#the first scene is barely half way finished and it’s over 1.7k. and I already started the second one and it’s at like 600+

[gaylicense]

Sending you slonkspiration today!

Thank u my beloved

[pochipop]

＃ MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — YOU'RE A MASTERPIECE: PAINTING ON HIS SKIN (JUMIN X READER).

#. synopsis! — jumin let's you use his skin as a canvas for your artwork .

#. characters! —jumin .

#. warnings! — none .

#. word count! — 1.7k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Jumin looks at you over the rim of his wine glass, the purple-red liquid inside sloshing a bit as he adjusts his wrist and sets his gaze on your own. His dark irises almost feel intimidating in the moment, but the quirk of his brows gives way to a curious undertone.

"Too weird?" You question, backing off a bit just in case.

If Jumin doesn't fancy becoming a human canvas for your artwork, that's completely and totally okay, and it's his choice to make, of course. Still, you'd really like it if he could say yes. . .

"A bit strange," he acknowledges, "but I see the appeal."

He adjusts his wrist again, bringing the glass to his lips. Jumin takes a slow sip of wine as you process his reply.

"You. . . You do?" Comes your slightly confused response.

Jumin has never particularly struck you as someone who would enjoy more outlandish art forms. Of course, with a photographer as a best friend, he's long been accustomed to some displays of artistic prowess; but you imagine painting on someone's skin and taking pictures of a sunset are two completely different things that evoke entirely different responses.

"Yes," he nods, "you've mentioned before on a few occasions that seeing open space as an artist often fills you with inspiration. I imagine that, although I'm a living person, my skin may not seem so different to canvas or paper. . . Just an open space to take advantage of."

Albeit very literal in his analysis, Jumin roughly hits the nail on the head. His bare skin does inspire you, very much so. It fills you with ideas and inspiration, and to actually have the opportunity to paint on him would be a dream come true. You're almost bristling with excitement before he confirms or denies his participation in the matter.

"Do you have any ideas for the piece?" Jumin asks.

"Ah, well, —roughly," you nod. "The design will depend mostly on what body part you lend me for a while. But, I'd like to do something floral, if that's alright with you."

"I'm a businessman, not a painter," Jumin replies, lips curving up at the sides a bit in amusement. "Designs should be left to the artist."

"Alright," you smile, "something floral then."

He appreciates your confidence the second time around.

"Lovely," Jumin comments, placing his glass of wine down on the counter.

He reaches up to loosen his tie, pulls it halfway off, then pauses to look over at you once more. His handsome features stand out in this position, —a few loose strands of hair falling over his forehead, sophisticated aura cracking just a bit to welcome the warmth of your presence, nimble fingers grasping at the material of his necktie. This scene might as well be art itself. . .

"Will an arm suffice?" Jumin asks.

"Perfectly," you nod.

He strips his upper half, and says nothing about the way your eyes rake over him like you've never seen him this way before. Your fingers, lips, and palms have smoothed over the exact skin you're subtly gawking at a million times; but each time feels like the first.

Jumin folds his clothes neatly and sets them aside before following you to your makeshift art studio, —the one he set up for you in a room he'd previously had no use for. Now, it's utilized often, and he thinks it was well worth the time, effort, and money. He loves coming in here, though he hasn't had the chance recently with work piling up so high. Canvases lean against one of the walls, some blank, some with half finished paintings littering the fronts. If it were anyone else, you'd be awkwardly scrambling to explain that "it's really not like that, —painting is a process!" but Jumin, he already knows as much. You don't feel the need to justify your talents to him of all people.

"I enjoy coming in here," he smiles softly.

It makes him feel closer to you, like he's staring into pieces of your soul. Ones that he just isn't privy to in any other way.

"I'm thankful to have it," you reply, "it's given me a space completely to be creative, and I've never really had that before. I'd always been used to painting in my bedroom growing up, and when I lived alone, there were never any extra rooms to turn into a studio like this."

And perhaps the best part of all is that you never even asked for it. Jumin simply did it of his own volition because he saw your passion and wanted nothing more than to be supportive of it. That's why he hangs your art pieces throughout the other rooms as well.

"It was V's idea, technically," Jumin says. "I simply paid for it to be done."

"Well, whatever the case, I'm grateful," you assure him.

He takes a seat on the sofa in the corner of the room, —the one you crash on sometimes when deadlines get tight and you need a quick power nap before getting back into the swing of things. You're sure to place a towel under his arm, not wanting to stain it.

You gather up the needed materials and set off to work. Jumin tells you that he likes the way the brushes feel against his skin, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t help but hope that that leaves room for this to happen again sometime in the future. Maybe you could even have Jihyun come and photograph the final pieces, —maybe present them at one of your galleries in the future. But, you sober yourself enough to realize that you’re getting far too ahead of yourself. After all, this could turn out like hell.

That doesn’t seem particularly likely, though. Paint takes to Jumin’s skin surprisingly well, and when you joke to him that it seems to you that it was always meant to come to this on account of that fact, he gives you a low chuckle in reply. One that makes your fragile little heart skip a beat: just for him.

“It’d be quite the honor for that to be the true meaning of my existence,” he says.

It’s only a half-joke that he responds with. Even after all this time, Jumin has a particular way of crawling under your skin, sending shivers to your core and lighting you up inside.

He watches you work with curious eyes, much unlike the gaze you often see him wear when he’s sitting at a desk littered with paperwork and various contracts. This look of his is much softer, —sweeter, even. He’s not evaluating anything. . . He’s simply admiring.

“Honestly,” you say, “I was surprised you agreed to this so easily. I was kind of prepared to pull out the puppy dog eyes and lay some affection on pretty thick to sweeten the deal.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no need for the puppy dog eyes,” Jumin answers, an amused smile playing on his lips, “but I certainly wouldn’t mind the affection.”

“Noted,” you comment, giggling just a bit, “—but I’ll save that for later. With my luck, I’d lean in to kiss you and these white dittanies would end up looking like globs of nothingness.”

“Later then, but I’ll hold you to that.”

You know he will.

“Still, I think you captured the dittany flowers perfectly. I saw them in person once at a wedding, —the bride’s bouquet had both those and baby’s breath. At the time, I thought it was a strange decision,” he admits, “but looking at them like this. . . I suppose I understand quite well now.”

“They’re commonly associated with passion and love,” you add. “That’s actually why I chose them for this. . . I thought they suited you.”

“I’m not quite sure what standard you’ve used to measure that, but you’re the artist here, and they look lovely. So, in the end, I suppose you were right.”

“Still,” Jumin speaks up again quickly, “—aren’t these plants aphrodisiacs as well?”

“A-Ah,” you stutter, having been caught off guard by the suddenness (and bluntness) of his statement, “could be, yeah. . .”

He has to admit that you look incredibly cute when you’re flustered, the way you stumble over your words and turn your gaze away, pretending to focus intensely on the task at hand. If you were ever to work at his office, he’s certain he’d never get a single thing done ever again.

“Anyway, this should do it,” you say, adding a few final strokes of green to the stems.

Placing the paintbrush into one of the small containers filled with water, you pull away from Jumin’s arm and allow him the freedom of moving it around. You tried to work relatively quickly so as to not make him sit around in a single position for too long, but art is, above all else, a process. And it’s one that often takes a great deal of both time and effort.

Jumin admires your artwork like he’s staring at something priceless.

The best part of it is that, to him, he really is. He feels beyond honored to have this stunning painting of beautifully full, white-hued flowers flowing along the expanse of his forearm. Though you can see innumerous flaws in it now that you’ve stepped back, it’s almost impossible to dislike it when Jumin looks at it like that. . . Like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, simply because you created it.

“I wish. . . That I could keep it here forever,” Jumin whispers, tone achingly sincere.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “but it’s better to leave the permanent stuff to the tattoo artists. Which I certainly am not.”

Though he yearns to keep your piece there on his flesh forever, the logical side of him knows that you’re correct. Even so, he won’t be washing it off for quite a while. At least not before he’s taken fifty and then some pictures, all of which will inevitably end up blurry, before coming to you and asking for your help with it. Maybe he wants to be self-sufficient, even when it comes to areas he’s unfamiliar with (like proper photography skills and otherwise technologically related issues.) Or, maybe he’s just stalling for time, wanting to prolong the inevitable washing of his forearm for as long as he can.

The world may never know.

[biggest-stupidhead]

I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing a nsfw story about Levi + f reader getting walked in on by one of the cadets? Then Levi needing to the the Corps about their relationship then ending with some fluff/Levi holding his ground when others are upset about about a relationship in the workplace? I would really appreciate it 🥰

AN: this is such a cute request! I feel like I could've done a better job with this one so maybe I'll come back to it haha

Summery: Jean, Sasha, and Connie walk in on you and Levi. Chaos ensues.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: oral sex fem receiving, cussing.

kinda steamy in the beginning so a put a cut just in case you aren't into that ;)

______

Moments like this were fleeting and far between. You took what you could get, in empty storage rooms, open fields, in his office. Levi's breath was hot against your lips as he pressed you up against his desk, his knee slotted between your legs. You pulled away briefly to jump onto his desk, sweeping the papers off to the side. He shot you an irritated look but you only smirked wryly back at him. His hands were planned on your knees, prying them apart with fervor and then tugging you closer to the edge so he could press his growing bulge to your own needy cunt.

You groaned and rolled your hips into his as he pressed his hungry mouth to yours. You opened your mouth wider, allowing him to slip his tongue in and properly taste you.

"Levi, we've got to hurry." You felt delirious as he kissed down your throat, his lips burning your skin. His fingers began to tug at the straps of your gear and you began to unbuckle his own belts and buttons. After you had both been stripped of your tops he continued to kiss his way down your chest, gently urging you to lay back on the desk. You did so, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could watch as he tugged your pants down to rest at your ankles. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, bringing his mouth to your dripping pussy.

You spread your legs as wide as you could but he grabbed your thighs and brought them to press tightly against his ears, his stormy grey eyes blown out. You whimpered as he liked a fleeting stripe up the length of your pussy, your hips rolling to meet his tongue. He had just begun to tease your clit when the sound of the doorknob rattling made your heart leap into your throat.

"Levi" your fingers that had been in his hair, pushing him closer to you now tugged his hair, urging him to get his face out from between your legs.

"Mf" His voice was muffled as he still had his lips pressed against your cunt.

"Stop!" You hissed, but it was too late, the door swung open, Jean, Sasha, and Connie stood with wide eyes as they took in the scene before them.

"Captain!" Connie cried, Jean's hands flew to either side and covered his friends’ eyes, while his remained wide as he watched Levi scramble to cover you. You pressed yourself against his back, looking over his shoulder.

"Get the fuck out." Levi's voice shook a bit and Jean nodded, steering his friends away before reaching back for the doorknob and slamming the door shut.

"I told you to stop." You hissed, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His hand was pressed over his eyes, hiding the flush that had developed on his cheeks.

"I know." He groaned, turning to face you, his usual stoic exterior slowly falling back into place.

“Well, what do we do now?” Panic was bubbling up in your throat, thoughts of the cadets going to Erwin or even worse, Hange.

“I’m thinking.” Levi stepped away from you, the mood ruined. You stumbled off of the desk and tugged your pants back on, hurrying to buckle your gear back on.

“We can’t not address it.” You thought aloud as Levi buttoned his shirt.

“I thought I locked the door.” Levi seemed to still be in shock, and you felt for him.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, they saw and now we have to confront them.” You said tugging your jacket on over your shoulders.

“We should call them back in here. Tell them to keep quiet.” You were pacing now, the bare soles of your feet padding against the pristine wood floors.

“They probably already spilled to half of the regiment by now.” Levi scoffed, stooping down to pick up the papers you had tossed onto the ground.

“We’ve got to try.” You felt helpless, so irresponsible, and guilty. You were here for humanity, you weren’t supposed to get caught up in your lust. You were a soldier damn it.

“Fine, you go round them up then.” Levi flicked his wrist towards the door and you scowled at the back of his head as you marched off to find the kids.

____

You found them in the mess hall, all of the 104th cadets gathered at one of the large tables. You figured that at this point it would be easier to just bring Levi here. But you paused, noticing that they had not yet felt your presence.

“I don’t believe a word out of your mouths.” Reiner sat with a skeptical look on his face.

“Yeah, no way they would do that on Levi’s desk. He’s too much of a clean freak.” It was Armin speaking now, his fingers twisted together as he processed the information.

“You’ve got to believe us! They were about to fuck right there in the office!” It was Jean who was speaking now, Connie and Sasha both began yelling over him in a hurry to agree. You decided to cap it now before it got too rowdy and anyone else walked into the conversation.

“Cadets,” You rounded the corner you had been hiding behind and they all stood, chairs scraping against the cobblestone floors. Their firsts were clenched over their hearts as you stood with your chin held high.

“Stay here we have something that needs to be discussed.” Their faces were flushed with embarrassment at being caught gossiping. Then slowly sat back down as you retreated, hurrying to get Levi. You came back a few short minutes later, Levi in tow the cadets were silent now, faces turned down to look at the table.

“...” The silence was thick as Levi remained by the door, clearly, he wanted you to take charge here.

“The rumors are true.” You said simply, their heads whipped up, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Captain Levi and I are in a relationship. We’re sorry that you three saw us earlier.” You apologized and Connie’s ears were so red as he avoided eye contact with you.

“I thought relationships were strictly forbidden,” Jean mumbled, and you inhaled sharply.

“They can be...tricky. But I don’t feel that we have to explain ourselves to you. Our relationship has no impact on you.” You glanced back at Levi who was glaring daggers at the kids.

“But you’re our squad leaders.” Armin looked concerned.

“Yes, and we don’t intend to let it affect our work here.” Levi finally spoke up, taking a few more steps into the room to stand next to you.

“But captain-” Eren didn’t get to finish his thought, Levi held up a hand for silence and he deflated in his seat.

“You’re 16 years old you know better than to stick your noses in other people’s business,” Levi grumbled, and the kids all shared some uneasy looks.

“Or at least I hope.” He turned on his heel to leave and you shot the kids a tight-lipped grin.

“See you guys in the morning.” You waved at them and they all looked at you, clearly, they had more questions. But frankly, you didn’t feel like explaining anything to them.

___

You never got to finish what you started with Levi earlier that evening. Instead, the two of you ended up in his office going through the stacks of paperwork and letters that needed signing. You had been working in silence, sipping on lukewarm cups of tea when there was a soft knock at the door. It was timid and it made you flinch, you looked to Levi since it was his office after all.

“Enter.” He said plainly, not even glancing up from his work. Hange came in with Connie in tow, Connie’s shirt balled up in Hange’s fist.

“I got the best news today.” Hange thrust Connie in front of them, their brown eyes alight with mischief.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Levi refused to give them the satisfaction of acting surprised or nervous.

“A little birdie told me that you two were fornicating here in this very room.” They sat down heavily in the sofa and propped their feet up on the small coffee table.

“Really.” Levi huffed, setting his pen aside and looking up, glaring daggers at Connie.

“I-I swear they just heard me and Sasha talking about it! I didn’t mean to tell them!” Connie fell to his knees, hands clasped together in a pleading motion.

“Hange, this is so unprofessional.” You groaned, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh yeah? And getting down and dirty in the office is professional?” They cackled as you rolled your eyes and stood from your seat. Now it was your turn to manhandle Connie. You grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet, pushing him towards the door. He turned and grabbed your forearm, and you paused.

“You gotta believe me (Y/n) I’m really sorry and I’m happy for you two I really am!” He was rambling and you gave him a soft smile before shoving him out of the door.

“Yeah, Connie I believe you, go to bed.” You ruffled his nonexistent hair before sending him on his way. He smiled up at you before turning and running off down the hall. Hange was still comfortable on the couch, and Levi was still scribbling away at his desk.

“Hange you have two seconds before I lay your ass on that floor.” Levi threatened and Hange groaned before standing up slowly and walking backwards towards the door.

“Bye Hange.” You waved to them and they saluted you, fingers pressed to their forehead as they slipped out of the room and shut the door behind them.

“We’ll talk later.” They promised and you nodded in agreement. Once they were gone you rounded the desk and stooped to press a kiss to Levi’s temple. He grunted but leaned into your touch as you rubbed his shoulder.

“It’s been a long day, you should go to bed soon.” You knew that he wouldn’t but you would never stop trying to get him to sleep.

“Mhm.” He mumbled as your fingers wandered into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“I mean it.” You said, this time pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. He loosened up, his head turning to finally face you.

“I’ll try...stay a while longer.” His soft plead made your heart flutter and you hummed in response, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Sure, but I’m going to bed.” You laughed and Levi sighed, shoving his work aside and standing to follow you to his adjoining bedroom.

[syllvane]

muscle memory pt. 3- sylvie x reader

a/n: i said i was going to post tomorrow but i couldn’t help myself. anyways, spoilers for episode 2 and 3 of loki, minor spoilers for the beginning of episode 3. final word count is 1.7k words!

read the previous part  read the next part   read the series  

“How is Loki doing?” You asked Mobius, walking with him to the mess hall.

“He’s doing great. Making real progress, I would say.”

“Didn’t you have to have a meeting with Renslayer this morning because of his actions?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. His face scrunched up for a second.

“It’s like every time he is making progress, he takes two steps back.”

“That sounds more believable. You still think he’s worth all the trouble though?”

Mobius sighed slightly. “I really do believe in him. It’s not just an issue of whether I believe in him though, it’s whether Ravonna and the Timekeepers do.”

“Oh, you’re on first name basis now, with Renslayer?” You turned and grinned at Mobius, who immediately flushed after realizing his mistake.

“Not a word of this to anyone.” He said strictly, although there was a smile on his face as well.

“Yeah, yeah.” You said, standing in line with Mobius as he ordered his lunch before sitting down at a two-seat table. “Ravonna and Mobius-”

“C-7.” Mobius said strictly, although you could tell he was partly amused by your antics.

You continued in the same quiet, sing-songy voice as before.

“-on a jet ski. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Mobius finished taking a sip of his drink and then applauded quietly, so as to not draw attention.

“Has anyone ever told you that you truly have all the originality of a grade-schooler?”

Before you could answer, you were interrupted by a tall man with long dark hair speed walking over to where Mobius and you were sitting.

Although he seemed to be in a hurry, you could tell that he was sizing up everybody in the room, including yourself.

“I found- oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there. Would you mind moving so that me and my partner could discuss something?” He asked politely, even smiling.

You locked eyes with him, smiling back at him.

“I’m good, thanks. You can just pull up a chair.”

His smile wavered and he maintained eye contact for a couple of moments longer before breaking it, going to a different table and pulling over a chair.

(You ignored the pointed look Mobius shot at you, like he was asking you to be the bigger person here. Unfortunately for him, you had no such intentions.)

“Right. I know how the Variant is hiding.”

Mobius leaned back.

“Talk about burying the lead. How?”

Loki smiled slightly, this smile much different from his last- he was proud of himself.

“He’s hiding in apocalypses.” 

There was a moment of silence. You and Mobius exchanged a glance.

“Which one? There’s like a million all across history.” Mobius pointed out and Loki took a second to compose himself before starting his explanation.

You sat back as he explained his reasoning, watching with amusement as he put more salt and pepper into Mobius’ salad, handing him your own drink when he realized that Mobius’ drink was empty.

He gave you a nod of recognition and Mobius sent you another, even more exasperated glance as Loki poured your drink into the salad (although, in your opinion, seeing Loki grin like that made it worth it).

                                                             —— “How was Pompeii?” You asked, not even having to look up from the apocalypse case files to figure out that it was Loki who was approaching you.

He stopped for a minute, almost taken aback by your observation, before continuing and taking a seat in front of you.

“I was right, naturally.”

You scoffed slightly.

“Naturally.”

You looked up at him to find that his piercing eyes were already looking at you, almost curiously.

“You’re already sorting through the apocalypse files.”

“Naturally occurring disasters with no survivors, cross-referenced with the candy that Mobius picked up. You were confident that you were right so I figured I should start looking.”

Loki raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly.

“You’re smarter than you look. Could’ve saved me and Mobius some time.” 

“He forgot to cross-reference?”

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before he grabbed some of the files that you hadn’t started looking over yet.

You looked at him appreciatively, though he wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

The two of you sat there, looking at the case files in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Mobius walked into your office as well.

“What’s this?” Mobius asked, taking a cursory glance at the file on top.

“Kablooie.” You said simply and Mobius sighed slightly, frustrated that he hadn’t thought of it.

He grabbed a couple of files as well, standing up as he started reading.

“I think I have something,” Loki said a couple of minutes later, splaying the case out on your desk so that everyone could see. “Class ten apocalypse. Alabama, 2050.”

You looked it over and even just with a cursory glance, you could tell that this is where the Variant was hiding- you looked over at Mobius and saw pride on his face.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

“Now to pitch it to Renslayer.” You said and Mobius nodded, already halfway out of your office. He closed the door behind him and you looked at Loki. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited in a while. In fact, the last time I saw him this excited, I think we saw a jet ski on a mission.”

Loki smiled to himself, though the expression disappeared when he looked back at you.

“And what about you?”

“Hm?” You tilted your head slightly, caught off-guard by the question.

“What excites you?” 

You held his gaze for a couple of moments, feeling uncomfortable with how he looked at you, as if he knew something about you that you didn’t know about yourself. 

You finally looked away, standing up.

“We should go meet Mobius. We’ll be heading out as soon as he gets the approval.”

“You say this like it’s a sure thing.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Renslayer say no to him. Come on.”

                                                          ——

The rain sounded a hundred times louder when you were listening to it hit the roof of the Roxxcart, so loud that you could barely hear the sound of your own voice above the noise.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, positioning your reset baton defensively. The man standing by the plants seemed to hesitate slightly, although he was still much too calm for this kind of weather.

“Hurricane sale. Azaleas are half-off.”

“Could that be you?” You asked Loki, your eyes never leaving the man. Although his eyes continued to look between you and Loki, his gaze lingered on you longer.

“I… mean… I would’ve worn a suit, but it could be.”

You took a couple steps towards the man and he backed up, looking at you pleadingly.

“I don’t want to do this.” He said quietly and you tilted your head slightly, confused.

You took another step towards him.

“What-”

He grabbed your arm and a warm feeling came over your body.

A woman’s voice in your head lulled you to sleep, promising to bring you home and then everything went dark.

…

“Sylv, why are you acting so weird?” You asked, taking another sip of wine.

The blonde woman across from you smiled, although you could tell that she was forcing it for your sake.

“Another one of my suitors came and visited me today.” She said. You made a face and she laughed slightly.

“Complete fools, every one of them.”

“Fools for being deeply in love with me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, almost as if she was allowing herself to play the part for a couple of brief moments.

“No, I’m above self-flagellation. They’re fools for thinking that they could ever win your heart.”

She laughed.

“And why is that?”

You leaned back in your chair.

“I have it on very good account that someone already has it.” You said and Sylvie‘s smile faded and her gaze didn’t quite meet yours, almost as if her mind was preoccupied elsewhere.

She looked back at you, her look apologetic.

The scene around you grew distorted, nothing quite clear anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words repeated everywhere around you like you were in an echo chamber rather than…

Rather than…

Where were you?

The blonde woman that had been there a moment ago disappeared and with her, everything else.

…

When you came to, Mobius was kneeling beside you, waiting for you to wake up.

“C-7… are you okay?” He asked slowly, looking at you with more concern than you think anyone else ever has.

You propped yourself up and you looked around wildly for Loki or for the blonde woman- Sylvie- who had been in your head.

“Where are they?” You asked and you hated how desperate your voice sounded.

“They escaped. Take it easy, the Variant did a number on-”

“Mobius, I have to find her.” You said, trying to stand up only to be overwhelmed with nausea and dizziness.

Mobius supported you, keeping you from falling back onto the ground.

“I know. And we will, but we have more pressing issues right now. Come on.”

You didn’t protest, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convince Mobius even if you promised to get him a jet ski afterwards.

What you had to do now, you would do alone.

He helped you through the portal back to the TVA and the rest of your team followed, all of them being immediately assigned to different Nexus events that were happening simultaneously.

You, being injured, were given the pass to stay back at the TVA. 

You wondered if the Timekeepers knew what you were about to do, if they could’ve predicted it- after all, they were the ones who had made you, right?

You headed to the sector of the TVA where they issued TemPads, looking at the data of where all the TemPads were jumping to and from when you stumbled upon something odd- there was a TemPad that only had one jump registered in its entire history.

TVA to Lamentis-1, 2077.

Huh.

The Variant- Sylvie- whatever her name was, must’ve found out a way to stop the TemPad from feeding data into the system, but it must’ve reset when she jumped to the TVA.

You grabbed one of the TemPad’s that were out of commission for charging, unplugging it. 

It was low on battery, but it would have to do.

You opened a portal for yourself using the exact same coordinates and time that they had put in and without any hesitation, you walked through.

[mercy-burning]

Pretty Please (Reprise)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: About a year has passed since Reader and Spencer got together, and they spend the day celebrating. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Fluff, mostly Smut 18+ (dom!Spencer, fingering, slight exhibitionism, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex- creampie, slight degradation) Warnings: Sex, language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you! Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all so much for reading this series! It turned into something I wasn’t really expecting, and I’m very glad you all have enjoyed it, because it’s really pushed me to keep writing. Thank you!!! I hope you enjoy this short little spicy epilogue 🥰

***

She knew she was going to be in for it later, but she didn't care. Messing with him was too much fun. Not to mention when he finally got her alone and had his way with her, she would be more than satisfied.

"Y/N, stop it," Spencer said lowly in her ear.

Her hand remained on its course as she smirked, and he sighed, irritated. When she circled the tip of his dick through his pants, keeping her eyes focused on the scene in front of her, he grabbed it, lacing his fingers through hers and setting their entwined hands on her knee.

She pouted, but smiled right after, then turned her attention to the screen.

Spencer and Y/N were coming up on one whole year of being together, and though she just wanted to spend the day inside, he insisted on taking her out. They went out for breakfast, then to the park, and now they were at the movie theater. She tried to enjoy every second, and though deep down she really did—she always enjoyed being with him regardless of what they were doing—she was desperate for him. He'd been away on a case for almost a week and a half, and now that he was home she was feeling particularly... needy.

She hardly paid attention to the movie, her thoughts clouded by images and memories of their first excursion together. She replayed it over and over in her head, the wanting look in his eyes as she sank to her knees and pleaded for him to let her make up for the fact that she'd invaded his privacy. "Pretty please," she'd begged, and since then she always remembered how beautiful he looked in that moment. She never forgot it, and never would in a million years.

If there weren't any other people in the theater, she would have been bolder, maybe even so bold as to re-create that moment right there. Though, as hot as sex in public had proved to be on occasion, she'd come to learn that Spencer was not a fan of germs, and she knew ultimately that even if there weren't any people in the theater, he wouldn't have let her get on the floor to do what she wanted anyway.

They were sitting in the back row, though, and the only other people in the room was a family of four down in the middle. So Y/N wanted to take another risk.

He eventually untangled his fingers from hers once he trusted her to not make any moves, and she took that as her opening. She waited about fifteen minutes, and then reached under her skirt, inconspicuously hooking her fingers through the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs as her eyes stayed glued to the screen. She felt Spencer's hand grip her knee in warning, but she didn't care. As she reached for her cup and took a drink from her soda, her other hand dropped her panties in his lap.

That was all she was going to do, and she should have known he'd make this hard on her, but alas, when his hand slid up from her knee and rested at her inner thigh, his pinkie finger reaching over and resting just above her clit, she almost choked on her soda.

"You asked for it," he leaned over and whispered lowly in her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before pulling back. His hand stayed where it was for just a few minutes before he shifted, wasting no time plunging his middle and ring fingers inside her. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, while also clutching the armrests of the seat for dear life as his fingers pumped in and out slowly.

As the movie played in front of them, Spencer brought her to the edge three times, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean as she fought the urge to beg him to let her cum, right before going back in each time. It was torture, but she did, in fact, sign up for it.

When it was obvious that the movie was ending, he picked up his pace and curled his fingers in just the right way, and she almost yelped. He leaned into her one last time, and said, "You're going to cum on my fingers, and then you're going to clean them, got it? Be fast."

That was all she needed to finish, and she came as quietly as she could, her legs clenching around his hand and her eyes squeezing shut as she tried not to call out. When he felt her legs loosen around him, he slid his fingers up through her pussy and circled her clit a few times, making her jolt forward, before pulling away and quietly bringing his fingers to her mouth. She happily took them, sucking them as quickly and quietly as she could. She let out a soft groan as he pulled them out, but then stifled a louder one as he ran his fingers through her again, gathering more of her arousal. She cleaned them off once more before the credits started to roll, and then he stood up, bringing her with him.

As the family ahead of them walked up the aisles and out of the door, Spencer shoved her panties in his pocket and ushered themselves out behind them.

He didn't say a word the whole walk to the car. And even when they started driving, he said nothing.

"Hey," Y/N started nervously as he pulled out of the parking lot. "I... I hope I didn't make you do something you were uncomfortable with. I was onl— wait, where are we going? I thought you said after the movie we'd go home?"

Spencer gave a knowing smile as he drove down an empty alley. "That was before you decided to act like a needy little whore in public. I was going to wait until we got home and be gentle with you, but now I have some other ideas."

She tried to hide a grin, already growing excited and wondering what he was going to do to her.

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before scooting the seat all the way back and moving to undo his belt. "You're going to ride me until I finish, and maybe if you're lucky you'll get to cum. Get over here." His voice was desperate, and Y/N could tell that his primary goal was to get off, it didn't matter if she did as well or not. But they'd been in that position before, and she knew that even if she didn't orgasm now, when they got home he would give her whatever she wanted. He always did.

Spencer removed his dick from his pants as she climbed over him, her skirt fanning out over them. Without warning he gripped her hips and brought her down on top of him, and she gasped as his hips lifted to meet hers. He did this a few more times before stilling and willing her to move on her own accord. She set a steady pace bouncing on him as her hands gripped his shoulders. His hands, in turn, slipped under her skirt and gripped her ass, his fingernails digging in as harshly as they could. It spurred her to move faster, and he leaned his head back with a groan. "Shit, pretty girl, just like that..."

He lifted his hips then, just a little so he could hit inside her deeper as she came down, and she cried out. She could feel him getting closer, and she knew just what would do the trick.  "Fuck, baby, cum inside me, please! Give it to me," she breathed, high-pitched and close to the edge herself.

Sure enough, his cock pulsated inside her and in no time he was filling her up, groaning out her name as it happened. She kept going, though, chasing her own release that was just on the surface, almost about to break through the water. But Spencer pulled her off of him and she whined, feeling his cum start to leak out a little.

"Please, Spencer, I was so close... Please..."

As she hovered over him, her legs barely holding herself up, he gripped her chin in his right hand and looked her in the eye. "I don't know... You were being a pretty bad girl at the theater."

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry..."

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before biting it, pausing for a moment and then cocking his head and using his free hand to run up her inner thigh. "Beg for it."

"Spencer, please," she whined, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry, please, just let me cum, I promise I'll be good."

It apparently wasn't to his satisfaction, because he continued tracing patterns along her inner thigh as his cum dripped down it. His eyes searched hers, silently telling her what she needed to say to get what she wanted.

She almost smiled as she said it, dropping her voice to a seductive plea. "Pretty please..."

He smirked, sliding his fingers inside her. "That's my girl."

He fucked his cum back into her with his fingers, curling them and feeling her tighten around him as she got closer. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, ohh..."she trailed off, shutting her eyes and going blind with pleasure. Soon enough she was crying out as she peaked, her fingernails no doubt leaving marks in Spencer's shoulders, even through the fabric of his shirt.

When she caught her breath and loosened her grip on him, he removed his fingers from her and brought them to his mouth, doing his best to get rid of most of the mess. But then, as if he'd had an epiphany, Y/N watched as he pulled his panties from his pocket and used them to clean up between her legs and what little had made its way onto his pants and the seat of the car beneath them.

"You know I put napkins in the glovebox, right?" she laughed as she got off his lap and sat down in her own seat. She grabbed one of them and opened it to bunch her panties in, finally setting it in her lap as Spencer readjusted himself.

"Yeah, but that was more fun anyway," he replied matter-of-factly, and it made her smile.

"Hey, before we go home can we stop for a burger? Car sex makes me crave fast food."

As he started the car and turned on the radio, the familiar tune of Love Song by Tesla picking up where it left off on the mix CD she'd made him for their anniversary, he leaned over to kiss her cheek sweetly. "Anything for you, pretty girl."

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Overprotective- Spencer Reid X Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Young!Reader

Request by @ghostofmags : can we get a spencer imagine where the reader is younger and he likes to think he has to protect her because she also is very smol :) thanks

Warnings: cursing, like lots of it, angst, relationship problems, specified female reader, fluff at the end

WC: 1.7k

Tag list

A/N: little note here, so when I read younger I thought ten or so years younger. So Spencer is let's say 38 or 39 (pretty much his actual age) and reader is about 28. Also, I might mention the fact that reader is shorter than Spencer, because that's what it says on the request, it's not a big deal, but I'm saying anyways in case someone doesn't like that. But honestly idrk if this is what you wanted? But, here it is, I'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted

You hadn't exchanged a word since you landed. There was so much tension radiating between you and Spencer you could cut it slick with a knife. And it wasn't because you didn't have anything to say. God no. You had so much to say you felt like you were going to explode. But you were professional and you didn't want to make a scene in front of the team. So you waited until you were at the privacy of your shared apartment to make a scene. And the moment you heard Spencer shut the front door behind him, you started yelling.

"I can't fucking believe you, Spencer!" You yelled at the Doctor, your voice just echoing on the walls.

Needless to say, Spencer was not in the mood, nor had the energy to deal with you right now. The case the team had been working on was a particularly long and difficult one and he was exhausted. He let out a long and exasperated sigh, running a hand through his brown curls, mentally preparing himself to deal with you, "can we not do this right now? I'm exhausted, I really don't want to fight." He pretty much begged, sounding exhausted beyond relief. In a different situation, you would've been more reasonable, more understanding and you would've let it go. But this time, it just became too much, you were too angry and too frustrated with him to let it go.

"Oh no, we're doing this right now. You're gonna listen to everything I have to say." You said almost sternly, crossing your arms over your chest. You were just trying not to snap, you really were trying. But the response he gave you wasn't helping, at all.

He sighed again and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead before speaking, "look, you can yell at me all you want. Tomorrow. I'm really not in the mood to deal with this right now." He half rolled his eyes and sighed, starting to walk away. Probably not the wisest choice.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he started to walk away, your lips pursing together irritatingly, "Spencer, don't walk away or I swear to God." You pretty much growled, your words coming out harsher than you intended to and a hand came to grab his forearm, making him stop dead on his tracks. You could've sworn you heard him mutter under his breath as he took a few steps back until you let his arm go.

"What." Was his only response, his tone absolutely stripped of emotion and care, and he held an equally blank face expression. It took all of your will power not to strangle him right there and then.

"Don't fucking what me, Spencer. I'm fucking tired of you treating me like a goddamn child!" You shouted at him, hands coming up in the air as you shouted angry words at the tall brunette. Who's only response was an unamused expression and a roll of eyes. "See what I mean? You're always undermining me and you never take me seriously. You always talk for me, you refuse to let me talk to unsubs alone, I always have to be on the field with you. And that's if I even get to go out on the field in the first place, because you make sure to make me stay back every chance you get!" You continued to shout, letting out every frustration you've bottled up for the past two years you've been dating Spencer.

All the while, Spencer stood there silently, taking all your screams quietly. He was usually rather calm and collected during your part of a fight, and he'd listen, quietly. And that was just worse than screaming at you from the get go, because that meant you were going to get a mouthful when you were done. He was like the calm before the storm. And you definitely didn't want to be around when that storm finally came by.

"Spencer, you can't just keep me out of the field like that whenever you fucking please. I may be younger than you, but that doesn't mean I'm less capable of doing my job than you are. And I just wish you would stop treating me like a child, who needs to be under your protection twenty-four-seven because I don't." You finally finished your rant, your voice lowering down by the end of it. But you were still just as agitated and frustrated. You were basically all up in his face by the time you were done. Well, all up in his chest, because you barely made it to his chin. Meaning, you had to tilt your head up as much as you could to look at him, and even then, you stood short.

The entire time you spoke, Spencer kept his gaze forward, way past your head, not even bothering you to look down at you. Until he decided to speak. "You done?" He finally looked down at you, his lips pursed into an irritated expression. You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged as a response. "Great. Now that you're done unnecessarily screaming at my face, we can talk like the adult you claim to be." He started, already pushing at your buttons even more. "You see, I would treat you like an adult, I really would, I would if you acted like one. Maybe if you weren't so short fused, or if you actually showed me you can handle things on your own I wouldn't feel the need to have to protect you all the time."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you listened to him continue to undermine you. Maybe having this conversation after a week long case and a five hour flight wasn't exactly ideal. Spencer can be more harsh and— with a lack of a better word— more of an ass during arguments when tired and annoyed. And you figured, you were getting nowhere screaming at him. He didn't respond well to that.

"I'm an adult, Spencer, I'm damn near thirty years old, I don't need your protection." You defended, puffing out a small breath through your nose, "and I get that I still may be younger than you but I'm not your daughter, I don't need you watching over my shoulder all the time, shielding me from the dangers of the world. And I just wish you stopped treating like some helpless child that needs your protection." You said, your tone changing from angry to tired and hurt. Because as much as you hated to admit it, every time Spencer treated you like you weren't capable of taking care of yourself, it made you feel just as such.

Spencer stayed silent for a good minute, his previously cold and hard expression of annoyance starting to slowly soften. He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand into his curls but still said nothing.

You sighed, shaking your head before turning around to walk away, knowing this conversation was going nowhere. Spencer took that as his cue to do something. "Hey, no, come here." He sighed, reaching to grab a hold of your arm like you did his earlier. And you stopped when you felt his grip of your arm, half turning your body to face him and simply let him slowly drag you back, not fighting but not welcoming him either. You looked up at him with a deep frown and pursed lips, your arms folded over your chest, letting him know you weren't letting your walls down so easily.

"I know you're not my daughter. I never said you were." He starts to say, carefully grabbing your face into his significantly larger hands and looked down at you with his usually soft amber eyes, "but you're my girlfriend, and I love you. And I don't know if I could ever live with the idea of losing the love of my life again. That's why I'm so protective of you all the time."

You let out a small breath, your demeanor starting to change into a more calm and relaxed one the moment he grabbed your face. You slowly relaxed your body, eventually dropping your arms to your sides and your expression half softened.

You always knew Spencer was scared of losing the people he loved, god knows he has, but something about hearing him say that broke your heart and it made you want to understand him, "Spencer, I know. And I get it, I really do. But you can't just keep me from doing my job just because you want to protect me. I'm not any less capable at taking care of myself than you are just because I'm younger and it really hurts that you think I can't take of myself."

"I know and I'm sorry. But can you blame? You're just so—" he lightly squeezed your face in his hands, finding amusement in how small you looked from his perspective, having to tilt his head down to look at him and even tower over you sometimes. "I could easily pin you down or throw you over my shoulder. I mean, look how small and cute you are, you really blame for trying to protect you all the time?" He laughed softly, going back to his cute and more playful demeanor you loved so much, wanting apologize for his previous words and behavior in a way he knew would work better on you than an apology.

Though you still laughed at his words, they still earned him a glare and a hard smack on the chest, "I may be small and short but I can still kick your ass faster than you can name kidnapping statistics so don't even test me." You said matter of factly, narrowing your eyes at him and playfully poked his chest.

Spencer chuckled, raising his arms up in defense and nodded, taking a step back playfully, "yeah, I've seen you train, and shoot. I'd rather not your aim." He laughed softly, stepping forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body to his, "but seriously, you're the strongest, bravest and most capable woman I've ever met, and I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you aren't. I just, I could never live with the fact that I let you get hurt or couldn't protect you if something ever happened to you. But I promise I'll work on my protectiveness."

"That's all I wanted to hear."

~~~~~~~~~

So this is my first Spencer Reid work. Honestly I'm not too happy with the end result of it. But we all start somewhere right? I'm trying to get back to writing so if you have any Reid request please send them my way. And if you'd like to be added to my Spencer Reid tag list also let me know. So yeah, thanks for reading this garbage and I'm out for now. Buh bye!

[catboymingi]

birthday boy

navi/masterlist

pairing: hongjoong x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: just a little language + threats of kicks to the kneecaps

a/n: inspired by me finishing an assignment i had a week for in like two hours because i wanted to write for this gem’s birthday

sadly, responsibilities don’t stop just because it’s your boyfriend’s birthday. but maybe your boyfriend’s birthday can aid as a motivation to get your work done and over with so you can finally smother him in love

it was your boyfriend’s birthday, but sadly, it was also exam season, and even more sadly did your boyfriend care about your grades more than you did. so you were banned from going out with him, even though you wanted nothing more than that, because he knew you were far from finished with an essay that for some reason unbeknownst to everyone in the course made up more than half of your grade. he told you that you’d have a lot more chances to celebrate with him, but you most definitely did not have a lot more chances to do this essay, and while you hated to admit it he had a point. hongjoong had offered to stay home with you, spending a chill birthday with his head in your lap while you were happily - or not so happily - typing away on your laptop, but this time it had been you who banned him from doing that. it was his birthday and he was going to have fun, and if you had to make his group of rowdies drag him out of your shared apartment by the ears then you would.

“but i want to spend my birthday with you!”, he’d whined out, but you remained hard. no way would you let him stay home with you on his birthday.

“too bad, the boys are already on their way and they have orders to not let you leave until you’ve had the time of your life.”

he was convinced it was impossible to have the time of his life without you there, but you were unrelenting, and when mingi did almost drag him by the hair he finally gave in, sending you a last pouty glance before he left with his friends.

while your love was (hopefully - if not you’d beat all seven boys’ asses) having a good time you found yourself staring at the damned screen that kept you from spending his birthday with him, cursing the hell machine and especially cursing the course and the teacher, but then your attitude shifted towards one of determined concentration, because if you managed to get the basics done today you’d maybe get to spend at least a little time with the birthday boy. your fingers tapped away high-speed, most likely faster than you’d ever typed before. now you had something that was actually worth finishing the essay for, and it surprised you how great of a motivation a badly sung karaoke duet with your darling and mocktails that very much tasted like mocktails rather than a decent drink but that you’d still get at least three of could be.

when you managed to get the entire thirteen pages first draft done in the span of roughly twelve hours you realised just how much of a motivation your boyfriend was, because when you’d started for the day your essay pretty much looked like that one spongebob episode where all that was written on the paper was ‘the’ in a fancy font. you’d already read a lot of literature (spent way more time on it than you’d like to admit), so it was just to put your thoughts into words, and the complete lack of distraction along with being so absolutely in love with your boy and wanting to spend his birthday with him had suddenly turned you into some kind of super genius writing machine. not that you’d complain, though, because it was now nine thirty in the evening and you knew that if you hurried to get ready you’d be able to join the boys for at least a little fun. so you messaged seonghwa, threatening him with a kick to the kneecaps if he told hongjoong that you were coming, and asked him where they were so you could come join them. he told you and promised to keep the boys there until you arrived, “and if i have to chain them to the chairs”, which you knew he actually would if push came to shove because he knew how much his friend had wanted you there for his birthday and he wasn’t going to ruin that opportunity just because they’d already left the lousy karaoke bar.

//

seonghwa had kept his promise, much to his kneecaps’ pleasure, and it was easy to spot the group of loud boys as soon as you entered the karaoke bar. currently mingi and jongho were dueting, a combination you’d only ever see on nights like these where all shame was discarded and mingi no longer worried about being a bad singer. not that he was, but compared to his friends he barely sang, so he seemed a little shy about doing it when it was serious environments where people would judge. now, however, he was happily singing along to some rock song you probably knew but couldn’t name, with the rest of the boys taking the role of unofficial groupies. they hadn’t spotted you yet, but when you let out a loud cheer at some high note that jongho hit flawlessly and that mingi decided to turn into a low note the youngest noticed that someone new had entered, a smile spreading when he saw it was you. mingi was the next to realise, most likely because of his height and the advantage of being on the stage, reacting less calmly than his friend and letting out a cheer himself. that got the other boys’ attention, and you couldn’t wait to kiss your boyfriend when you saw the surprised smile on his face. you were glad you hadn’t worn heels, because the floor was somewhat slippery and you walked faster than would have been responsible if your shoes hadn’t been flat.

“happy birthday, my favourite”, kiss, “best”, kiss, “most amazing”, kiss, “perfect”, kiss, “absolutely adorable”, kiss, “boyfriend.”

you could tell your actions embarrassed him just a little, increasing when yunho groaned out that he felt so incredibly single right now. he quickly recovered, though, asking the question that you knew would come sooner or later, considering the reason why you hadn’t been able to spend the entire day with him.

“but your essay?” you could see that your love hoped you hadn’t neglected studying just to spend time with him, but even though you loved him to no end you’d never do that, if only for the fact that he’d never let you.

“i got the first draft done today, so i’ll beta read and touch up on it the next few days.”

his eyes were wide in surprise again, because you’d been working on the first draft for so long now that he didn’t even remember when you first started (though you’d admittedly mainly read the literature and procrastinated), and now you’d finished it in a single day.

“you know how i can be when i want to spend time with you. especially on your birthday”, you laughed at his expression, and he grinned at you because he certainly did know. the first birthday you’d spent with him you had coerced him to wear a suit through what could only be described as loving blackmail, and you’d put on your prom dress, because even though you were only going to a lousy karaoke bar with his friends - much like today - you’d told him that the day had to be special and you had to look special and he just hadn’t been able to say no to you, especially not when you’d threatened him with kiss withdrawal. then, the second birthday he’d spent with you, you’d baked him a several storey cake, refusing to let him help you even though you were hopeless at baking, instead coercing his friends into helping you with much less loving blackmail and threats of kicks to the kneecaps - your favourite threat, he’d noticed. seonghwa had been the main one to help because he was the only one patient enough to stay in the kitchen with you through all four storeys - a number you’d chosen because hongjoong liked the number four and was also turning 24 so naturally, the cake had to have four storeys. now he was turning 25 and you’d finished a task you’d been working on for about two weeks now in a single day because you wanted to see him. really, he adored you and how much you obviously loved him.

“i know”, he confirmed before leaning in to kiss you, doing so for longer than his friends appreciated, “and i love you for that.”

“i love you more.” dare to disagree, your eyes told him, and he knew that today he would definitely be the loser of “i love you most, no take backs”, so he didn’t even try.

“love me enough for a duet?”, he asked instead, though he already knew the answer would be yes. of course the answer would be yes.

his - both of your - friends cheered for you when you sang the cheesiest love song one could think of, because hongjoong had wanted to make you flustered with the choice of song, only to get flustered himself when you sang it at him in total sincerity. mingi was his choice of shelter once the song was over, and both you and the boys laughed at that, though without any malice. it was a perfect night, it really was, from the moment you’d gotten to the bar to the moment you said goodbye to the others and went home with him, hands intertwined the entire way.

it was still perfect when you changed into your pyjamas - or what you decided to call such, sweatpants for him and one of his shirts for you - and laid down together, his head on your chest because he was the birthday boy and the birthday boy was the one to get held, pressing gentle kisses to the top of his head and being repaid with somewhat awkwardly placed kisses to your chest over his shirt. and it couldn’t get more perfect when you told him you loved him and he told you he loved you, too, and that he was so happy he’d gotten to spend at least part of his birthday with you, because without you it didn’t feel like a real one. and it deserved an oscar for the cheesiest scene when you fell asleep completely intertwined, heartbeats in sync and the moon casting a soft light onto both of your sleeping forms.

[thegoodprincess]

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 3

Author: thegoodprincess

Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character

Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au

Word Count: 1.7k [series, ongoing]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.

Author’s note: A character named Malachi appears in this chapter. His dialogue is italicized for the purpose of demonstrating that he has the ability to telepathically communicate with the main female OC. Just thought I’d point that out. 😉

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together

Chapter 3. Rescue

'Cause all I need is the love you breathe. Put your lips on me and I can live. — Mika

In an instant I was completely submerged with a few feet of water above my head. I was met with the piercing feeling of the water right away. It was so severely cold that I was sent into a brief state of shock from the almost unbearable pain. Every muscle in my body simultaneously tensed, my throat felt as though I was being asphyxiated, and my eyes burned.

As ironic as it sounds, I took a few moments to ground myself. I tried as best I could to endure being suspended in the water. All four of my other senses were completely numbed out, forcing me to feel the full extent of the water.

Willing myself to focus on something else, literally anything that would momentarily distract me from the pain that had activated my fight or flight response, was when I noticed how eerily silent it was underwater. It was so much more strikingly different than it was on land.

The silence above the surface felt like being alone; blissful, refreshing, and introspective. But underneath the water it was lonely; pressurized, desolate, and suffocating.

Being beneath the darkness of the ice only amplified the absence of sound. This in turn made it seem as though the frantic thoughts in my head were the only thing I heard; they were deafening.

Once the initial shock wore off, I identified the pain as being equivalent to repeatedly being stabbed by a million extremely sharp blades all at once. The pain only intensified as I moved through the water. Every stroke of my arms and kick of my legs transformed each penetrating stab into an agonizing slice that tore deep along my skin from what felt like the inside out. Although I could not die, the sensation was excruciating as it traveled through every nerve ending of my body. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like for him.

Fighting through my discomfort, I adjusted my eyes in the dark water so that I could search for him. I spotted him slowing sinking further and further down, making no effort to swim. His eyes were closed and his face was serene as if he were sleeping. The water surrounding him was tinted scarlet from the blood oozing out his wound. It was safe to assume that he blacked out on impact from shock. If I didn’t get to him quickly enough, he was going to drown.

Using all the force I could muster I aggressively swam to him and was able to grab ahold of his wrist. After tugging him towards me, I did the only thing I could think of that would save his life. I kissed him, giving him my breath. Upon my lips meeting his, a blindingly bright light was emitted and my wings came around him engulfing him in a bubble of my aura. I closed my eyes and we ascended upwards near the surface of the water. Both of our heads broke to the surface. I took a big gulp of air, but he remained unconscious. Tucking my arms under his and gripping him tightly to keep his head above water, I swam to the edge of the river. Once I reached the edge I hauled the both of us up out of the water.

I dragged his limp body back to the cold pavement. I tried as best I could to find an area that wasn’t coated in a copious amount of snow and gently laid him down on his back. In an instant my lips were back on his to breathe life back into him. I then pressed his chest to push out any water that he may have swallowed into his lungs. Immediately he began coughing up water, sputtering out between choked breaths. He was just barely conscious. His eyes flicked rapidly beneath his heavy eyelids. He barely managed to open them after I gently slapped at his face, but he only looked at me with a glassy stare. He wasn’t fully aware of what was going on or of my presence. His body was only instinctually taking in oxygen to fight for survival.

Taking a moment to assess his state, it was the first time I was able to fully take in his appearance. His skin was pale white, it almost looked translucent. His lips were already tinged blue and ice was beginning to form on his eyelashes. His hair was completely drenched and sticking in clumps to his face and scalp. I moved his bangs off his forehead.

He was shivering. I placed my hand on his cheek. His skin was ice cold to the touch. The water had gone through every fiber of his clothes despite the layers, throughly soaking his body down to the bone. The air around him only intensified the heat loss, bitting viscously at him. He was softly moaning and whining in pain.

It was then that I noticed the snow that was near his shoulder was beginning to stain crimson. Anxiously I brought my hands from where his collarbones were up to my face. The opaque ruby fluid clung to my skin thickly coating my fingers. His clothes were not only soaked with freezing cold water but an excessive amount of his blood. The wound was bleeding at a rapid rate now.

The odds of him surviving were stacked highly against him. Even though I had saved him from drowning, my efforts were going to be in vain. If I didn’t act soon he would imminently die in my arms from either hemorrhaging or hypothermia.

Taking two fingers I palpated his neck to check his pulse. It was sluggish, indicating his health was rapidly declining. His breathing was slow and labored. He was beginning to slip in and out of consciousness.

I used up a lot of my aura already saving him under the water, but had enough to temporarily mend the wound. However, it came with a catch. On the condition that I did heal him, it would result in me not having enough energy to teleport us back to my home where I could finish reviving him. Going on foot would take too long as it would surely run the risk of him dying before we even reached half way there. And on the off chance he did survive the journey, I’d first have to restore my own spirit before I could properly attend to him. Time was of the essence.

Weighing my options I decided to tackle one task at a time, that being to heal his wound, then worry about effectively warming him up after. Placing the palm of my hand gently against his shoulder, I closed my eyes concentrating, willing the golden light energy to flow out of me and into him. In my mind I could see the threads of his being fixing themselves, my aura weaving together the broken pieces. Thankfully his bleeding stopped, but he was still shivering. I felt weaker but it was important that I stay focused. Now I needed to call for help.

“Malachi!!!” I screamed using a little more of my aura to reach out to him, summoning his aid.

Suddenly the shadows that surrounded us quickly came together rising up from the ground and morphed into an intimidating silhouette that towered over us. Before us stood a figure shrouded in what could only be described as the shadows of darkness. They wore a oversized hood that covered a majority of their face. Using their blacken fingers, they removed the garment allowing me a clear look at their face. A boy’s daunting face was revealed.

He had ashen skin that looked as though he rubbed soot into it. Despite the gray coloring of his skin his face was handsome with sharp angular features like his nose, cheekbones, and jawline. All made him appear traditionally masculine. His chin-length hair was straight and the color of the midnight sky missing the glimmer of the moonlight. It fell haphazardly over one of his pale gray eyes, one of his only “light” features. Long billowy black silk robes cascaded down his lean frame further cloaking him in the shadows. Some may have easily mistaken him for the grim reaper, but he wasn’t such a being. He looked at us bemusedly stunned trying to assess the situation. Pity swam in his usually aloof abalone irises. His eyes nervously moved between the two of us as I laid embracing the mysterious boy’s body.

“Please Malachi, I don’t have enough energy. You have to get us home so I can help him. Hurry, he’s dying,” I yelled panicking.

Malachi looked at me confused. His hauntingly beautiful voice echoed in my head. “Mistress you are not allowed to get involved in human ordeals such as their death. It is against our nature.” He cautioned, but his warning was laced faintly with sympathy.

“I know but he wasn’t supposed to die tonight. Death was meant for another. He just so happened to get involved,” I defended hastily. The longer we spent discussing the events that unfolded tonight, the more this boy’s life force ebbed further away.

“Then that is his doing, we must not concern ourselves—,” Malachi argued coldly before I abruptly cut him off.

“Malachi! I beg you. Please.” I groveled in distress at his feet. I don’t know what convinced Malachi. It may have been the way my voice had cracked at the end of my plea, the continuous tears that brimmed over my eyes obscuring my vision and left trails down my cheeks, or how my body curled in anguish as I desperately clung to the boy in my arms, but he reluctantly succumbed.

“Fine. But if there are to be repercussions, you are to take responsibility,” Malachi negotiated bluntly, void of almost all emotion. Wearing a somber expression he knelt down, encircling us both in his arms. The shadows that had previously flowed around him had stretched out towards us. Swiftly they began to envelop us, shielding us from the scene of the river before us. With that we were transported home.

[pinesprings]

Aetea: Chapter 1

(Just give me a reason, why is it so hard to find one)

Chapter Two

Summary: All hell breaks loose when JJ returns 'home' for the first time after John B's disappearance.. Luckily for him, Kiara would have never let him go in the mouth of the wolf alone

Notes: This had been chilling in my WIPs for some time now, figured I'd post for @jiaraweek . I only hope I'm not too late😅. Second chapter is almost done and on the way! (let me know if you'd like to be tagged)

Warnings: child abuse, blood and violence, head injury, injuries, panic attacks I guess. In one word, angst.

Reading time: 14 mins (1.7k words)

Or read here on ao3

***

Have you ever felt being buried alive in your brain? Your thoughts working tirelessly with your fear as a shovel, desperate to finish piling dirt over your bare body, drowning you with the mud of your deepest worries proving true.

In case you don't know how it feels to want to scream but no sound coming out, because your throat is clogged with the handfuls of panic and your trachea is crushed by the sheer brutality of your cries, you don't know how Kie felt in that moment. The undercurrent of anguish flowed through her veins instead of blood and she couldn't bring herself to hold back the muddy tears.

"Stop!! You're gonna kill him!!"

JJ landed hard on the corner of the small accent table with a sickening thud, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of his lungs, but as the father lunged forward to deliver another blow at the son, Kiara's heart ripping protest went to waste.

He laid where he fell, his body a mere mess of exerted limbs, when several cruel kicks shoved that mess to the side, coming down with brutal force, crushing his ribs, as they had done only so many times before.

Kiara averted her blurry gaze from the scene, hot tears streaming down her face as she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"You piece of shit! You so naive, thinking I wouldn't find out? Yer even more useless than I thought you were! Ya hear me?!"

And he heard, the words just another dart aiming straight at his heart, only intensifying his physical pain. JJ glanced at Kiara, something akin to guilt dimming the light in his eyes and she shuddered, because it shouldn't have been there.

Before the boy could feel more guilty for the anguished expression on her face, the beast yanked his barely conscious son from the collar of his shirt and lifted him inches above the ground. He stared directly into his blue eyes, one bruised and swollen from the punches. Although, he shouldn't be called a beast, she was being too kind, too easy on him,, Kiara thought while her tears of despair mixed with her repulse for the... the monster.

The father's face contorted in a horrific display of his madness, shaking the boy who was desperately gasping for air. The strangled noise that escaped his torn lips broke Kie's heart and twisted her insides, making her cringe in pain.

She shouted at the monster to let go of JJ so loud that the words grazed her throat, or maybe she thought so because of the lump that had formed there since they first set foot in this house of nightmares.

"Stop.."

The monster did not stop.

"Please!"

The monster didn't hesitate, didn't hold the clenched fists back.

"You're supposed to love him!" she yelled, still crying, still trying to find a way to make him stop, to take his focus off the blonde boy. Oh, that blonde boy, so full of life and love, now surrendered before the injustice of the world. Another dagger was hurled towards her heart, from all the slashes oozing pain and tears.

She gathered all her courage and prayed it was enough to help her drop the bomb:

"No wonder why your wife left you!"

She made sure to highlight every word to provoke him, she was going to draw him like a magnet, away from JJ, because she decided she couldn't bear it anymore. She couldn't bear his pain. She was being too bold, but, frankly, she didn't care. She was going to take his pain, even if that meant she had to make it hers.

Luke Maybank stopped, though he was still grasping JJ in a chokehold. His movement paused however and he responded without clenching a muscle, without turning to look at her. He stayed so awfully still and somehow that made it all so much worse.

"What did you just say?"

The monster dropped his son to fall back on the ground in a heartbeat and whirled around with a jolt. He started marching menacingly towards Kiara, her tiny frame looking like a little toy compared to his bulky build.

Kiara gulped as she backed away, but eventually her back thudded against the concrete wall and the closest possible exit was awfully far out of her reach. The monster's fist slammed the wall just above her shoulder, the force of impact causing the cheap plaster to peel away and turn into nothing more but a stain on Kiara's luscious locks and litter the ground. She yelped in surprise and terror, recoiling into a small bundle of tanned skin and raising her arms protectively around her head.

JJ laid hopelessly on the ground, coughing furiously and spitting blood, leaning on his elbow as to not choke. However when Kiara's yell so much as reached his ears, his every cell shifted towards the horrific sound.

As he watched his father looming over her and daring to threaten her, at the prospect of him laying his filthy hands on Kie- on his Kie, something finally clicked inside of him.

There was only one piece of the puzzle left and it was a perfect fit. The words, the bruises, the feelings, the pain- all composing a perfect symphony, a complex mosaic that finally spelled it out for him, loud and clear.

It was all fucking wrong.

He had known before too, but now, he knew.

Infuriated beyond reason, he wasn't bound to give up. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, summoned by all the years of mutual hell carved into his brain with the claws of injustice.

"Hey, old man!"

He took a moment to recollect the broken pieces of his self as he struggled to get back on his feet before continuing.

"Tired already?" he snarled, his mouth was dripping poison, his senses only slightly swimming. His irises contracted with hate because no matter how much it hurt to , he despised the man his father was, loathed him with a every bruise and every cut- with every fiber of his being. Years and years of despair and sorrow concealed by his disconsolate need to justify the cruelty, to be guilty of something, to find reason in the lack of affection in his father's eyes.

No matter how hard he wished, he could never find a reason.

Because there was fucking none.

The monster smirked with amusement at the comment, a gesture that only made Kiara fee morel sick. He arched an eyebrow in fake astonishment as he hissed a reply.

"You up for more, chum?"

Before he could finish poisoning the air with his alcohol scented words he was tackled over the table by his son, the sudden and violent motion earning a sharp shout of pain from them both. Soon they were brawling across the narrow room, knocking furniture aside and crashing the more fragile objects with swift, unfocused movements.

"Kiara!", the blonde yelled, and it was almost a plea, "Get the hell out of here, now!"

JJ's fist found his father's face in a glorious moment, and the monster briefly stumbled backwards before finding his balance and jabbing an elbow to his son's sides, making him groan involuntarily.

"I- I'm not leaving you!" Kie stuttered and stating her defiance to get to safety only earned her a pained glance from JJ. It was a simple look and though it lasted for half a second, Kiara could easily interpret the meaning behind it. Carefully concealed in his silence but there, was an defeated why. Why bother. It made the fire in the veins of her neck flare up and one more blade to penetrate her skin. It made the unshed stars of glistening tears sting and burn with renewed passion.

Was he really even questioning it? Was he that oblivious?

"Because I love you."

It was less than a whisper, perhaps simply a breath of wind softly hummed between cerulean waves.

Softer than the mellow aftertaste of a tangerine and coral painted sky, dispersing into a star studded darkness of the night. The bittersweet smile of an end and a beginning. Still, JJ caught it and clung to the words, unblinking, and beautiful like a god sculpted out of aegean marble. Mouth agape, scrambling to grasp the meaning, to wrap his head around the endless possibilities behind a door previously locked being slammed open before his eyes, so suddenly and widely it feels like a fever dream. Kiara's breath hitched, either aghast at her own revelation, either in the aftermath of her subsiding weeping.

Half a second had passed, and still it was enough for the monster to regain his strength. He darted forward and pushed with all his might, and suddenly JJ was sent tumbling to the ground. Kiara jolted at his fall, her breathing growing ragged and shallow, her chest heaving desperately in search of air, to no avail.

With every punch Kiara was spiraling further down, further away, until she couldn't feel, and she couldn't hear, and she couldn't see through the wet and cloudy barricades oozing from her hollow eyes.

There's a scream, muffled and desperate. And there's blood accompanying the sharp crunch of bone. There's blood on knuckles and there's blood on face. There's blood on her vision, dragging her back to reality, anchoring her mind to the pain and her feet to the wooden planks a little too dirty to belong to an inhabited home.

But as Kiara stood rooted to the ground, her legs slowly being deprived of feeling as her whole body was shaking in loud sobs of despair, she felt something entirely different. Right there, in the pit of her stomach, was brewing something other than the sickness and nausea that overwhelmed her.

It was gaining ground. Winning.

Anger.

Rage that fueled up her courage, the intoxicating need to express itself started pulling her invisible strings.

In the haze of her madness she grabbed the very first thing she was able to reach with nervous and tense, although concentrated movements.

JJ's weak groans hadn't subsided until he drifted out of consciousness. The monster kept on hitting his son mercilessly. Devoured by his unquenchable desire for pain the monster didn't notice how that 'pathetic little bitch' that had come along with his disappointment of a son, towered over his unprotected back.

Steel determination adorned her still watery eyes. Only a shrieking cry reached the monster's ears, and even thay was hollowed out by his blood lust.

He turned around just in time to feel the cold glass shatter, and sink into his scalp.

[milfgritty]

i’ll be good | j. hughes & t. zegras

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ word count: 1.7k

having a crush on one person was confusing enough. now throw in one of their teammates and you weren’t sure where that left you anymore.

⇢ posted: 04.12.19 . | . masterlist   prev. | next.

Walking into the small party, a thrill rushed through you. This was one of your favorite things; the celebration after a big win. All of the guys were happy, smiles adorning their faces, everyone in a good mood.

Eyes sweeping over the room, it took only a few seconds before they landed on the other reason you loved these parties so much.

Jack stood in the middle of the group with a cup gripped loosely in his hands, laughing with his teammates. Your heart gave a flutter and you couldn’t stop the tiny smile that crept onto your lips. It amazed you that the crush you had on him was still going strong even after so long. It started soon after you were introduced to the group, the guys quickly accepting you in as one of their own. Minus the whole male hockey player part, of course. At first, they were all just friends to you. Some friends that just happened to be more attractive than others. And then your eyes began being drawn to Jack every time you were around each other.

It started small, innocent, and the next thing you knew you were head over heels for the talented teen.

Obviously, nothing ever came of your feelings, in part due to Jack being oblivious to you. The two of you were friends to him, nothing more.

Always nothing more.

That didn’t stop you from being attracted like a moth to a flame, though you did at least hide it for the most part. A small part of you kept up hope that maybe he did return your feelings, one that was bigger than you cared to admit.

You found yourself brought back to the present when a hand dropped onto your shoulder in greeting. Gaze traveling upward, you met the owner’s eyes.

“Hey, Trev,” you grinned, having to raise your voice to be heard.

Drawing his hand back to run it through his hand, he returned your warm smile, “Just get here?”

Humming, you nodded. Trevor shuffled closer to you, trying to avoid having to yell.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered, raising his eyebrows.

Looking back to the group that was beginning to disperse on the other side of the room, you shook your head. “I think I’m good for right now. I’m actually gonna go say hi to the rest of the guys.”

His expression dropped for a second before he perked back up. “Oh, cool. You should go do that.”

By the time he had finished talking you were already moving away, his words drowning out behind you. Guilt weighed on you for leaving so swiftly, but you wanted to catch Jack before he got pulled into another conversation. Dancing around people, you muttered apologies here and there when you felt yourself collide with a body.

Jack had already disappeared into the kitchen once you reached your destination. Huffing out a breath, you started to second guess your decision of wanting to talk to him alone. What were you even going to say anyway? Wow Jack, great game. That goal you scored near the end of the third was really something.

Yea, because that wasn’t awkward at all.

Mentally cursing yourself, you hadn’t noticed that you were wandering near the kitchen until the music began fading and you could hear voices. Furrowing your brows, you made your way closer to the room when the conversation became clearer.

“Did you see that one chick near the benches?” one of them laughed loudly. “Damn, she was so hot.”

A chorus of agreements rung out as you paused in your steps. You were just about to turn around and leave when an achingly familiar voice started talking.

“She slipped me her number after the game,” Jack told them, smugness dripping from his voice.

“Oh, come on,” someone groaned at the same time another yelled, “That’s so not fair, man!”

Another round of laughter set in, along with the dull sound of one of them hitting another.

When the noise finally died back down, the voice that you now recognized as Cole spoke up. “So,” he drew out, getting another few laughs before continuing, “You gonna text her?”

You waited with bated breath for Jack’s answer, leaning closer to the cracked door separating them from you.

Long seconds passed, Jack seemingly leaving them in suspense. Damn it, you wish you could see what was happening. Just as you were about to give up and leave, he answered.

“Maybe,” he said, words muffled and yet still managing to come off as sly.

The rest of the guys hooted and whistled, someone shouting out, “Get it, Hughes!”

Tears filled your eyes against your will and you turned to flee. You barely registered Jack yelling, “You almost made me spill my damn drink!”, his voice already fading out. Instead, the loud music from earlier once more surrounded you. Pushing through bodies gave you a sense of deja-vu, only this time you were frantic in your attempt to escape from the scene behind you.

You knew you were overreacting, being dramatic without actual cause. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you had no control over Jack. He could go after whoever he wanted.

But god, did it hurt that it wasn’t you.

Reaching the front door, you hurried outside. The chill immediately crashed into you, leaving you immensely grateful that you hadn’t taken off your jacket when you got there. You fought down the pain in your heart and chest, letting the cold numb you inside and out as you walked down the porch’s steps.

Sucking in a labored breath, you came to a decision. It was time to move on from him. You had known that for a while, but it was always the what if’s that stopped you from committing to it.

Now, with your mind flashing back to the kitchen, you knew that there weren’t anymore what if’s left. If Jack liked you then he would’ve done something by now, asked you out or made a move or something.

You had to move on. You were going to move on.

Partway to your car, you were brought out of your thoughts for the second time that night.

“Y/N!” a voice huffed behind you. Spinning, you were brought face to face with a shivering Trevor. His face was already flush from the chill and his hair was fluffy, sticking up in all directions.

“Trev?”

You couldn’t stop the confused frown from pulling at your features, unsure of what he was chasing you down for. He signaled for you to wait a second, causing a giggle to fall from your lips without your meaning to.

“What are you doing, Trev?” you smiled lightly, trying to ignore the heartache that was still attempting to surface. It helped that Trevor looked adorable as he remained bent over gasping for breath. “Come on, aren’t you supposed to be an athlete?” you couldn’t help but tease him.

His lips tugged up into a sarcastic grin in response, a half-muttered ‘ha ha’ barely audible before he straightened up. As soon as he did it was like all lightheartedness left him, leaving him fidgeting slightly and avoiding eye contact.

“You just got here, you’re leaving already?”

Lips parting in surprise, you were taken aback. You should’ve been expecting that to be what he wanted, but it just seemed like there was something more to it. Clearing your throat, you shifted your weight and looked away. “Yea, I’m just not feeling too good,” you assured him, throwing in a weak smile for extra measure.

“Oh,” he mumbled, bobbing his head. He opened his mouth as though going to talk before shutting it, instead pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. Silence lapsed between the two of you, the only sound being the distant music coming from the house.

It lasted a minute longer before you broke it, just wanting to go home and get changed. “Seriously, Trev. What is it?” You kept your voice soft, not having any energy left. You were just completely and utterly mentally drained.

Panic flitted across his face for a moment. He coughed a bit before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, look,” he started, a hand moving up before stopped it, “I was gonna do this later, but since you’re leaving and all I’ll just get it over with now.”

“That sounds promising,” you cut in, unable to help the dry remark.

Trevor scoffed under his breath, rolling his eyes. The two of you shared a smile which seemed to fuel him on as he continued.

“I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, but I just haven’t been able to work up the nerve I guess.” He stopped again, features scrunched up as he hurried on. “Look, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve liked you for a long time and I wanted to know if you maybe wanted to go out with me sometime?”

Oh.

Oh.

Trevor was asking you out. On a date. Right now. When you said you wanted to move on, you didn’t think like this.

Mouth gaping, your mind reeled. You couldn’t say yes, could you? You were just pining over Jack less than ten minutes ago and now?

Except watching Trevor fidget nervously, anxiously watching you for a response, made you pause. Maybe this was what you needed to help you get over Jack. Really, if Jack was never in the picture in the first place you could actually see yourself liking Trevor. The two of you fit well together, felt comfortable with each other, and most importantly he actually liked you. You couldn’t let him down like that.

Before you fully realized what you were doing, you were already whispering, “Yea. I’d like that.”

It took a second for him to realize what you had said, but when he did you knew you had done the right thing. The beaming smile that spread across his face matched the relief shining in his eyes.

“Yea?” he asked, unbelieving. Letting out a small laugh, you nodded in response. “Great,” he breathed out, “That’s great. I’ll text you?”

Nodding once more, you began backing up. “I’ll be waiting for it.”

And for the first time since you could remember, you thought that maybe it wasn’t Jack after all.

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

There’s a reason why Chronos was such a cruel god.

I almost forgot to post this fic... I started it a while back, got art block, and only went back to it during a boring geography lesson during Whumptober. It was also not meant to be an Inazuma fic, but sometimes I have a weird creativity and muse. Don't ask me, the wonders of the human mind I guess. It'll come to literally nobody's surprise that I ship Anna and Nosaka because I'm the token F/M shipper of the main fanfic writers of this fandom (y'know, gotta contrast my colleagues and provide the stuff nobody but me and maybe an IRL friend wants). I'm surprised I've never managed to finish a fic with them before, tho: yes, the previous prompt fill, "Bedside Vigil" was supposed to be for them until I switched to Haizaki/Akane over... my Tomodachi Life game immediately pairing them up (true story). Anyway. This fic does imply to a road accident of some sort, so if you're sensitive to this kind of topic (for which you're entirely justified, tbh, that's coming from someone who's almost been in one), proceed with caution. It's nothing graphic or anything, just floating in the background of this story, though. I also almost forgot to mention this is supposed to be set in my Inazuma Café AU, but the only reason why you need to know that is because they're college students there, and why Anna and Hikaru are as friendly to each other as they are here. I mean, if you wanna know more, I'll gladly respond to questions.

It’s also the last story I can write for this card without getting a Five in a Row, which I may or may not have done on purpose lol

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For Time Cannot Be Accelerated

Summary: Anna didn't think ambulance rides could last this long on the mind. She was seriously proven wrong.

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven (Ares/Orion continuity; implied college AU) Relationships: Platonic Anna & Hikaru friendship, implied established Anna/Nosaka

Wordcount: 1.7K words

Content Warnings: Implied road accident, talks of death, some blood and talk of injury.

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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They’re all tense in the ambulance. It doesn’t help that they share a small space amongst themselves, all cranked in one back of a truck that had clearly been made to have one stretcher and the paramedics watching over it. Nobody talks, except the latter amongst themselves in the front of the ambulance and through the vehicle. Instead, they don’t look at each other, too busy staring at the floor or their responsibility.

Anna has opted for the floor, for the time being.

 It’s overwhelming to remain here, in a crowded place where she felt alone nonetheless, drowned in the noise of the beeping machinery and blaring sirens echoing on the inside, feet surrounded by wires, hands trembling and sorrow she desperately kept inside. Her thoughts are still shaken from what had happened merely moments before, isolating her even further, words having escaped from her mouth and her vocal cords remaining knotted with no throat clearing able to untie them back to usefulness. She’s speechless, voiceless, useless.

Her shoulder is pressed against Ichihoshi’s, whose hand happens to sometimes brush against her naked arms. From what little she can see of his face, drowned in the darkness of the vehicle and lit by the unstable, flickering coloured lights of the different monitors crippling her earing, he isn’t any more relaxed than she was, shoulders stiff and frowned eyebrows, biting his lip, trying not to fidget with his fingers. She feels like she should be telling him something to make him untense, but considering how tense she also is, she has no idea what she’s even supposed to utter. Her mental syllabus has given up on her for the time being.

 In this moment of despair and desolation, Anna still admires the valiant efforts of the paramedics making sense of the numbers displayed on tiny screens and muttering a language she doesn’t understand most of, words whose meaning she has no idea of flying way over her head. They’ve kept their cool when she was on the verge of tears, an unknown yet powerful force preventing her from falling to her knees and weeping like she is, frankly, wanting to do above everything else. Still, she’s the Empress, and no Empress has ever cried when her capacity of judgement was needed.

The air of the ambulance was hot, too much so, smothering both Ichihoshi and her. If she could take a breather outside, even if it’d be for a mere moment or from a minuscule hole, her head would spin far less quickly, her world would stabilize, her mind would be much further from the verge of breaking down under its own weight. She craves tranquillity and serenity, two states of mind she’s meant to have and yet lacked in these desperate moments.

 Anna has started finding ways to recover her calm. The floor of the ambulance which seemed highly uncomfortable and disgustingly dirty when she climbed in now looked more than comfortable enough to her, but they lacked the space to even attempt sitting down. Before long, she’s realized the hard reality of things: there’s no way for her to get even the slightest bit more comfortable, and despite the speeds this vehicle is going at, it’s still taking ages in her mind.

In a way, it reminds her of being on a sinking ship, swimming in the cold sea, except she doesn’t even have the merit of risking hypothermia because she’s boarding on a rescue boat while someone else is pushing it, giving their skin to the freezing waters and floating debris. Morbid imagery she tries to erase out of her mind as soon as possible, yet the beating of her heart making itself known in her head and neck prevent her from not thinking about death nor debris.

 “I… I hope everything will be alright,” Ichihoshi eventually stutters, in an almost-whisper, voice hiding behind the ill-paced cacophony.

“So do I,” she replies as she notices something was dripping along her skin, eyeing the liquid going down her arm. Drifting her glance in its direction, she sees he’s holding his right arm with his left hand pressed against his jacket’s fabric, a faint difference in colours showing up in the mostly uniform light blue-and-red that his white sleeves had become.

As a result, her voice changes in tone, “are you okay, Ichihoshi?”

“It stings, but it’s nothing too bad. I’ll have it checked when we’ll arrive.”

The trembling, weakness in his own voice makes her more than doubtful of his statement. He’s unstable on his feet, almost swaying, crashing into her when the ambulance unfortunately shifted too quickly for him to catch himself on something, fingers slipping on the metal walls. She barely catches him with weak arms, legs feeling fainter until she’s stabilized him on his feet.

“I don’t believe that it can’t be ‘too bad’, if you’re tilting this much,” she tells him, even more concern melting into acid. “Let me see”.

 A sense of responsibility gives her back some of her stability, legs straightening up, eyes sharper as she tried to see in the half-dark. Without a word, she took off her comrade’s sleeve, noticing the sharp contrast marked by what could only be a wound. It seems like a deep cut, with shards reflecting the dim lights visibly exiting from it. Her hair rises on her limbs as soon as she knows what this is about.

“How long do we have left until we arrive?” She demands, in an imploring voice, to the paramedics.

They’re not able to provide a clear time, “a couple minutes left, traffic’s really bad, our apologies”, so she has to deal with it and simply keep Ichihoshi close to her, making sure he doesn’t trip on himself, inspecting for other wounds he could have. Aside from his arm, she thinks she sees a stain on his stomach and another on his right leg, although they’re less noticeable and she kind of sighs in relief to herself about that fact. It must mean they’re less grievous than the one she saw first.

 “I really hope he’s gonna be okay…” Ichihoshi whispers close to her ear, back lying against the metal.

The concern she’s tried to hold in until now by thinking of something else and failing to fully do so breaks through the gates and floods her mind again. She has too much to worry about and not enough available space, the scratches on her knees and elbows from the glass shards paling in comparison to the anguish that this ambulance ride is starting to become.

“Same here…” Her voice almost chokes on itself, but she breathes in and out, swallows her pride and her stress in one gulp, and continues speaking as not to betray her actual state of mind. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s pulled through worse, I know it…”

Her hands still enlace themselves in a silent prayer she tries to hide from the world.

“He’ll… be fine. He will be fine.”

She wants to cry.

“You’re right. Surely he’ll make it…”

 Anna isn’t lying to reassure herself, merely speaking her truth. Yuuma has always proven himself to being capable of the most daring stunts, even life-threatening ones. While she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to fully forgive him hiding his tumour away from her for reasons he’s never quite told her about, merely tune down the hurt he’s caused her by taking in account the reasons he did so; she has to use it as proof it should be fine. She only has hope to keep herself afloat now, her reason having fled the scene.

Yuuma is capable of great things, that much she’s sure of. She doesn’t know him entirely yet, and is certain she won’t ever be able to fully understand his character, yet she trusts him with her own life and, in these dire moments, he needs her. He needs her to remain strong and level-headed, to withstand the pressure and the desolation taking root inside her heart. They’ve promised to remain together and be there for each other: it’s time for her to fulfil her part of the trade.

Plus, from the three of them involved in this tragic accident, she’s the only one who has grazes instead of injuries. She also has to keep an eye on Ichihoshi on behalf of both Yuuma and her.

 “He’ll make it. I’m certain of it,” she repeats, more to herself than to her friend.

“I’m sure of it too,” he adds, in a similar fashion, and they’re back to both silently pray in silence as time slowly flows before their eyes, like the calm waves of a serene beach coming and going. If she closes her eyes and tries ignoring reality enough, she can almost hear the sea instead of sirens and cryptic whispers.

“And you? Are you okay?” she asks, her hands leaving their praying position, about to inspect her friend.

“I’ll be fine…”

He sounds too unsure to her liking, but before she can even comment on that, the atmosphere changes as she hears in echoes the nearby sirens of other ambulances.

 This is when Anna realizes that she couldn’t have been more relieved to see a hospital in her life, making sights she’d have wished never to see again some she was looking forward to: the paramedics shifting around the stretches and talking among themselves in a slightly different way, the monitors displaying new numbers, men shouting in an urgent tone. Almost unbeknownst to them, they were holding each other’s arm for support in dire times, the smell of iron sticking to his skin, her composure coming back despite the tears having taken away some of her makeup.

They’re most likely both ugly sights too, but they’re alive, they’ve arrived, and it’ll all be fine, eventually. For now, they step down from the ambulance, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Despite the circumstances, neither of them succumb to their darker thoughts and bruises, not a complaint heard despite Ichihoshi grunting in pain from time to time and her lack of balance and remaining strength to carry the both of them without herself panting.

 Still, Anna is the Empress, this much she knows; and an empress remains strong, no matter the circumstances. She’ll trust Yuuma and bring Ichihoshi to someone who can help tend to his wounds. That’s her mission and she’ll make sure to accomplish.

[softboyuris]

The Globes

Ben Hardy x Reader

Words: 1.7k+

A/N: I have issues. I can’t wait to post this. It’s based on that picture of Ben and Gwilym at the golden globes...if ya know you know

Warnings: Smut who do you think I am, language, not edited

{masterlist}

The lights are dimmed but throbbing and flashing all at the same time. You’ve found yourself in the back corner of a room, the bass of the loud music in the other room pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

You’re not drunk but the few drinks you have had course through your veins and light the butterflies in your stomach as you admire your boyfriend’s ease with the rest of the boys.

Ben’s certainly tipsy, you can tell by the gleam in his eyes. But he’s having a good time, smile shining and bright at his reunion with ‘the band’ and he insists on calling them.

Lucy holds Gwilym’s phone, the photo app open as she takes numerous photos of the man and your boyfriend, getting up close and personal with the award they won earlier in the night.

It’s been like this for a while. Everyone who surrounds you wants a chance to grab a photo with the golden globe and their closest friend, or two. Lucy was kind enough to offer to take the photos and you found yourself assisting her, trying not to get on the other side of the camera.

You’ve always been more of a behind the scenes girl anyway. That’s actually how Ben and you met, on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. He claims he fell in love with you at first glance and you always argue with him about it. Love at first sight isn’t something you believe in, but he loves you now so does it really matter anymore?

Gwilym presses his lips to one side of the globe whilst Ben parts his mouth slightly, eyes closed in utter bliss. You suppress a chuckle. That face is one you’re all too familiar with. One he usually only makes in the bedroom.

Lucy is laughing from behind the phone as Ben opens his eyes, immediately meeting yours. His eyes glisten and his lips pull up into a smirk. You run your tongue over your top lip before pulling your bottom one between your teeth.

“Enjoy that, did you?” He mocks. Gwilym stands up, having a conversation of his own with Lucy about the photo.

“You wish Hardy.” You joke, heat spreading in your face. You make your way over to him, setting down on his lap and crossing your right leg over your left. You wrap your arms around his neck, his protectively wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. “I’m so proud of you babe.”

He smiles in response, pressing a rough kiss to your cheek as everyone starts to settle down, taking their seats or going to grab another drink from the open bar.

Ben jumps into a conversation Joe and Gwilym are having and you’re only half paying attention, resting your head on Ben’s shoulder and placing your left hand on top of Ben’s, which is resting on your knee.

Even though it’s not that late and you haven’t been out for too long, you can feel exhaustion pulling at you. So it takes you a moment too long to feel Ben’s hand slowly making it’s way up your thigh.

You use your hand placed on top of his to push it back down to your knees, giving him a stern look despite the fact that he’s not looking at you, still enraptured by the conversation he’s having.

You wrap your fingers around his, giving a low laugh when Joe makes a jab at Ben. This catches his attention and he looks down at you. “Think that’s funny?”

The playful smile on your face spreads as you bit your lip and nod. He pinches your side, causing you to try and put distance between the two of you. He laughs, squeezing your knee.

A moment later you rest back into him. He taps against your waist to the beat of the song with his fingers. “You look amazing in this dress.” He comments, taking the material between his fingers. “Can’t wait to take it off you.”

You’re not looking at him, intently listening to what Lucy is telling you, when you whisper back, “You too.” You can feel the starting of a boner in his pants and you smile at the thought.

When you’re deep in conversation with Gwilym and Lucy, Ben tries moving his hand up your thigh again. As if on instinct, you push it away, not sparing him a second glance.

Determined, he keeps trying it. He knows it’s bothering you, teasing you and he loves seeing you flustered.

You clear your throat, looking back at Ben with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “What is it darling?”

“Nothing.” His hand slides up your thigh again but he moves it back down before you have the chance to do it yourself.

“Stop Ben.” You say in a low voice, hand placed over his. “We’re in public.” Your chest warms, no doubt tinging the skin a shade of red. You try and keep your voice and actions as steady as possible.

You know he wants you to react. Wants to get something out of you but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction.

At some point he gives up. But every once in a while, you feel his hand move against your leg.

As the night moves on you find yourself getting more and more tired. You end up with your head on Ben’s lap. He’s got his hand placed lightly on your stomach.

You look around until your eyes lock on Ben’s, sleep swimming in pools of green. You give him a tired smile. “Ready to get going love?” He asks and you nod.

When you tries to get you up, you refuse. “Carry me.” He laughs and it rumbles in his chest.

“I am not going to carry you.” You pout, letting out a whine. You hear him suppress a moan and that’s all you need to sit up.

Ben offers you his hand and you stand up next him, wrapping your arm around his waist. “We’re going to head out now lads.”

You say your goodbyes, giving an extra long hug to Joe and Gwilym cause you probably won’t be seeing them for a while. When Lucy comes over to hug you, she whispers in your ear, “Have fun”.

When you pull away, you give her a playful smirk to say shut up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”

And then you’re leaving, an arm wrapped around Ben’s waist and his around your shoulder as you exit the building.

Your hotel isn’t but a block away and soon enough you’re in the confines of your warm hotel room. Rubbing at your arms to try and return some warmth back to them Ben comes over to you.

You’re smiling as he kisses you, forgetting about the chill in your bones as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

The two of you push off your shoes before Ben picks you up, legs wrapping around his torso as he kisses at your neck. He walks over to the bed, sitting down so you’re straddling him.

He kisses down the column of your throat, eliciting a moan from you as you tug lightly on his hair. You can feel his growing erection through his pants and roll your hips into his.

He moans at the action, involuntarily biting down on the skin of shoulder. Your fingers languidly work to undo his buttons as he continues to presses kisses across your collarbone.

You push his shirt off his shoulders and he flings it across the room, hands moving instantly to pull the zipper down at the back of your dress.

Your fingers rack down his toned physique. He shivers beneath your touch and you bend down to kiss his neck, sucking lightly.

He pats your thigh and you stand up, letting your dress fall down your body and pool at your feet. Ben stares, lips parted and eyes glossed over. “You’re not-“

He can’t finish the sentence as his eyes land on your bare chest and you smirk. “No, I’m not.”

Before returning to your previous position, you pull him up and undo his pants, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers.

His cock springs free and he has to lean against you when you wrap your hand around it. Your thumb  skimming over the tip, pre-cum already soaking the head. His cock twitches in your hand and Ben bites back a moan at your teasing.

Ben spins you around, pushing you back onto the plush bed as he climbs over you. A finger runs down your wet slit and you squeeze your eyes shut, head falling into the pillows as you let out a low moan.

His touch is gentle and it drives you crazy. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. You part your lips and his tongue explores your mouth as you feel him lining himself up at you entrance.

He pushes into you slowly until he bottoms out, muttering a fuck under his breath as your walls clench around him.

He sets an agonizingly slow pace savoring the feeling of being buried inside you.

Moans fall past your lips as your fingernails dig into his shoulders and drag down, no doubt leaving marks.

Ben reaches a hand down to tease at your clit. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure that washes over you.

You’re close and you know Ben knows this when his thrusts become a little harder, hitting that place in you that has you panting his name.

You come with a moan that’s swallowed by Ben as he kissed you deeply.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him, your fingernails digging into the sensitive skin by his shoulders and the light sigh that leaves your parted lips and he’s tumbling over the edge, stilling inside you as his head falls to your shoulder.

Your hands soothingly rub at the back on his neck while he gasps in an effort to bring his breathing back to normal. You give his shoulder a kiss as he collapses beside you, sinking into the mattress.

Adjusting your position so you’re laying on your right side facing Ben, you tuck your hand around his torso and rest your head on his chest. “Love you dear.” he whispers, a hand coming to pull you closer to him as sleep consumes both of you.

You mumble a statement of agreement, already dozing off into a peaceful sleep.