#like those low-rise black bottoms got my blood pressure going up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joannasteez · 3 years

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𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.7k

Credits to who made the gif @angelreyesgirl

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @brownsugarcoffy @elektriknachosss @queenbeered

Let me know if you’d like a tag!!!

✞

Your annoyance was simmering, daring to merge into the depths of some irreversible state of agitation. The engine of the classic Dodge Charger RT in your possession had, with incredibly poor timing, began to knock. The unsavory noise resonating into the thick air of the street, stilled heat of the day pushing back the regular ebb and flow of the Santo Padre streets to make way for the obnoxious sound of your engine. Your head was spinning, dazed by the bitter humidity and a steady brew of fear trembling in your fingers to dance just under the surface of your skin. The classic car was given by your father, who'd gotten it from his father, the mass of glistening matte black metal of significant value. If the engine failed, you'd be reduced to tears, wading in the dread of some existential crisis.

Your grandfather had had this car for twenty years, the imprint of his essence etched into the leather seats, and when he became grey and withered, he relinquished it to your father for another fifteen years, till finally, it was yours.

You pulled over just as the last knock sounded, the tremble in your fingers worsening. Your eyes welled, sure to leave a soft red glassiness. The need for air consumed you, the space to walk freely about, a puff of smoke or two maybe.

The pavement was hard under your feet, slam of the door accented by vexation. You picked behind your ear, that nicely rolled spliff safely kept and waiting to be lit. The lighter in your front pocket an easy grab, the flicker of orange a short friendly blaze as it singed the paper. The pull you took was slow, measured, as if to savor this minuscule moment of stillness that lived among others not so still. Not so peaceful. With release, you blew into the air, dried eyes taking in the vast blue of the sky. The never ending expansion blurring your vision as your mind sifted through slim courses of action. If you could just get the car to your garage, then you could figure the battery out on your own, saving time you didn’t have on a mechanics trips you couldn’t afford. All you needed was a—

"Need a boost?"

"Yes". The answer was so quick, it nearly gave you whiplash. The tension in your bones dissipating as you got rid of the sizzling flame around your spliff.

The stranger spun his car from its position just beside yours, the hood of it now facing yours head on before he turned it off and got out.

"Thanks so much for this".

"No problem. It's a nice ride you got, don't really see too many classics rolling around Santo Padre much", he said, eyeing the shine of the paint job. His fingers skimming the hood before he lifted it. "Where'd you get it?"

You step closer to him, a grin stretching your lips at his admiration. The RT was your pride and joy, the height of your ego bursting through to rise above some invisible ceiling whenever folks gave it compliments and stares of approval. "My dad had it for a while, gave it to me when he couldn't keep up with it anymore".

With a nod, he retrieved the cables from his trunk, the wide stretch of his back shifting just under the white fabric of his t-shirt to reveal the curve and ripple of muscles. They traveled down his arms, the bulge of them mixing with defined veins that ran across thick powerful looking fingers. He stretched one of those hands out toward you.

"Ezekiel Reyes".

You considered his hand for a moment, slipping it into your own as your eyes racked him with all the subtlety you could muster. It mustn't have been enough because that innocent friendly smile he gave you had turned into something more knowing. He knew you were checking him out but he didn't mind much. "Y/N".

His thumb skimmed the back of your hand just before letting go, turning his attention to attaching the cables to both cars properly. You minded his movements with the cables closely, triple checking the order in which he connected them with a hawks eye, a concentrated intensity that your dear old Charger RT deserved. Abruptly then, like the quickness of a blink or some single strike of lightning, a thought came to you. "Wait, not Reyes as in Carniceria Reyes?"

"Yeah it's my pops shop",

"Felipe's a real sweet guy. It's not everyday you can look through a deep book collection while the butcher cuts up your dinner". You paused, giving the beauty of his face another glance. "He should've warned me though, never told me both his sons were so handsome".

"You met Angel", he stated, a low dip in his tone. Was it disappointment?

"A couple of weeks ago. He was passing through when I stopped by to pick up somethings. He's a real charmer your brother, but I wouldn't worry. I don't think he's messed up your chances just yet", you flirted.

The assurance produced from him a toothy grin. "I'm not worried".

Silence took ahold of you then, anticipation of the moment charging the pressure in your chest to fall straight to your gut. ‘Please work' you whispered while swinging the door wide to slide into the warm leather of the drivers seat. With the key in the ignition, you twisted your wrist forward, a huff of relief puffing from your chest when the engine roars to life. You close the door quick, that relief bubbling under your skin, your head sticking out the window.

"Thanks again Reyes".

He stepped to the window, those warm endearing eyes taking in the summer glow of your face. His tongue slipped just over the plump flesh of his bottom lip. It was a rosy color, the curving dip of it enticing. He liked the way you said his last name.

"It's no problem".

You put your RT in reverse, backing away from his broad body. "See you around?"

"Maybe", he called.

You speed off, the rev of the engine blending into the ebb and flow of the town once again. Existence dipping into the horizon.

✞✞✞✞✞

You'd saw him again at some hole in the wall you frequented at. The smooth slow tempo of some classic 70s song strumming through the stereo to seep into your ears richly like fresh honey. The atmosphere was subdued, the short clinks of beer bottles and incomprehensible murmurs of frivolous conversations sating the air. It was the perfect place to think, to allow your mind to wander directionless through the never ending abyss of happenings and circumstances that had presented themselves down through the week. You made idle chitchat with the bartender about a laundry list of things of no particular significance, small smiles and light chuckles ringing from you both every now and then.

The night was going good, till you felt a creeping touch just at the low end of your back.

"Let me buy you a drink". The voice was rusted, withered by too much tobacco.

You held up the beer in your hand. "I've got already, I'm good".

This guy was tipsy, blood red creeping into his eyes, body swaying just the slightest bit. "Don't be like that, let me buy you another".

"I said I'm good", you asserted. The coolness of the bottle creating a tingling sensation in your hand. You'd crack it over his head if he touched you again.

"Sorry I'm late, everything alright?", another voice asked, but this one you knew. That deeply textured tone wrapping sweetly around your senses. You tore your irritated gaze set on the almost-drunk guy, softening it as you took Ezekiel in. He looked slightly different, refreshed it seemed, or maybe it was just his barbered hair. A Mayans kutte rested over him, comfortable like a second layer of skin, the black leather accentuating the swell of his muscles. You'd have to figure out later why your eyes diverted to them so often, they were becoming a hindrance to your thinking.

"Everything's good now", you played. Giving him a light peck to the cheek to sell the story. His arm wrapped around you in what appeared to be some reflexive reaction, all natural like he'd done it countless times before. When he realized Ezekiel wasn't leaving, the guy swayed away in true tipsy fashion. Mumbling incoherent things with a griped attitude. Ezekiel took his chair, the proximity of it in regards to yours making the point of his knee knock and slide the smooth plain of your jeans. You watched him take a glance over the bar before he called for a beer.

"Thanks for that".

"No problem", the corner of his lip turning up. "Seems like you've been needing my help a lot lately".

"Don't flatter yourself Reyes, this is just a coincidence".

"Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

Your face screwed up in a show of confusion, but you could guess quickly the reason for the question. "Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

He sipped at his beer. "Outside gets loud sometimes y'know, hectic. It's quiet in here. Good place to think".

"Exactly".

"A little unsafe for you though no?" And there it was.

"Everywhere's unsafe for me Ezekiel, I'm a woman. I mean I couldn't guarantee safety in my own home if I wanted to, but that's just how the world works". You paused, mischief rising in your face. "Don't worry though, I've got a little surprise for anyone who wants to test their luck".

"Oh really".

"Yeah, you men are dangerous out here. I gotta be prepared always".

His brows furrowed. "That's a bit of a big generalization to make".

"But if it's true it's true. Name one thing a man doesn't get dangerous about. Doesn't even have to be rejection", you say, turning to fully face him.

He considers the question for a moment, staring into the color of your eyes as if he'd find the answer in them. "Love".

"A man who loves, whose in love, would do any and everything, no matter how mad the shit is. He'd risk lives, his life even. If that's not dangerous then I don't know what is".

A speck of something lit in the hazel of his eyes. As if your words had brought to the present some memory buried deep within the grave of his soul. What you said hit rather close, closer than expected. "Who is she?"

"Doesn't matter, it's in the past".

"Humor me".

His jaw ticked before he spoke. "Her names Emily, but that shits all just history now. Doesn't matter". He turned the focus from himself. "What about you. Whose going all reckless about you".

"Who says he exist"

"You just did, I never specified who in particular".

So much for playing dumb. "His name is Jason".

"Sounds like an asshole".

You snort, the teasing of a headache coming as you thought on the insufferable man that was Jason. "He is. He's got that weird alpha male thing about him. Has to be in control of everything, doesn't know when to leave well enough alone".

The muted energy of the bar rose between the two of you, each taking quiet sips of your beer. You took notice of the way he surveyed the room from where he sat. That golden gaze sifting through the space and over bodies with quick ease. He was assessing, the gears in his head turning, calculating and considering every and all the possibilities of danger. It reminded you of someone.

"How long were you in for?", you ask.

"How'd you know?"

"You've been on the defensive since you sat down, lookin’ everywhere like someone's gonna up and shank you for no reason. My cousin was the same way when he got out, always looking over his shoulder". You shrugged. "Grew out of it eventually.

His eyes were a bit sullen, as if the truth would scare you. "Eight years".

"He was in for fifteen, and that prison shit is unbelievable, I mean the stories he's told me are crazy". You laugh suddenly at a memory, the resonance of it making him smile in admiration of the sound. "He did this thing for a while when he got home where he'd only have one knife, one fork and one spoon in his kitchen and I swear it was the funniest shit".

The smile falters, his body shifting awkwardly in the bar stool, embarrassed.

"Oh my God Reyes don't tell me you've been doing the same thing".

"In my defense I live alone".

"But what if you have a special guest over, you'd be a sorry ass host", you tease.

"If you wanted to have dinner with me then just say that".

You force away the heat daring to rise in your cheeks. "We have to take a trip to home goods before I even consider a dinner with you”.

You both give hearty laughs, till the vibration in your pocket pulls your focus. With a quick slip of your phone, you realize how fast time had gone on. “Shit I gotta go, but it was real nice seeing you again Ezekiel".

"It was good seeing you too".

You press your hand against his patch, laying a sweet lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Make it home in one piece for me yeah".

"I have to. You might need me again".

"I'm counting on it".

✞✞✞✞✞

You were a joke it seemed, the universe and fate in a gaming mood, as they were using you as a source for their own amusement. Commissioning their faithful associate to do the heavy lifting of masking their scents. The two of you were at the right place, at the right time again, what a damn coincidence. Before the present week, you'd never even seen Ezekiel's face, just learning of his existence a week or so before that, and now you'd seen him twice in a matter of days. This night being the third.

He was surrounded by men who donned the same kutte as him, curious eyes swimming through the sea of bodies as they did in every other setting, till they met yours. He came to you without a second thought, eyeing the tight leather of your pants and how they clung to your thighs. The cropped cut of your vintage top revealing skin he longed to touch. Since the first time he saw you his mind raced with thoughts of your voice, visions of your lips touching his skin again, plaguing his body with the desire to have you.

You stepped away from your group of friends, meeting him half way. "You're just stalking me at this point. Not that I mind".

He clutched the openings of his kutte, that signature grin lighting his face, even with the casting over of the nights darkness. "Something told me I'd see you again. How's your RT?"

"Good, resting in my garage. I've been kinda scary about replacing the battery".

"Why?"

"I'm good with cars don't get me wrong, but something about fucking it up just makes me sick. It's a lot of history behind that car. I don't wanna destroy it".

"Understandable", he nodded. Noting the caution behind your words, the way you spoke with such passion and care about the thing you loved. It was endearing.

The heavy crunch of gravel and sand tore through the beginnings of some silent stare, an undeniable enticement brewing. It was Angel.

"I see you met this asshole already", the older Reyes said.

"I'm not an asshole Angel, just 'cause I turned you down".

He sent a smirk your way. "You didn't turn me down, we made a mutual decision that you couldn't handle me remember?"

"Right. That's exactly how it went".

A call sounded through the dewy air of the night, signifying the start of a race. You started toward a cherry red car.

"That's me", you said. In regards to the call.

Ezekiel was confused, intrigued. "You racing?"

"Yeah, the mustang", you called, strutting over to your 1970's Mustang, adding the slightest dip to your hips. Giving the brothers something to admire, before dropping low into the leather seats.

With a quick twist, the mustang roared to life, the rumble tearing through the air, growling like a fierce rolling thunder through hazy storm clouds. Another car pulled up on your right, the blue electric color of it dazzling, clashing against the fine cherry red of your own to deliver a sweet contrast for the eyes that watched on in excitement. A woman, with a dangled bandana in her hand, set herself between your car and the other, whistles of admiration thrown her way as she gave the summer evening crowd an alluring smile. At the point of her finger you revved your engine, adrenaline pumping through your veins, rushing from your chest to pulse under your skin. The leather feel of the steering wheel was smooth, the grip you held to it steady. With the downward pull of her hands she set both cars to race and you pulled your mustang swift into the night.

The road before you was a muddled darkness, the outward spreading glow of your headlights stabbing it and tearing it apart as your wheels took a glide against the smooth road. At the mark line, you shifted your car into reverse, whipping left, back into drive, soaring back down the road to where the crowd watched and waited. Their rigid bodies of anticipation lit by your headlights, bellowing screams waning under the busting sound of your revving engine. Your mustang tore through the finishing mark, the tingle of victory surging through you.

Pulling back up to the crowd, you rolled your window down, a slim roll of hundreds placed in your hand by the guy who’d set the race up. You showed up to win and now you were done.

Ezekiel and Angel were a little ways away from your car, your voice carrying over to them. "A little party at my place. You and your guys are cool to come".

They both nodded, heading to their bikes when Angel answered after you. "We'll follow you".

Ezekiel swung his leg, resting on the seat of his bike as he buckled the helmet over his head, his fingers gripping the ape hangers, feeling the vibration of the engine as he followed the sleek vibrant red of your car. The afternoon he met you, he'd been turmoiled, plagued with the natural uncertainties that came with being a member of the MC. That new patch stitched into the upper corner of his kutte had bought a sense of pride and belonging he hadn't felt in forever, it gave him drive, fueled his determination, but as the saying goes, all that glitters is not good. Expectation deceived him, the reality of all things made clear. And that reality was shoveling makeshift graves for men whose names he couldn't even remember, but he remembered yours. Committed himself to it like the loving kiss he gave to the jar that held the remnants of his mother every time he stepped a foot into his fathers house.

He found you flustered, out of yourself with anxiety in the dimming light of the afternoon, and then at the bar, body rigid, eyes wired and ready to do your worst to a guy who could barely keep his posture straight, and now he was following behind you, backing his bike toward the sidewalk that laid just in front your home.

Upon entry, the knock of the speakers bled a thumping bass that pulsated through the floors. Your home had seemed to expand with every new corner that came into view, the walls pushing back to make room for the swell and scatter of bodies. Sweet smells mixed with more pungent ones, the hazy aroma of weed slipping past him as he walked further into the house. A hand placed itself at his side. It was you.

"Can I get you a drink? A beer or something".

"Yeah a beer is cool".

You intertwined your fingers with his, leading him to the kitchen where the sound settled some. Beer bottles clinked, the air releasing as you opened them, handing one over to him.

He gave a quiet "thanks" before sipping, eyeing the way your lips wrapped around the top of the bottle to taste the liquid. They looked soft, full and alluring. He redirected his gaze before the temptation overtook him to do something impulsive that had the prospect of unnerving you. His eyes flitted to the side of your face, an illustration about two inches or so etched into your skin. He hadn't noticed it till now.

You could feel him staring as you tasted the beer, the heat of it tingling your skin. "It's a dagger".

He reached forward, thumb skimming over the finely crafted design, it was a professionals work. With the simple touch of his thumb, your nerves were riling, heat rushing to pulse under your skin, he could feel it. It drew him closer, lured him in. "Did it hurt?".

"Like hell, but when you've felt more painful shit, tattoos like this don't really compare". You lifted the hem of your top some, bringing his fingers to feel the raised skin there. Four inches or so worth of a healed gash rested under his considerate touch. "Got it when I spent a year and a half inside. Grand theft", you admitted.

The reasoning behind telling him wasn't sound in the slightest bit, but what was reasoning when Ezekiel had awakened such dormant feelings inside you. With those beautiful, sunny colored eyes and the warm hand caressing your side, you were liable to tell everything. Truths you hated and dark secrets that laid deep inside your past. You reached up to lay a kiss to those pouty lips, the feel of them mesmeric, dazing. Fulfillment burdened itself onto you, finally you'd got a taste of that rosy pink bottom lip, and now your body was calling for more. Begging for it with such longing that you licked your way through his mouth, his tongue acting in kind. It was slow and all consuming, his body pressing you into the counter to surround you.

"Come with me", your voice airy. Breathless. You lead him to the back of the house. Your room first on the right. A gasp left you when your feet left the floor, body in his arms as he laid you against the fresh feel of the sheets. You kicked your shoes off with ease but the discarding of other pieces left behind a sinking feeling, a pressure forming in your chest to push down straight into your gut. He was glorious, the plains of his skin bound by rich thick tanned muscles and long veins. The dilation of his pupils darkened the air around him, physique imposing. This is what you’d wanted, Why were you feeling so anxious all of a sudden?

"What's wrong?"

Your body had raced miles ahead of your mind and now you were trying to catch up. "I don't know, I just... I feel..."

"Nervous".

"It's sounds so stupid when you say it out loud".

"But it's not, It's natural, and I'll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever makes you feel comfortable baby".

He sounded so sure of it, it made you believe him. You laid against the pillows, beckoning him with the outstretch of your fingers. "C'mere".

He obeyed, body atop yours, your legs wrapping loosely around his waist as your head tilted up to give those lips another kiss. It was messy this time, fueled by desperation, your tongues slow to lick as they tasted each other's. The remnants of beer still there. He took hold of your lip, sharp teeth pulling before he kissed his way down to the heated flesh of your neck. There he sucked, bombarding your skin with pressure causing your hips to grind against the coarse fabric of his jeans. The thin cotton layer of your underwear leaving you to erupt with a fresh wave of need. He feathered kisses down your body, pushing your legs up and apart to open yourself for him. A shudder drove down your spine, that soft wide tongue of his licking so close to where you needed him. He peeled away your underwear leaving you bare before him.

"Talk to me baby. What do you need".

You could hear the pulse of your heart in your ears. "Take care of me Ezekiel, make me feel good".

He hummed, loving the airiness of your voice. So drenched with need for him you were. He was methodical despite the desire boiling in his blood threatening to burn through his skin, so he'd settled with toying with you for now. Giving that sweet glistening clit teasing licks. They were measured, the constraint of them existing solely to wreck you, to kill your resolve completely till you were reduced to in-apprehensible words filled with air. The wide-ness of his tongue felt so good, your nails running over the faded part of his head as your hips drew tight circles.

The teasing, the game of it all. He didn't know but you loved it so much. "That feels so good baby, so good", you praised.

Your words were disembodied, wandering in another plain of existence as they rolled off your lips. Your senses were bursting at the seems, and then reborn again to erupt on impact when he sucked against your sensitive nub, lapping your slick salaciously. As if he'd been starved for years, only just finding you now. The line of your spine arched, waist swiveling, grinding to meet his wet tongue. A low "fuck" fell in the air as your felt the rise of your impending release. With taut, rough fingers he hooked at the back of your knees, pushing them into the sheets. The action opened you completely to him, no choice but to surrender to his will and the feel of his lips as he drew you closer to the edge.

"Please, I'm so close", you whimpered. Vision splotchy, thump in your ears intensifying.

He sucked at you again, holding his lips still as your body shook. Quivering against the sheets. He reverted back to soft licks, tasting as you rode the high.

He rose when you settled, eyeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest as he did away with his jeans. "You Ok?"

It took you time to register the question but when you did, you threw a pillow at him. "You just sucked the soul out of me, don't ask me that damn question".

He laughed, watching your eyes dim in bliss. You hadn't noticed, but he'd done away with his underwear as well, the weight of him causing the bed to dip as he came up to where you laid. His thick fingers rolled you over, setting your face to rest against the pillows as your hips raised in the air to rest against the hot flesh of his length, the veined skin laying along your slit. You moaned in anticipation, pushing back against him.

He gripped your cheeks, spreading them to see the quivering flesh of your opening, the flushed pink shinning in the dim light of the room. His tongue slipped against his bottom lip again, reveling in the taste of you as he pushed in. He groaned, and you gave a single fleeting "yes" , the thickness of him giving a delicious stretch, rigid length hot as he pushed and pulled in and out of your depths in a slow manner. Wanting to test the waters same as he did moments ago before building you back up again. The squeeze of you made his chest tight, head swimming with delirium.

"You feel so good mama, so tight around me", he groaned.

His thrust were dizzying as they picked up to set a steady pace, your hips rolling and pushing to take him deeper. To reach that place in you that would force your vision to blur and be replaced by disfigured stars. You reach to lay a finger at your overstimulated bundle of nerves, rubbing the soft slick flesh with lazy pleasuring circles that spurred the knot in your gut to grow. A single tear fell to dampen the pillow, your depths tightening at how full you felt, at how unrelenting the stimulation of his strokes were.

The sharp drive of his hips made you go rigid, the vice like grip you formed around him causing him to fall into his own high. Pace going all slow sloppy to ride out the blissful feeling.

He pulled from you, both your body and his collapsing against the bed. His face formed with satisfaction, a beautiful buzz running through him. "You know what this means right?"

"What", you asked.

"We’ll have to see each other around more often now".

#ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans mc #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes imagine #joannasteez

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

nurse reid ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Hi cutie! I hope you are doing well! I LOVE your writing! Would it be possible for me to request something about reader fainting/almost fainting with Spencer and him taking care of her? Thank you I love you❤️❤️❤️❤️” 1781 words

a/n: three things: i have never fainted before so im guessing here, i kinda hate this so if u hate it too pretend u don’t AND if you saw me already post this two times no u didn’t :)

masterlist

Spencer should’ve known something was wrong when you came in late, rushing into the briefing room with squinted eyes and a lack of bounce in your step. When, after Hotch told the team today was for paperwork meaning everyone was desk bound, you sighed in relief.

You love field work. You love cases. You love being out there, helping people. The last thing you want is a day of writing reports.

He should’ve known when you finally stood, taking a couple of seconds to do so, and you had to blink rapidly to clear your vision of black and white dots.

You stumbled straight into Spencer’s chest, where he stood waiting for you.

“Careful,” He mumbled, one hand holding your elbow and the other resting around your waist. There was a second where he was the only thing holding you up. In normal circumstances, you would’ve blushed and been stuck on the thought of his hands on you for the rest of the day.

This wasn’t a normal day.

You went to respond with something teasing, maybe a joke about him being your knight in shining armour and he’d tell you about the history of the saying, but the feeling of bile rising in your throat stopped you.

You prepared to slump over and throw up on the shoes of your crush. But it never comes.

The sounds around you abruptly dull, vision becoming fuzzy as your brain started feeling distinctly tingly.

Suddenly you were falling.

The world goes black.

+++

You wake up some time later, incredibly confused but comfortable.

The first thing you realise is you’re in Hotch’s office on his couch. You know the smell of his office, you know the smell of Hotch, and it’s one of comfort.

But it’s Spencer sitting next to you. You know the smell of Spencer, too.

When you open your eyes, your suspicions are confirmed – Spencer is sitting directly in front of your face on the floor, cross-legged and speeding through a book. He hears you shift and looks up, eyes wide and brows tensing.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Is the first thing he says.

You huff a laugh, gratefully accepting the water he offers. You gulp it down at an awkward angle, given that you’re lying down and refuse to get up. “What happened?”

“You fainted. You know, fainting occurs when the blood pressure gets too low and the heart is not pumping a normal supply of oxygen to the brain. The medical term for fainting, or passing out, is-“

“Syncope. I know.” You grimace. You lift a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache now forming as well.

Spencer’s brows stay furrowed, deep frown on his face as he looks at you with sympathetic eyes, “Does this happen often?”

He keeps his voice low, rumbling through his chest and sounding very nice in your ears. “Not that often. Just.. sometimes, when I forget to eat or drink for a while. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” He lifts a hand, placing it against your forehead with a special tenderness that makes your heart ache. You watch him the entire time, watching the cogs turning in his head as he assess you. “But my theory was correct. When was the last time you ate?”

You avoid eye contact.

He sighs.

“Y/N…”

You pout. Maybe, if you look cute enough, he won’t lecture you.

He doesn’t get the chance (although all his brain is really saying is you cute you cute you cute), because Penelope gingerly pushes the office door open, bringing in a strong stream of light (you only now notice how dim the room is), holding a bag full of who-knows-what that she hands to Spencer.

“Here,” She says, then looks at you, “How you feeling, sweetness?”

“I’ll survive.” You smile, small and weak.

She nods with a pitiful “Good” and quietly shuts the door behind her.

You go to ask what presents Penelope has brought, but Spencer sticks a hand in the bag, ruffling around for a second, before bringing out a pack of sugar-drowned sweets you know are from the vending machine.

He opens the pack for you and grabs one, dangling it above your open mouth.

“For your low blood sugar.”

It’s one of those rainbow strands, covered entirely in sugar from top to bottom. It sizzles on your tongue, a sourness that makes your jaw flinch, but you happily accept a second from Spencer.

Your body feels exhausted, but your arms are still fully mobile. Spencer doesn’t need to feed you.

You’re sure he knows this. (He does)

You won’t say anything, though. This is way too sweet and kind.

(Spencer’s enjoying it too)

The whole pack is gone in minutes. He sneaks a few, as expected, because Spencer is a child with a sugar addiction at heart.

“What now?” You sigh.

“How do you feel?”

He looks at you so tenderly you feel like the most important person on the planet. The way he’s gazing at you, all concerned and sympathetic, makes you want to kiss him. Right on the lips. And the rest of his face, too.

He interrupts before you even open your mouth, “Don’t answer that. Well, answer it, but I’m disregarding anything you say because you’re spending the rest of the day in here where I can look after you.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Oh? On who’s orders?”

“Mine. I am a Doctor, after all,”

“I can’t stay here all day, Spence. It was just a little faint-“

“A little faint?! Y/N, although syncope is a common problem, if you go on about your day like nothing is wrong you could faint again and get hurt. Like, badly hurt.” He pauses, “And I can’t let that happen. So I’m going to take care of you and watch over you to ensure nothing happens.”

“That’s sweet, Spence, really, but-“

“No buts. I’m your Doctor.”

“You’re not a medical Doctor!”

“Then I’m your nurse.”

You smirk. He instantly regrets saying that.

“You’re my nurse?” You ask.

“I take it back. I’m your doctor.”

“If you really want to make me feel better, I’m pretty sure I have an old sexy nurse costume if you wanna wear it.”

“No. I do not want to wear that. Thank you.”

You pout again.

“Just relax, Y/N. At least for a little while.”

You concede, deciding some rest won’t hurt, nodding and shuffling your body to settle back into the couch. You close your eyes and Spencer goes back to his book – you’re a little surprised he’s staying with you, but then you assume he’ll stay until you fall asleep and come back to check on you later.

Some time passes where sleep evades you.

“Will you read to me, Spence?” You open one eye and look at him, where he’s biting his lip as his eyes furiously scan the pages.

His head snaps up, caught off guard, “Huh?”

“Will you read to me? I can’t relax.”

“Of-of course.” He looks back at the book in his lap, “The book I’m reading is in Russian, though.”

You hum, “That’s okay. I just like your voice.”

You don’t see it, but he blushes profusely, smothering a wide grin that he knows would make him look like a lovesick puppy.

Right before you fall asleep, you mumble something. If Spencer wasn’t sat so close, he would’ve missed it.

He’s glad he didn’t.

“You’re adorable.”

For the first time in his life, Spencer wants to squeal.

+++

Turns out you sleep the entire work day away. You were more exhausted and drained than you let on – the amount of case files everyone had to work through made you feel tremendously guilty when you imagined Hotch and JJ spending yet another late night at the office, significant others and kids eagerly waiting for them at home, so you took on way more work than you could handle, exerting yourself by staying up late, skipping meals - all things you’d kill your team for doing.

And you paid for it by fainting bright and early on a Friday morning.

Spencer watches you, gripping his satchel that sits across his body, as you slowly gather your belongings together. You’ve only just woken up, eyes bleary and movements sluggish.

He gathers all his courage and says, “I think I should take you home.”

You blink at him. “Why?”

He curses internally. He was hoping, in your disoriented state, you’d comply and definitely not question him.

Please don’t make him tell you he loves and cares for you so much and the idea of you going home alone after all this makes him anxious and he refuses to let you repeat what you’ve been doing to yourself.

He clears his throat, “Well, most of the time fainting is harmless, but a small percentage of people faint due to serious medical conditions, such as an irregular heartbeat. I’m just. I think it’d be safer if I stayed with you.”

You look at him, really look at him, and he tries to hide how he bites his lip and how his eyes flicker away for a moment.

He’s hiding something.

You turn your body towards him, suspicion clear on your face. Spencer swallows. You’ve got that look – brows raised, eyes narrowed and pursed lips.

He likes your lips. His eyes linger there.

You notice, of course you do, and you decide to take a leap.

“Alright. If you consider wearing the nurse outfit I’ll let you come home with me.”

Spencer guffaws.

“And,” You hold a finger up, “We can stop at your favourite restaurant on the way back and spend the night relaxing together.”

Spencer hehs, “Kinda sounds like a date to me.”

“Do you want it to be?”

Spencer nods without thinking. Of course he wants to date you. Then he blushes and tries to backtrack, “I mean-“

“I’d like it to be a date.” You smile. “It can be a date, if you want,”

Your confidence begins to waiver when he takes a couple seconds to respond. But Spencer can’t resist the grin that takes over, the elation he feels when he sees you’ve taken initiative and it’s quite possible you want him the same way he wants you.

He can’t help but ask, “This isn’t the fainting talking, right?”

You roll your eyes and move towards him, picking up his hand and interlocking your fingers.

“Trust me when I say,” You promise, making sure you look him directly in the eyes, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

When you look at him like that, Spencer thinks he might end up in that nurse outfit you mentioned.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #if u take anything from this fic #please let it be spencer in a nurse outfit

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senorarelojes · 3 years

Text

Ficlet: Violator (1/1)

Summary: This prompt from @songsofgayanddevotion and @raphinas: "basically, dave goes to have a prostate exam and alans the doctor and basically dave comes over the table while alan is checking him LMAOOOOO" Rating: Mature

When Dave opened the door, he thought he’d gotten the wrong office at first. “Oh, sorry,” he said hesitantly, hovering in the doorway. At Dr. Miller’s desk was an immensely good-looking young man who was scanning a clipboard, his eyebrows raised inquiringly at Dave. “Erm, I think I’ve got the wrong office--” Dave began.

“Are you David Gahan?” the man said pleasantly before rising to his feet. He was a little taller than Dave, six feet of trim muscle in neatly pressed grey trousers and a black Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a world away from the casual polo tees and slacks that Dr. Miller favoured. “You’re here for the prostate check?”

Dave only belatedly realised his mouth was hanging open when the bloke’s eyebrows inched higher, waiting for Dave’s response. “Um, yeah, yeah that’s right,” he said hurriedly, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “Sorry, I was expecting Dr. Dan Miller--”

“He’s down with a very bad flu,” the bloke said, before offering his hand. He had the longest, most elegant fingers Dave had ever seen, and Dave forced himself not to think about where those fingers would be later. “I’m Dr. Alan Wilder, I’m the locum taking over his patients for today.”

“Oh. Um. Cool.” Dave shook his hand a little awkwardly, trying not to notice the nice firm grip of Dr. Wilder’s handshake. “I’m Dave Gahan.”

Dr. Wilder’s mouth curled up a little in amusement. It somehow made him even more attractive; Dave was fucking doomed. “Yes, I know,” Dr. Wilder said, tilting the clipboard at Dave. “Do have a seat, Mr. Gahan.”

“Dave!” he blurted out, before realising that Dr. Wilder was staring at him. “I mean, Dave is fine. No need for Mr. Gahan.”

“Sure.” Dr. Wilder just smiled at him, and Dave decided this must be divine punishment for all the grief he’d put his mother through as a wayward teenager. “So I read through your files, and I understand you told Dr. Miller that you had concerns about prostate cancer.”

Dave nodded, feeling a bit more settled back on familiar territory. “Yeah, my uncle was diagnosed with it last month. And I don’t know the medical history of my dad - my bio dad - so I thought I should get it checked on.”

Dr. Wilder simply nodded without judgement. “You’re in your 30s now, so you’re not in the typical at-risk group for prostate cancer. Still, whenever family history is involved, it is understandable if you have concerns.”

Dave let out a long breath, relieved that Dr. Wilder seemed to be taking him seriously for now. Besides, Dr. Wilder had a very calm, relaxing manner about him that felt infectious, something about his voice that was pleasant and soothing. Dave would pay money to hear this bloke read audiobooks.

Then again, Dave would also pay to hear and see the very handsome Dr. Wilder do a whole manner of other things.

“So what’s going to happen now are two things,” Dr. Wilder explained. “First, we will conduct a Digital Rectal Exam, which would be a physical examination by a trained physician to see if you have an enlarged prostate. Then we will also do a blood test to check your prostate-specific antigen levels.”

“Right.” Dave desperately tried to ignore the heat suffusing his face. He wasn’t going to blush in front of a medical professional because of a fucking prostate exam. “Yup, I get that.”

Here, Dr. Wilder hesitated. “It’s important that you feel comfortable with the doctor conducting the digital rectal exam,” he said quietly. “If you would rather have Dr. Miller do the test with you, we can reschedule--”

“No I want you,” Dave said a little too quickly. His face felt like it was on fire as Dr. Wilder’s smile curled up in amusement again. “I mean-- fuck, sorry. I meant I don’t mind you doing it.”

“If you’re sure.” Dr. Wilder was already pulling the drawer open and taking out a box of latex gloves, so hell yes, Dave was fucking sure.

Dave tried not to look too eager as he unbuttoned his jeans and shed them, going to where Dr. Wilder was telling him to stand. “Could you take off your briefs, then bend over the examination bed?” Dr. Wilder politely asked him, and Dave had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t respond that he would do anything Dr. Wilder asked him to that involved beds and getting naked. Slipping off his briefs and folding them on top of his jeans in a neat pile, Dave shivered a little at the cold air hitting his exposed bottom.

Getting into position as he leaned against the bed, Dave heard the snap of Dr. Wilder’s gloves, along with his footsteps coming closer. “Relax,” Dr. Wilder said, a cool hand resting on Dave’s bum. “I’m a doctor.”

Dave could only nod in response, not trusting himself to speak. Already he could smell Dr. Wilder’s clean scent, a mix of aftershave and a faint whiff of tobacco. Dave closed his eyes, thinking about Dr. Wilder’s hands on his body, touching the most intimate of places that only his ex-wives had breached. He could also feel the heat emanating off Dr. Wilder’s body behind him, and Dave couldn’t help thinking about what the man would feel like in bed, spooning behind Dave and fucking him from behind, that sly refined mouth pressing kisses to Dave’s neck.

To Dave’s horror, his dick started taking a very keen interest in Dr. Wilder’s nearness as well as the lurid fantasies running through Dave’s head. “It’s fine,” Dr. Wilder reassured him, his voice dropping to that low and relaxing tone again. “Don’t worry about it, it happens to patients sometimes.”

Dave was thankful that Dr. Wilder was both acknowledging his erection while not being weird about it or put off. “I don’t, I’m sorry--”

“Relax, Dave.” The silky way Dr. Wilder said his name made Dave jerk a little, his cock starting to leak over the sterile paper sheets on the examination bed.

Now Dave could hear the squirting of lube from a pump bottle, then Dr. Wilder slicking his fingers. “Spread your legs a little wider,” Dr. Wilder said, and maybe it was Dave’s imagination but the doctor’s voice sounded a little rougher than normal. “Mmm yes, that’s good. Open up for me.”

Dave bit back a moan as he felt Dr. Wilder’s finger slipping inside him, slowly at first so as to help him get used to the intrusion. “Okay?” Dr. Wilder asked, his voice so gentle that Dave fought the temptation to turn around and kiss the living daylights out of him.

“Yeah.” Dave kept his breaths slow and easy, biting down on his forearm as Dr. Wilder slid in a second finger, in and out of Dave in an easy glide. “Keep-keep going.”

Dr. Wilder didn’t say anything, but he pressed a comforting hand on the small of Dave’s back while his fingers inside Dave were searching around for his prostate. This time Dave couldn’t hold back the moan when Dr. Wilder finally found it, pressing on it gently and making Dave leak embarrassing amounts of pre-come all over the covered bed.

“All right?” Dr. Wilder was definitely breathing faster now, even though his voice was still even, but Dave was too busy rolling his hips back, greedily demanding for more pressure from those talented fingers, too far gone with pleasure to care about propriety and inappropriate doctor-patient boundaries and getting sued by the hospital. All he cared about was the insanely hot man behind him with his fingers sending Dave through waves and waves of toe-curling pleasure, on the brink of one of the most intense orgasms he would ever experience.

“Dave--” Dr. Wilder sounded so breathless and stunned that when his fingers crooked against Dave’s prostate again, Dave came and came with a resounding yell, spurting all over the bed and his own bare feet, his legs shaking so hard that they almost couldn’t hold him up. Dave was gasping for air, trying to recover from the brain-melting orgasm as his head thunked down on the bed.

Oh fuck, Dave thought, remembering that Dr. Wilder definitely did not sign up to finger fuck one of his patients into oblivion. Shakily standing upright, Dave turned around with a litany of apologies at the ready. “Fucking hell, I’m so sorry--”

Dr. Wilder was staring at him, his cheeks pink with pleasure and his eyes brighter than stars. His gaze dropped down to Dave’s mouth, and Dave suddenly realised - with a white-hot pleasure - that he had nothing to be embarrassed about because the doctor was licking his lips while staring at Dave’s dripping cock.

“I, uhh--” Dr. Wilder quickly took off his gloves before handing Dave a box of tissues. “I will give you a while to clean up, Mr. Gahan. Someone else will be along shortly to help you. Sorry about that.”

“What do you-- wait!” Dave called out as Dr. Wilder left the examination room, but it was too late.

***

After Dave had finished cleaning up and putting on his jeans again, a nurse came in and apologetically told him that Dr. Wilder had been called to assist with an emergency, so Dr. Miller would follow up with Dave next week about his test results. “Emergency my arse,” Dave grumbled under his breath as the nurse led him out. Outside, Dr Wilder was nowhere to be seen.

Then Dave had an idea.

He only had to wait outside the hospital for about 15 minutes before he spotted Dr. Wilder heading to the designated smoking area, looking a bit shaken as he dug around for his cigarettes. When Dave walked up to him, Wilder avoided his eyes. “If you have any complaints, you can lodge them with the hospital,” he said in a tired voice.

Dave gaped at him. “Wh- wait, why would I want to lodge a complaint?” he said in amazement. “I came to fuckin’ apologise to you, mate.”

“Oh.” Dr. Wilder took a deep drag of his cigarette, a bit confused. “So you’re not mad I took advantage of you?”

Dave stepped a little closer, taking Dr. Wilder’s cigarette from him for his own drag. “As long as you’re not mad I came all over your table.”

They smoked in silence for a while, at least until one of the nurses popped her head out of the back door and called Dr. Wilder’s name, saying his next patient was here. Dr. Wilder stubbed out the cigarette, looking carefully at Dave.

“They warned us about this in pre-med, you know,” Dr. Wilder said with a little smile. “Being attracted to one of your patients. Never happened to me until today.”

Dave’s grin at him was so wide that it was hurting his cheeks a little. “Well, when Dan Miller comes back, I won’t be your patient anymore, will I?”

Dr. Wilder’s smile widened in response. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then it’s a date.” Dave grabbed his arm, taking the pen from his pocket and writing his number on Dr. Wilder’s arm. “So you don’t have to nick my mobile from my personal data.”

“Because that would be wrong.” Dr. Wilder smirked at him before heading back inside, leaving Dave laughing at the smoking area.

#dalan #fanfic #saph's and raphinas' prompt #Mo I included the Family Guy reference here as a nod to you

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junquisite · 3 years

Text

Mine

WORD COUNT : 2.6K

GENRE : Vampire! OC X Human! Junhee, Suggestive/Smut (Implicit)

WARNING : Well first of all, blood, blood drinking, Bootlicking/Bootkissing, mention of violence.

REQUEST : “Can i request a Vampire! OC X human Junhee smut”

NOTE : Thank you for this anon, i literally dropped all the fics i was workiong on for this and i have absolutely NO regret. It wasn’t an explicit smut but it’s.. there. feel free to send me more requests anon!

"The villagers must be feeling generous, they sent 4 boys this time." The countess said from the top of the stair and within a blink, she was standing in front of them.

"Let's see.." she whispered as she assessed the 4 men, the first one catching her eyes by how agitated he was but she passed it for nerves as she crossed him.

The last one though, she stopped to take a whiff and then turn to him. He smelled delicious.

"How old are you?" She asked as she pulled his face up with her finger. Black hair, high cheekbones, sharp features - he was beautiful. Then she looked down - slightly dirty common clothes - a peasant boy.

"22." He answered and she raised an eyebrow at him. Most families are not willing to let their kids go so early when they could work and earn them some money.

Her mind was brought back when she heard the heartbeat rising of the first guy and then felt a slight sting in her shoulder.

She felt the boy in front of her stiffen up and her loud sigh resounded in the room. She turned around to stare down the shaking man with his hand raised as she pulled out the knife that he plunged in her back.

"It was not the villagers, they wouldn't have sent a measly man to kill me. This was personal." She said and Byeongkwan came forward.

"It was not the villagers ma'am. Do you want me to throw him out? Kill him?" He said calmly and she stifled a chuckle when she felt the other three boys shivering in fear.

"You killed my brother!" The man in front of her screamed, ready to fight her with bare hands when she waved her hand and in a second, he was at her feet, Byeongkwan's foot on his back keeping him down there.

"I did no such thing. I paid full price for him, your parents chose to do that. He had a peaceful death but.." she leaned down to his level and gave him a cold smile.

"You're not going to."

She got up, eyes trained on the last guy who caught her attention.

"Byeongkwan, get that boy in my room for tonight. And this-" she said as she kicked the first man with her boots, his groan resonating in the room, "-you can do whatever you like."

Byeongkwan bowed at her as he picked the guy up, his eyes gleaming red as he looked at his prey.

"I'll be right back." And in a woosh, the three new boys found themselves alone at the bottom of the stairs of the huge Countess's mansion.

In a world ruled by Vampires, having a certain Vampire ruler for your village was a blessing. The ruler would stop any rogue vampire from harming their village, keeping it safe in return for a few persons once a month. But they won't do that for free, they'll pay a heavy compensation to the family for the loss incurred by the loss of a member.

Junhee's village had the Countess who kept them safe. And the money was what brought him here. His sister was ill, she needed treatment from the capital which was too expensive for his family. For the heavy compensation, he was ready to sacrifice himself for his sister's life.

After Byeongkwan had returned from wherever he took that man, he led them all in separate rooms they were to live in for whatever time period they will be here. The rooms were lavish, the mattress so soft Junhee could not hold in the sigh that left his lips. He thought If he was going to die soon, maybe that same night, Atleast it'll be in a place like this and with a full stomach as he looked at the trays of food for him.

After he had filled his stomach to the point of not being able to move, a knock was heard and Byeongkwan entered with a few garments in his hand.

"Please take a shower and wear this. The countess will like you to be in her room in an hour. I'll be here to pick you up a few minutes before an hour." And he left.

A while later, Junhee found himself buttoning up the silk shirt he was brought and the loose pants. A knock resounded again and Byeongkwan stepped in to stare at him.

"You look nice, the countess would like it." He said as he stepped closer only to unbutton a few buttons of his shirt as he smiled. “She’ll like this more.” he added with a smug smoke and Junhee nodded, not like he had any other option.

He was led to the countess’s room and Byeongkwan left him there. A few minutes later the countess entered the room from a door on the other side, water dripping down her neck and changing the colour of the silk robe she was wearing, a contrast from the suit she was wearing when he first saw her. Junhee found himself standing up involuntarily when she waved at him, “Keep sitting, I’’l be there in a moment.” she said as she seated herself in front of her vanity and he hesitantly sat back on the bed.

“You’re awfully young to be here, what's your story?” she asked and Junhee wanted to lie, tell her he wanted to be here but he felt like lying was not his best option. “I needed the money.”

“Why?”

“My sister needs medical help in the city.” he said, choosing to look at the ground as he heard her humming.

“And what is your name?”

“Jun. Junhee.” he said and heard her getting up.

“Junhee~” she said it in a musical voice and he looked up when he felt her finger lifting his face up.

“That's a pretty name for a pretty face.” she said as she smiled and in a split second, she was in his lap. Her legs on both sides of his, she pulled back a little to appreciate the quickly turning red face of his.

“Aren't you cute, turning all red like this.” she cooed as she bent down to nose around his jawline, enjoying the shudder that she felt from him and the quick intake of air.

Her hands were quick to slip from his neck to his shoulders as the unbuttoned shirt gave her the chance to feel his soft skin. She swiftly unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and discarded it away, her mouth attached to his neck before the shirt even touched the floor and Junhee jerked to grab her waist.

“Oh no no baby.” she said as she pulled back, one of her hands going in his hair to pull his head back as he whimpered, her other hand grabbing his hand on his waist and pulling both of them behind his back one by one.

“You don't get to touch me until I say so, you got it?” she asked and he nodded, the blush still on his face as he looked sideways.

She leaned down to brush his ear with her lips as she whispered a soft “good boy” and a moan escaped his lips.

She chuckled as her lips caught his lobe, slightly pulling it for him to moan again and she smiled as she pulled away, fully sitting in his lap now and grinding slowly, low moans leaving Junhee’s mouth like music to her ear.

“Someone is enjoying it.” she whispered as she felt him hardening under his pants with her head buried in his neck as she felt his hands coming to her waist and stopping midway.

After marking his neck and chest up to her satisfaction she pulled up to look at his face - he looked positively debauched. His red face, a slight sheen of sweat glistening his skin, blown pupils and lips slightly open as he panted, she couldn't hold herself as she leaned in to capture his lips with hers, a gasp left his lips that she swallowed.

Her hands grasped his own as she placed his hand on her waist now, pulling away from kissing him only when she felt like he needed to breathe. As he panted and she stared at him, she bent down to bite his lower lip, pulling at it as one of her hands went into his hair, gripping them slightly harder as she felt him buckle up against her. Her sharp teeth managed to draw blood slightly which she licked and pulled back.

“You taste different. Enough foreplaying now.” and with that warning out and about, Junhee felt her lips on his neck, his grip tightening on her waist as her teeth finally pierced skin and the pain registered. Her hand came up to clamp it on his mouth as he almost yelled, but went back to his hair when his screams turned to moans. It was painful, yes, but the pain and pleasure were taking over and with her hand in his hair, pulling them every now and then and the delicious pressure of her grinding on him was bringing him so close to pleasure.

He found himself chanting “please dont stop!” but alas, as all good things come to an end, as his vision had slightly started getting blur from the edges, she pulled back.

“I don't want you slipping out on me okay?” she said as she held his face by his chin, his eyes going in and out of focus as he nodded at her and she smirked.

Her other hand softly gripped his neck as it went down, pressing on the bite marks she left every now and then as it finally reached the waistband of his pants. Her hand slipped past it and he thrusted in her hands as she gripped his cock.

“I still have to help you out with this.”

Junhee woke up feeling a slight dizziness and found himself wrapped in the red bedsheets of the countess, and nothing else.

He found a folded pair of clothes and was just thinking of what to do when the door opened and Byeongkwan walked in.

“You can use the bathroom and those are some fresh clothes. Please come down for breakfast.” and he bowed and left. Junhee stared at the door Byeongkwan had pointed to and remembered how the countess had walked out from there and with blood rushing to his cheeks, he went in to freshen up.

About half an hour later he found himself alone at the dining table and munching on breakfast, feeling conflicted about whether he was happy being alive or not. What if the countess had decided she didn't want him and sent him back, without any money? He refused to think about yesterday lest he turned red here under the careful gaze of the Countess's right hand man, Byeongkwan.

When he was finished, Byeongkwan came to give him a hand to stand up which he considered refusing but took anyway.

“There's a letter in your room for you from your family.” he told him and when Junhee was about to go to his room, he was stopped.

“Your luggage has been moved to the room beside the countess on her floor. That’ll be your room from now on.” and Junhee nodded as he took the stairs, eager to hear from his family.

“One more thing” he heard Byeongkwan say and he turned around to see the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Her study is the room on the other side of your room. She’ll be there right now if you’ll need her.”

Confused, Junhee nodded and left, only to stop at the entryway of the room he was shifted to now. If he thought the room he was allotted last night was lavish, this was double, no triple it grandeur.

His appreciation of the room was cut short when he saw the letter on the table and he grabbed it.

Dear Junhee,

Me and your mother couldn't be more thankful to have a brave son like you. When this morning the countess’s guards borght the other two men who had gone with you,we were scared. And when only her guard came to us, it scared us more thinking either you died or they were sending you back too.

We had not expected to hear that the countess had arranged for the treatment of your sister. Yes! The countess had sent her regards and a carriage with a man of hers to escort us and get your sister treated.

We wished you could have come too but we are going to believe on countess’s words that we could see you when we’ll be back. We will be the first family to see our son after sending them to the countess and we are so proud of you Junhee.

Keep her happy and take care of yourself.

Your father.

For a few seconds Junhee could not believe what his father had written to him. The countess, not only let him live but also helped his family? And promised them that they can meet him when they'll be back? And the other boys were sent back? Well that explained why he was alone at the breakfast table but still.

Why Byeongkwan had told him where she was made sense as he quickly went to the adjacent room and knocked, waiting with his bated breath for her voice to say “come in.”

And then he was blessed by the vision of her in her glory - her suit and boots and hair prim and proper - exuding grace and the power she holds, especially on him, and she looked up at him.

“Yes?” she asked and he felt his face turning red.

“I got a letter from my family.” he said and she nodded, getting back to the document she had in front of him.

“Thank you so much for this. I can never repay you for this.” he said and she looked up at him again.

“Oh but you can.” he saw her signalling at him to come closer so he walked, behind the desk, in front of her as she faced him.

She pulled his shirt so his face was in front of her and she nosed along his neck and he shuddered.

Leaving a small bite near the puncture wounds from yesterday which made him gasp, she pulled away to smile at him, her eyes glowing red.

“Be mine.”

Almost as if his legs lost their strength, he fell on his knees in front of her and she looked at him, amusement clear on her face.

He wasn't sure if he was still drunk on her from yesterday or if it was the gratitude surging in his veins, he found himself bending down to her boots as he placed a soft kiss on them, a sign that he was at her mercy.

“I’ll be at your service as long as you'll need me.”

In the blink of an eye he found himself with his back on the floor of her study with her on top of him, not even one hair out of place as she looked down at him. The sound of fabric tearing brought him out of his daze as he looked at the shreds of whatever was left of the shirt barely covering him any more as she threw the rest away.

“It was in the way.” she murmured as she mouthed along his collarbones, already purple and red from yesterday and then her mouth reached the wound from yesterday.

“Mine.” she whispered as her teeth sunk in his flesh again, but surprisingly it was less painful this time as he gripped her waist.

#a.c.e #a.c.e smut #junhee smut #park junhee smut #park junhee scenarios #junhee #a.c.e jun #a.c.e junhee #a.c.e scenario #a.c.e scenarios #a.c.e imagine #a.c.e imagines #ACEWRITERS

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amazedforjjk · 4 years

Text

Escape 4- Ot7

The gif is not mine!

Characters: Lion!Namjoon, Jaguar!Jin, Black panther!Yoongi, Cheetah!Hoseok, Snow Leopard!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, cougar!Jungkook, Serval!Reader

Summary: In a world where Hybrid protection laws are gradually strengthening, many organisations are still advocating for the complete extermination of your species. What happens when you find yourself and 7 other predatory hybrids in a truck en route to a hybrid slaughter facility?

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warning: Kidnapping, serious abuse, blood and mention of death. Strong language.

A.N: Chapter 4 is here!!! I hope you like it!

Word count: 3.7K

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

“Long time no see, kitty. Remember me?”

If fear had paralyzed you when the man entered the room, the use of the nickname brought all the anger you felt towards him hurling back. Of course you remember him. He’s the one that caught you that night, the one who punched you unconscious. You remember his stench of cheap cigarettes. The smell of the gunpowder when he grabbed your hair. His nasal voice when he shouted after you. He is the one that caused your downfall.

A growl ripples through your throat, and beside you Taehyung finally stops thrashing around to look at you.

“Fuck you”, you spit at the approaching man.

“Huh, kitty’s got bite”, he smirks, leaning to grab your jaw, looking at your face. You feel his unkempt nails scratch your sensitive skin, making you grimace in disgust. He seems to mistake your disgust for pain however.

“Does your face still hurt sweetheart? From when I caught you?”

“Don’t touch her”

The tiger’s low scowl makes your abductor shift his attention to your left. You take advantage of this and yank your head from his grip. He casts you a glance before talking to Taehyung.

“Can’t you see this is a private discussion? Didn’t you get enough already?” he says, making the tiger growl once again. He turns to you.

“It seems that you didn’t waste time sweetie. Already got a little boyfriend to protect you huh, you whore?”

He straightens and slowly makes his way to Taehyung. The tiger looks at him aggressively as the man stands directly in front of him. He looks at you with a smirk before punching the hybrid in the gut. You don’t have the time to register what’s happening before he strikes him again square in the jaw. The tiger spits blood but doesn’t lose the look of defiance on his face. You grit your teeth and look away as Taehyung takes another hit.

“Stop it” you utter, still not looking at the scene. The man doesn’t seem to hear you however and continues on punching Taehyung.

“Stop it!”

The desperate shout is enough to stop the man in his tracks and he turns to look at you. In front of him, Taehyung is disheveled and panting, blood running from his cheekbones to his neck. His head is lolling on the side, his eyes unfocused and you let out a sob at the sight of him. Beside him you hear Jimin starting to stir awake. Thankfully the man has not yet noticed and you try to maintain his focus on you.

“What do you want?”, you ask. You need to stall. Give the other males next to you enough time to recover or figure out the situation. And maybe, give time for Jin and the rest to find the three of you. The man scoffs at your question, and starts to pace in the room, caressing his stubble. It’s only now that you notice the guards posted at the door. The two men are wearing black clothes, and the lump on their side leads you to believe they are armed. They look absently at the scene playing before them, their focus kept on the three of you and their boss.

“What I want..?” He scratches angrily at his neck, forming a red mark on his skin. He chuckles darkly and turns to face you. His eyes are bloodshot and wide in madness. “You don’t know how much trouble you’re causing me, kitty.”

His hands are trembling as he lights a cigarette with a match. He takes a deep puff and exhales loudly, smoke escaping from his dry lips. He points the cigarette at you aggressively and grits his teeth, anger overtaking him.

“You just had to escape, did you? And in MY sector as well? They delayed my payment because of that, you bitch” He is shaking in anger, taking another puff of the cigarette to calm himself and passing anxiously his other hand in his dirty hair.

“You couldn’t just behave, like your brother and sister?” At their mention, your head shoots up instantly to stare at him. Something in you breaks. You are in a state of shock, unable to process the revelation. You become livid, mouth opening but not a single word passes your lips. No, it can’t be... Tears threaten to spill from your eyes but you don’t dare give him that satisfaction.

Next to you, Taehyung utters a “Fuck” under his breath and you feel his concerned gaze on you, but your eyes stay trained on the disgusting excuse of a man before you.

“Don’t look at me with those wide eyes, bitch. At least they went without causing a fuss. This is all your fault. You’re gonna pay for that”, he spits, throwing the cigarette butt in your direction in a flick of his fingers. He makes his way to you and places his hands on the backrest of your chair, his arms on either side of your face. You move your head back as much as you can but you can feel his hot breath on your cheeks. He reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and you can’t help the fear rising inside you.

“Where were you going?”

You shake your head, biting at your bottom lip to restrain your sobs. Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, and you refuse to look him in the eye.

He looks left to Taehyung and Jimin, now fully awake, the both of them staring helplessly at you. Jimin’s eyes are wide open in fear and Taehyung’s hands are fidgeting, trying to break out of his bounds.

“You feeling shy, kitty?”, he looks back at you, his face still too close for comfort.

You look at him scared and let out a whimper, but it’s too late. He lifts you out of the chair and throws you on the ground. You yelp in pain when your shoulder comes in contact with the ground and you can hear the two other hybrids shouting at the man, but he pays no mind, simply pulling at your hair to make you stand up. You wince but comply and he leads you out of the room, leaving the screaming men behind you.

Your heart is pounding in your ears and your vision is blurred by tears streaming down your cheeks. You pass by the guards and one opens the door for you. The man’s hand leaves your hair to apply a vice like pressure on your arm, stopping you to talk to the men stationed at the door.

“Knock them out, they’re making too much noise.”

“Why not kill them now, boss?” You look at the one who talked, panic coursing through your veins.

“Too much evidence, that’s why there are slaughterhouses, you moron” the man holding you hisses.

He pushes you out of the room through a dark corridor running alongside the big room you just exited. There, you can hear other men in the direction opposite to where you are guided. There are no windows there and you continue walking to a door. He opens it and you discover a small room, and you can’t help but feel this might be the last place you ever see.

He shoves you on the ground and you fall on your side as he closes the door. The room is lit by a cold white light, and is almost empty, a chair and empty bottles laying about. He looks at you in disdain before kicking you in your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. You cough, trying to bring back air into your lungs, and he takes the chair to sit on it, looking down at you.

“So.. Are you gonna start talking now that your boyfriends aren’t here to protect you?” he says with a smirk, clearly reveling in your despair. You try to push yourself on your shoulder to look at him but he stands to kick you again, this time in the face. You feel blood dripping from your nose, mixing with your tears. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth and a small wail escapes you.

You suddenly stop sobbing at the sound of a blade being drawn, ears flickering in the direction of the noise. You lift your head alarmed and see him playing with a small pocket knife. You try to wiggle away from him but that only makes him chuckle. He places his legs on either of your sides and grabs your jaw, turning you on your back. You try to kick around but you can’t seem to ever reach him, and you shake your head, trying to evade his grip.

“Shhh…” he coos, and he brings the blade to your cheeks. You stop thrashing at once, eyes trained on the knife. You sob once more as he runs the point of the blade from your cheek down your neck to the side of your hip, the cold metal pressed against your skin in a warning. Once he reaches the soft skin of your stomach, he presses the knife in your flesh and you scream. You feel blood dripping from your wound as he steps back to take you in. Despite the pain, you remark with irony that his hands aren’t shaking anymore. The son of a bitch is enjoying himself.

“Talk”

Only a whimper escapes your lips. He sighs and starts carving a line in the soft flesh of your side. You wail once more as the pain burns your side. The time seems to stretch and these few seconds feel like eternity. The pain is clouding your mind and you can only scream. You struggle fruitlessly against your bounds. Blood is trickling down your hip, forming a puddle next to your hands.

He starts to carve another line in your flesh, this time on the other side. The pain is so intense that black dots danse in front of your eyes. You’re on the verge of consciousness and you can feel your mind starting to slip out of it when he is interrupted by a loud voice outside the room. You hear him barking words at the voice, obviously miffed to be disrupted when he was having so much fun.

You’re too out of it to make out any words. The tension in your muscles ultimately eases when the blade is lifted off of your body. He gets up to open the door, and you are left lying in a puddle of your own blood, barely conscious. It’s only after a few minutes that the pain has cleared enough from your brain to realize that you are finally alone.

Thanks to the adrenaline surging in your veins, you painfully manage to sit up. The door is closed but you can still hear voices booming outside, and you decide to take advantage of the apparent chaos to try and escape. Your gaze settles on an empty bottle beside you and you turn your back to it, trying to catch it. You swing it at the ground once you finally grab it.

Fortunately, the bottle breaks easily and you use a big shard of glass to cut through the rope. You struggle to free your hands. The voices outside are becoming louder now, and you hear shouting, urging you to cut faster. The binds ultimately come undone and you caress the damaged skin of your wrists, tainted in a purple-ish shade that makes you grit your teeth.

You keep the shard in your hand to use it as a weapon and try to stand, staggering when your movements wake the pain in your side. Your shirt is sticking to your side because of the blood when you slowly make your way to the door. The task of putting a foot in front of the other declares to be more difficult than expected in your current state and you almost slump down to the ground more than once. It takes you a minute to finally reach the door and you have to lean against the frame for a little while to chase the dizziness overtaking your senses.

You shakingly open the door, and the corridor before you seems empty. Though it is difficult for you to smell anything over the overwhelming metallic scent of blood - and not only yours- you still manage to recognize the scents of the five other hybrids accompanying you. Tears of relief cascade from the corners of your eyes. Shoulder against the cold wall in order to keep your balance, you make your way towards the door. The shouts have stopped by now and you can hear muffled voices from the room you first woke up in. You can’t make out the words but you recognize Jungkook and Taehyung’s voices. They are talking animatedly as you slowly move towards the door.

The metallic squeal is enough to turn all heads to you as you push the door. The hybrids before you fall silent as they take in your disheveled state, eyes wide. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy from crying, blood is sticking to your shirt and you can’t stand without leaning heavily on the wall next to you. Your wrists are bruised and dried blood is staining your upper lip. Despite that, you smile weakly, locking eyes with each of them, making a point of avoiding to look at the ground where three men are laying. You don’t fail to notice the pools of blood on the ground next to the bodies but you don’t seem to care. One of them looks fairly similar to the man torturing you earlier, and you can’t say that his current state saddens you.

Your smile falters when you see Taehyung and Jimin. They don’t look fresh either, each of them having endured a serious beating when you left them. Worry gnaws at your stomach, eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you okay?”, you ask as you make your way to them, and lightheadedness stops you in your tracks.

Namjoon is the first to spring into action, running to your side as you nearly lose balance, offering his hands for support. From up close, you discern bruises on the lion’s cheeks, and his knuckles are bloodied. A wave of dizziness hits you again and your head falls on his chest. You feel his arms tighten around your shoulders and you close your eyes momentarily, feeling suddenly very tired, the adrenaline leaving to make room for fatigue.

“We shouldn’t stay here”, Jin says. Your ears twitch in his direction but you can’t seem to open your eyes anymore, exhaustion making your eyelids droopy.

Namjoon suddenly picks you up from your feet to carry you bridal style but you don’t have enough energy to complain, only placing your arms around his neck to help him lift you, and you fall asleep as the eight of you exit the barn.

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

When you wake up, the moon is shining on your face through the leaves of a tall tree. You sit up with difficulty, your side a painful reminder of the past hours. The chilly air caresses your face, making you shudder. You remove the hoodie covering you to pull it on your bandaged body. The white gauze is covering your wounds nicely, and you smell the potent scent of antiseptic. They must have tended to my wounds when I was out of it, you conclude feeling a smile tug at your lips. Disoriented, you look around to find a familiar face. The tree you are under stands lonely, separating two fields. In the distance you can see what you believe is the farm you were taken to.

You peel your eyes from the facility to the seven boys forming a circle a few feet from you, all of them wearing the warm clothes Granny left in the backpacks. Speaking of backpacks, you notice yours to be lying next to you along with the first aid kit she must have provided for you.

You silently approach the boys discussing calmly amidst each other and you settle cross legged between Jungkook and Taehyung. The latter carefully picks your hand in his, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. You smile tiredly at him, not minding one bit the unexpected act of affection.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his worry barely hidden behind his small smile.

“Better now”, you reply before glancing at the men around you. All of them are smiling at you, though you can see exhaustion written plainly on their features. Your eyes fall on Yoongi in front of you. His pale skin reflects in the moonlight, making him look breathtaking. You had not realised before how the men around you are all absolutely gorgeous, and you have to repress the blush creeping on your skin. You don’t really know whether to be thankful or jealous, all of them so good looking despite the bruises covering their skin.

“How did you find us?”, you inquire, breaking the comfortable silence that fell while you were ogling the hybrids next to you.

“Well, they didn’t take you very far from where they took you. We simply followed the road til we picked up your scents”, the panther explains matter-of-factly. You hum in understanding and Jungkook is the next to talk.

“We barged in, taking them by surprise. They weren’t a lot, so it went well for us. Well at least, most of us” he adds, casting a playful look at Hope. The elder grimaces in embarrassment, trying to hide his black eye with his left hand and you gently smack the youngest’s arm for making fun of him. Jungkook grins at you, holding the point of the impact in fake hurt. Hoseok thanks you with a wink, and he grins when you look away from him, cheeks burning. Thankfully, he seems to be the only one to have noticed your reaction.

“They were not expecting us to come so soon, it seems”, Namjoon adds, and you glance his way, relieved when the cheetah hybrid’s gaze lifts off you to land on the lion. The tall hybrid is tending at his knuckles, adding Hello-Kitty band aids to cover the small wounds. He doesn’t seem to notice your amused glare. No one makes a comment at the unusual sight and you conclude they already must have made fun of him before your arrival.

“We arrived in a small room and took out three guards. Then we went to the room where Taehyung and Jimin were. They were getting beaten up and the humans didn’t notice us arriving”, the lion hybrid continues. At his words you subconsciously squeeze the tiger’s hand, and he rubs circles in your skin once more, as if to assure you he is fine.

The fact that the rescue went so well isn’t that surprising to you. Your captors didn’t seem to be the brightest if you are honest, and they weren’t nearly enough to have a chance to win against the horde of hybrids, even armed.

“One of them managed to escape though and went to get another guy. Probably the one that was with you”, Jin says, and he peers down at your stomach. At his words you cover your side with your available arm and the mood seems to fall. All of them must have seen your stomach, seen the marks that are carved into you, marks you’ll have to bear, and god only knows for how long.

“What happened in there?”, Jin tentatively asks, eyes filled with worry. You grimace, not yet ready to dwell on the events of the afternoon. This time, it’s Taehyung who delicately squeezes your hand for comfort, and you sigh. Jungkook places his hand on the small of your back in encouragement, rubbing up and down.

“I- He tried to make me talk..” you start, and you feel Jungkook’s hand tense. “I think he enjoyed hurting us”, you add quietly, suddenly very focused on the blade of grass right in front of you. The silence is suffocating, and you rake your brain, trying to find another subject. Your savior is Hoseok, and he too seems eager to change topics.

“Are you hungry?”, he inquires, offering you a bag of beef jerky, and you earnestly thank him. You start to munch on the dried pieces of meat and the mood alleviates quickly. Jungkook and Jin start to banter about whatever, and you are more than happy to escape the heavy atmosphere. Chatter erupts between Jimin and Teahyung, and you could swear these two are joined at the hip. Yoongi starts applying a soothing cream on Hoseok’s eyes, while Namjoon makes fun of his poor fighting skills. You find yourself to be the spectator in front of this domestic scene and you can’t repress the warm smile tugging at your lips.

Is this how Home feels like?

You feel strangely at peace around these men, happiness filling your entire being. You wouldn’t mind more evenings like these, you think as your eyelids start to feel heavy. And it’s with a contented smile plastered on your face that you begin to fall asleep. You yawn, your free hand turned into a sweater paw coming in front of your mouth. You chase the sleepiness induced tears at the corners of your eyes and you start to lean on Jungkook, eyes slowly closing.

He only casts a glance your way before chuckling silently. You look so cute right there, falling asleep on him, cheeks reddened by the cold air. Your hair falls before your eyes and he takes a strand of it to pull it back behind your ears. You are too far gone to react, only nestling your face into his arm. Why is his heart beating faster, he asks himself.

“We should probably go to sleep”, Jimin says, look affectionately at you.

Jin picks you up from Jungkook and carries you back under the tree, the rest of the boys following him after having gathered their stuff. He sets you down, your head resting on your backpack and he settles next to you. Jimin lays beside you on your other side, careful not to touch your side. When all the hybrids have all settled, you finally let yourself slip into a deep slumber.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

💜

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day (Yoongi)

Summary: You have a very special idea for this Valentine’s Day, focused completely on your boyfriend Yoongi who comes home to an unexpected surprise.

Warnings: SMUT, almost completely. Mainly, there will be: swearing, erotic body touching, erotic massage, handjob, fingering (barely), unprotected sex (be very careful IRL!)

Word Count: 2923

Yoongi sighed heavily as he walked into his house, frustrated he couldn’t finish the song like he wanted to and with a sore neck and back from sitting at his chair for way too long. Although it was a comfortable chair, his sitting position wasn’t the best for his back but he just couldn’t change it.

Taking off his coat and hanging it next to the entrance’s door, Yoongi noticed your coat already there and smiled. You never told him you were coming over. He could really use your warm and soft body to fall asleep next to this night.

“Y/N? Babydoll, you should have told me you-”

Yoongi’s words got caught in his throat the moment that he walked through his bedroom’s door.

There you were, bare foot and clothed in only a set of vibrant red lingerie, silk and lace covering your beautiful bouncy breasts and soft abundant ass, lush tummy and pillowy thighs bare, a black almost sheer kimono around your shoulders and arms. You had your hair done, minimal make-up around your expecting eyes with shiny red lips spread in a coy smile that made his heart thumb heavily inside his chest.

The bed was made with silk sheets, scented candles on the bedside tables although still unlit, curtains closed and light switch turned to low. Then his heart fell to his feet and his blood ran cold.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, hun” you seductively said, leaning your head to the side.

“Shit…” Yoongi cursed under his breath, panic starting to rise. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I just-”

“I know you forgot, Yoongi, it’s fine” you immediately pacified him, coming close and placing reassuring hands up and down his arms. “You’ve been very busy, so I totally forgive you. But I wanted to do something for you anyway, so… Go take a quick shower and meet me here, alright?”

You smiled so brightly, obviously excited by whatever you had planned, not a hint of resentment in your voice or expression. The only reason Yoongi didn’t kiss you silly right then and there was because of how guilty he felt.

Following your guidance, Yoongi went into the main bathroom adjacent to the bedroom to take a quick shower. You were almost jumping in place, opening a drawer in the bedside table and getting everything ready.

“Hun, pick a scent! Chamomile, ginger or lavender?” you ask, loud enough for him to hear you from the bathroom over the falling hot water.

“Hum, lavender, I guess?” he picked, albeit confused.

“Great, thanks!”

You started lightening up the candles, a scent of pine and vanilla filling the air, something that would go great with the lavender oil Yoongi had picked. You were just rearranging your air into an up-do, to make it more practical for what you were about to do, when your boyfriend came back from the steaming bathroom, clad in his usual pajamas and doing the buttons of his shirt. You chuckled and moved to him, stopping his fingers with your own, undoing his work.

“No, no, you won’t be needing this” you told him.

“Babydoll, what are you planning?” he curiously asked, watching as you removed his shirt from his body. You kissed the skin in between his clavicles and goosebumps tickled the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Go to bed and lay facing down, please” you asked nicely, smiling innocently up at him.

“When did you even have the time to prepare all this?” Yoongi inquired as he climbed to the center of the bed, looking around at all the ambience you had set up.

“I asked for today to be my day off. Had the whole day to do it” you explained, climbing to the bed next to him, on your knees, a hand on his bare back encouraging him to lay completely down on the soft covers, head rested on the fluffy pillow. “You won’t need these either.”

You hook your fingers on the elastic of his pajama trousers and he allows you to pull them down his legs, leaving him only with his boxers.

“Y/N, what are we doing exactly?”

You kneel beside his torso and bring the bottle of lavender oil to the bed, squirting a bit in your hands and rubbing them together.

“You won’t be doing nothing. All you have to do is relax while I give you a massage, babe.”

Your fingers start at the top of his neck, exactly where he had been feeling sore, and he sighs with relief at the motion and pressure of your soft hands on his muscles.

“Massage?” he repeats, closing his eyes as your hands continued.

“Yeah. I’ve been taking a short course for the last month to learn about it. How does it feel?”

“Fucking great” he confesses, sighing again as your hands move to his tense shoulders. “You did that for me?”

“Yes, I wanted to do something special for this Valentine’s Day. Since you always treat me so nicely and take me out to such expensive places, I wanted to reciprocate the feeling this year” you shared, smiling at his hum of appreciation.

“I still can’t believe I forgot. I’m so sorry, babydoll” he presses, still feeling guilty.

You lean down to kiss the exposed cheek turned to you.

“It’s okay, hun. Just tell me if I’m using too much or too little force, okay? I never practiced on a real person before” you enlightened.

“Better not. Don’t wanna share these hands” he voiced, hazily.

You chuckle and keep working on the tight muscles of his pale back. The angle wasn’t right, so you swung one of your heavy legs around his waist and straddled him from behind, sitting comfortably at the top of his thighs as you continued moving your fingers and hands. You heard him hum in pleasure, so you assumed he didn’t mind.

“Tell me if I hurt you at any point, okay?” you ask of him.

“You can never hurt me, baby.”

You smiled at his confidence in you and kept going with renewed vigor. Then you remembered something that was missing.

“Oh, right, the music! I have some calming music to play in the background!”

Just as you were about to stand up, Yoongi caught one of your bulky legs around his waist with his hand to keep you in place. You looked confused at him, half of his face covered by the pillow, the one eye you could see half-closed as he looked at you.

“Don’t need it. I prefer the silence or the sound of your voice.”

“Really?” you smiled brightly. Resuming your place, you leaned down and kissed the oil covered skin you were massaging on his back. “Well then, whatever my hun says.”

Moving your hands to his arms, pumping more oil every once in a while in your hands, you soothed and kissed every tense muscle Yoongi had on his lean small body, trying to make up for months and months of stress and overwork. He seemed to be enjoying it immensely, eyes closed and humming with satisfaction every once in a while.

Skidding down, you started his bottom half by his feet, rubbing the hardened skin and pressing on all the right spots that had Yoongi sigh with relief. You then started his legs, hands moving up and down his calves, relaxing them slowly. When you got to the back of his slim thighs, the muscles you worked so hard to relax tensed up a bit and you bit your tongue smugly, knowing exactly why.

Fingers brushing the skin teasingly, you brushed the underside of his butt cheeks and he shuddered slightly under you. You massaged those too for a few moments, leaning down to kiss down his spine as you did so.

“Time to flip, hun” you informed him, giving him space in the bed to turn.

He grunted but conceded and rolled to his back, stomach up this time. Your top teeth caught your bottom lip as you saw the tent in his boxers, a result of your exploring hands on his body. Although you were trying to relax him, one particular muscle seemed to have other ideas.

Ignoring the heavy look Yoongi was giving you from his almost closed lidded eyes, you started massaging from his feet up this time, taking longer than you probably needed. When your fingers started working on his thighs, more precisely his inner thighs, you couldn’t help but notice the twitch of his shaft inside the fabric seemed to happen exactly at the same time your fingers brushed up his skin. You almost giggled, but tried to keep it to yourself.

Instead of straddling his waist as you moved to start working on his torso, you kept your legs on either side of one of his legs, the position a bit more uncomfortable but worth it for his reaction. When your hands ran from his tense shoulders all the way down to his abdomen, brushing his nipples in the process, he hissed and squirmed under you, opening his dark eyes finally and staring frustrated at you.

“Y/N…” there was a warning behind his tone of voice.

“Yes, hun? Am I doing something wrong?” you bashfully ask, wide innocent eyes as you kept massaging the muscles around his ribcage.

“Enough teasing” he demanded from behind almost closed teeth.

Your Cheshire cat smile grew as you leaned down, face just inches from his, a mischievous look behind your eyes.

“Maybe there was a bit of miscommunication? I just took a course to learn simple massages, not happy ending ones” you elaborated, voice darker with a seductive tone as you whispered.

Yoongi chuckled, the air hitting the skin of your face.

“I’m sure you can handle it” he guaranteed.

In response, you kept your eyes on him as your hands pulled his boxers down, the erection springing free and hitting his stomach as you threw the underwear away. Licking your lips at the flushed and throbbing length, you palmed his thighs up and down a few more times, digits barely brushing the hairs at the base, making him growl in frustration. Your hands circled around in his stomach until, finally, you rubbed them against the underside of his cock and he moaned at the feeling.

Your hands kept interchanging between massaging parts of his body, his thighs, his stomach, his pecks and his arms, and his needy length, just circling your fingers around the base and rubbing up, circling the leaking head, before leaving him be or massaging his ball sack, almost making him choke each time. You could tell Yoongi was growing more and more frustrated, but it was such a rare occasion to leave him like this that you just couldn’t pass on it. Taking pity on him, seeing his hands clutching the sheets in fists, you circled your hand tighter around him and pumped him with determination this time, willing to let him have the sweet relief he so yearned for. It was the only way to terminate the massage with his muscles completely relaxed anyway.

However, just as he was growing hotter and hotter in your hands, surely not about to last much longer, one hand of his stopped you from keep going.

“W-Wait, stop” he asked.

“Why, hun? You’ll feel completely relaxed once I finish you off.” You were confused.

“I know, but I want you to cum too. Get on top of me” he guided, hands reaching for your plushy hands and trying to pull you to where he wanted.

“Babe, this is about making you feel good, my present for you. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine” you assured him, trying to keep his hands back.

He then sat up and caught your lips suddenly for a vigorous deep kiss, mouth slanting with yours and tongue plundering past your soft lips, coaxing yours to reciprocate avidly. It was the kiss he wanted to give you from the moment he saw you, all sensually dolled up and waiting for him.

Before you knew it, he had unzipped your bra and had a hand running down your panties, fingers slipping in between your folds and making you moan into his lips at the tremor of pleasure that cursed through your spine.

“Liar” he whispered against your lips, parting his from yours only an inch as he raised his hand, showing how wet it was from your dripping entrance. “You’re almost begging to cum too.”

“I’ve been touching you for over an hour now, hun. Of course I’m aroused. But I wanna make this Valentine’s Day all about you” you clarified, taking his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean. The erection pressing against your doughy thigh jolted at the sight.

“Then, obey my requests. I want you to ride me, babydoll” Yoongi insisted.

Smiling, you placed a hand at the center of his chest and pulled him back to lay down on the bed, moving your legs so you were straddling him again.

“Very well. But keep laying down and let me do all the work. You just relax and enjoy, babe” you proposed, pressing your moist hot center against his hard member, rubbing slightly against it. Yoongi fisted the sheets again as he threw his head back against the pillows and sucked in a breath.

“Fuck, yes” he readily agreed.

Making sure to heavily coat him, even as he was already heavily coated in the oils you’ve been using, you couldn’t lie to yourself, you really wanted him. Raising your heavy hips just enough to position his red tip against your throbbing entrance, you then allowed your heavy weight to slowly come down and have him filling you all the way to the base.

Although your basic instinct was to start moving up and down at God’s speed, you controlled yourself and instead moved your hips in lazy circles, wailing at the way you felt him stretching your insides from all angles. You then moved your hands up and down his chest and thin arms, trying to keep massaging them.

“Fuck, Y/N, I need you to move, babydoll” Yoongi complained, lust blown small eyes barely open.

Nodding, you steadied yourself with both hands on his chest and started to bounce up and down his length. There was heat pooling in your belly threatening to break the dam at any minute, your whole body strung with tension as your breath grew unstable and mind started going blank. He always went so deep in this position, your hips barely lifting anymore from his as he was rubbing delectably a spot inside and your clit brushed against his pelvis with each rebound, enhancing the urge to tip over the edge.

Yoongi, in the meantime, was in absolute heaven. He had the urge to lift his hips to meet yours, but there was really no need with you moving so perfectly like that. There was heat rising off your body, your velvet walls snugging so tightly against his cock as you moved on top of him. Your whole body jiggled on top of him, tits bouncing and ripples of the aftermath of each snap of your bodies joining together dancing across your soft malleable flesh. You looked so sexy like that, mouth slightly parted with moans escaping you, eyes closed as you ran after your release, that he could barely keep himself together.

You then stopped the upward movement and gyrated your hips once more, making Yoongi snap.

“Shit, Y/N, I can’t!”

Just like that he grappled the fluffy flesh of your hips to keep you in place as he began thrusting up at an almost inhuman speed, ramming himself into your clenching heat with as much force as he could.

“Ahh! Yoongiii…!” You moan loud as all you can do is steady yourself against him.

The out of your control friction of his movements end you in a matter of seconds, a hoarse cry leaving the depths of your throat as something inside of you was overflowing and dissolving your bones into orgasmic pleasure. Your whole nerves caught on fire and you felt like you were bursting into electric warmth, muscles spasming around him before giving in completely, making you fall on top of him.

Yoongi felt your walls spasming and clamming down on him as you came, making the fierce ache that was growing inside of him explode as he clenched his teeth, body jolting and burning when he jerked violently at the razor sharp pleasure he felt as he erupted inside of you and filled you with his essence. The blissed out relief, alongside your massages, had his body about as relaxed as it could get, going completely limp underneath you.

“Sorry, hun, give me a sec and I’ll move” you apologize when your brain comes to.

Yet, when you look up at your boyfriend’s face, you see him sleeping soundly, even snoring quietly. You smile proudly, happy you got him this relaxed even though he was in a very busy moment with his work. Dropping a kiss on his shoulder, you try to move away from him, but find that he turns to his side in search of your warmth, his arms wrapping around your waist and dragging him close to your body.

“Okay, babe. Not going anywhere.”

You cuddle comfortably against his chest and pull the comforter and sheets over your naked bodies, not caring to change them or go wash until the next day. And you could always buy more candles after the others burned out.

#bts chubby reader #bts chubby!reader #valentine's day #special for valentine's day #chubbyreader #chubby reader #bts #bts imagine #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts suga #bts smut #yoongi smut #kpop smut

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Can’t Go Back

Category: Angst, Tragedy

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Vigilante! Izuku

The silver moon hung low in the cloudy night sky, just a sliver of white curved down into a thin Cheshire cat smile. Its weak beams failed to penetrate the dark shadows draped over the city. Puddles of deep black coated the quiet buildings and sleeping homesteads like fleece blankets, providing plenty of cover for the unsavoury and haunted souls that wandered the backstreets on lonely nights such as these. It was in these orbs of blackness that Izuku lurked, stalking his prey with all the grace and menace of an attuned predator.

His emerald eyes focused on the crouched form perched at the back door of the jewelry shop. Metal glinted in the sparse lowlight, reflecting off the thin wire the masked man was using to pick the pair of sturdy locks while Izuku hunched in the darkness, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The thief spared every few moments to glance around and critically inspect his surroundings; it was obviously not his first heist. Of course, it didn’t matter much to Izuku whether he was experienced or not; all criminals could kill, whether it was their first steal or their hundredth.

The villain exclaimed a small triumphed “Yes!” as the lock clicked and the back door creaked open. The thief pocketed his thievery tools as he stood up. When he placed the flat of his hand against the door to push it open, that was when Izuku zoomed out of the darkness, green lightning crackling across his body as the energy of his Quirk blasted through his being.

The villain exclaimed in both in shock and anger as Izuku slammed his cheek against the rough brick wall of the exterior building. Izuku’s elbow jammed down against his cervical vertebrae, placing significant pressure on his trachea from the backside. The villain spluttered and wheezed as his shaking fingers fumbled for the knife in his back jean pocket. He then released an agonized scream as Izuku’s steel-plated boots slammed into it, crushing every bone in his hand against the jewelry store wall. His cries faded into pathetic whimpers and snivels, rising in pitch only when the green-haired young man pressed his bruised and bleeding hand further into the gritty brick.

“It’s a bit late to be out shopping, don’tcha think?” Izuku purred in the villain’s ear. The steel edge of malice poisoned his almost childishly innocent tone of voice. The burglar whined loudly as Izuku pressed his full body weight into his back, imprinting the groove lines of the brick into his skin. “I’ve got three questions for you,” Izuku growled, his voice dropping an octave. Terrified, the thief nodded emphatically to show he was listening. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?”

The villain hesitated to answer, worrying his bloodied bottom lip between his teeth. He then bit through the sensitive, plush skin as Izuku slammed the metal-reinforced toe of his boot into the back of his knee, forcing his left leg to crumple when his patella shattered between the force of Izuku’s kick smashing it against the hard brick. A series of loud howls and yowls began to spill from his lips, morphing into gurgles as the red blood streamed down his throat, and Izuku hurriedly smothered his mouth into the palm of his white leather glove.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Izuku cajoled in mock sweetness. “You just answer my questions honestly, and we’ll come to an agreement, yeah? Now, let’s try this again,” he tutted as the burglar stared up at him through wide, watery eyes. “Have you ever committed a home invasion?” When Izuku removed his hand from his mouth, the villain spat out clots of thick red blood.

“Yes! Yes! I have,” he admitted with a low, mournful groan. Izuku clicked his tongue against his front teeth, making the villain flinch.

“All right. Next question- have you ever killed anyone?”

“Nah, nah, man! I ain’t like that, I ain’t like that!” The thief began to blabber desperately. “Look, I stole some TVs and some stereos, and pilfered some jewelry every now ‘n then, but I ain’t never killed nobody!” It was evident that his promises fell on deaf, disbelieving ears, so he switched tactics. “Look man, I ain’t a saint, I know that. I got kids, man! I gotta provide, and I know it ain’t right, but I love my kids, man! I ain’t never killed nobody, man, I don’t my kids’ daddy to be a murderer- a thief, but not a killer, man!”

Through lidded eyes, Izuku studied the man’s own tearful ones. His irises swam with clear desperation and fright, but so far, the green-haired boy could detect no lie. Izuku clicked his tongue again, but this time in dissatisfaction that it seemed he had yet again failed to find the man he’d been hunting for six months. The man mistook it as an inadequate answer to his question, for he began to sob loudly and plead more profusely.

“Shut up!” Izuku barked, the villain’s warbling moans irritating him. The villain immediately clamped his mouth shut, bottom lip wobbling. “I have one more question for you. December 23rd, last year, the Red Pine Apartment complex- know anything about it?” Confusion glazed the villain’s eyes as he struggled to search his memory for any useful information for Izuku. Izuku raised an eyebrow when lucidity suddenly flooded his dark irises, and the vigilante wondered if perhaps he’d finally stumbled on a helpful lead.

“O-oh, man, you talkin’ about that lady that got murdered in the home invasion, right? By that serial burglar? Look, man, that was real tragic, she seemed like a real nice lady; I-I-I read about it in the paper, y’see,” he clarified quickly as Izuku began to take an express interest in his ramblings. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know nothin’ about it, I swear on my kids’ lives-”

“Don’t do that,” Izuku scolded harshly. The burglar gulped and nodded in understanding before continuing, his voice soft with what seemed to be genuine sympathy.

“Look, guy, I get it. That lady was clearly someone to ya. I wish I knew anything that would help you find who did that to her, honest, man. But I’m just a petty thief scrappin’ a livin’ the best I know how. I don’t know nothin’ about no murder. Honest, man.” With a heavy sigh, Izuku’s crushing grip on the man relaxed ever-so-slightly, enough for the thief to breath properly and release a shaky sigh. Izuku was loathed to admit it, but he really did just seem to be a petty thief, not the cold-blooded murderer that he was searching for. Izuku sucked his bottom lip between his lip as he began to mumble nonsensically to himself about his next course of action in his search for his killer. After a few minutes of listening to his whispered rambling, the thief piped up hopefully, “S-so can I go, man?”

“Absolutely not. You’re still a criminal,” Izuku huffed and promptly slammed the man’s forehead against the wall. The air sang with a sickening crack as blood burst against the brick and hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the front of the man’s skull. The villain immediately fell limp, bending back against Izuku, who just stepped aside and allowed him to slam onto his back against the alley floor. Izuku pulled his newest prepaid cell phone, preparing to dial 9-1-1 to call for the police to pick up the unconscious man. Just as his thumb hovered over the “9” button, his instincts began buzzing with a fervor as they sensed an incoming wave of fury, bloodlust, and betrayal.

Izuku ignited his Quirk and zoomed down to the end of the alley without even turning to see who was approaching, because he knew. In the space his emerald-haired head had just occupied, explosions bloomed as a hulky, yowling figure leapt down from the nearby rooftop, hands sparking with multiple blasts. Izuku rolled to land and flipped around, crouching down low as he glared daggers at the muscled ash-blond young man hunching over the burglar currently puddling blood against the dirty cobblestone. With the angle of the sparse moonlight, Izuku could see the white puffs of steamy breath as the boy exhaled a savage growl.

“Deku.”

The clouds parted, spilling the gleaming white light down to earth. The beams coalesced against the newcomer’s form. They glinted off the vermillion eyes burning within the jagged black mask framing his angular face, highlighted the bright orange bands of his hero suit, and reflected off the smooth metal framing the gigantic gauntlets enclosing his clenched fists. Izuku slowly stood up, flexing his fingers as bright green lightning skittered over his gloves.

“Kacchan,” Izuku replied coolly, deigning to shoot a disdainful sneer at his former friend and classmate. Katsuki snarled and lunged forward threateningly, clearly angered by the fact that Izuku still referred to him by the childhood nickname. Katsuki’s muscles tensed from head-to-toe as he refrained from blasting across the alleyway to pummel Izuku with everything he had. Izuku tilted his head to the side with a click of his tongue. “Where’s the entourage? It’s unusual to see you without Eijirou or Mina,” he questioned casually, tone laced with scathing scorn.

“Shut up! Stop with the small talk! I left those dumbasses behind because they’ll just get in the way!” Katsuki yelled, hand cutting through the humid night air as his hand flung to the side in a furious gesture. His other fist clenched so tightly that it trembled. “Six months… We’ve been doing this for six months,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotions as his eyes flooded with misery and desperation. Izuku’s eyes widened slightly as a completely shattered expression overtook Katsuki’s usually hard, unforgiving features. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this. Come back with me, Deku, All Might can protect you-”

“I don’t need anyone’s protection!” Izuku shouted. As he slammed his metal-plated boot into the ground, fissures spiderwebbed underneath him, making his body shift as the ground under his feet heaved and distorted. Katsuki scowled viciously at Izuku’s open display of hostility, that scowl so deep that the pink of his gums shone against the whites of his teeth. Izuku’s body quaked as he balled up his fists tight, red streams coursing over his scarred skin as the green sparks jumped all over his body. “I can’t go back. I can’t stop until I know-”

“You’re mom’s dead, okay?!” As Katsuki’s voice cracked like a whip in the otherwise quiet night air, a cold flush seeped into Izuku’s being, freezing him down to his bones. Katsuki stared imploringly at him, stepping over the still-bleeding petty thief to hold out both his arms placatingly. Though Izuku’s instincts yowled at him to surge forward and clock him in the jaw, he reigned himself in, but only just. “She’s dead,” Katsuki whispered in a ghost of a breath.

Izuku wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the fading moonlight or not, but he swore he saw sympathetic tears glinting in the corners of Katsuki’s eyes. “I know you wanna know who did that to her. I know you’re angry. God, Deku, I understand anger better than anyone!” he said, splaying his hand out over his heart as his voice rose with mounting emotion. “But fuck, dude, do you think she’d want this? For you to turn against everything you’ve ever known, everything you’ve ever wanted, and just go on a vengeance spree? Don’t be fucking hypocrite, dude! You remember what happened to Four-Eyes!”

The memory flooded Izuku’s mouth with bitter acid. He’s right. You had to stop Iida that time. Now here’s Kacchan, trying to keep you from making the same mistakes- Izuku quickly squashed the notion, hardening his heart once more before he slipped away from his path. I can’t stop until I know. I can’t stop until the person that did that- His breath hitched in his throat with the coming of horrid visions, flashes of arcs of blood splashed over the walls and floors, of overturned furniture and broken glass, of ingredients for a home-cooked meal still laid out on the kitchen counter, of his mother’s body lying prone staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes-

“Shut up! Shut up, Kacchan!” Izuku screamed and grabbed the side of his head to wrench his eyes shut. “You don’t know! You don’t know what it’s like! You didn’t see what that monster did to her!” His eyes shot open, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared thunderously at the recently graduated hero. A sob choked him, making him struggle to release his words. “I should’ve been there. If I’d only gotten there ten minutes sooner, she’d still be here and that bastard would be rotting in a prison cell where he belongs!” The sparks increased in intensity as he flexed his arms hard, leather groaning as they were strained under his increasingly tight grip. “I can’t stop now, Kacchan. Not now.”

“Fucking listen to yourself!” Katsuki pressed, taking another step forward. Izuku reacted this time by jerking forward, priming himself should the blond dare to push closer. Katsuki seemed oblivious to the looming threat, red eyes as wide as blood moons as he tried desperately to beseech the vigilante. “It’s not your fault, Izuku.” Izuku relaxed just the slightest as his friend addressed him by name, his real name. Katsuki’s voice was soft, pleading, honeyed with promise and brotherhood. “I know what it’s like to blame yourself for somethin’ bad. You know that I know. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this road.” Katsuki removed one of his gauntlets; it clanged to the ground, rolling a foot or so away to bump against the side of the building walling the alley. Katsuki’s expression was nothing sort of begging as he extended his hand to Izuku. “Please. Izuku. Come home.”

Izuku was tempted. So, so tempted. His fingers twitched as the inane desire gripped him, and his hand even rose a few centimeters. Home. Home. Home. The word pulsed in his mind, a repetitive drum hammering away at the wall of resolve he’s built up for months. Chips and cracks appeared in the fortification, dust raining down as Katsuki’s plea assaulted his will. Home.

“Welcome home, Izuku! I missed you so much. Tell me all about school- oh, but don’t make me cry, okay?”

Izuku sucked in a strangled breath as the voice of the person he’d never see again rang in his head. Hissing, he grabbed his hand and held it, physically restraining himself to squash the last dregs of the desire tainting his nerves. His emerald eyes hardened into shining gems rough and unpolished with malice.

“Sorry, Kacchan. I told you already. I can’t go back now.” Without warning, Izuku sprang at him, giving Katsuki no time to react as he aimed a savage kick to the side of his body. Katsuki’s reflexes were sharper than ever, so he managed to wedge his remaining gauntlet between himself and Izuku’s oncoming metal-coated boot. Boosted by the insane strength of Izuku’s Quirk, the blow crippled the metal of the gauntlet, making it crumple like aluminum wrap under the fierce assault of the strike. The force propagated across the surface to ripple into Katsuki’s body, and the boy yelped as he was abruptly flung sideways, right into the brick wall. The hard surface exploded upon his impact, clouding white, chalky dust into the air. Katsuki’s limp body slumped over the edge of the giant hole he’d created, twitched beneath a few cracked bricks. He was barely conscious, groaning Izuku’s name. Izuku straddled his legs where they stuck out into the alley, eyes lidded.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it- how easily he’d subdued Katsuki Bakugo, his greatest rival and fiercest competitor. It was so unlike Katsuki to be just immediately flattened, especially by one blow. But here he was, moaning as he cradled his broken ribs with blood streaming from the large gash in the side of his head. His red eyes peeked through the slits of his eyes, hazily focusing on the green-haired vigilante as he stepped away from the scene.

“Get back here… Motherfucker…” Katsuki’s voice warbled with exhaustion from the concussion he was probably sporting. The bricks shifted and clattered off his form as he half-climbed, half-stumbled out of the hole. Izuku glanced over his shoulder from the entrance of the alley to see Katsuki barely standing, knees wobbling as he staggered after him. Scratches littered his skin and blood spattered his black-and-orange costume. “Get back here, Deku! I ain’t done yet!” he demanded, louder. In the next second, his legs gave out and he slammed face-first into the cobblestone. Izuku watched him slowly wiggle with a mixture of pity and satisfaction. “Fuck,” Katsuki wheezed, clearly struggling not to cry. “I just… I just want… I wanted things to be like they used to,” he sniffed pathetically. The tears blotted his face because he hadn’t the strength to lift a hand to wipe his face.

Izuku stared down at him mournfully.

“They can’t, Kacchan. They just can’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku left Katsuki and the petty thief in the alleyway. With all the noise, someone would’ve heard and called the authorities. Izuku activated his Quirk to place some distance between himself and the crime scene. His mind was a blank slate, thoughtless as he erased all urges to turn around and hug Katsuki while bawling his eyes out.

After a few minutes of leaping across the rooftops, Izuku crouched down onto the flat roof of a department store. He smiled wanly as he looked up at the night sky, where a few stars were stubbornly blinking behind the thick sheet of gray clouds.

“Sorry, Mom. You’re probably crying right now, huh? Sorry… But I can’t go back- not until someone pays.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @simplybakugou @lovelusional @wesparklebitch

#vigilante!izuku #vigilante!deku #platonic bakudeku #bakudeku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero #mha fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfic #my hero fanfic

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witchy-anna · 4 years

Text

Play with Fire (Dabi songfic)

Quirk: Homeostasis- the ability to force someone’s body back into its stable condition. Requires physical touch to activate. Examples are regulating the body's blood pressure, heart rate and temperature. Disadvantage: May cause the person to go into shock if the quirk works too quickly.

A/N: I’m going to go with vigilante fem!reader, sorry it took so long Fox! You’re a Doll 😘 Each section is essentially a time skip.

Warning: cursing (I curse a lot, can’t control my potty mouth)

Taglist: @soldier76sbabygirl

Message to be added to taglist

youtube

Insane, inside the danger gets me high Can't help myself got secrets I can't tell

Another string of deaths caused by the serial arsonist. When will it end? The news anchor reads off the prompt with obvious faux concern. Is this another travesty caused by the League of Villains? Find out tonight on the Hero News Network.

You sigh and grumble, “What a crock of shit.”

A husky voice says close to your ear, “You sound more irritated than concerned.”

Without startling to the closeness you crane your neck around and level a glare at the person intruding in on your space.

A raven haired man stands close, sunglasses obscuring his eyes and shirt collar pulled high covering the bottom half of his face. How strange.

You tsk and turn back to the screen now playing an expose on a local pro heroes love life, as if that matters. Gesturing vaguely at the screen you spit out, “They sound so..fake...People are dying and instead they focus on who crawled out of bed with some pro.”

“This world is so full of suffering, who can blame them for being desensitized to it,” the man says with an oddly cheerful tone.

“I suppose so,” you say but it falls on deaf ears. Gone.

In other news, the police and pros are still on the lookout for a masked vigilante...You spin on your heels before the news anchor can finish their report. With a quickened pace to trudge another monotonous day of desk work. Fun stuff.

I love the smell of gasoline I light the match to taste the heat I've always liked to play with fire

Another night, another secret patrol, hood pulled high, mask secured, and ass kicking boots laced with vengeance. Monotonous desk job during the day and vigilante at night.

Illegal being the operative word, the one floating in front of your vision akin to an annoying bug. Following you around each and every night you took off on an excursion.

This night was the same as any other night, some unsuspecting fool thinking they could pull one over on you. Sorely mistaken darling. Your quirk may not be the most suited for combat but you had worked hard to get where you are now.

Again and again late into your sleepless nights you question why you are doing this. Why pick up what the pro heroes leave behind.

The words etched into your mind of popular top ranking heroes saying: My quirk isn’t suited for this. Let someone else handle it. Over and over again.

You want to scream in their face, Neither is mine but you don’t see me giving up!

Bitterness will get you nowhere in life, so instead, you chose to focus that venom on helping those left behind. At least, that’s how it was at first.

I ride (I ride) the edge (the edge) My speed goes in the red

The concussive shock of an explosion nearly knocks you off your feet. Without a second thought you take off in a sprint to the source.

“No,” you whisper. Just a moment too late. To slow, what you wouldn’t give for a speed quirk.

Blue flames roar, reaching and clawing high in the sky. There is the distant scream of sirens signaling their approach. Someone is crying, a wail, a whimper, the harsh dissonance of fear.

Ash falls like snow, blue and black tinted snow. It’s eerie but strangely beautiful.

Emergency lights reflect off shattered pieces of glass littering the sidewalk and a single silhouette stands framed by the flames. The wind picks up causing ash and debris to fly everywhere; and almost comically his beat-up coat to flair behind him.

A dry humorous laugh escapes much to your dismay. What is this an action movie?

Intense eyes matching the azure flames turns to you, meeting your own (e/c) and rooting you to the spot. A flash of stark white teeth stretches the skin at the corners of his mouth, cut in half by scarred skin. No fear, no panic of being caught.

“Wait!” you shout, desperation evident in your voice. “Stop!” Something nags at your subconscious, that feeling when you leave the house and your mind insists you forgot something but have no inkling what it could be.

The man leisurely lifts a hand from his pocket and waves without turning around, disappearing around the corner. A wave that says: Until next time.

Hot blood (hot blood), these veins (these veins) My pleasure is their pain

Another week passes before you see him again. Lying to yourself, you had dropped everything to sprint to another howling blue fire, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. To save people? Or to...no don’t finish that thought, you grumble internally.

The stench of burnt flesh makes your stomach churn and you stifle a gag even through your mask. Steeling yourself you search for the source, is it a body or a person in need?

You follow your nose to the source. “Oh,” the word leaves your mouth with barely a sound. Just a puff of air really.

There he sits, reclined against a trash bin partially hidden in shadows. If not for your keen sense of smell he would have stayed hidden. The smell is strong enough to make your eyes water. He watches you with narrowed luminous eyes, the only thing visible in the dim light. You step closer and he raises an open palm pointed at you, the blue flames dance and kiss his skin.

Steam rises from his skin and he pants, clearly in pain.

“Your quirk hurts you,” it’s a statement not a question. “Let me help.”

His eyes narrow to slits before he gives a quick nod and you carefully moved to kneel beside him. The palm with the flame clenches closed to extinguish the flame but stays poised to react if you try anything. He lets out a heavy breath that literally steams the air, he’s overheating.

“I need to touch you,” you warn and slowly reach out your own hands. “I can cool you down.”

There’s a pause and he nods again, staying silent. Up this close the amount of scarred skin is jarring, as well as the staggering amount of piercings or are they staples? No matter, your hands slowly reach up to cup his cheeks and let your quirk kick to life. The steam rising from his skin slowly dissipates as your quirk works to regulate his temperature, cooling him down to his body's normal level.

Part of you wonders why he is even letting you touch him so...intimately. His temperature now back to as it should be but your hands remain.

“Is anyone there?” a stern voice calls from the entrance of the alley causing you to jump. Someone shines a flashlight down the alley, it’s a police officer.

“Leave now,” you hiss to him and stand quickly to move out of the cover of shadow. To the police officer you call out a soft, “Hello?”

His mouth opens as if he wants to say something but snaps it closed. Without a word he stands to leave but not without throwing a curious glance at your retreating form. Mask now gone but he can only see the back of your head, he watches as you put on an act for the police officer.

“Interesting,” he says to no one in particular.

I love to watch the castles burn These golden ashes turn to dirt

And again, he’s toying with you. This is a game to him.

It’s a mansion this time, his flames eating up the opulence like a cavity. Eating up the perfect expensive abode and turning it to rot; to ash. “How cliche,” you mutter to yourself. “What an idiot.”

A low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, “I have a name.”

With a half interested turn of your head, you glance back over your shoulder. “Oh? And why would I care?” Lie.

Another chuckle, but closer this time. He calls you out on your bluff, “Oh Doll, we both know that’s a lie.”

Right behind you now. You sense no malice, only curiosity coming from the man.

Your entire body locks up when you feel the barely there brush of a single callused finger at the base of your neck. It flicks the spot where your mask is tied and a breath of hot air sends goosebumps crawling across your skin.

“Dabi,” he whispers. Another long finger adds to the first, pads whispering against the soft skin of your neck. Heat radiates from both the fire in front of you and the man at your back. He tugs gently enough at your mask tie to not remove it, yet. “Why did you help me?”

That’s a good question, why did you? Because he’s a pretty face or someone in need, regardless of villain or civilian status.

You dodge the question, “Why did you let me?”

“Maybe I just want to unmask a certain little vigilante,” he chuckles again and it vibrates against your back. A single finger slips underneath your mask brushing against your cheek and dips to ghost over your lips and you let him.

“And maybe you’re just a pretty face,” you say, just a tad breathlessly.

He hums, “Oh so you think I’m pretty?” He chuckles at the blush creeping over your neck but then curses when there’s a shout about a pro arriving on the scene.

Dabi says directly into your ear, “Until next time Doll.” Gone.

I've always liked to play with fire Play with fire Fire, fire Oh, watching as the flames get higher Oh, I've always liked to play with (mm)

This time, he finds you.

“Are you following me?” you ask. It’s quiet where you sat, luckily far away from the view of any passing civilians as he could be easily recognized.

He sits beside you, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankle. “You never answered my question last time,” it’s a statement, ignoring your attempt at deflecting.

“I- I don’t know,” you admit staring down at your hands as if they hold all the answers. They clench and unclench in your lap.

You are the antithesis to his sturm and drang. A man who clearly is the type to take what he wants, simply sits beside you, waiting and watching the war going on inside of you.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases. “It was a simple question.”

Little did you know at the time it would only take one little push, or rather a gentle pull to flip your already wavering resolve. A hand catching yours, rough calloused thumb rubbing a line across your knuckles distracting you. The other shoots out and releases the tie of your mask before you can react.

“Maybe I just want the satisfaction of turning a vigilante hero to our side,” he says but spits out the word ‘hero’.

That’s what you get for letting your guard down. That’s what you get for letting a villain get so close.

“Get away from me,” you snarl and shoot to your feet. Reaching to yank back the mask he took from you but he keeps a firm grip on it. With a frustrated growl you rip the mask from him and storm off, face lit with a flush.

A dry raspy laugh sounds from him, and he says those stupid infuriating words again, “Until next time. Doll.”

Right of passage classic maverick Match in the gas tank Ooh that's wretched Unstoppable legendary animals (mm)

Just in time, you find him face to face with a pro, no, it’s a sidekick but dangerous nonetheless. The sidekick is clearly a newbie, shaking slightly in their boots but standing firm against the notorious villain.

Dabi has clearly overexerted himself again, the steam rises from him in waves, a drip of blood leaves a trail that disappears below the collar of his shirt.

Both swivel to face you. One pair of stern eyes that immediately recognize you as that vigilante. The other pair of eyes at first looks annoyed at the new addition but then relaxes to an easy expression, one of familiarity.

There’s a challenge in those azure eyes, asking what will you do? Who will you side with?

The sidekick starts to advance turning their attention away from you. You sprint, desperate to get to Dabi before the sidekick does.

Dabi sends out a flare of him fire directly at the sidekick but aims it away from you, over your head. What? Impossibly warm arms close around your waist, shielding you from harm. Again, what?

A camera flash. At the last second you realize your mask must haven fallen off in the chaos.

Right time for them; wrong time for you. Shit.

Digital justice Now you're gonna know us

Your face is displayed across tvs, newspapers, online articles, everything.

Vigilante Hero unmasked. Connections to the League of Villains?

An entirely unflattering picture from your workplace displayed beside the picture from the previous night. You, held in the arms of Dabi.

Your apartment had already been raided and is being watched by the police. An entire lifetime of stuff out of your reach in an instant. What did you expect to happen with this type of lifestyle anyway? Only the clothes on your back and a long since smashed cell phone tossed into a dumpster.

You go back to the place where he first took your mask, bearing your naked face to the world. Baring your face to him.

Hail to the king and queen of the ruckus Yacht Money wired No denying I've always liked to play with fire

“There’s no going back now Doll,” he says in a hushed tone. There is an edge uncertainty hidden under his usual bravado, maybe even vulnerability.

You shake your head, “Who said anything about going back.”

Azure eyes meet your own (e/c) and matching grins split both of your faces. Rough callused fingers slip into your palm and twine through your fingers, tugging until your nose to nose. His tongue darts out to taste the ash stuck to his scarred lip, it floats all around you both like a gentle but haunting snowfall.

“No going back now,” you repeat the sentiment before sealing your now flipped resolve with a kiss.

I've always liked to play with fire

#witchy-anna writes #dabi songfic #Dabi x reader #dabi is a todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #i love this dang song #I listen to it on repeat #i am not at all consistent with the section lengths oh well

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vaingloriosa · 5 years

Text

dulce bellum inexpertis

Summary: War is sweet to those who have never fought.

Word count: 1.7k

Characters: John Wick, neutral reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (not too gore-y aka my haemophobia (fear of blood) keeps me at bay), fatal attraction perhaps?

Author’s note: this was requested by @bikuai!! and HELLO! this is my first story written under my new username. i know it has been a hot minute since i’ve written something for y’all and i thank you 3000 for sticking by my side! i do have some more tricks up my sleeves so i hope you stick around for that :) be sure to check out my masterlist link in my description!

Deep breath.

Nothing that you do can alleviate your racing heart from pounding against your chest. Even after a few gigs like this, you still haven’t honed in on your skill of being a professional assassin. Not many people hire such a liability since you have only been in the game for a few months now. Low-level kills were more within your comfort zone thus why you were freaking out right this very minute, this very second, this very moment.

Sitting across the bar sat John Wick, the Baba Yaga himself.

Rumor has it that he could kill a man by just merely staring at them.

Your blood runs cold, sending a fresh goose flesh in its wake. You stir your drink with the straw provided, watching the cherry bob in and out of the liquid. The music coming from the orchestra drowns out most of your heartbeats but you can’t seem to focus much on anything but. However, you remember the money reward for his head and with the tight rut that you currently found yourself in, you weren’t going to go down without a fight. Even if you thought you were weak, you know you are not a quitter.

Your eyes catch your reflection on the mirror behind the bar and observe the rest of the crowd. Nothing too out of the ordinary except everyone in the room is an assassin looking to seek out revenge on the excommunicated Wick along with that cash money reward. You take a sip out of your drink after you were done playing with the maraschino cherry in it. The drink does little to take the edge off but you enjoy the sensation you get from just one sip. You lick the seam of your bottom lip, savoring the taste of cherry. You look inconspicuously through your peripheral vision and catch another sight of the man of the hour. The way his suit snugged in all the right places, how the worn and battle-torn face looks good on him, his hair reflecting against the light of the chandelier...

The blade and the handgun concealed against your garment reminds you of the reason why you’re here.

You take a bigger gulp of your drink.

Just as the orchestra pauses for a second to move onto the next selection, you hear shuffling behind you. As you look up to check in the mirror, there’s a loud declaration in a language that you aren’t familiar with that rings through the hall. A tall man in an all dark suit raises a gun fixed with a silencer at the barrel towards John. Others draw their own weapons from their blazers and jackets and all crowd around the bar. You watch as the orchestra members begin to scatter out the room and flee to somewhere far, far away from the shit that will soon unfold.

Ever unwavering, John continues to stare down at his glass of whiskey that has remained untouched when he got here. Slowly, he brings the glass closer to his lips then takes a modest sip. You spin slowly from your stool to stand up and raise your own handgun towards his direction and join the others.

“Now,” says the assassin who first started the commotion in a thick, heavy accent, “shall we begin?”

Without missing a single beat, a bullet pierces between the man’s eyes. Then, all hell breaks loose.

You have one advantage in this fight, you aren’t as cocky as the rest of them.

As the others pay attention towards the man of the hour, you dive behind the bar. You had noticed the bartender slip away earlier for he knew the tension was becoming overwhelming at best. The glasses that lined the bar shatter as bullets fly almost everywhere but the main target. You peer over the bar as cover then try to get a hit of your own. Of course you bullet whizzes behind John’s head while he tackles another man to the ground. You duck again when you hear the sound of bullet coming then colliding with the mirror, causing it to break into several million pieces. In a small window of clarity, you wonder if all this fighting is worth the money.

Then again, you remind yourself of the status this can bring you and how your life can finally improve after this. You take another deep breath then join the rest of the mob. It’s significantly smaller from before but at least you made it this far from being strategic.

Maybe being a coward does have its perks.

You recognize some of the faces of the rest of the assassins, some of legendary status within the organization. You’ve heard stories about them, wondered if you would leave such a legacy if you really applied yourself to your job. You could almost admire them if you weren’t after the same target and money. You draw your gun once more and fire at John but as quick as your bullets may be, he’s quicker and dodges them effortless all the while being with another opponent.

Even you have to applaud such skill and technique where need be.

You’re nearly blindsided as a man near your right shoves you right into a wooden cocktail table. You wince at the pain but bury the pain as you deliver two bullets to the unfamiliar assailant. Perhaps they may have been on your level, thirsty for a big game kill as yourself.

Though you may be weak, you are not a quitter.

You do what you have to do to get to the prize.

Now there are only five people left standing. John looks unfazed by the situation, continuing to throw blows and bullets in each of his attackers. Each assassin seems to drop like flies until it’s just you, another, and him. The other, a woman, begins to deliver blows to his chest with her heavy boots, making John walk backwards until he is pinned up against the bar. You know the woman isn’t going to let you have this kill at all but you still try and take a shot while she reaches for the gun holstered on her belt

Click. The sounds of an empty chamber.

You toss the empty gun aside then grab the blade you packed beforehand. You feel almost uncomfortable with it in your hand, preferring your gun over this any day but sometimes you have to improvise.

You give it a twirl in your hands then securely wrap your fingers around the handle like your life depends on it.

The sound of a bullet rings through the room and you watch as the woman’s body limps on the floor, making a disgusting sound as it makes impact on the tile. You chest rises then falls as your breath quickens once you are face-to-face with the man you are tasked to kill.

He’s dangerous, he’s hell, he’s every nightmare and haunting lore from your childhood. He stands tall with his shoulders squared to you, intimidating, intriguing. Your lips part slightly at the sight of him, how the room smells of copper and death yet here you are, wondering if the money is still worth the pain.

You let out a deafening scream then charge forward into war.

A hero’s harrowing journey.

Perhaps you may have always been predictable but this level of forethought on John’s part is otherworldly. Every blow you deliver is blocked by his quick reflexes and you wonder if you are even tiring the man out. You try to elbow John to strike at that chiseled jaw of his but, lo and behold, his arm pushes you away from him. You slightly stumble yet you don’t give up just yet. You weren’t the last one standing for no reason.

You get a slight running start from the stumble then wrap a leg on his shoulder, using your upper body strength to spin him around towards the bar. You drive your knife into the blade of his shoulder yet he still doesn’t go down. You release the tension from your muscles as you predict that John will slam your back against the counter top. Some of his blood splatters on your face as he attacks you, shoving his arm to your neck in an attempt to knock you out. You struggle underneath the overwhelming power he has over you, in both strength and experience. You try to fling your legs across John’s waist but he pins you down even harder at your attempt. With the near body slam, your knife slid across the counter top away from you.

You were now defenseless.

Yet you still carried hope.

The tiny glass shards begin to tear into your body as John presses your back further and further. You can taste the familiar copper twang inside your mouth, feeling yourself become lightheaded as John constricts your airways. Maybe this is how you die, at the hands of your side job that no one in your family knew about, in the hands of a rather handsome fugitive you were tasked to kill.

Perhaps this is destiny.

Your eyes meet his as you struggle for breath. His eyes are dark, in the shadows of his rather long jet black hair. Some strands are matted to his face from the lacerations that the others gave him. You can tell he is struggling to keep his composure with his arm slightly wavering from the jabs of your knife. John almost growls when his eyes lock into yours.

The stars begin to dance in front of your line of vision.

Then the pressure is off your neck.

You gasp for air, your hands instinctively wrapping themselves around your neck to make sure nothing is off. You grip the edge of the bar, nearly clawing at it as you try to lift yourself away. The sound of heavy leather shoes hitting the tiled floor is the only thing that echoes besides your straggled breathing.

“Why...?” Your raspy voice is barely above a whisper and you know the man clearly can’t hear you.

Had this been an act of mercy or something out of pity?

You slump down until you are seated on the floor with your back against the bar. The double doors shut close behind John as he makes his escape with his life.

You take another sharp breath in.

The stars begin to dance in front of your line of vision.

Tagging: @kwaiky, @cura-posterior (on SPIDER-MAN dori you are a keanu reeves stan now)

#angel writes #john wick x reader #john wick #john x reader #john wick imagine #john wick imagines #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves imagines #keanu reeves #bruh moment it's been several months since i've written everyone scream #dulce bellum inexpertis

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minnochu · 5 years

Text

Interference (pt 23)

Officer!Jimin x Reader AU

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18 | pt 19 | pt 20 | pt 21 | pt 22 | pt 23 | pt 24 | pt 25

(A/N): Okay, I tried my best to proof it, so sorry if there’s still small mistakes. I ended up deciding on finally finishing up Interference... so enjoy :’)

“I’m home!”

Is what you would usually hear being hollered from the front door when your best friend comes home from work. This time around, there’s a loud slam of the door against the wooden frames that rattles the decorations on the wall, along with an unsettling silence that follows. At this time, you’re in your room, flipping through pages of old scrapbooks and photo albums, some you’ve previously looked through, and some that you still had yet to look through in hopes of nostalgia.

The silence is unnerving, it makes you frown and peer out of your bedroom door in worry. The hallway is dark, save for the soft fiery glow that resonates from the direction of the living room. Nibbling on your lower lip, you step carefully on the floor below, making way towards the light.

“Long night?”

Images flash before your eyes of a familiar living room. It’s not the one that you’re approaching, but you recognize the furniture and the placement of each. An older man, whose face is blurred, is sprawled across the length of one couch. Your mind recognizes him as your father, despite no face being there for you to acknowledge.

“As usual,” the man sighs, his hand moving to drag down his face, “You should be asleep, I hear you’ve got an exam tomorrow.”

“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

The man chuckles, it’s so familiar, it makes your chest tighten in sadness for your deceased family - your murdered family.

“There’s no need for that, (Y/n), I’ll always come home to you all.”

He didn’t, you suppose. You don’t remember how you found out they’d been murdered, but you can recognize the dread and remorse that swirls in your middle at the thought that he could not return home one day. Just like him, your other family members were also plucked one by one off the face of this earth. But why leave you? Why had you been the only one to survive?

Was that man, at the plaza that day with Jimin and Taehyung… the one you’d witnessed dismembering a poor young girl, the one who’d taken your family away? Your heart tightens, nails digging into the meat of your palms.

You feel another haziness in your vision, the oncoming of another memory when Jungkook’s voice interrupts you. Your sight sharpens and you find yourself at the edge of the living room, leaving the darkness of the hall to enter the warmth of the lamp nestled in the corner of the room beside the couch Jungkook is sitting on. Blinking, you notice the slouch in his form, leaning over with his forearms pressed on top of his knees, hands clasped together as he gazes at you. His dark hair falls over his face like a curtain, masking his face in darkness but you can feel his eyes watching you move further into the light.

“What are you doing still up?” His voice asks, low and uncharacteristically raspy, perhaps a sound resulting from fatigue.

“Was hoping to stroll down memory lane,” you smile vaguely, reaching his hunched over body.

Jungkook’s eyes stare down at your feet that nearly brush against his sock clad ones.

“Is something wrong?” You ask worriedly. He was being uncharacteristically silent, usually coming home bouncing with excitable happiness that could rival Hoseok’s. He neither raised his head or regarded your question with an answer. It must’ve been a while before he moved, hands rising to circle your waist. His forehead presses to your belly and you wonder if something had happened at work.

“Jungkook?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he whispers steadily, voice soft and meant to relax your concerns.

Glancing down at his shaky hands, you take one of them and notice the apparent redness that swells around each of his knuckles in the dim light. Some of which had cracks of broken skin where stains of blood are oozing from.

Eyebrows knitting together, you lift a hand to smooth over his cheek, fingers brushing over the messy mop of black hair that curls at his ears.

“Look at me right now.”

You inhale sharply when he finally complies with your order. His dark eyes avoid yours as the light reveals to you the cut on his brow, an almost purple swell on his right cheek, and the bloody mess that is his bottom lip. You realize now that his clothes are battered and dirty, not as clean as you saw when he left for work this morning.

“Who did this?” You ask softly, remembering your memory of yourself treating his bruised hand when he’d fought off bullies in college. Taking his hands in yours, you bite your lip and force down the nostalgia of treating Jimin’s hand as well.

“I was out drinking with co-workers,” He mused as you let go of him in search of an ice pack and a first aid kit, “It was just a friendly bout with other bar-goers.”

“That doesn’t look friendly at all,” you frown, dropping the ice pack beside him as you take a seat to his left. Cupping his cheek, you can only sigh as you disinfect the cut over his brow and bottom lip. The blood is sticky on the sooty follicles of his eyebrows, his eyes watching you with a soft warmth that you feel, and when you catch his eyes, there’s some kind of complexity in them that you don’t understand. “You good?” You whisper with a smile, continuing to dab at his wounds.

“I really missed you… this…” he sighs, leaning into your hand that is smoothed over the expanse of his cheek.

“Yeah?” Smile widening, you answer his confession with a soft smack to his bruised cheek with the coldness of the pack of ice you prepared, “Stop getting into fights you barbarian.”

“It’s not like you… I don’t remember you ever coming home after fights with anything more than injured fists… they got you good huh.”

He chuckles at your jab, holding the pack to his cheek as you take his other hand to treat and wrap in gauze, “I guess… they’re much different than the highschool and college jocks I’m used to.” The coolness against his bruise is a stark contrast the warmth that radiates from the spot that you had held.

Switching holds when you finish with one hand, he glances down at you warmly, a small smile playing on his lips as you concentrate on wrapping his hand.

“(Y/n).”

The whisper is soft. It just barely reaches your ears, even in the silence that has settled between you both. The call of your name urges you to raise your head once you finish tying off the wrap around his hand. His dark eyes gaze into yours and you freeze, unsure what’s happening when a warmth splays across your lips. There’s no movement, just a hesitant pressure against your mouth. Blinking, you don’t even realize it’s Jungkook whose lips are kissing yours, his hands trembling as they drape over yours that lay on your lap. Was he nervous? Afraid?

His lashes fall over the tops of cheeks before rising and his eyes stare down at your mouth once he pulls away with a hot and shaky breath that wafts over you. He does in fact smell like alcohol, the remnants of his screwdriver reaching your nose and you wonder if you could taste it on your lips if you licked them.

“I… I’m sorry…” he swallows, placing a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, cheeks flushing a dark shade, noticeable even under the dim warmth of the lamp. “I was a bit impatient on my part…”

“It’s alright,” you smile, unsure what to think of this development between you two. Surely there had to be something between Jungkook and your past self. You felt bad that you could barely remember those feelings you must’ve held for the boy, only feelings of a close friend remained, but not of a lover. It must be the interference of Jimin that keeps you from those romantic feelings for your best friend, because now you realized you hold those intimate feelings for the detective.

Jungkook probably wanted you to regain your memories as soon as possible. You felt bad for him. You wanted to give him just that, the return of his best friend and possibly lover.

Was lover even the right label? You would ask, but such a question would be very awkward and make him avoid the topic.

“It’s late,” he finally whispers, raising from his seat, “I… thank you for taking care of my wounds.”

“It’s no problem,” you answer meekly, unsure where to place your eyes when you notice how his hands instinctively fly to his sides. You catch the action, noticing how he tries to play it off when he catches you staring. “Jungkook, raise your shirt.”

He raises an eyebrow at your forwardness, “(Y/n), I know the kiss just now was awkward and all, you don’t have to jump me to make me feel better.”

Rolling your eyes at his joke, you flick his forehead, “That’s not what I was trying to do you perv, don’t try to hide the fact that you’re hurt all over your body.”

It takes you all your strength to fight against Jungkook’s sturdy body, but you get him to sit down and peel his jacket and shirt off. You take note of the dirt and grime that clings to the material before turning to blink at the sight before you. If this were any other day, and any other situation, you would be gawking at how fit Jungkook keeps himself.

This was not one of those situations.

A gasp leaves your parted lips, brows knitting together as you rake over the purple and black blotched expanse of his torso. Red dots here and there where blood vessels have burst under the impact of those bar fighters he spoke of. He hisses when you graze the pads of your fingers over skin that’s flushed red, trying to keep from touching the purple and darker skin.

“Jungkook what the fuck?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he tries, seething when you glare at him and smack your hand as lightly as you can against one blot by his ribs. You leave with a huff and return with an elastic bandage, pursing your lips as you begin wrap it around his lean body, careful not to brush your fingers over the skin.

“I don’t know whether to yell at you… or what…” you frown, feeling tears spring to your eyes as you finish up and glare down at your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’ll take it from here, so get some rest, okay?”

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, biting his lower lip as he leans forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Good night.”

You can only sigh and retire to your room for the night as does the raven haired man, grabbing his top garments and trudging towards his quarters with a frown etched over his handsome face. His back is broad and equally as muscled as his front, reminding you of Jimin’s scarred one as darkness consumes Jungkook and a door creates a barrier between you both before you enter your room.

Pushing the pile of albums and scrapbooks towards the foot of the bed, you exhale and lay on the soft mattress, letting your body sink into the cushions, legs dangling over the sides as you stare up the ceiling. Turning over in an effort to go to sleep, you gaze at your forgotten cell phone, running your fingers over the charm that you forgot to give back to Jimin. Perhaps you wanted to keep it to remind you of your time with the boys and their generosity for taking you in despite your ups and down with mostly Jimin.

You hadn’t realized you were staring at your favorite contacts screen until the slightest pressure of your thumb over Taehyung’s name caused your phone to automatically give the male a call.

“Crap!” You stammer, sitting up and fumbling with the device in an effort to cancel the call but the screen changes and a timer begins counting from 00:00, indicating Taehyung has answered.

“Hello?” the man answers in a light and airy tone, probably excited to get a call from you, “(Y/n)? Is something wrong? It’s been a while!”

Your heart squeezed. You missed them so much.

“Sorry, I accidentally butt dialed you,” You lied, biting on your lower lip to fight back a whimper.

“No! Don’t be sorry! I’m so glad to hear your voice again!” The male exclaims from the other side of the receiver, “I missed you, even Jimin does. He was a mess you know.”

The thought of Jimin distraught over your leave was too good to be true. You’d like to think that he had feelings for you, like you do for him, but his complex must make him incapable of loving another woman. Jungmi had to be the blame for that, as well as his mother and Ahn Daeyoung.

“We all miss you.”

Does Jimin really? You wonder as you hear footsteps patter against their wooden floor on Taehyung’s side. Suddenly, you feel a wave of nostalgia, picturing their hallway as the cry of his door hinge sounds as a result of him opening his door. His steps echo in the call as you imagine Jimin’s door, Taehyung’s fist raps against the wood before it opens and a gruff voice drawls in annoyance.

“What the fuck do you want at 1 in the morning, Kim Taehyung?”

It’s Jimin. You fight back a sob at the voice you missed so much. His hair must be a mess, you can picture the milky orange with hints of dark brown growing from his roots. You can see his eyes, lidded with sleep as he glares at his partner for waking him up.

“It’s (Y/n), I thought you’d like to talk to her,” Taehyung’s meek voice began, refusing to back down when Jimin starts to refuse. There’s rustling as the younger shoves the phone into the elder’s hands, leaving the room to avoid getting his phone back.

Jimin sighs, combing his fingers through his freshly dyed black hair, dropping onto his bed with the cell phone nestled against his cheek and ear. Without you, his bed was half empty and he hated how barren it felt, but after he chose to move on and man up, he tried to ignore it. But here you were, crawling back into his mind with a single phone call. His heart sped up, hammering in his chest as he listened for any indication of you on the other line. A soft inhale and exhale was all he could hear.

“(Y/n)?” he sighs into the speaker but silence follows and he wonders if you fell asleep.

On your side, you cup a hand over your mouth to keep from crying into the phone of how much you miss him and possibly confess your feelings for the detective. He continues to call you, your name, your nicknames he knew you hated. But you don’t answer and he sighs.

“Good night then… I guess,” he mutters in confusion, catching the small wisp of your voice that shyly responds with a good night as well right as he presses the red hang up button on the screen. His heart flutters and he can only bite his lip as he falls onto his mattress with a soft fwump. What was that about? Were you intentionally making it hard for him to forget about you?

It keeps him up for the night, not being able to fall asleep until an hour later. He appears at work looking more haphazard than usual, receiving looks from his coworkers that are confused when he was making such a good progress in picking himself back up again.

He goes about ignoring their looks and proceeds towards his desk when Yoongi steps into his line of sight. The blonde appears frazzled, his eyes show more than his expression, a taut line that spreads across his lips with his hair mussed up and all over the place as well. His brown eyes express a myriad of fear and a fire that tells Jimin to shut his mouth.

“I’ve been up all night,” Yoongi explains, taking this time to try and smooth down the flyaways and strands of bleached hair that stick out from the mop on his head, “But you won’t believe what I found.”

The elder beckons, urges, almost even drags the raven haired man when he shows confusion at his delirium. Widely known around the office for his apathy and stone cold appearance, it had to be dire for the blonde to look at him in urgency. Stumbling over his own shoes, Jimin is tugged towards Yoongi’s desk where a vial of milky brown liquid is encased.

“Hyung… I’m not sure if I understand…”

Yoongi eyed the division leader’s office before yanking open a desk drawer. There, he retrieves a notepad and a ballpoint pen from the container atop his desk, frowning as he scribbles down characters for the other. He wondered why he couldn’t just say it aloud but before he could question the blonde, he spun the notepad around to face him.

I requested for the cafe we went to that day to save the coffee that (Y/n) was drinking. Forensics took a look at it and found traces of flunitrazepam, roofies, dissolved in it. Explains why she fainted the way she did. They managed to save this vial when I warned them of Ahn possibly scrapping it. Which he did... Don’t you think it suspicious that the pliers from the other day suddenly disappeared? And now this, don’t you think it’s suspicious that her drink was drugged? And by who do you think? Certainly not the barista.

His heart nearly dropped into his stomach at the realization. Jimin’s eyes widened as Yoongi leaned close to his ear to whisper harshly.

“The files on her family’s death were corrupted, I had to fish them out when a certain boss was Ahn out. He obviously has a hand in the disappearance and manipulation of shit around here, even the lowered sentence of that murderer… (Y/n)’s in danger.”

#i think this reveal was pretty obvious #lol #so uh #have fun till next week with this information #interference #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin scenario #jimin scenarios #kpop fanfics #kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #reader insert #bts x reader #basically a jungkook x reader now #jimin imagine

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lilyeontan · 5 years

Text

Under the Sea 🌊

࿇Pairing: Mermaid!Jimin x Reader

࿇Genre: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

࿇Inspiration: Waves feat. 6lack- Normani

⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞

This strange warmth of darkness is all you know right now. Motion and thought seem like distant allies to you. The push and pull of the tide doesn’t stir you, nor do the screeches of overhead seagulls. The sour aroma of salt does little to make you gag. Your instincts have betrayed you. You sink deeper into the pitch blackness of your idle brain.

One of the only things you can rely on is your breath.

Congratulations. You are still alive.

You chest rises and falls with a shaky pattern of respiration. Some water has pooled at the bottom of your lungs, causing you to cough and sputter occasionally. This action may be the only indication that you aren’t some unlucky traveler whose just washed up on the shore.

The archaic fear of water is something that swims deep in your blood. A princess like you wouldn’t even dream of touching a body of water other than a bathtub, but here you are, almost dead from drowning.

Shipwrecks don’t happen often, but when they do, there are seldom alive who can tell their tales from firsthand experiences. But those people aren’t you...

You layed awake as the boat rocked you back and forth, doing nothing to aid your queasy stomach. Aquaphobia and seasickness are a lovely combination, don’t you think? Pondering what you may have eaten that could have ailed you, the clap of overhead thunder makes you jolt in fear. You lay still in your sheets, mentally hoping to atone for whatever may have caused the Gods to be this angry.

Seconds pass by. Seconds turn into minutes, minutes to hours. For what feels like an eternity, no more calamities or commotions disrupt the little progress you’ve made at trying to sleep. The growing weight of your eyelids lull you to slumber. You have actually succeeded in getting some rest. Soft snores echo quietly within your bed chamber.

“Y/n! Y/n, get up!”, a voice screams somewhere. A strong pair of hands shake you awake. Your awakening is a rather pathetic one. You can barely register your surroundings let alone the maid shouting at you. Everything is a blur.

“A fire! The sails and mast are on fire! Y/n we need to go. Y/n, please get up!”

Her words are enough to snap you to life. With one swift motion, the covers are off of you and you’re racing to the deck along with Jeanette, your maid.

When you reach the deck, nothing short of a nightmare unfolds before you. The ravaging rains do nothing the extinguish the sails or mast, which are blazing with flames at this point.

Your instincts tell you to run, but that seems foolish since you can’t think of a destination where you would be safe. You must remind yourself that you are on a boat, not land.

All you can think about is your whether or not you will see your parents again. Guilt and shame flushes throughout your system; the last time you had seen them you were yelling at each other. No articulated goodbyes. No formalities. No departing embraces. Just disappointed spirits and unspoken apologies. You almost feel selfish, disregarding their feelings about their growing daughter whose embarking on adventures all on her own. You forget that to them, you were drawing on the castle walls just yesterday. You never chose to see things from their side. Independence was a necessity to you, not a goal or option.

While your inner turmoil transforms your surroundings into a blur, you fail to recognize the absence of Jeanette, nor the fact that fire is spreading rapidly. The entire mast is engulfed in fire, weakening the wooden core. Slowly, but surely, the mast begins the sway back and forth. When it generates enough force to fall entirely, the pressure exerted when it hit the deck split the boat right down the middle. Gravity as you know it is nonexistent as you flail towards the fresh crevice. Your vision blacks out.

If you weren’t unconscious, you would hear the merman crying for you. He does have a weak heart, after all.

When he first saw your lifeless body drifting aimlessly in his ocean, he had mixed emotions. On one hand, he was grateful to have been blessed by your beauty. To him, your face was familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint your first meeting. Then he remembered. He had dreamt of you before, but not in your human form. He dreamt of you with a golden halo and a pair of ivory wings. You were his salvation. His one way ticket to a better world. He wanted to make you his. He wanted to claim your soul for his own. And on the other hand, anxiety invaded his system upon realizing that your body was rather limp and pale.

He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you waist and pulling you up for air. Oxygen intake was the only thing that the merman knew that humans required. The rain did nothing to aid his sight, but he managed to swim to the nearest shore with an impressive speed. He laid you on the damp sand and laid down beside you. He traced your facial features: your brows, eyelids, nose bridge, cheeks. He stopped himself when he got to your lips. You possessed lips that looked to be straight out of a Renaissance painting. Slightly red and wide enough to showcase a smile of pearls.

He laid there for what seemed like hours and with each passing minute, the more anxious he became. If he had known better, he would have pressed his ear against your chest to detect your heartbeat.

Tears of a lost love that was never known began to spring into his eyes. His heart is as big as his fin. He gasped and tried desperately to combat them as he lifted you into his scaly lap. As the rain lets up, he strokes your shoulder and rocks you back and forth because he thinks he’s comforting you, but he’s really comforting himself. When the assault of raindrops finally stops, his emotionally labored breathing and the low tide waves are the only sounds to be heard.

The clouds begin to part to reveal the sun, golden in all her glory. Rays of sunshine beam down from the sky, illuminating the shoreline that the pair of you currently reside on. One particularly shiny ray lands on the two of you. With one hand supporting your waist and the other shielding his sight, the merman squints at the sun.

Whether it’s some newfound courage or an instinctual inspiration sparked by the sun, the creature’s next actions are based off of subconscious desires. He feels something inside of him. This sensation is warm and pleasurable, but unfamiliar to him in its nature.

It is hope.

He leans into you and closes his eyes. His lips are slightly puckered and his hopes are high. He closes the space into between you two. And kisses you.

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that some great light source is behind them. As you begin to raise your eyelids, a foreign feeling rests on the tips your lips. The texture is soft and tender.

It feels...good. ‘This must be what a kiss feels like, but who the hell is kissing me?’, you think to yourself. While any other person in your situation would feel disgusted and violated, you however feel like you should feel thankful for the stranger. You kiss back.

The merman jumps back in shock of your sudden movement. You look up at him with clear confusion. Despite your bewilderment, you’re the first to break the silence.

“Who are you? Are you my guardian angel?”, you ask after you momentarily snap out Cupid’s spell. The young merman chuckles coyly. Suddenly, a pressure below you lifts you up. You look to see a fluorescent pink tail in the air, brashly moving side to side almost as if it’s waving a hello to you.

“I’m sorry to break your heart, but I’m from the water. I’m not your angel...”, he says. You smile at his charm. His eyes are pools of light turquoise, the color of Bohemian seas. They appear to be wet. His hair, like his tail, is baby pink. That same hue tints his cheeks slightly. His nose is simple, yet defined. And his lips... His lips are like succulent flower peddles begging to be plucked. They are perfectly swollen and appear to be made for kissing.

“.... but I can be.” And with that, he leans in again.

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surrounded-by-superheroes · 5 years

Text

Crave Ch. 5 (Bucky Barnes)

Summary; The Asset.

Makes it sound like there was only one, doesn’t it? One assassin, one soldier, one life stolen and taken over to be used as a tool for evil minds. There was never only one. Hydra’s bloodstained hands, people called them. And once one’s hands have been bathed in blood so many times, it’s near impossible to look at the skin and not see red. Yet, when Hydra has been pushed out into the open by the Avengers there’s the slightest flicker of hope for the asset left behind. You see, I never had a Steve Rogers. No one is looking for me. The only person I’ve ever had is the one I was trapped with, the one that’s now free. The one who, if he finds me, I will surely destroy.

A/N; This took forever, but I hope you all enjoy this series!

Warnings; Language

Words; 2,745

Chapter Four~~~Crave Masterlist~~~Complete Masterlist

Chapter Five

A Bet

I’m down the driveway within five minutes and in the city within thirty. The chill of the open air is welcome on my sweat slicked skin and the familiarity of this city calms me. Nothing in Hydra ever looked like this. Passing the coffee shop Natasha and I were in the other day nearly brings a smile to my face, but soon I feel the sadness catching up to me and I have to run again. With the sun no doubt getting ready to rise, I decide to head back to the facility. My first stop is that gorgeous gym. Luckily, I’m first. Since I still have energy, my fists curl and I start with the punching bags. Bare skin hits the dark navy of the bag and it’s a damn satisfying feeling. When my knuckles are raw I walk away towards the shooting range. All concrete and targets, it’s not exceedingly impressive. At least, not until I see the wall covered in knives and guns. A low whistle slips from my lips and I back up a little to pick my poison.

I choose six knives to start with. Pure black and double edged that comes to a sharp tip. Laying them out in the farthest stall, I smile. This station has foam at the far end and a target already painted into it. I twirl a knife in my hand before tossing them all in quick succession. Two in the heart, two in the head, two in the crotch.

“Not bad.” I spin to face the soft voice and find Natasha waiting there for me. “Rough morning?” My eyes follow hers to my raw fists.

“You could say that.” I allow and slip into the danger zone to retrieve the knives. After I return and place them in their proper place, I walk out with Natasha.

She pauses and I take the moment to notice she’s in workout clothes herself; black yoga pants and a white tank-top. “Actually, I was feeling like a workout. Care to go a round with me?” She moves onto the padded floor and raises an eyebrow as a challenge. The corner of my mouth lifts and I take down my hair, then redo it into a tight ponytail.

“I’m flattered.” I incline my head towards her and step onto the softer floor as well. As she cracks her knuckles I crack my neck and we both grin at the sounds. “Ready?” She hums the affirmative and we both crouch slightly. Right now, I have the advantage. I know what she can do and she only has an idea of what I can do. This can also be a disadvantage if she decides to test me by going all out.

That is exactly what she does.

For a few minutes we throw and dodge punches to feel each other out. Reaction times, where the eyes go, retaliation times. My only warning that Natasha’s about to change things up is a small upturning of the left side of her mouth. I press forward and as I step she hooks my ankle with her foot and tugs forward while shoving my chest back. Midfall I manage to pull my hands back and use them to flip back onto my feet, but Natasha is only just getting started. My foot shoots out to kick and she easily intercepts it, catching it with a hand and tossing it. I use this as leverage to spin and jump, kicking at her with more force. She ducks with a wide grin on her face and slides under me. As soon as both my feet are back on the ground her hands are around my throat. Feeling her body close behind me, I grab her wrists and flip us both. The breath is knocked out of her long enough for me to loose her hands. I elbow her ribs to prolong my advantage before rolling off her and standing. I lift a foot to knock her out, but she once again catches it and extends her arms to throw me off balance. My hands catch myself and I roll before hearing the thud of her fist hitting the pad where I just was.

We both stand and huff at seeing the grin on the other. “So how is this going to go, Natasha? Until one of us is unconscious?” I offer and she barks a laugh.

“How about first blood drawn?” She suggests and I nod, happy to have had the respite. “Unless, of course, you give in.” I snort.

“Unlikely.”

I slide towards her legs and she easily somersaults over me. We spin to face the other and limbs shoot out towards each other’s face. The nose is the easiest target and we both realize we’re aiming for the same body part at the same time. We both smirk. I duck an incoming punch and she snatches a handful of my hair, snapping my head back.

“Cheating, don’t you think?” I groan before flipping and smacking her hand off.

“Staying alive, I call it.” She remarks before taking a gut shot so she can throat punch me. I choke and focus solely on moving out of the way of her punches instead of throwing my own until I’ve regained my breath. Now when she throws her next punch I take her wrist like she did mine earlier and spin around her, holding my arm around her throat and leaning back so she can’t flip.

“Yield?” I question.

“Funny.” She croaks and peels up my pinkies, bending them back until I’m forced to let go or lose them both. My fingers wiggle in relief that the pressure is gone and Nat shrugs at the movement. “Winner makes the loser breakfast?”

I laugh and turn out of the way of her cartwheel of death. “After a shower. Agreed.”

“And what the hell is this?” My eyes look to the door and my entire body stalls when I see James standing there, shirtless. Fire echoes throughout my body before pain shoots through my arm.

“Aw, fucking hell.” I curse and rip my arm away from Natasha’s nails. Too late. The small crescent wounds are already barely bleeding. “Dammit. Jackass cost me the fight!” Natasha’s light laugh calls my eyes back to her just in time to catch a towel.

“Wipe off and meet me at the gathering room in thirty minutes.” She winks at me and heads out, whipping her own towel at Bucky as she passes. I wipe off my face and neck, then leave it to hang off my shoulders.

“Sorry for…distracting you.” James tells me and my eyes lift to meet his smirk. His eyes rove over my body the same time mine scan his. He’s just a tad more exposed than I am in my sports bra and shorts. He’s shirtless and in navy shorts with matching navy tennis shoes to match. As he sashays over to me it’s involuntary to slowly look him up and down. Scars litter every inch of his body, including his thick thighs hidden by cloth at the moment. His sharp V has me biting my lip as well as the few, what I know to be soft, dark, curls leading up to his belly button. White lines decorate his molded stomach all the way up to his pecs and those beautiful shoulders. Mouthwatering doesn’t even begin to describe him. Godlike, maybe. “Wouldn’t mind going a round with you, doll.” He offers before stopping in front of me. I make sure to keep at least five feet between us or else I’m almost positive I’d touch him. And that’s the minimum I’d do. A few stray waves escape his half bun and fall to frame his face. “Or just joining you in the shower.” Bucky continues and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth at the mere thought. Fucking hell.

“Think I can manage on my own. Or I could always enlist someone else’s help.” That shuts him up and I smile softly as I walk to the door. He catches up to me and gently takes my arm. I turn towards him and feel electricity crackle between our nearly naked bodies. Our eyes meet and I just know he’s about to ask me a mushy question.

“You alright?” There it is. Heat dies down only slightly as my mind flashes back to those blank eyes and I hear the memory of my neck snapping. I shrug my arm out of his grip and take a few steps away from him.

“I’m fine.” I cross my arms and face him. “Thank you, though. For last night.” His expression instantly softens.

“You can always come to me, Rosie. In any condition.” He tells me and I can see the honesty shining out of those bright eyes. “I care about your smartass.” Bucky jokes to lighten the mood and I roll my eyes.

“Sure. Shower.”

“Wouldn’t mind joining you!”

I flip him off and savor his laugh as I head to my room and take a shower. Afterwards I toss on a purple kami, white shrug, and jeans. I slip on some socks before heading into the gathering room to find Natasha waiting for me at the bar. She smirks at me.

“I like sausage patties and over easy eggs. And buttered toast.” She tells me and I shoot her a humorous look as I get the things out of the fridge.

“You got it your majesty.” I say sarcastically.

“A bit formal, but I’ll take it.”

My eyes look towards the door to find Tony standing there in red flannel pants and a black tank top. “And a good morning to you too, Tony.” I greet him and he grins at me, walking over and wrapping an arm around my waist to peck my cheek.

“Hey, Red. You’re a lovely sight this morning.” He charms, but I still smile. He’s cute.

“Mm. Hope you like eggs and sausage patties because that’s what I’m making.” I reveal and watch his brown eyes light up.

“I’ll love whatever you give me. Especially if it isn’t burnt.”

“Hey, I’m actually a good cook. Nothing will be burnt.”

Tony laughs and pecks my cheek again. “Then I look forward to it. Natasha.” He inclines his head towards her before turning around and making a cup of coffee. Natasha watches my every move with a small smirk on her face and I’m certain she bought these ingredients as well. She’s making sure she knows everything going into this food. Assassin habits die hard. I get out the pans at Natasha’s instruction and pop up to find a steaming cup of coffee beside the stove. I glance at Tony and he shrugs. “Some milk and a little sugar. You don’t seem the sweet coffee type.” Tony gestures to Nat who also now has her own coffee that is a horrifying toffee color.

“Thank you, Tony.” I tell him, a little surprised. My first sip is delicious and I’m even more surprised he got it right. I hum happily and get back to work. Tony and Natasha start up a quiet conversation as Tony leans back on the counter behind me and the sound is nice to cook to. This is the calmest I’ve been in a while.

“So, we’re getting breakfast because you beat Red in a fight? Damn, I would’ve loved to see that.” I roll my eyes at Natasha. She knows I’ll never admit I lost because Bucky’s fucking bare chest. “Cap.” Over the sizzling in front of me I hear Tony greet Steve and I look up to see Tony handing him a cup of coffee.

“Morning, Steve.” A soft smile is already on his face as he looks over the scene and he looks like he’s already been running.

“Morning.” He gestures his head to everyone before walking over beside me and surveying what I’m cooking. “Heard there was a little bet this morning. Lost?” He asks me and I sigh, knowing Bucky must’ve told him. Natasha’s smirk only grows as she sees me struggle to confirm.

“Barely.” I reply and meet Nat’s green eyes. She hums and shakes her head slightly with mirth. When I look back at Steve I notice he has it in his eyes at well. Must make him happy to see the team mingling without fists being thrown. Yet, anyway.

“Would’ve liked to see you in action, Rosalie.” Steve tells me with interest in his eyes. “I’ve heard it’s something.” A little challenge rises in his eyes and amusement creeps into mine.

“Uh-huh. You trying to pick a fight with me, Steve?” I tease and like the bright smile that settles on his face.

“Wouldn’t do that, punk.” We all turn towards the door when Bucky comes in, tank top now hiding that pretty chest from view. He shoots me a wink and I quickly look back to the food, putting everything on serving plates. “Natasha beating her is one thing, not sure if you could take her.” Despite resisting, a smile makes its way onto my face.

“Guess I’ll stick to kicking your ass then.” Steve acquiesces and dodges a weak punch from Bucky, taking the plates for me and carrying them to the table.

“You’re on your own for toast, everybody!” I announce and hand Natasha hers per our bet before heading to the table. Sitting down closest to the door and facing it, I watch interestedly as the rest sit down. Tony sits next to me first and scoots as close as possible, causing me to shake my head at him. Bucky sits across from me and I can tell this isn’t his normal seat since Steve hesitates only slightly before settling beside him with a little smirk. Natasha remains at the bar lording over us with jade eyes.

“Delicious. Please lose more bets.” Tony teases and Natasha hums in agreement from her tall seat.

“I don’t plan on losing any more bets. Well, unless losing is a better option than winning.” My eyes involuntarily flick to Bucky and he smiles lopsidedly. Well, until Tony puts an arm around my shoulders and bumps our chairs together. Then he has a frown on his face and slightly furrowed brows as he tries to hide his displeasure.

“I’ll start thinking of a few propositions for you then.” Tony winks at me and I purse my lips to keep a smile off my face. Suddenly, my outstretched legs are caged between Bucky’s and I look up to a mischevious look on his face. I lift my legs and he scoots closer, tightening his hold on me irritatingly. Giving up, I finish up my breakfast while listening to Tony.

“Are you working on anything new?” I question, turning to Tony’s melty chocolate eyes. They light up with excitement.

“I’ve actually just started on something new for Nat. I could show you, if you wanted?” He asks and I smile.

“I’d love to see it.” I tell him and he instantly hops up, taking my plate and putting it in the dishwasher as I try to extricate myself from Bucky’s death grip on my legs. “Let go, James.” I hiss and his grin grows.

“Beat me in an arm-wrestling contest and we’ll discuss it.” He proposes and sets his metallic elbow on the table. Rolling my eyes, I kick my legs up and hear the wood of his chair splinter.

“Let go, or it’ll be your balls next.” I threaten and everyone in the room stills, except Bucky. Asshole has the gall to laugh.

“Pretty sure you like my package too much to actually hurt me, doll.” His blue eyes dare me to do it, so I pull a foot back to the edge of his seat and shove it back instead. It slides, then falls backwards with Bucky soundly in it. Smirking, I finally stand and step away from the table and round it to stand over him.

“Don’t test me, James. You already know how that’s worked out for you in the past.” I tell him and he looks up at me with wide eyes, then lets his head rest back against the floor.

“I’m fine if it always ends up with you above me, doll.” A smile endeavors to coerce my lips, but I just shake my head at him and walk out. Tony catches up with me in only a moment.

Chapter Six

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addictedtofiction03 · 6 years

Text

The Only Thing That Mattered

Available on A03 and FFN now

Betty yawned as she finally closed her laptop turning to look at her clock on the table beside her desk shaking her head as read the time as 11:59 pm. Her throat felt a little dry, so she decided to go down the stairs to get a drink of orange juice before she attempted to go to bed and try to get some sleep. When she reached the bottom step of the stairs she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise up and a tingle shot down her spine as she took in how eerily quiet the house was and the soft light from the lamp seemed to intensify the feeling or was there a glow coming from the outside. She turned around expecting to see her mother in the living room drinking her nightly glass of rose wine but found the seat empty.

“Mom?” Betty called out but was greeted with nothing but silence. She bit her lip as she began to feel more uncomfortable as she could not see any sign of life in the house not even the sweet coos of her niece and nephew. “Polly?” She called out next, but the same silence returned to her. She looked toward the stairs but she knew that they were not upstairs as both of their bedroom doors were open when they were usually closed when they occupied their room. Betty shrugged to herself and turned her attention back to the reason she had came downstairs in the first place.

She walked down the short hall into the kitchen where she saw a flickering light through one of the windows in the door that led out to the backyard and she could not stop her body’s automatic response of going to that door and walked outside to see her mother and sister with a few other people she did not know standing around a small bonfire staring at the flames. She swallowed as she walked over to the rail blinking trying to clear her mind of the images her mind was clearly playing and gasped when she saw her mother and sister holding those sweet babies as they grinned to each other. Although, Betty was not really sure of what she was watching and she felt her breath catch as she watched Polly and her Mom turn the babies around in their arms before raising them up in the air as Rafiki did with Simba in the Lion King and before that could register in her mind she was reminded of the bloopers she watched on Youtube of the baboon dropping Simba over the edge as her sister and mother threw the babies in to the hot flames below.

Betty felt her eyes widen as her word froze in her throat as she felt the tears beginning to well up them as she tried to make sense of the horrible acts just committed in front of her. Betty tried to scream but her chest felt so completely tight that she couldn’t breathe. Then as the horror burned through her veins like a hot liquid the babies began to rise slowly into the air until they were floating above everyone’s head and Betty shook her head as she tried to get her eyes to work right because there was no way in hell this was happening in front of her. As her next thought began to appear in her mind, her mind went blank as she suddenly felt lightheaded as everything around her went black.

Alice and Polly looked up went they heard the door from the house open to see Betty walking through it. Alice sent a welcoming smile to her youngest daughter hoping that she would come down to join them, but that all changed when a look of terror washed over Betty’s face and her eyes became as wide a cup saucers and the next thing Alice knew Betty was falling over to the floor of the deck. She looked to Polly whose worried mirrored her own and Alice hurried around Polly hurrying over to stairs of the deck where her ears picked up the sound of Betty gasping for breath and felt her heart stop as her eyes landed on Betty as she convulsed violently on the floor.

“Betty!” She cried as she hurried over falling to her knees just above Betty’s head reaching down to lift her head off the floor and into her lap. “Oh Betty,” Alice sobbed as she stroked her daughter's clammy cheek as she tried to still her daughter. “Oh, God!” She whimpered as she looked around not knowing what to do. “Help!” she called out to the group of people standing around uselessly in her year and she saw Polly hurrying up the stairs.

“What happened to her?” Polly asked worried as she kneeled beside her mother.

“I have no idea,” Alice said shaking her head as Betty still continued to convulse in her lap. “Polly, you need to call 9-1-1,” She ordered to her daughter and Polly nodded as she jumped up to run into the house for the phone and after Polly came running out with the phone slapped to her to ear as she told the operator what was going on and trying to give the information that was being asked and gave their address for the ambulance driver. Alice watched as Betty’s eyes began rolling into the back of her head.

“Hold on Betty,” She whispered to her baby girl brushing back her hair and closed her eyes to try to quell the panic and fear that was rising to nuclear levels in her mind. “How long?” She asked Polly as she ended the call, but was answered by the echoes of a siren sounding closer and closer on the street. “Never mind Polly, just go let them in! Hurry!” She yelled at Polly who only did what her mother had asked.

“It’s going to be okay Betty,” Alice said looking down to Betty who was still gasping for breath but the convulsions had almost subsided and then the sound of hurried footsteps sounded through the kitchen and Alice saw Polly lead a man and a woman pointing the direction they needed. The paramedic dropped their bags as they circle around Betty and dropping to their knees.

“Ma’am, I need you to move back please,” the male paramedic ordered and Alice shook her head almost immediately.

“No, I am her mother,” She snapped at them and the man shook his head. “She’s my baby,” Alice told him in a softer voice.

“We understand, but we need a little room so we can work on her,” the lady paramedic said placing a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Can you tell us what happened?” She requested and Alice looked to Polly before looking back to the lady.

“We were having a bonfire with our friends,” Alice explained stopped short because even she didn’t know what was going on. “She came out on the porch and a few seconds later she passed out and started convulsing… I don’t… “ Alice tried to explain but stopped because she didn’t know what else to say and the lady apparently got that and nodded as she turned her attention to the girl on the ground. “Is Betty going to be okay?” She asked in a weak voice.

“Has Betty ever had a seizure before?” the lady asked as the other paramedic began taking her vitals.

“No,” Alice answered shaking her head. “None.”

“Is she on any medication?”

“Only Adderall for her ADHD,” Alice explained looking down to Betty who was now lying unconscious and Alice blinked back tears at the sight of her looking so small.

“What is the dosage?”

Alice began but the paramedic cut her off with his words.

“Her blood pressure is low,” He told the woman who nodded. “Pulse too.”

“What does that mean?” Alice gasped as she listened to the new information. “What is wrong with her?”

“It means we need to get her to the hospital as soon as we can,” He told her as Alice gasped he looked to his partner. “Liz, where is the stretcher?”

“Outside the front door,” She answered quickly as she began to pack up the things she was using. “We can just carry her to it.”

“What does that mean?” Alice asked again not liking the fact that they were telling her basically nothing.

“It means her vitals are low and she needs the emergency so they can further the help she needs,” the man told her as Liz gathered Betty in her arms lifting her up off the ground. “Do you want to go with us?” He asked her.

“Well that is a dumb question,” Alice barked at him. “Of course I am going with her.” She told him shortly and looked to Polly. “Do you want to come honey?” She asked her and Polly shook her head.

“No, I will stay here and get the twins to bed,” Polly told her and placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Alice nodded and gave a kiss to her daughter’s as she went to follow the paramedics who were making their way through the house only stopping to trade in her slippers for better footwear before turning around. “I will call you when I know something.” She called back to Polly who only nodded before walking out the door closing it behind her making her way over to the ambulance where the currently loading Betty into the back of and Liz held out her hand to Alice to help her up into the back and she took a seat on the bench only then she did close her eyes as the vehicle began its journey to the awaiting emergency room.

Ten minutes later, Alice found herself strolling through the halls of Riverdale General following the gurney that Betty was laying in that was now surrounded by nurses and a doctor asking questions and giving orders to each individual to do and then rounded the corner into an empty room where they transferred her to another bed. Alice stepped out of the way as many people were moving about as they worked on Betty and then Liz came up beside her.

“Mrs. Cooper?”

“Yes?” Alice asked looking to the younger woman.

“I hope she gets to feeling better,” Liz told her giving her a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Alice reply as she returned the warm smile. “Thank you for all you have done tonight.”

“It was nothing. Have a good night,” Liz said as she and the male paramedic left the room leaving her alone with the hospital staff.

“Alice?”

“Yes, Mel?” Alice turned around to see, Melanie, a woman who she went to high school with and a nurse that was staffed with the hospital holding up a clipboard and a pen.

“I just need to fill out these forms,” Mel said slowly and Alice could tell she was still afraid of her as she was way back when.

“Of course, Mel,” Alice told her as she took the pen and the paperwork from the nurse before she sat down in the stair to get to work on answering the questions that she knew by heart. She only stopped to catch her breath and to answer anything question sent to her from the medical staff and when she was finished she got out of her seat and went in search of Mel who was currently sitting at one of the workstations at the computer and walked over to hand her the board.

“Here you go,” Alice told her and Mel stood up as she took the board from her and walked off in the other direction. Alice took the moment to grip the counter as her thoughts were racing through her mind a mile a minute and then heard her name being called once more.

“Alice?”

“What?” Alice snapped ready to give the person hell for bothering her as she turned to see Fred and Mary Andrews standing in the hall with concerned etched on both of their faces. “Sorry,” She muttered as Mary stepped forward.

“Polly just told us what happened,” Mary explained. “Is Betty okay?” She asked and Alice shook her head.

“I have no idea,” Alice answered truthfully as tears began to fill her eyes. “She was just standing there and she just dropped,” she sobbed as Mary wrapped her arms around Alice’s shoulders in a comforting way as she held the sobbing woman. “I didn’t know what to do,” Alice sobbed as Mary ran her hand up and down her back.

“Start from the beginning,” Mary coaxed her gently and Alice nodded as Mary led her back to Betty’s room.

“Alice,” Fred began calmly causing both women to look at him. “Does Jughead know?”

Alice looked at Fred as she felt her eyes widen hearing her daughter’s extremely loving boyfriend who suddenly had no current idea of his girlfriend’s current state. “No! Oh my God, Jughead!” Alice looked to Mary and Fred just help up his hand.

“I will call him,” Fred offered, but Alice shook her head refusing the polite request.

“No, I can do it,” Alice told him as she reached into her pocket only to find it empty, but then searched her other pocket to find it empty as well. “Son of a bitch,” She sighed realizing that she had left her cell phone at home.

“Alice, I don’t mind calling him if you need to be with Betty,” Fred told her and Alice shook her head again.

“I will just use the payphone,” Alice said and when Fred went to say something else, Mary sent him a look before she dug into her purse to fish out the change in the bottom of it figuring that Alice had left the house without anything that she might have needed and pulled her hand out and counted the coins.

“I only have change for one call,” Mary told her as she handed Alice that change. “So you best make the call count.”

“Thank you,” Alice said sending Mary a thankful look. “Can you stay with her until I get back?” She asked them.

“Of course we can,” Mary answered as Fred wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder and guided her back toward Betty’s room. Alice let out a sigh of relief as went in the direction of the payphone and when she picked up the phone she realized that she didn’t know Jughead’s number and was about to hang the phone up and let Fred do what he had offered then a light bulb lit up in her mind as she sank the change into the machine and dialed the number she had only dialed too many times and listened as the ringing.

- - -

FP was laying on his side on the couch watching the latest sports news on ESPN debating on whether or not he should be going to bed but wanted to wait up until Jughead came home. He looked at the clock noting that it was past midnight which was odd for his son to be out so late because he was usually in by 11 or at least would call him to tell him if he was running late or not. He downed the last of his cola that he was drinking and reached for the remote to turn the television off when he got distracted by the sudden ringing of his house phone. He stared at it for a moment debating whether or not to answer it because the only people who called that number were teenage prankers, but decided to him their run for the money. So he hoisted himself up and walked over and pulled the phone off the hook hitting the answer number.

“You pranksters need to get in bed or your mommy is going to whoop your ass,” FP said into the phone but his attention was peaked when he heard his name being said by a voice that only belonged to one person.

“Alice?” FP said into the phone and then he heard the sound of sniffling coming through the line.“Alice, what’s wrong?” He asked as he downed the rest of his can of coke before walking into the kitchen to tossing the can in the trash can as he leaned up against the counter as the sniffling turned into quiet sobs. “Alice?” He asked as his gut was telling him this was no ordinary phone call.

“It’s Betty,” Alice sniffled before clearing her throat. “She’s in the hospital.” FP swallowed as her words sank down hardening his already uneasy stomach.

“Why what happened?” FP asked worriedly as gripped the phone in his hand tightly as he waited for her to answer.

“I am not sure,” Alice said and it sounded as if she was crying again. “She had some kind of a seizure and I was calling to let Jughead know, but I don’t have my cell phone or do I know his number.” She explained and FP could hear the hysterics in her voice. “I’m sorry to be calling so late, but I know Jughead would want to know.”

“He would, but Jughead hasn’t made it home yet,” FP explained as he reached over to snatch his keys off the counter. “Have they said what caused the seizure?” He asked as he pulled on his serpent’s jacket.

“No,” Alice explained. “I don't have any answers yet as we only just got here.” She told him. “I can’t get the image of her eyes rolling back into her head out of my mind,” Alice said breaking back down into sobs. “They said her heart rate was too low. I can’t lose her too FP.”

“We are not going to lose her Alice. She will be fine,” He said trying to reassure her. “Look I am on my way and I will get ahold of Jughead.”

“Thank You,” Alice said and he could hear some voices in the background. “Look, I have to go,” She said hurriedly. “The doctors have some questions that I need to answer.”

“Okay,” FP said as he let out a big sighed. “She will be fine Alice. I will see you in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Alice said and soon he heard the click that ended their connection. FP threw the phone on the counter and picked up his cell phone before making his way out the door and to his truck. While he was getting in his truck he was scrolling through his contacts on his screen until he found Jughead’s name and his the call button as he started the truck then pulled out of the driveway turning in the direction towards Riverdale General.

- - -

Jughead sighed as he watched the four paramedics stroll the two stretchers that were holding Dilton and Ben to the back of the two ambulances. He groaned as he heard his phone ring in his pocket what seemed like for the sixth time, but ignored them as he had been a tad busy trying to keep these two fools alive until help arrived. When he got his phone out of his pocket he felt his eyebrows furrow as he saw that he had six missed calls from his dad which was strange because his dad was always relaxed about him staying out late, but he noted that he was later than normal so he hit the answer button then placed it to his ear.

“I know it’s late Dad,” Jughead said as he sighed as he felt his body sag from the fatigue that now was plaguing it. “I am on my way home now and I will explain everything then.”

“That is not why I am calling son,” FP piped up and Jughead heard the sound of jingling keys in the background followed by the sound of a door closing.

“Where are you at?” Jughead asked curiously as he watched the two boys being lifted up into their ambulances.

“I am at the hospital,” FP answered and Jughead felt his heart jolt as his words.

“What are you doing at the hospital?” Jughead asked hurriedly as he scratched his forehead wishing he had a bag of chips or something. “Are you okay?” He looked up as he heard the paramedics yelling something to the other crew members.

“It’s not me, son. It’s Betty,” FP explained and Jughead winced as his head jerked around so fast feeling an icy chill wash over his being as he tried to recall the name his father had just said.

“Dad, did you just say Betty?” He asked his father in desperate need of clarification as he felt his heart begin to pound in his chest as many different and terrifying thoughts entered his mind. ‘Why would she be at the hospital?’ He thought to himself but forced his attention back to his dad. “Dad?”

“Hold on a second,” FP told him and listened to his father’s muffled voice and he heard the name Betty Copper for sure that time forcing more unpleasant thoughts through his mind as static began coming through from the other line.

“Dad!” Jughead yelled into his phone, but Jughead was only met with only more static which meant his dad had moved into the zone where no one got reception in the hospital and it was confirmed when Jughead heard a click disconnecting the phone call. Jughead pulled the phone from his ear so he could check to see if he had gotten any calls from Betty but they were all from his dad. ‘Why didn’t she call him?’ He asked himself and he let out a sigh of frustration before looking up to the paramedics who were beginning to close the doors.

“Hey,” He said running over to them. “Do you mind if I get a ride to the hospital with you?” He asked.

The paramedic looked up at him and looked him up and down through narrowed eyes before speaking. “Are you sick or injured as well?” He asked him looking slightly annoyed from the interruption.

“No, ”Jughead answered honestly.

“Then I am sorry,” the paramedic said shaking his head. “Only family members or legal guardians are allowed. You will have to find your own way, I am afraid.” Jughead swore silently to himself as he tried to come up with a better solution to the matter at hand, but there was nothing that came to mind as he was far out in the woods and it would take him too long to get there by foot and that was not an option. So, Jughead decided to try again.

“There is a family emergency and I need to get to the hospital right away,” Jughead said urgently and the paramedic started shaking his head no in an annoying way and he had to fight back the urge to yell at the man. “It is someone that really matters to me. Can you please help me this one time?” He asked causing the paramedic to stare at him and he could see him breaking, so he crossed his fingers. “Please?” He begged adding a little bit more urgency into his tone and the paramedic sighed before nudging his head signaling him to come on up.

“Thank you!” He uttered as he climbed on board of the bus and took a seat on the bench as the guy closed the door and the ambulances began rolling through the trail letting out a painful groan as the vehicle rolled over bumpy tree roots and he turned back to his phone to see if he could get his dad again, but only got a busy signal.

“How long until we get to the hospital?” Jughead asked leaning on his knees as the need to pace became rampant in his body but it would probably end with him walking to the hospital so he stayed seated.

“Not too long,” the man said as he began tending to the boy on the stretcher. “Ten minutes to fifteen at the most? Depends on traffic as well.” Jughead sighed as he closed his eyes not at all pleased with that answer.

After the longest ten minutes of Jughead’s life, the ambulance came to a smooth halt and the medic started moving around gathering up the supplies placing them on the bed before turning to Jughead as the back doors open to give him instructions on where he needed to go, but once Jughead’s feet hit the pavement he sprinted towards the automatic doors ignoring the shouts coming from behind him as he entered the extremely bright hallway with glassy looking tiles weaving around that people who stood still or weren’t moving fast enough. He only stopped when he realized that he had no idea where he was going or where Betty’s room and he looked around to ask but there was no one in sight like there had been only moments ago and noted that the hospital had gone eerily quiet. Jughead shook his head as he hurried along finally reaching the corridor that housed the patient rooms looking in each one to hoping to see Betty’s face but she wasn’t in any of them which caused his heart pound even harder in chest as he rounded the corner to feel hand clutch his shoulders as he realized that he had crashed into the chest of his father.

“Woah Woah Woah!” FP told him as he took a hold of Jug’s shoulders to prevent him from falling over from the impact.

“Where is she?” Jughead demanded while his head was whipping around to each room he could see from where he was standing and felt his chest tighten as she was not in any of those rooms. Jughead felt the room spin around him and he realized that his panic had turned into a gripping fear that latched on to his soul.

“Easy there Son,” FP said anxiously as he looked over his son noting that there was dirt on his face, but there would time to question what his son had been up to moment ago later.

“Where is she?” Jughead asked again not caring if he sounded rude or not, but he needed to see Betty and he needed to know she was okay and he knew that his voice was shaking as he could tell his fear had spilled over into his voice.

“She is just down the hall,” FP told him pointing his thumb over his shoulder and Jughead shot around his dad in search of his girlfriend and heard his dad say something to him but just kept on going until he turned the corner only to find it was a dead end. “I thought you said her room was this way?” He asked turning around to look at his dad who had followed him.

“I did, but you weren’t listening when I told you to take a right,” FP told him and Jughead started to make his way towards it but FP placed a hand on his chest to stop him from going any further. “Hold on,” FP told him and Jughead shook his head almost immediately.

“I want to see her Dad,” Jughead told him lowering his voice as a nurse walked came out from a nearby room and tosses them a dirty look telling him that he was being too loud then a question popped up into his mind and one he still didn’t have an answer too. “What happened? Why is she even here?” He asked his father.

“Alice told me she had a seizure at home tonight,” FP explained as he moved to lean up against the wall next to Jughead watching a group of nurses walked by them talking amongst themselves.

“A seizure?” Jughead questioned as he began pacing in front of his father because he was just too wired to sit still when all he wanted to was to see his girl. “Do they know why?” He asked next as moved lifted hand tugging on his lip.

“Not yet,” FP answered. “They are still running tests to see what the problem is. Have you noticed anything off about her?” He asked and Jughead shook his head. “Anything out of the norm?”

“I know she hasn’t been sleeping well and she has been working nonstop on Archie’s case which she has been super stressed about, but I mean we all have been,” Jughead told him. “When I dropped her off at home, she said she was going to go straight to bed.” He added and FP nodded.

“That right there could have done it,” FP shook his head. “Stress has a way of fucking your body up and knowing how Betty is, well she could have just overdone it.” Jughead nodded feeling a little guilty because he knew that she was working way too hard and now it sounded as if the all her hard work over the summer was beginning to take a toll her making him wish that he had said something to her and maybe this could have been prevented.

“This is not your fault,” FP said knowingly causing Jughead to glare at his dad. “So, don’t be over there beating yourself up about it because there was no way of knowing that this was going to happen.” FP finished.

“I want to see her,” Jughead told his dad and FP nodded as he placed a hand on to his shoulder.

“You will, but Betty is not in her room at the moment,” FP explained. “They took her down for a head scan so it will be a little while before you can.”

“A head scan?” Jughead asked worriedly. “I thought that you said that she had a seizure so why would she need a head scan?”

“Well, she was on her deck when it happened,” FP answered. “She must have hit her head really hard when she fell because they found and bump so they want to make sure that she doesn’t have a concussion or that the seizure didn’t cause any brain damage.”

“She’s going to be okay right?” Jughead asked as he felt a thickness build up in the back of his throat as he listened to the trauma Betty had gone through.

“They say she is going to be fine, but she still hasn’t woken up,” FP told him and Jughead swallowed against the thickness in his throat as the words registered in his mind. Jughead started to say something else, but was cut off at the sound of stretcher being wheeled through the hallway and looked up to see a bed being pushed around the corner with Alice Cooper following behind it and when her eyes met his she signaled to him with her hand telling him to come on over to her.

- - -

(Going back to where FP leaves Alice to go call Jughead again)

Alice turned away from the door as FP took a few steps back before turning around to where the transport team was moving around the bed getting it ready to roll. The younger girl turned to look at Alice.

“Did you want to come with her?” She asked Alice and Alice nodded her head not wanting to be away from her daughter.

“Yes I do,” Alice told the orderly and the orderly nodded as Alice walked out of the room and waited for the bed to leave the room. Once they had left she hurried up her pace to where she was walking beside her daughter’s bed as they walked through a series of double doors that needed badge scans and felt her heart jump for joy when she heard the most beautiful voice she had ever heard as they arrived at the testing room.

“Mommy?”

“Oh, Betty!” Alice sighed as she reached down to take her daughter’s hand.

“What happened?” Betty asked in a confused voice blinking as she looked around the room. “Where am I?

“You had a seizure baby,” Alice told her in a soft tone. “You are at the hospital.” She told her and watched as Betty’s eyes widen knowing that her daughter had a fear of hospitals.

“Can we go home?” Betty asked her in a small voice. “I want to go home.”

“We will soon, baby,” Alice told her as she reached down to stroke her cheek. “But first we need to make sure you are okay.”

Betty stared at her for a moment as she became more aware of her surroundings. “Where’s Jughead?” She asked and Alice smiled as she expected to hear those words coming from Betty once she had woken up, and she was not blind to that fact that Jughead Jones was her daughter’s rock in the time of need.

“He will be here soon,” Alice promised and the orderly that had been pushing Betty’s bed walked over to Alice as two technicians surrounded Betty’s bed with warm comforting smiles.

“You will need to follow me while they do the tests,” the orderly told her and Alice only nodded as she followed the girl to a room with windows to where she could still see Betty as they moved her over to the large round machine.

Soon enough the test was finished as soon they were taking the same journey back to Betty’s room in the emergency room and Alice held her hand all the way back.

“I want to see Jughead,” Betty told Alice and Alice nodded to her daughter.

“Okay, Honey,” Alice replied as she let go of Betty’s hand as the hallway had narrowed a bit and soon she was following behind and as the bed was turning the corner two figures caught her attention just as they too looked up and one of them was the person her daughter was repeatedly asking for. Alice wanted to smile as she saw the worried etched on Jughead face and waved her hand at him tell him to follow her no could she ignore the relief washing over Jughead’s face as he made his way over to her.

“Is she okay?” Jughead asked her and Alice bit her lip as she heard the quakiness of Jughead voice and nodded.

“She is going to be fine,” Alice told him and nodded her head. “Go on in and see her. She has been asking for you. The third room on the right.”

Jughead sent her a thankful smile before walking down the hall counting three doors turning when he reached the right one and was met by a glare from the orderly.

“Are you family?” the orderly asked and before he could answer he heard Betty’s soft voice.

“Yes, he is,” Betty told her causing the orderly to turn and look at her suspiciously. “I could get my mother to tell you if you don’t believe me,” Betty added and Jughead bit back a laugh as he watched the orderly’s eyes widen and she shook her head then hurried out of the room with a quick pace. Jughead turned around to see Betty laying back in the bed with her hand covering her mouth as she giggled.

“Your mom really does scare everyone in this town,” Jughead joked as he walked over taking a seat in the chair beside the bed.

“I know,” Betty nodded. “But sometimes it has its advantages.” She giggled as Jughead reached up to take her hand before looking up at her face taking in her soft green eyes as she gazed at him lovingly something he was afraid of never seeing again tonight.

“Jug,” Betty sighed as her smile fell from her face as her tired eye filled up with tears. “I think I am actually going crazy Jug.” She said as using her free hand to wipe away the tears before they fell down her paler than normal cheeks. “I literally saw my mom and Polly throw the babies into the fire.”

“Fire?” Jughead asked as he leaned forward placing his arms on the bed beside her but making sure to lace his fingers through hers because he didn’t want to let her go just yet.

“My mom and Polly were having a bonfire of some sort and they were chanting something,” Betty explained as she looked back down to Jug who was watching her so intently that it caused her heart to pound twice as fast. “The next thing I know they were tossing them into the flames and then they were floating,” Betty said as she recalled what she saw and it even sounded crazy to her. “Yup...I am going crazy” She closed her eyes.

“Hey,” Jughead told softly as he tightened his hold on to her hand. “You are not going crazy, Betts.”

“Are you sure?” Betty asked him with wide eyes. “Because what I am telling you is the sign of someone losing their mind.”

“You probably just hallucinated which was probably brought on by the seizure,” Jughead told her assuringly and brought her hand up to his lips pressing a soft kiss to her skin. “Hallucinations are common right before seizures, so you are not going crazy.”

“You promise?” Betty asked him looking at him with big green eyes and Jughead felt himself smiling as he nodded.

“I promise,” Jughead told her softly and Betty smiled at him before scooting over patting the empty space beside her on the bed and not being able to deny her anything he got up out of the chair taking the spot beside her and she lifted her head up so he could wrap his arm around shoulders as she turned to her side so she could lay her head on his chest and felt her eyes grow heavy as she listens to the beat of his heart like it was her very own lullaby and smiled as she felt him pressed his lips to her forehead. “You scared me tonight,” He whispered into her hair the feel of his breath created waves of comfort that washed over her and down her spine.

“I’m sorry,” Betty murmured as her eyes grew heavier by the second. “I will buy you a week's worth of milkshakes at Pops to make up for it.”

“Hmm, how can I pass up an opportunity like that?” Jughead chuckled and she loved the way it vibrated in his chest and he brought his finger up to her chin lifting it up and she forced her eyes open so she could see those baby blue eyes she loved so much as he leaned down. ‘You promise?” He asked against her lips.

Betty smiled against his lips as she nodded. “I promise,” She whispered as he sealed his lips over hers in a kiss that said everything that needed to be said and to them, it sealed in their love and that was the only thing that mattered to them.

- - -

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