… who knew you were so dirty, little lady?  Sweet girl like you shouldn't be gettin' off on being ravaged in the woods by a monster."

"Y-you're not a monster," you protested weakly.

"I eat people," he reminded you, letting go of your hands which you instantly weaved into his hair.

"Well, that's… everybody's got flaws, that's all."

"Yeah?  And what's yours?" he teased.

"I've got a crush on my boss," you answered with a grin, "and I came harder than I ever have in my life being fucked by… what are you?"

"The clinical term is lycanthrope."

"Right," you nodded, "that."

"And what would a pretty girl like you have a crush on me for, hm?"

"I dunno," you smiled coyly, running a finger down his chest, "guess I just thought you were cute…"

"Cute?!" he scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah… and sweet… you know, you go around actin' all tough and stuff, but I think you're really just harmless."

He cut you off with a growl as he lightly bit at your neck, holding your arms down again and tightening his grip on your wrists until you yelped and giggled happily.  "Oh, honey, you have no idea yet just how monstrous I can really be…"

[mentally-unavailable]

How To Court A Cryptid: 101 Chapter 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER or NEXT CHAPTER

Content warning: Cursing, threats of violence, minor violence, transphobia and homophobia, leftist/anarchist views (Not really a warning, but for those who don’t agree with those views), smoking

“Hello chat! How are we doing today!?” Tommy yelled into his mic, talking to chat as he started his stream. 

I sat on the side watching him talk to the chat, I couldn’t see chat but I could tell they were questioning why the lights were off, since Tommy kept smiling and trying not to giggle. 

“Why are the lights off?” Tommy asked squinting at chat, I then rolled into the camera’s view.

“Well, typically cryptids like dark places where they can’t be seen” I said rolling in and leaning so I could see chat.

Chat then went 1 million miles per second they were all spamming cryptid and being amazed that I was real. I started to laugh really hard because some of the chats messages.

“Well, chat this is the Dream SMP discord cryptid; also known as- Can I say your name?” Tommy asked looking over at me. I smiled,

“Uh, I prefer Bas or bastard here on the innerwebs, but if you want sure you can say my name. Just don’t give like my home address or whatever” I said looking at chat smiling. 

“what? Why would I- never mind. Okay chat this is Bastard.” Tommy said smiling looking over chats messages “Hey, can we turn on the lights?”

“UGGGHHHH, I guess” I said getting up and walking over to the light switch. I turned it on and saw Tommy walk over to see and stand next to me. I gave him a confused facial expression.

“Chat wants to see the height difference, you goblin” He said smiling looking down at me. I quickly stood my tippy toes, easy with the boots

“Okay, fit check, as you can see I have the superiors fashion sense chat. Tommy here has none, write that down” I said walking back to my chair.

“I do not! I have a great fashion sense!” Tommy said looking at me offended I started to cackle like a hyena

“Yeah, to be fair though, you are a teenager who live that streamer life style so I understand” I said after catching my breathe from laughing, Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah” He said crossing his arms, I looked over at chat

‘Gamer Bf and Alt s/o goals’

‘Are you a boy or a girl? I really can’t tell’

“Ew, I will punt you straight into the sun you heathens” I said with a face

“HEY! Don’t threaten my chat!” Tommy yelled at me

“They were shipping us. Ew, he is like my little brother. This isn’t sweet home Alabama people” I replied

“Okay fair enough, also chat they use they/them pronouns, respect that please” Tommy said looking at the monitor

“Thank you, so what are we gonna do?” I asked leaning back on my chair and grabbing the container of brownies.

“We could go on the SMP and mess with people” Tommy said grabbing a brownie and popping it into his mouth.

“Cool, give me the grand tour” I said popping a brownie into my mouth

Tommy then booted up Minecraft and got onto the SMP server, he made sure to show on stream

“Okay, lets show the cryptid how to be cool” Tommy said moving his character around

I looked over at the camera unamused, I looked at the stream and saw my face. I started to get uncomfortable and looked down.

“I am being perceived and I don’t think I like it...” I said picking at my nails

“You okay?” Tommy said looking over at me, I smiled and shook my head yes

“It’s okay, I’m just use to being blurry not in 4k resolution” I said chuckling

“Oh hey Dream is on” Tommy said looking on the list,

“He’s the sever owner right?” I asked looking on scream

“yes” Tommy said

“So, he’s like a goverment?” I asked smirking

“what are you thinkin?” Tommy asked looking over at me

I smiled before shrugging and setting down the container

“Well, as an anarchist, I don’t really like the government. So, maybe I could attack him while screaming ‘ACAB’ or ‘Down with the government bitches’ idk. Wait- will that get you in trouble. My bad” I said cutting myself off worried I said something that will get Tommy in trouble. He started laughing, more wheezing

“Omg, yes! Let’s do it!!” He yelled moving towards Dream and others of the server. I smiled,

‘Cryptid says ACAB?’

‘Anarchist? Technoblade might like this!’

Some of the chat said amazed I said something like that,

“Yes, chat ACAB all the way, demolish the government! Consume the rich people!!” I yelled excitedly

“Okay, how do you wanna do this?” Tommy asked

“Okay, I’ll attack while you get us into VC and you scream then I yell ‘ACAB bitches’“ I said scooting him over so I can take control of his character

“Okay good” Tommy said getting into the VC “Here we go!”

“By the way, I’m bad at Minecraft” I yelled before we joined and attacked Dream.

“AHHHHH” Tommy yelled

“ACAB BITCHES” I yelled after him attacking Dream

“Huh? Tommy! What the Fuck?” Dream yelled before he pulled out his own sword and started swinging

“Oh fuck!!” I yelled trying to get away

“Move!!” Tommy yelled before he died

“Uhhh, my bad” I said smiling at him, Tommy rolled his eyes

“Tommy what the hell man? Why did you attack me?” Dream asked

We both looked at each other before I smirked and leaned into the mic

“Tommy is no longer with us” I said deepening my voice

“What!? Tommy did you get hacked? I’ll open your stream” Sapnap said with Dream and George agreeing.

Tommy muted himself, turned off the music, then got up and moved the camera zooming in my face and then ran and turned off the lights. My face was only illuminated my the screen light, Tommy then hid, I was confused before he looked at me and winked. I turned and stared into the camera with a dead look.

“AHHHHHH!? WHAT THE FUCK!???” Was all we heard from the others, as we both started laughing

“The cryptid is real!?” George yelled 

“Y’all have Discord Admin energy bitches” I said before we quit the VC and started wheezing. I started coughing and grabbed out my drink from my bag. I opened my Monster and chugged. Tommy kept wheezing so hard,

“Omg, did you guys hear them!? Omg that was so funny!” Tommy yelled, I chuckled

‘Dream: What the fuck!?’

‘Sapnap: GOT EM!’

“Dream is actually our Discord admin” Tommy said between laughing

“Ah, cool. He doesn’t have it actually, but now knowing. HMMMM” I said looking at the camera smirking

“Yeah, and Gogy is his discord kitten” Tommy said putting everything back to normal

“An I oop- Wait, that’s georgenotfound right?” I asked

Tommy leaned back into his chair giggling “yup, he’s the bestest man ever” he said smiling

“I thought that was Philza Minecraft?” I asked having a confused face

“Wait! Phil is on! Do you wanna meet the biggest man? Philza Minecraft” Tommy asked

“I thought you were the biggest man?” I asked smirking

“I am, well- we share the title anyways” Tommy said as he joined the VC

“Tommy, we just had your stream open!” we were met with,

Tommy started wheezing again, I smiled ‘Brothers’ I thought

“You’re going to get banned” A voice said; ‘Technoblade’ I thought remembering his voice from some of Tommy’s streams.

“Chaotic little shit” Philza said laughing

“The cryptid is real! Oh my god I have to tell Quackity, he thought you were using photoshop or whatever!” Wilbur yelled laughing

“God has let me live another day, so, I’m gonna make it everyone's problem” I said snickering, while I felt my face heat up. ‘God I feel like a zoo animal’ I thought smiling awkwardly

I don’t know any of Tommy’s friends really, and they don’t know much about me. Only that I’m Tommy’s scary friend and what they’ve seen from pictures and probably dumb stories he told them.

Tommy took control of the game, making sure the stream was entertained. He answered with giggles.

“Did you really bite a kid in school for picking on Tommy?” 

‘FUCK’ I thought, making a surprised face

“Well you see there! Uhh-” I tried to say

“They also threatened a dude with a Selenite knife once!” Tommy chimed in

“Yeah, that’s true, but both fuckers deserved it okay!” I said as I felt my face get hotter from embarrassment

“God your both equally feral” Phil said laughing, Wilbur giggled and Techno stayed mostly silent besides a small laugh. Tommy explained he was ‘awkward around new people’. ‘Social anxiety. MOOD’ I thought smiling.

“I personally prefer ‘unhinged’ but pop off I guess” I said shrugging

“Feral cryptid! Feral Cryptid” Wilbur chanted, soon the chat also spammed it

“So, this is THE Philza Minecraft” Tommy said as if he didn’t just say I bit a person and threatened another with a knife. “An honor right?”

“Hello, pleasure to meet you” I said smiling awkwardly

Phil laughed, Tommy looked offended “This is Philza Minecraft! Creator of Minecraft! Show some respect!” Tommy yelled

“Didn’t that other dude make the game?” I asked confused

“Yeah, but he was a wrongen. So, we joke that Philza made it instead” Wilbur explained

“Oh, yeah he was a fucking bigot right?” I asked, everyone went quiet “Should I have not said that? My ba-” 

“no, no” Wilbur said giggling “No, that was perfect. I wouldn’t have said it but you hit the nail on the head”

“Ah okay” I said with a small smile

“They are very radical” Tommy said smiling, I laughed awkwardly

“We heard” Techno said when amusement

I ended up taking off my jacket, revealing all my tattoos on my arms

‘WOAH!’

‘Are those real?’

“Yes, chat they are real, some are done professionally, others are stick and pokes. Don’t do it unless you know what your doing” I said raising my arms to show off my art

“Yeah, they piercing their own nose though!” Tommy yelled

“Oh, my god, that is dangerous.” Phil said worried

“Yeah, most I did myself or my sister did. She wanted to be a tattoo artist at one point so I just let her do whatever on me. Don’t worry they were done safely, mostly” I said laughing

“what does the skull say?” Techno piped up, I smiled, showing the camera my tattoo on my right fore arm. It was a leopard skull with grapes running out of the left eye socket dripping liquid. Under was a chalice, the piece was surrounded by a diamond. 

“It’s a piece dedicated to the god Dionysus. One of the first I ever got done professionally. And yes chat it hurt like a bitch” I said showing the tattoo

“Hello!” two voices popped into the call

“TUBBO!” Tommy yelled, I snapped my head towards the screen

“Tubbo? Isn’t that the guy you were calling when you broke your wrist?” I asked, Tommy wheezed

“Oh is that (y/n)?” Tubbo asked, I smiled

“Hey bubbs, how are you?” I asked

“Wait you both know each other?” Ranboo piped in

“Yes, you see some time ago, we were at the skate park. I was skate boarding and Tommy was on the phone with Tubbo. Tommy then wanted to do a trick. So, I take the phone and Tommy then fails miserly and breaks his fucking wrist! We were on call the whole time to and at the hospital” I said laughing

“Ah, sounds about right” Ranboo said

“What does that mean!?” Tommy yelled, Tubbo was laughing

“I’m good (y/n), thank you for reminding me of that” Tubbo said between laughs

“wait your name is (y/n)?” Wilbur pipes in, Tommy looked scared for a second

“Yeah, that is my name. I go by Bas or Bastard on social media though” I said shrugging. 

“Bastard?” Phil asked confused

“Can I promote myself?” I asked looking over at Tommy, he nodded smiling

“Yeah, I go by Cryptid_Bastard. I post art or whatever” I said relaxed

“That fits you” Tubbo said, I smiled

“Thanks bubbs” I said smiling

After a few hours we ended the stream and said goodbye to everyone. Me and Tommy leaned back in our chairs and sighed.

“Well, that was fun. I like your friends” I said smiling,

“Yeah, you can come on another stream another time if you want” Tommy said smiling, I nodded my head

“Yeah, well I need a break. I’m gonna go on a walk if you don’t mind. You wanna come?” I asked as I stood up and stretched

“Nah, I’m gonna chat with Tubbo for a bit” He said, I nodded before grabbing my bag and leaving the room. I walked out and said hi to his parents and informed them I was going on a walk. I walked out the door and towards the street. After getting to the sidewalk I grabbed out a cigarette and my lighter. I lit up, and took a deep draw. I ended walking towards the park while smoking,

*VRR VRR* I heard as my phone started vibrating in my bag. I dug around a pulled it out, it was notifications from twitter. I unlocked my phone and opened twitter, I had a whole wave of people following me and commenting on my art. I smiled before getting ready to tweet. I opened the camera and angled it to show me, I had my cigarette in my other hand making sure not to show it. I smiled taking the picture before typing and posting.

Cryptid_Bastard

*insert picture of you*

Welcome everyone, welcome to my corner of the internet! (:

I turned off my phone before walking towards the park.

‘Chaos isn’t so bad’

A/N: I hope y’all liked this. I’ve introduced SOME of the romantic interests! LET’S GO!! I’m gonna go hibernate for like a million years now. Stay hydrated! :P

TAGLIST: 

@teenage0jealousy

@smolbox-png

@yourimaginaryfriiendd

@venusliily-blog

@mega-trash-cringe​

@jaciahbabes

@ponyboytoddandthebatgreasers

@ahmya-4

If you would like to be added please comment here:  Taglist for HTCAC:101 (How to Court A Cryptid: 101)

[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 

And yet, you can. 

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.” 

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.” 

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!

[rudystopit]

OKAY!!! HUSBAND IIDA FUCKING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU AKA BREEDING YOU CAUSE HE WANTS IT ALL WITH YOU!!!!

i don’t know what demon came from hell and possessed me when writing this but it’s darker than my other stuff. this is more angst than smut i guess. i think i’m going to write another one for iida with a breeding kink that more lighter.

warnings: sexual abuse, nsfw, choking, slight breeding kink, eating out,

wc: 4k

every Saturday, you and your husband iida go to the farmers market to shop for food or other things. you two walk side by side with hands locked together. you pull him around and he smiles at your huge grin. you swing your arms as you walk to the little market.

it was warmer that day so you wore a cute sundress while he wore a polo and shorts. he watched the skirt of the dress flow around your beautiful body. he just watches you look around for the best veggies and ripe fruit.

you’ll catch him staring and you’ll ask him a question which he won’t respond to. you lightly punch him and he’ll snap out of his daze. he smiles and apologizes. you tell him to go over to the bake goods and pick out a dessert for the two of you while you drag some summer squash and peppers.

he pouts as he goes a looks at the cookies and cupcakes. he waits for the old women to finish talking with another customer. he points to the two he would like, pays and turns back to you.

the guy sitting on the back of the truck was flirting with you. you smiled and laughed at his jokes. he shyly smiles at you. he cracks a joke and you touch his shoulder.

iida storms up to you and snakes his hand around your waist. he pulls you closer. he glares at the man. you turn to iida.

“hey honey, did you know i used to go to school with him?” you laugh and turn back to the guy. you pay for the veggies as iida quickly pulls you away from the man.

“ooh let’s get the apple cider doughnuts! they smell amazing!” you close your eyes and inhale. the sweet smell of warm dough, apple and cinnamon swirled around you. “please tenya!!” you grab his arm and hug it. he looks down at you.

“yes of course,” he smiles down at you. you two stand in line and talk about what else you need to get and which buildings you still needed to look in. “i think we should have curry for dinner, hun,” he tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

“ok! i think we have everything for that! do you want to get some extra potatoes? wait! what did you get?!” you look down at the bag.

“chocolate chip,” you glare at him. “what? you like chocolate chip?”

“i can make those at home! you’re supposed to get something new here.... but they do look pretty good,” you mouth watered.

the line moves and you two ordered your doughnuts and apple cider. iida’s phone rings and he steps away. the doughnut guy started making small talk with you.

“beautiful day isn’t?” he asks.

“yes! it’s so nice to finally get out!” you smile. “have a lot of people come here?”

“oh yeah. they’re pretty popular around this time! i swear one guy ordered like 15 this morning,” he laughs and turns to pour the ciders. he turned and handed them to you. “boyfriend?”

“husband,” you smile and grab the drinks.

“you look so young!” he compliments you. you blush and turn around to see iida scowling at the man. you hand him the cider with a sweet smile.

“thank you,” he takes the cup and brings it to his lips.

“be careful! it’s a new pot!” the guy yells.

too late, iida had burn his mouth. he took the cup down away from his face and stood there stoic. the guy handed the bag of doughnuts to you. you link your arm with iida’s and started to the venters.

“you want to cry. don’t you?” you laughed.

“that’s so hot. it’s like lava. why is it so hot??” he looks at you. you laugh at your husband. you two walk to a stand full of movies. you take a few bites of your doughnut. you melt into the warm apple taste. iida picks up a movie and shows you.

The Mask, “hmm never seen it,” you say and look down at the movies. he shuffles around and picks up another. fatal attraction. “sounds scary,” you say. he moves behind you at the other table. you hear him pick up another. fear. “is this you telling me you want to watch a horror movie when we get home?” you ask. he chuckles and tosses the movie back on the table.

you walk away from the booth and to a table full of rings. he hugs your shoulders and puts i his head on yours. you pick up a cute little ring and hold it up to his face. “cute” his chin digs into your head. you put the ring back and head to the car. iida laces his fingers with yours as you two walk.

he stops and looks at some fruit which causes you to get jerked back. you look at him and then at the fruit. “we should get some,” he says. he pulls you closer and you hug him. he looks over some apples and strawberries. something catches your eye. you release your husband and walk over to a booth full of boxes. you look through them, you bend down to get a closer look at the small trinkets.

iida turn to look for you. he see you bend over and some guys looking at the view. he drops the fruit and rushes to you. he grabs your wrist and drags you to the car. he glares at the guys. he rushed to the car, his grip not loosening.

“tenya!” you try to pry his hand off your wrist. “what is your problem!?” you yell. he walks you to the door and opens it. he lets go of your wrist and lets you get it. he slams the door and makes his way to his side.

he quietly gets in and puts his seatbelt on. his hand grip onto the wheel. he just stares forward.

“what was that about?” you yell.

“keep your voice down!” he turns to you. his expression only coming off as angry and demanding.

you turn to the window and put you seatbelt on. you just watch the scenery. once he had driven out of the busy parking lot, his hand comes to rest on your thigh. his thumb rubs circles into the fabric of the dress. you tilt your leg away from him. he moved his hand back to the wheel and drove silently the whole way home.

he pulls into the driveway with a scowl. he parks the car. your hand reaches for the handle. he quickly locks it. you glare at him. his hand reaches for your hand and you pull away.

“y/n!” he yells.

“no tenya! what was that whole... whole.. tantrum you pulled at the market!” you yell waving your arms around.

“you kept flirting with guys!” he yells. you fell silent. he looks at you. “you were flirting with the vegetable guy, the apple cider guy and you purposely bend over so those guy to watch,” he says.

“you’ve got to be kidding me, tenya,” you whisper. you fingers rub your temples. “you’ve got be actually joking right now,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “tenya,” he looks at you. “what is this?” you hold out your left hand.

“your wedding ring,” he answers.

“what does it mean, tenya?” you look up at him.

“that you’re married,” he answers.

“now, who am i married too, tenya?” he looks at your question confused.

“me?” he shyly answers.

“so why would i flirt with guys i barely know?” you pause. “hell why would i flirt at all?” you yell.

“i don’t like your tone!” he yells.

“unlock the door,” you whisper.

“no,” he huffs.

“open the fucking door, tenya iida. or i swear to god i’ll break it open myself,” you slowly say.

“not if you talk to me like that,” he crosses his arms. you look at him dead in the eye. you press the unlock button on your side of the car and he quickly grabs your arm. you push him off and make your way inside. he slams his door and chases after you. “y/n!” he yells.

you unlock the main door and slip off your shoes. you walk to the kitchen and unload the bags. you hear the door open then slam then heavy footsteps to the kitchen. you ignore him as you put away the vegetables and other goods.

“y/n,” he whispers. you stand up and look at him.

“yes, tenya,” you sneer. he pleading face drops to pure anger. he walks closer to you. you back up till your back is flush against the fridge. he hand comes up and creases your face. you inhale and try not to move away. he quickly turns away and slams his fist into the counter. you exhale the breath you were holding.

with a blink of an eye, his hand was around your throat. his eyes look like they were deciding either they wanted to kill you or fuck you till you couldn’t think. your eyes, glossed with tears, held a pleading look of desperation. you loved tenya but sometimes he would get so jealous, he would stop thinking and end up hurting you in frustration. you thought you could let it slide but it’s been 5 years and it’s only getting worse.

“i... i want a divorce,” you struggle to say while tears flow over the sides of your cheeks. his eyes turned to pure unfiltered rage. his hand fell to yours and with that he dragged you to the bedroom. you dug your heels into the floor. he turns and grabs your upper arm. you try to run the other way. his hand slips and you fall to the floor. you try to scurry away but you feel his large hand grab you hip. you’re lifted off the ground and swung over his shoulder. you kicked and screamed for him to up you down. you pleaded that you were sorry and that you don’t want a divorce.

he throws you onto the bed. you curled up hoping he wasn’t going to hurt you. he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. tears streamed down your face as your husband looks down at you with eyes full of anger and disgust. he feels you tremble underneath his touch. he scoffs and pushes you back onto the bed. you start sobbing while holding your head.

he wasn’t always like this. you guys head fallen in love in high school and dated all through college. he proposed a few months after graduating. you guys were young and in love. but after the honeymoon and he went to work, he started coming home stressed and angry. he would take it out on you. it started off as snapping at you or getting frustrated at small things. it didn’t escalated till his father died. after the funeral he was so disoriented and frankly drunk, that he slapped you around. you figured it was grief and stress. you let it slide, hoping it was a one time incident.

one day after he got home, he went to shower with you. you weren’t feeling well and weren’t in the mood for sex. you kept pushing him off you. he grabbed you by the hair and forces you to suck him off. you cried silently while his dick destroyed your throat. you didn’t stop crying till he had left for work the next morning.

you put up this facade of a loving couple in public. people think you two are perfect for each other and that you guys are what true love is suppose to look like. you did love him. that’s why you wanted to stay with him.

at first you blamed yourself. you rationalize that you started it. you gave him attitude and this is how he’s reacting to put you back in your place. you were the one starting the fights and this how any rational person would react. ‘he’s fixing me’ you would repeat over and over in your head as he would pound you into the bed.

he grabs your arms and pins you to the bed. he switches his grip as one hand moves to slide up your dress.

“tenya,” you whisper. his hand moves your panties to the slide.

“tenya,” you say. his fingers push their way through you. he licks his lips as his fingers trace over everything inch of you.

“tenya,” you yell as tears made rivers out of your cheeks. his grip on your wrist became unbearable. his fingers twist inside of you.

he doesn’t answer. his heavy breath hitting your face. you close your eyes as he starts thrusting his fingers. it hurt, the speed, the force, everything hurt. you let the tear speak volumes for you. he didn’t care. he sees you as his little wife. the love of his life. his first love.

his thumb moves to rub harsh circles into your clit. the pleasure in the pain. the worst part about all of this. you can’t control how you body reacts to him. his fingers move at lightening speed in and out of you. you feel your core tighten as he grazes over your sensitive spot. the knot forming against your will. you know in a few seconds it will come undone and he’ll be satisfied.

you open you mouth as the wave of ecstasy cashes into you. just like the drug, after the high, only the original feels remain. he continued thrusting his fingers into you. your legs trembled. a whole in your chest expands and your eyes shed the last tears.

he removes his finger from you. you roll onto your side as he moves around the room. you figured he was going to change to go run. he usually ran after to clear his head, then he would come back and apologize.

you close your eyes and try to sleep. you hear him get undressed and you hear the dresser open then close. you try to steady your breathing as he walks by you. you bite your lip to not make a noise.

you feel the bed dip. ‘he probably putting on his shoes’ you think. ‘he’ll leave and i can be alone.’ then his large hands grip onto your hips. you scream and try to turn onto your back to kick him off. but he holds on.

“stop fighting y/n!” he yells. you stop. you’re paralyzed in fear. he lift your hips to his. you feel him drag his tip through your folds. you close your eyes as he pushes his way through. you bite your lip to not scream. his size stretches you out. you grip onto the sheets. he bottoms out and instantly start thrusting. you clench your jaw to not scream in pain. even though he’s going slow, the pressure is unbearable. you’re still sensitive from before and he just is huge.

you knuckles are turning white as he slides out then slams back in. his hand caressing your ass. his hand travels down to your lower back. he holds it there as he slowly exits and snaps back in. his fingertips dig into your hip. you let your body go limp. you give him the control. he snaps back in. he hear him grunt softly each time.

you release the sheets as the pain fades away. the time before he snaps back in shortens. each time he ruts back in you flinch. he feels you clench around him. he smiles and quickens his thrusts. his hand starts roaming again. he massages the flesh of your ass. he lick his lips as he stares down at your body.

he loved you. he doesn’t know how to show it. correctly. he has been in love with you since freshmen year. when he saw you walk into the classroom with your friends. he can still remember the day he asked you out. may 7th. the flowers were blooming and his heart was beating so fast, he thought it might explode. he couldn’t believe it when you said yes. he felt like he was dreaming.

he feels like every time he’s with you. dreaming, peaceful, home. which is what clouds his judgement. he can’t control his burst of anger from work. he has to keep it cool there or else he’s fired. but at home, he feels safe but he’s so frustrated that anything sets him off. he knows it. but he isn’t willing to change.

tenya continues to drill into you. your body feels like it’s on fire. his hands burning you with every touch. you lay there, numb. your fingers play with the sheets, trying to ignore everything. you look up at the photo on your nightstand.

you in your beautiful wedding dress. your hair falling in stunning ringlets. the biggest smile you’ve ever had. and tenya. he stands next you with his arm around your waist. he’s lean into you. his eyes shut from laughing and cake on the side of his face. you had taken the first slice and smashed it into his glowing face. his smile was one you’d always remember.

a tear slides down your cheek. who was the man above you?

“god y/n, you make me feel so good!” he moans out. another tear falls to the bed. the man above you was supposed to be the one.

‘he’s fixing me’ you think. you think about your first date. he took you to a cute park and he had made sandwiches. you two had laughed the whole time and you felt sad when it was over.

“fuck y/n, i can’t wait to fill you with kids,” he moans out again. a tear add to the pool. the man above you wasn’t the sweet high school, who was too shy to even look at you.

‘he’s fixing me’ you repeat. you think about buying your first place together. a cute little apartment, close to the college. he put on some old love songs and grab your hands. you two dance in the empty apartment for hours. you had wished that every night there was like that one.

“damn i’m almost there!” he grunts. thur the tears you try to think about the wedding. how handsome he look. how nervous he was. his face stayed pink the whole week after it.

his thrusts become harder. you squeeze your eyes shut. they burned with salty tears. his nails digging into your sore skin.

‘he’s fixing me’ you repeat again. you’re reminded yourself about your first fight. he came home late and he had forgotten to pick up something from the store. you were tired and moody so you snapped and told him that he was never reliable. he yelled back that it wasn’t his fault. it wasn’t but you hated him yelling at you. you two had a screaming match till he got into the car and disappeared for the night.

you stayed up waiting from him to come home. it wasn’t till 10am the next day when he came back home stumbling and smelling of liquor. you hugged him tightly and started crying. he told you he was fine and that he was sorry. he wiped away your tears and kisses your forehead. he joke about being starving. you cooked him breakfast and went to bed together.

“you’re all mine,” he moans as he comes in you. the man above spoke the truth but it stabs you like a knife. how can he love you while he hurts you?

you lay there motionless. your eyes are flat and red with tears. ‘am i fixed?’ you ask yourself. ‘thank you for fixing me’ you close your eyes and fall onto your side. tears continuing to create oceans. you feel him lay next to you with his arm draped around you. he squeezes you closer to his chest. his breath on your back made you shiver.

you look at the picture again. you curse at it mentally and closed your eyes.

you dreamed that you were floating in the ocean. you’re eyes are closed and the salty water pricked at your wounds. there’s no land in sight. you’re breathing is slowly and almost relaxing. you swing your arms around on the surface of the water. you open your eyes to see birds flying in circles above you. you hold your breath and let yourself sink into the blue abyss.

you felt like nothing. absolute weightlessness. all your emotions, pains, bagage floats away in the soft current. you let yourself fall deeper and deeper into the salty ocean.

a force grabs you by the stomach and pulls you down. you open your mouth the scream but your lungs fill with the unforgiving water. the once beautiful light blue sky started to feel like a distance memory as you pulled deeper into the darkness.

you jerk wake. you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. you hear the shower running. you check the clock on tenya’s side of the bed. 9:30. you try to hug yourself tighter. you started to notice all the bruises. they littered your body. your wrist were a greenish yellow. your upper arm was purple, you bet your hips had small purple dots and you look at the mirror across the room. a faint handprint wraps around your neck.

your bit your cheek to try not to cry as you get up. you swing your legs off the bed and stare at the floor. you bit harder on your cheek as you force yourself to get up. you feet hit the cold floor. you push off the bed and stand. your legs feel wobbly. you room feels like it’s spinning. you grip onto the end table, knocking off the picture. the picture that will haunt you forever.

you slowly stumble to the kitchen. “water,” you could barely say. you made it to the bright kitchen. you squint and walk to the sink. you grab a glass and fill it.

your hands shake as you bring it to you lips. the cold water flowed down your arching throat. you closed your eyes and finished the glass. you quickly filled another. you water to the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol. you untwist the cap with shaky fingers. you shake up a couple and pop them into your mouth. then the cold water. you finished it in one go.

you slam the cup down as you look up at the ceiling. you hear a door shut and soft footstep coming to you. you felt his hand snake around your hips. he wraps his arms around you. he pulls you close to his chest. his head snuggles into your neck. you squeeze your eyes closed as you bit your lip. you held back you tears as he kisses your shoulder and neck.

“good morning, beautiful,” he says in a low tone. he moves away from you and opens the fridge. “eggs?” he asks searching the fridge.

“hmm? yeah sure?” you say walking away from him. you walk into the bathroom. you shut the door quietly. you lean against the door. you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you move to the sink and stare at the clean white sink. you turn on the water and cup your hands. you watch the cold liquid spill out over the edge. you bring your face to your hands and rub in the cold water. you turn the sink off.

you breath and look up at yourself. you stare at a tired, beating, puffy eye version of yourself. “fuck you,” you whisper. you go to turn on the shower and the handle was warm due do tenya’s. you twist the handles and sat on the toilet. you lean forward on your knees as you bring your hands to your face. flashback of the night before flash in your mind. you felt his hands on you again. you see the photo and his eyes. those eyes filled with a fury so red hot, it burns deep into your memory. you push your hair back as you take a deep breath. you stare at the wall for a few seconds before standing again.

you slip off the disgusting sundress. you pull off your panties. you instantly threw them away. you wanted nothing to remind you of that painful night. you step into the shower. the warm ran down your sore body. you wrap your arms around yourself as you stand there, staring at the tiles.

you here the door creek open. tenya’s head peers in. “you want any eggs?” he asks.

“um. no i’m good,” you answer, not really listen to what he says. “thanks,” you to finish. you close your eyes and listen to the door close shut and his footsteps fade away in to kitchen.

you sink to the floor. the water running down your back. you close your eyes as you listen to the water.

[dodo-begone]

It's Tough to be Mortal

Pairing: God!Reader x Hermitcraft

Request: DODO MY BELOVED DO YOU REMEMBER THE CONVO WE HAD ABOUT GOD READER. WOULD YOU BE COOL WRITING THAT BESTIE?

Word count: 4k

Grian was standing in front of his mansion, debating on what needed revamping. Sure it was already enormous but there was something missing about it. It’s been bothering him for ages. An answer that always seemed to appear was something others would call outlandish. Something more than unnecessary.

His mansion needed to be taller.

Did his mansion already tower over the rainforest that lay before of it? Yes. Did it also go pretty far below ground level? Also yes. A grand mansion like this must have something to separate it from the surrounding area. The moat-like feature couldn’t be small either. No, that’d be an injustice to the mansion. What he needed was something to-scale for it. Though it’d be nice if his nether portals would actually fit in the little arches he dug out…

“Hey Grian!” a voice suddenly appeared. It’s unexpected entrance made it seem like a bellow and it was absolutely terrifying to hear.

Grian shrieked, jumping around to see who disturbed him from his thoughts. There, behind him, was little ole you. If he weren’t so spooked, he would’ve found your expression rather hilarious.

Your face was a gorgeous combination of joy with a hint of confusion. The expression was similar to one Grian wore often. He mostly wore it when he was found pranking the other hermits. Although you did many pranks alongside him, it didn’t seem like you were trying to pull on now. “Seem” being the key word. Appearances can be deceiving after all.

“Why hello there,” Grian was grateful for your sudden appearance. Another set of eyes to help decide what was missing. It was like the gods just knew of his plight. “Why’d you come visit?”

“Oh I just wanted to chit-chat,” You reply, your eyes wandering to Grian’s most recent muse. “But you seem somewhat busy at the moment. I’ll come by another time.”

“Wait,” Grian still desperately needed an outsider’s opinion. “We can talk right now. I’m just trying to figure out what my mansion is missing.”

“Are you sure,” you prod. Talking to Grian after you interrupted him felt wrong. He was obviously busy and you disturbed him more than you should’ve. The creative process could be rather elusive once you have it, easily escaping the moment you stop thinking of it.

“Positive.”

“Well, if you insist,” you give in rather easily. How you craved interaction. And it was so readily available here as well. “I mostly came over to thank you.”

“Thank me for what,” Grian was beyond confused. First off you could be thankful for anything. Second off you didn’t need to thank him for anything. Third off he can’t think of anything he’d done for you that you hadn’t thank him for already. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, you know. Everything was a pleasure to do.”

“But i still feel like making you aware,” you reply so nonchalantly to him. In a way it seemed like you didn’t care what he had to say in reply. He knew you did care, you’ve shown you cared in the past. But now it seems to be the opposite. It must’ve been like one of those cases where you don’t listen to a friend when you help them because they think they’re a problem. That’s what it feels like anyways.

“You and the hermits made me realize so many things about life I had either long forgotten or never realized,” your words were spoken in such a soft manner, like you were dreamily reliving whatever you were referring to.

“Again, it wasn’t a problem at all,” Grian reiterated himself. He didn’t want to seem rude but at the same time it honestly wasn’t something that bothered or irked him. Although he may not have realized he was helping you with that, it was nice to know you felt great about your interactions together.

You looked like you were far from finished talking though. So Grian decided to listen to your words. Maybe look at what needed fixing with his mansion. No, that’d be rather rude.

“With our interactions together,” you were restarting whatever you were saying. Oh boy. “the small joys of life have been revealed to me. For example, I never knew those loud boxes of yours had any significance besides just making a loud noise. Well they are made to make noise, but I was unaware of the significance besides that. Now, through you, I have found the sounds rather joyful. I never knew you could trap music in a box until now.”

Grian had been beyond confused with your description. It felt odd and awkward. He only figured out what you meant when you said “music in a box”. Either you meant a music box or a jukebox. Everyone knew what a music box was; everyone had interacted with one in their lifetime whether they remembered it or not. Jukeboxes were also a well known item. Your experience with them felt odd to hear. Very alien. Who doesn’t know what a juke box is?

“Oh don’t even get me started on those little slimy critters,” you excitement seemed to grow exponentially. If he weren’t there to see it, he would have a hard time picturing what that description would entail. “The slimy ones are slugs, right? I think they’re slugs. Not those square ones, no i know those are Slimes. But the cylindrical ones, i think that’s what you call that shape, that most people find rather unpleasant. They live in gardens. Yes, those. I never got to experience them up close until recently. Also the little slugs with shells.” You pause, a look of deep concentration covers your face. A few times you try to restart your description with the name but come up empty.

The pause is long enough to give away that you most likely didn’t remember the name of what you described at all. It was rather cute because you were so deep in thought about it. You looked around too, like anything could give you a clue as to your mystery animal.

“Do you mean snail,” Grian prompted. He was giving you a stick to latch onto. Watching you flail for an answer any longer would be cruel.

“Yes,” you reply gleefully,” those things. Snails and slugs are so sweet. I can’t believe people can dislike them so much. They regard them as pests but they’re just little wonders. It’s so hard to see why people dislike them. Is it because they’re slimy, like blood?”

That description felt like a record scratching or stopping; it felt like the mood got changed completely. “Excuse me,” Grian laughed nervously. He simply must’ve misheard. “Could you repeat that?”

“I absolutely can- wait, which part do you need,” your confusion was rather evident. Did you really have no clue where the problem lay?

“The snail and slug part. Where you were wondering why people didn’t like them. What was the reasoning you gave?”

“Oh that! I said, ‘is it because they’re slimy, like blood’” You reply so helpfully. A child-like glee seemed to emanate from you.

“I don’t think that’s exactly why people dislike them,” Grian began. He didn’t know how to bring it up to you that your description wasn’t wrong but also wasn’t right. “Some people dislike them because they eat, destroy or kill their plants. Or they have a plethora of them where they’re unwanted.”

“Oh,” somehow his answer saddened you. “So they treat them like unwanted kittens?”

Again, you weren’t wrong nor were you exactly right. It just didn’t exactly sit right with him. Because yes, they could be treated like unwanted kittens.

“Sure,” It was simpler to just go along with it. After all, the general idea wasn’t wrong. Anything unwanted was a pest in someone’s eyes and therefore treated like one.

“Oh the poor things,” you start to tear up. “Why do people treat them like that?” You’re tearing up over snails and slugs? This is going to be a long explanation as to why they’re treated so horribly. He really didn’t want to have to break your heart further over the slugs and snails, but your pained yet curious eyes just begged for more information. It was going to be a long day.

______________________________________________________________

The clicking of redstone echoed around the cavern. After a long chain of clicks, lights flickered and moved. It was like the sun, although the appearance was shoddy and limited considering what it was made of.

It’s creation was for one purpose; to replicate the sun but underground. A quirky clock. Very large and eye catching. Much more eye catching than a regular clock anyways. The ceiling was partially ripped out, revealing the dazzling rays of sunlight that peaked over the horizon.

Zedaph, the creator of this magnificent creation, stood below it. Both looking at it in awe and scrupulously. He was only at the beginning stages but this played a key part in showing the progress. Was he actually doing everything right? It already moved once but it did that last time. Oh it’s getting close to changing now, or should be. “Zedaph,” you flung yourself at him, hanging onto him as you two went down. Although not the most pleasant entrance, it was rather endearing. “Oh sorry about that! Looks like I got a wee bit over excited.”

“It’s alright,” you two got off the ground, you much more gracefully than him. “It didn’t hurt too much.”

“Oh my gosh I hurt you,” you frantically search Zedaph over, looking for any sign of damage you might have caused. “Oh i am so so sorry I didn’t mean for any of that to happen I just-” “I said it’s alright,” Zedaph reiterates, gently pushing you away. “I’m perfectly fine. See?” He even does a little twirl for you.

You don’t seem convinced, not in the slightest. But your second attempt to search him gets declined and you’re forced to believe him. At least somewhat.

“So what brings you around here,” Zedaph inquires. “I know my indoor sun-clock system is pretty awesome, but it’s far from complete. And there isn’t really anything else in the cave of contraptions either.”

“I’m well aware of that,” your reply is odd, but easily overlooked. All of the other hermits have their quirks, after all. This is no different. “But I came over for other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” “Well not reasons,” you correct yourself. “What I actually mean is reason. I don’t know why I said reasons. Why did I say- anyways I just wanted to talk with you.”

“Some good ole talking with me,” Zedaph had to clear any doubt, even though there really shouldn’t have been any. “Well I’m quite honored to have you over to talk. What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh I simply wanted to discuss the differences between Hermitcraft and other servers. I knew Hermitcraft was different but I couldn’t put a finger on what it was. That was until recently. That “eureka” moment hit me and I just had to share with someone.” Your self satisfaction was undeniable and honestly somewhat charming in the way you were so pleased and proud by your actions.

“How so,” Zedaph inquires. He wants to listen to you, he really does. But redstone is just calling his name and how can he deny it. So he starts to fiddle with some redstone. Find a way to do the decline of the sun for his clock. He could easily listen to what you were saying and figure this out, right? It couldn’t be that hard.

“So I noticed how everything is so nice and peaceful here,” you remark, slowly following him. “It’s like one of those fairytales you share to your children. So absolutely perfect. Then there are others where chaos reigns like there’s no god but itself. You know what I’m saying.”

“Uh-huh,” Zedaph mindlessly agrees with whatever you just said. “Fairytales are like that.”

“Excellent,” you quietly cheer in joy at his supposed “understanding”. “So anyways this place is so much less malevolently chaotic and more playfully chaotic. And I recently realized something. Something that you guys don’t do that many other servers do. Are you aware of what that is?”

“Yea sure,” Zedaph started to fiddle around with the placement of droppers and redstone. “Go right on ahead.”

“Okay! So what you guys don’t do is something many other servers do- oh I just mentioned that. But anyways! There’s so little violence, it’s truly wonderful, don’t get me wrong. I must inquire though, do you expect there to be any violence? Anytime soon for that matter?”

Zedaph gives a simple “no” before his mind and hands are back onto the redstone before him.

“Well that’s great yet terrible,” you sigh in disappointment. “A true tragedy. Guess I need to go to another server again.”

Those words caught Zedaph’s attention rather quickly. He’d only half listened before but you now had his entire attention.

His mouth spoke faster than he could think. “Why would you go somewhere else? Especially for violence?”

He turns to you and is greeted with your confusion. Perplexion shows itself well on your face, accentuated by a small head tilt. It was a silent way of asking “are you really asking this” or a simple curiosity. Either or really. Yet this didn’t clear his confusion at all. If anything, it made everything just that more muddled. Why are you acting like he should know the answer?

“No I genuinely don’t understand. Can you please explain?” Zedaph hoped you could actually clear his confusion rather than make it worse. You had to. After all, people usually start to clear up what they said after you ask at least once or twice.

“Well you guys have no violence,” You reply so matter of factly. This still doesn’t help. Zedaph’s mild fear and confusion must’ve been evident as you continued with your explanation. “It’s rather simple really. I feed off of violence, in a crude description of it. And I could spark some conflict here rather easily, get my fill without having to leave. But I like you guys too much to just make you suffer so. That’s why I asked. Because if I did it, the conflict would be so much worse than what you guys would create.”

Zedaph was baffled and stumped. Okay that made sense yet didn’t all at the same time. Like yeah some people thrive off of drama, so violence could be similar-ish. He was just making excuses at this point. He really didn’t understand any of that.

“And you guys rarely make sacrifices as well,” you muse, not taking into account that you lost Zedaph literally ages ago.

“Excuse me did you say “sacrifices” because I must’ve heard wrong. Nobody really makes sacrifices in this day and age.” Zedaph was getting more unnerved with each new thing you mention. It’s like the more you talk, the worse everything gets.

“Yeah I said sacrifices. Gosh you’re so silly,” you giggle at his “ignorance”. “People still make sacrifices! You just aren’t in the right crowd when it happens, that’s all.”

“Okay and uuh,” his confusion blurs everything ever more. How could he nicely and politely state this? Is there a nice way to state or ask what in God’s name was going on? “What do they sacrifice, exactly?”

“You know, the usual things,” another answered in a manner that just screamed “you should know this man”. Like a teenager with their fads. “Like items and that jazz. Things that are deemed “important” or whatever. You know, the usual sacrifice stuff.”

“No, I have no clue why,” his irritation was becoming very apparent. “That’s why I was asking.”

“Oh well I’m no good at explaining this type of stuff,” you mutter, going deep into your thoughts. “You know what? I should get going. I don’t want to bother you much more.”

Zedaph sees you walk out a door and tries to stop you, yet you’re gone before he knows it. You just magically poof away the moment you’re out of sight. Wow you are just so darn fast. The awkward energy became too much? Or was it the explanation that chased you away? Did he pressure you too much?

Questions ran rampant in his mind after your interaction. He wanted answers for them, but he’d have to wait until he saw you again to ask.

______________________________________________________________

Many other odd events go on across the server. Each having one thing in common: you. You were in every interaction where something odd was mentioned or happened. After stories were traded about your interaction with each of them, it finally became too much to ignore. Yes, all of them had little quirks or be quirky in general, but this was excessive. Maybe it was just the style you did things, but they needed confirmation.

So they called together a meeting. One where everyone could hear what you had been up to and these anomalous events.

Around their little circle they went, each recounting your actions and the events that happened afterwards. With each person you became more peculiar, more of a figure to be gawked at. There were so many things and all so incredible.

Doc recounted how you were helping him with his redstone and in turn trying to learn the redstone Doc was doing. It was supposed to be a day-long-ish lesson for you two. Everything had gone well, quite normal, in fact.

You were rather studious, watching his actions slowly and taking all he did into memory. A few questions were brought up, which was also a normal thing. Redstone was a rather confusing subject. But then an odd question came out of practically nowhere. Nothing prompted it, as far as Doc was aware. Well, one thing could’ve but even then it was farfetched.

He had mentioned how he was a block or two short on what he needed. A block that’d fit the color scheme of the farm he had been working on. And you simply asked if he needed a block because you had one on you. He replied with a simple yes and that should’ve been the end of the interaction, besides the transition of said item.

Dropped into his unsuspecting hands was a block of bedrock. It was black and grey. Something that went with what he was building with. So he placed it down without much of a second thought. But when he tried to move it later on, he realized what had happened. Though how it all exactly happened was a mystery. How could you have gotten some bedrock?

When everybody at the meeting had shared what was going on, it was clear. Clear but not clear. It was like you had some powers. Admin powers, to be exact. But you weren’t an admin. Far from it. You had only recently joined the server. So that begged the question; how did you obtain those items and why were you reacting the way you were?

Your actions seemed to hold little to no regard for those you found “unimportant” but hyperfocused on those you did. Aloof was another way to describe your demeanor. An aloof person that held a regal air around them. Like nothing could touch them.

Their chatter was growing in volume the longer they were together. Arguing ensued over what could be going on. Was some mythical force at work? Were you some type of hybrid? A hybrid with powers they were unaware of? Were you a hacker? The possibilities were nearly endless but one thing was certain; you were not a normal hermit.

A loud cough broke through the cacophony of voices, effectively silencing them. Confusion soon took hold of the group. Wait, everyone was here though. And nobody in the circle did it. Right? It didn’t sound like any of them, at least. Another cough was released and almost every head in that circle whipped toward the direction the cough originated from. Their answer stood behind them, at the entrance.

You stood there, a confused look adorned your face along with a little head tilt. Why were you here? Did anybody invite you? They didn��t remember inviting you. At least the majority of them didn’t.

Scar quickly got out of his chair, walking over for a hug and some greetings. He thanked you for coming and gave you the unfortunate news that the meeting was coming to a close. Man he really told you the wrong time, huh? That was his bad.

You simper, shifting your view over to the remaining hermits. Grin widening, you give them a squinted smile and a little hand wave.

It was obvious now, didn’t need to be said. But it seemed Scar had invited you along as well. They really should have specified who needed to come to the meeting instead of “everyone” because- well this could work in their favor.

“So what’d I miss,” you ask, making your way over the hermits with Scar by your side. “Scar didn’t exactly tell me what this was all about. But he didn’t know either. Did you all miss some information when you were inviting people?”

They look between each other, trying to find someone with the courage to break the question to you. One of them had to do it, but which one of them would?

Finally a brave soul spoke up. It was their admin, Xisuma. Grateful couldn’t even describe how they felt when he started to talk to you.

“We’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” Xisuma speaks in a measured and steady tone. One that gave away no weakness he might’ve been experiencing. Like anxiety or how awkward it was to even ask someone something about themselves. Something that would, in usual cases, be seen as an insult or something akin to that. A negative thing.

“Oh,” you play his game, humoring him and going along with the unspoken script. “What do you want to know?”

“It’s actually quite simple really,” Xisuma starts, but soon pauses again. A few false starts later and he’s back on his feet, metaphorically anyways. “This is going to sound very odd and quite possibly rude. But are you, um, are you a god, by chance?”

Silence came to suffocate the room after his question came out into the open. The air was tense with anxiety.

“Oh yea that,” you giggle. “Yea I am. So what?”

“I’m sorry, but did you say “so what”?” Xisuma wanted clarification because there was no way you just answered with that. “So what”? That was definitely an unexpected answer. Honestly they weren’t expecting too much or too much. It was hard to tell.

“Yes I did,” you speak your words slowly and methodically, checking the reactions of everyone in the room. Like a switch your words flow from a molasses like pace to water. “Look I’d absolutely love to get into this and talk with you all about this in depth, but it really isn’t a good idea. I haven’t had the best experiences with explaining this type of stuff with… well with beings like you.”

Everyone was giving each other looks, silently asking each other “is this really going on” or “Excuse me, what now”. Silence settles over the group again. You leave them some time to ponder over the news, but not enough for it to cause any trouble. At least that’s what you think.

You clap your hands and it echoes around the room, once again catching everyone’s attention. “Look like I said, I’d love to explain this all to you. This isn’t the best time though. So why don’t we just chill out? Talk to each other like the friends we are! You guys have cookies, right? Scar said you guys would have cookies.”