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writing-in-april · 3 years

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Green with Envy

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer gets green with envy over something reader can’t control angering reader- hot and heavy makeup sex ensues.

A/N: hey guys 🥺 this is my sixth fic for my 1250 follower celebration and this is a day late- thank you to everyone who was super nice and considerate about me pushing this off till today- I was having a super hard time emotionally last night and I needed some time to myself. Again thanks so so much- this is based off of a combination of this request and this request for jealous Spencer. Also part two to Dr. Jekyll will be out tonight or tomorrow depending on if I can finish it- still a little bit behind schedule from me pushing this off last night. Thanks for reading 🥺

Warnings: 18+, Someone’s harassing reader at work, Spencer is a jerk at first I promise he apologizes, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (F receiving)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k

“Could you go and check case evidence? And bring the detective with you.” Hotch had approached me, giving me orders for the next step to take in the team’s investigation. I accepted them with no discernible dissent in my voice towards Hotch, even though I would have rather stayed with Spencer working on the geographical profile. Especially since the detective had not taken my subtle hints of turning him down when he flirted with me. Unfortunately like many of these instances it was just easier to keep my mouth shut rather than cause problems with the police department we were liaising with. Though I still did know if I’d I had told Hotch he would’ve understood and changed it with a drop of a hat. it was still just easier to not say anything and power through the case, however sad and disappointing it was.

The detective had been hot on my heels ever since we had touched down here. At first it had been endearing and I just carefully let him down, saying a simple no to coffee.

I was sure he got the impression that if he ‘convinced me’ more he’d get me to say yes. I hadn’t told him until later that I had a boyfriend because it hadn’t been his business. I had only told him with a snippy tone in frustration when he would not let up. Unfortunately for me again he seemed to take it as a sign of ‘playing hard to get’ and did not stop his pursuits. I should probably tell Hotch about it before I punch him in the nose.

I was frustrated and annoyed, plus basically every other negative feeling in the book. I just wanted to be alone, or with Spencer.

When I finally got time to slip out of the room for a breather I scampered my way over to where my boyfriend was as he always gave me some sort of solace.

Unfortunately, it seems like the universe was against me this week.

Spencer’s eyes usually held not one ounce of anger, especially not towards me. When he flashed me a glare I got a little angry myself. What had I done to face the wrath of the genius? His demeanor towards me wasn’t doing anything to squash my bad feelings as it normally did, right now it was just fueling the flames.

I decided to just ask him upfront after a third glare was flashed in my direction instead of dancing around the issue any more, we did have a job to do, “Hey- Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His tone was clipped and sharp, sharp enough that it felt like it could cut me.I wouldn’t have been that surprised if it did. It was obvious that ‘nothing’ was not true, there was obviously something going on.

I decided to ask again just to be sure, though there was definitely a possibility I was going to be snapped at again, “Are you sure?”

The harsh glare I was given was more piercing than the previous ones, cutting me deep.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Was whispered shouted at me along with the glare. It took every fiber of my being not to snap his head off even harsher than what he had done to me. Blinking back tears I got up and stormed off, completely done with the day- with this case. I just wanted to put this case behind me, putting it in the files to never be thought about by me again.

—

When we got to the hotel, after we were finished for the day, there was an eerie silence that fell over us. The silence only held for a moment as we stared at each other. I wasn’t going to speak before he was and if it wasn’t an apology I didn’t know if I had the energy left in me to say anything back.

I had ended up telling Hotch what had been going on with the detective, it had become too much for it to be reasonable to brush off (though in a perfect world brushing off someone like that wouldn’t be a reality but that’s just a daydream of mine I guess)

I stood at the other side of the room for a minute waiting to see if he’d say anything or if we’d be dancing around each other like this for the rest of the night.

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts and sat down on one of the beds in the room. I wondered also if I’d be slipping into the second untouched bed by the window tonight.

“I-I’m so sorry.” My only response at first was a slight hum from the back of my throat while I processed my own thoughts. He seemed sincere, I wanted to believe he was sincere that is.

“Sorry for what?” On the ride back to the hotel, once my irritation towards his attitude had somewhat satiated in the cool silence of the car, I had figured out what he had been bothered by. Spencer wasn’t all that hard to read once I got to know him. However, I wasn’t going to provide the reason for it, I still wanted to hear the reasoning from his own mouth.

“I was envious- jealous of you and the detective today.”

“You were envious?” Being green with envy wasn’t something that Spencer had ever expressed in our relationship before. Being envious- or jealous as most people would call it could be something to be played with in a relationship. It’s an emotion to be delicately handled otherwise the relationship could be filled with possessiveness and aggression.

Spencer was for sure out of line earlier today, he was certainly right when he said I’m sorry.

But, since he had said sorry and that I could tell he was sincere, maybe there was still a chance to play with the delicate emotion in a way that would not crack the foundation. Plus the added fact that I didn’t need to ask for an apology was comforting. There was no need for a fight when the person at fault admitted it. And, in time I’m sure when our relationship has had more time to build a larger foundation, those feelings of envy would not be so easily provoked— unless of course if it was time to play with those delicate emotions.

“Y-yeah, I was getting mad that I wasn’t the one that you were with today. A-and- I also didn’t like that the detective wouldn’t stop flirting with you…” His stuttered apology wasn’t what I was totally paying attention to, though don’t get me wrong I did appreciate it. What I was focused on was how much I wanted to claim him, to show him how much I was just as much as he was mine.

“Well, I’m glad you apologized, I accept it and I understand where you were coming from- plus the case hasn’t been easy on any of us. Just don’t ever do something like that again, please.” Spencer’s shoulders slumped from a sigh and an added nod, relaxing from my words after being tense with anxiety. Sauntering over to him after I had accepted his apology with one plan in mind made my panties wet with anticipation. When I straddled his lap his eyes blew wide, not expecting these turn of events. I grabbed the back of his hair, not too harshly, just enough to get a firm grip to tilt his hair back while I spoke into the shell of his ear, “And, now I’d like to show you how much I belong to you— and it’s just as much as you belong to me.”

Instead of getting an intelligible response from Spencer all I got was a moan, not that I was complaining. While I captured his lips in a breathless kiss I began to grind my hips down onto him in slow circles, giving him a taste of what’s to come.

He surrendered to my dominance in the kiss almost immediately, letting me guide him in any way I wanted him to go. As I rocked my hips over the bulge in his slacks I could feel it grow harder underneath me, I couldn’t wait to free it from its confines. I made sure to mark up his neck with as many hickies that made me satisfied- plus I let him give a few to me as well.

His submission underneath me wasn’t something that I was unused to. This time seemed to be a little different however.

I couldn’t place my finger on what exactly was different, maybe it was that we were so desperate for each other that the clothes practically melted off- which was a lot quicker than how we normally took our pace.

“Can I show you how good I can be for you, Miss?” His eyes were wide and begging, there was no way I could refuse a face like that.

That was how I ended up riding his face, with no hesitation in sight from him. All he wanted to do was to please and he was greedy for it. Even after I had started to pull up off of him after I had already had a shattering orgasm he pulled his hands down onto my hips to have me writhing on top of him im overstimulation. I could’ve punished him for it, but it felt too good to punish.

I was going to make sure he was ready too, possibly by taking him into my mouth for a bit, which I loved to do. However, his little whimpered out pleads about how much he wanted to feel me were just as hard to ignore as the previous pleas. It was hard to say no to a face that looked so pretty when he begged.

I sunk down on him slowly, at least letting myself relish in that feeling for a bit before Spencer would undoubtedly coax me into a faster pace because of how desperate he was. My own desperation wasn’t too far behind to be honest.

When I took him down fully to the hilt I only let myself feel the weight of him inside me for a moment before I started to roll my hips to create a rhythm. The pace I created was just as everything else up until this point had been, desperate.

While I bounced on him I had become unsatisfied with the amount of marks I had left on him before, diving into his neck to pepper them with hickies not really considering the fact that we had to go to work tomorrow. At least he still had that concealer he bought when we first started dating.

Seems that Spencer could not seem to think of it either as in between my ravishing of his neck and upper chest he’d also been getting in his fair share of marks. His were more centered at my chest, he’d been making sure my boobs were not neglected.

My second orgasm washed over me when Spencer brought up his fingers to rub my clit in quick circles. When my pace began to stutter in their movements as I rode myself through my orgasm while trying to help Spencer reach his, his hands came up to my hips to help aid me. Once my pleasure had partially abated I began to focus on his.

“Come on, sweet boy, you’ve shown me how good you are, now I want you to cum for me.”

His eyes rolled back into his head at my words, close to falling off the edge. I grabbed both of his hands interlinking them together and pinned them to the bed to help push him towards his release. A high pitched whine came up from his throat and he fell over the edge, cumming inside me.

We stayed together like that for a bit while we were both coming down from our highs. For a while there was only silence between us as we basked in each other's presence until I decided to make a joke.

“Are you no longer green with envy?” I simpered a bit at him, teasing him just a little as I started to even out my breath some whileI also traced all the marks I had left on him. I was teasing him about the events of today, but I’m reality that horrible detective was far from my mind- it was just Spencer and I. I’d have to see later while looking in the mirror what marks he had also left on me to claim me just as much as I had done to him.

His nose scrunched up at me and he giggled, his giggles were my favorite sound. When I first heard it I knew I would become addicted to pulling little giggles out of him as often as I could. In an uncharacteristic comeback through giggles Spencer then said, “No you kinda fucked it out of me.”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

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taehyungsgrowl · 3 years

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uhhhh duncan in prison angst 👀👀

hey 👋🏽

i’m sorry this took me so long to answer! but i did make a lil moodboard to go w it :•)

also i've written quite a bit of angst lately so this will be a little angsty, but also smutty.

long distance(?) old school version of sexting, really

hope y'all enjoy!

(yes, i did just discover the indention feature!)

warnings: angst if you squint, h*rny love letters, prisoners cat calling y/n, aaaand smut

word count: 3.5 k (i really don't know how this was supposed to be less than 1,000)

i don't love how this came out but the idea kept floating around in my head so i wanted to share!

Y/N didn't think what started as a harmless little experiment would show her just how powerful words could be.

She scrolled through row after row of photos on the 'write a prisoner' website on a boring evening just for something to do. And now each time she got a letter in the mail from him, her stomach would flutter.

Her finger stopped mid scroll as she came across the photo of the scruffy faced man with cheekbones carved by the gods and eyes clearer than the skies.

Duncan Shepherd.

Her eyes scanned his profile, learning that he was being held in a minimum security prison out of D.C for numerous white collar crimes, including bribery and extortion. He listed his interests as fine arts and finer wines. He'd be out for parole soon but was looking for a way to pass his time in prison.

Out of the hundreds of prisoners Y/N had scrolled past, none of them held her interest like Duncan.

It started off innocently enough. She grabbed a piece of paper from her drawer and her favorite pen and wrote him a simple introduction letter. Even if Duncan didn't seem like a dangerous or violent criminal, she felt a sense of adrenaline in writing him.

Duncan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I like to imagine you get a lot of mail sent to you. I read on your profile that you're a fan of the arts, I'd love to know more about you and what kind of art you enjoy. Truth is, I don't even know why I'm doing this, but figured prison must be lonely so I hope this helps pass the time.

I included a print of one of my favorite pieces of art to hopefully liven up your cell.

All the best,

Y/N

Y/N knew it wasn't much to start off with, but she had no clue what to send to a strange she knew next to nothing about. She printed off a print of one of Monet's Water Lillies and sealed it in an envelope with her first letter.

She let herself forget she sent the letter, not making any expectations. For all she knew, Duncan Shepherd wouldn't even reply to her. It would be hard to imagine that other people browsing the site would ignore Duncan's profile. His beauty, even in a mugshot was beyond compare.

But before long, she'd gotten a beat up envelope in her mailbox from none other than Duncan Shepherd. Excitement buzzed around her as she took a seat in her bed and tore it open.

Y/N,

Thank you for the lovely picture. I've got it hanging above my bed as a reminder of things I loved about my freedom. My mother has an original piece hanging in my childhood home. I remember staring at it for hours, enthralled by the beauty of it.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the print in your envelope.

You know what they say about great minds.

Sometimes I wonder if my family would have let me pursue the arts if I'd be where I am today.

But I am eagerly counting the days until I am able to stroll through a museum in Paris again.

I am dying to know more about you. Tell me what makes up Y/N.

At the bottom of the sheet, was a rough sketch of a garden Duncan had drawn out for her.

The letters continued like that for a few weeks, slowly learning little bits and pieces of each other through writing.

She'd learned a lot about him very quickly. He told her about how troubles with his app and his powerful family led to him going to prison. And he also told her about all of the things he loved to do. Much to her surprise, she had more in common with him than she thought she would have,

Y/N,

We've been writing to each other for some time now and I must admit, curiosity is killing me. Not to mention, I do believe it's unfair that you've known what I look like from the start.

Tell me, did my photograph have anything to do with your interest in me?

I'd love to see you Y/N.

Y/N re-read the letter over and over trying to justify the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of Duncan thinking about her. Wondering what she looks like.

Duncan kept every letter Y/N had sent him using them as a way to fuel his daydreams of the woman behind the letters.

Y/N dug through her things in search of an old polaroid camera she had. - she thought Duncan would appreciate the use of instant film. Even if she felt a little silly doing so, she did her hair and makeup and searched her closet for the perfect outfit. In some way, this would be like Duncan's first impression of her. Little did she know, she'd already made a huge first impression with him.

She settled for a deep burgundy silk tank with a cowl neckline. She tossed her favorite leather jacket over it and put on her favorite dainty gold necklaces, letting them rest above her cleavage.

She made a little set up by the window in her room, where the light came in just right for a photo, and propped the camera up on a pile of books before setting it on an automatic timer to have it snap the photo of her.

She stared at the photo, smiling - happy with the results.

Y/N sat at her desk, writing him another letter and including her photo along with it.

Duncan opened his new letter from Y/N letting the photo fall from the envelope. He picked it up and stared in awe. He couldn't even focus on reading the words on the page as he stared at her picture.

In his mind, he expected her to be beautiful but was blown away by her photo.

He kept it safe, tucked under his pillow. He would take it out every night to look at it until he fell asleep dreaming of her.

Duncan saw her face... eyes clenched shut... pouty lips formed into a perfect "O" as her thighs surrounded his face.

He saw his hands traveling up her legs... kissing up her bare stomach... kissing her lips.

Everything felt so real.

Duncan woke up in a hot sweat from his over realistic dream. He could almost imagine her taste on his tongue.

The moon shone into his room giving him a sliver of silver light and he pulled her photo out, tracing his finger over her face.

He turned on the little lamp at his desk and sat down to write her back.

I can't tell you the time, but I believe it's past midnight and I can't sleep without dreaming of you.

Forgive me if I'm being forward, but I can't get you off my mind.

What I would give to be with you now...

Y/N, I want to feel your skin on mine. I imagine what it must feel like to have your lips pressed against my own.

I can't stop myself from thinking of all the ways I want to make you mine.

D.S.

I want to make you mine.

Y/N kept going back to those words.

If it weren't for the prison bars keeping Duncan away...

Her daydreams of spending the afternoons sipping coffee and strolling through colorful cities with Duncan began to change after the last letter. Knowing that he wanted her sent shivers down her spine.

I can't stop thinking about you either... Especially your last letter.

I want to know all the ways you'd make me yours.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as well. I'm counting the days with you until you're able to get out and do just that...

Y/N colored her lips with her favorite lipstick and kissed the bottom of the page, leaving the perfect kiss mark on it.

She had unlocked something with Duncan with the last letter. Ever since he and Y/N started to exchange letters back and forth, he hadn't even bothered to open mail from other admirers. He only had eyes for Y/N.

Y/N.

Wish you could hear how your name falls off my lips as I chant it over and over when I bring myself relief - picturing your lips around my cock.

God.

It's hard to think clearly when you're on my mind.

You want to know of all the ways I'd make you mine? My hand would fall off by the time it took to write out each and every way I'd do that, sweetheart.

For starters, I'd love to skin my teeth into your skin. Leaving sweet love bites along your neck. Would you like that?

I wouldn't want you to worry about a thing.

You'd let me take care of you, right baby?

Maybe I'd tie up your wrists to make sure you keep still while I work on making you cum.

I hope you know I plan on keeping these promises the moment I get out.

Y/N touched herself as she read Duncan's letter again. His words making her pool between her legs. She dipped her hand into her panties and imagined everything Duncan described that he'd do to her.

Y/N wanted to do something special for Duncan.

She changed into a lacy lingerie set and grabbed her old camera again. Her heartbeat was beating fast with excitement. She held one hand up with her finger on the shutter and pointed it towards her bottoms. As she dipped her free hand into the waistband of her panties, she took the teasing shot of her hand inside her underwear.

Her cheeks felt hot as she took a look at the photo.

She took a few more. A few more teasing pictures - like the one she took wearing her leather jacket barely covering her - along with more R- rated photos.

She grabbed her small stack of photos and tied them with a piece of ribbon in order from least to most risque and added them to the letter she sent off to him.

Do you know what you do to me?

My letters make you touch yourself? What I would give to be able to see it in more than just your pictures. To be able to hear you for myself.

You don't know how much I loved your photos. You make my cock throb, thinking of just how much I want to fuck you.

I need to see you. Hear you.

How would you feel about coming to see me?

I can arrange with my assistants (the ones not in prison) to arrange a flight for you...

Please let me know what you think.

Love, D.S.

Love D.S.

"Shepherd. You got a call," the guard buzzed Duncan out of his cell and took him to the phone booth where the phone was waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting a call from his lawyer until later this week so he wasn't sure who would be calling him. Not like he and his family were on great terms at the moment.

Y/N tapped her foot anxiously on the other end of the call, trying to fight the nerves off.

"Hello?"

His voice was lower than she expected.

"Hi," she spoke barely above a whisper. "It's Y/N," she continued.

"Y/N? Y/N? Oh my god." Duncan smiled in a way he hadn't since he stepped foot into prison. "Your voice!" he laughed, "I'm hearing your voice! Wait, how? I - why? How?" he was at loss for words at the surprise.

"I hope it's okay. I called the office where I send my letters to and asked to call you," she bit her lip. "I like your voice."

Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. It's so good to hear yours."

They knew they didn't have much time but they were both so wrapped up in the fact that they were hearing each other for the first time.

"I, uh, also wanted to talk to you about your... proposal from your last letter... about visiting you I mean." she paced back and forth in her room. "I'd like that. A lot."

His cheeks would be hurting from how hard he was smiling.

"You've got it, baby. We'll make it happen, I promise."

There was a brief pause, "Don't know how I'm gonna control myself when I have you in front of me, princess."

"Two minutes, Shepherd," the guard called over making Duncan roll his eyes.

"I have to go soon. But include your info in the next letter and I'll have my lawyers work something out with you, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "And Dunc, it's so good to hear your voice too,"

"You'll call me again?" he asked, desperation almost bleeding into his tone.

"Yes. I promise."

"Good." he grinned. "I'll talk to you soon. Bye, baby."

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Duncan continued to have phone calls more often, but their letters never stopped. He got in touch with his attorney and passed along Y/N's information for him to follow up and help arrange a trip for her.

Before she knew it, she was being flown out in a first class seat to D.C.

They had her stay in a luxury suite the night before she got to finally meet Duncan.

The morning of, Y/N had piles of clothes tossed around the room as she searched for what to wear.

She'd known Duncan and his taste pretty well from his letters and phone calls to know what he liked. Y/N put on a baby pink silk mini slip dress that tiptoed the line between streetwear and lingerie, and strappy heels.

"Damn, baby. Haven't seen you around here..."

"Are you here for me?"

Along with countless other cat calls flooded her ears as the guard led her to Duncan's cell.

Duncan heard the commotion down the hall and he knew Y/N would be there any second. He frowned, wanting to take her away. None of those creeps deserved to even look at her, and here they were harassing her. It was his fault for bringing her there. He tried to tune them out, wanting to be okay when he saw Y/N.

Y/N was standing behind the guard as they came to Duncan's cell.

"Follow me, Shepherd. You both have an hour," the guard let Duncan out and he could finally lock eyes with Y/N.

She froze, finally seeing. His photo on the website did him no justice. The piercing stare of his eyes couldn't be recaptured on camera. His pink, full lips were even prettier in person.

"Hi," Duncan broke the silence between them. He was handcuffed immediately so he couldn't touch her the way he wished he could have right away.

But they were taken to the parloir where they would finally have some sense of privacy. Duncan's lawyers had worked out for this conjugal visit. They might have slipped the guards a few extra bills to ensure Duncan and Y/N had extra privacy for a moment. But Duncan had been a model prisoner (in one of the comfiest prisons in the country), so the guards had no reason to say no.

"One hour." he reminded Dunc, as he removed his handcuffs and left the room, leaving Y/N and Duncan alone.

"You're here," he closed the gap between them and embraced her. She smelled even better than he imagined.

"Duncan," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "I can't believe it's really you," she giggled.

"It's me," he pulled back, holding her hands as he admired her. "God, you're gorgeous."

Y/N couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Duncan and kissed him.

Duncan stumbled back a little before steadying them. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. He could feel her pulse quickening under his hand.

"God, can't believe you're here," he mumbled against her lips.

It'd be so long since he'd be this intimate with anyone - let alone someone he liked so much. He tried to push back the thoughts of the ticking clock counting their time and the cold industrial feel of the room they were in.

"I'm here... I'm yours," she tangled her fingers in his hair before kissing him again.

Duncan led her to the table, setting her on top of it. He towered above her, his hands on her thighs, slowly inching up her dress. She was everything he imagined and more.

"Open your legs for me," he instructed, parting them open.

He lowered himself until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. Her panties, if they could even be called that - they were a piece of barely-there cloth - were soaked. Duncan pressed her lips to the wet spot on her underwear and kissed it slowly, letting his tongue poke out through his lips and coat them with his saliva as well.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured, pulling her panties aside and putting his tongue on her wet pussy.

He lapped her wetness with his tongue, letting it massage her clit. Sucking and kissing her - watching how every move he made caused a different reaction from her.

Y/N tried to keep quiet, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

Duncan peeked up at her, holding in her sounds. He remembered the way the other prisoners hollered at her.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Please," he begged. He kissed along her thighs, "Want everyone in this god damn prison to know you're mine."

Y/N let the sounds she was holding in fall freely.

"Duncan. Duncan..." she called his name over and over getting closer to the sweet relief his tongue promised.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

Duncan felt her heels digging into his shoulder blades as she trembled, finishing on his lips.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing along her thighs.

Duncan stood up as Y/N watched him with her hands pressed on the table, leaning back slightly to watch him.

"What?" Duncan chuckled, slowly undoing his jumpsuit.

"Just can't stop looking at you! You're real!" she laughed.

"Sure am," he grabbed his shaft, closing the gap between them. "I don't know when we'll be able to see each other.. like this again," he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna make sure I make you feel good,"

He rubbed the end of his cock against her pussy. "Are you ready?"

"Waited so long," she whined, nodding her head.

Duncan pushed inside her, slowly. Savoring the way he stretched her open.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight," he panted, feeling her clench around his length.

He focused on the way he snapped his hips into hers, keeping a steady pace trying not to finish before she did.

But it had been so long. It had been a long time coming for this moment.

His head was in the crook of her neck, panting heavily. "Fuck, baby." he sunk his teeth into her soft skin. "Gonna cum," before he could finish his statement, he shot his load into her.

He stayed inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

Flushed Duncan faced her; embarrassed for finishing before he wanted to. "I'm sor-" she stopped him by pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss.

She pushed his hair out of his face, bumping her nose with his, "Nothing to be sorry for."

She had Duncan lay on the floor, using his jumpsuit to hold his head up, and then straddled his waist.

Her silky mini dress was bunched around her hips. Duncan found himself getting hard again as she climbed on top of him.

"Thought about doing this for so long," she kissed him. "Can't tell you how often I touched myself reading your letters... thinking about riding you," she sighed, positioning herself over his cock and sinking down.

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down his length. Her nails dug into his chest as she used it for support. The curve of his cock hitting her core made her eyes roll back with each roll of her hips.

Hot sweaty bodies had the coldness of the room forgotten.

Y/N grabbed Duncan's hands, intertwining their fingers, "Gonna.." she started, her legs shaking as her movement got sloppier.

"Me too," he grunted.

She felt Duncan fill her to the brim for the second time.

After a few moments of stillness, Y/N finally stood up, helping Duncan up with her. Her legs were shaky and Duncan helped her sit down.

She reached into her purse for a rag she brought. Duncan took it from her hand and got on his knees again. He cleaned their cum off her thighs, stopping only to give her small little kisses on her legs.

He heard Y/N sniffle and looked up, concern painted across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Is she regretting it? He thought.

"No! Of course not," she sniffled again, "I just wish... you could come with me. Leave this place with me."

"Oh, baby," he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Soon. I promise," he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And Y/N knew he meant what he said. Soon they'd be able to be together all the time, but it still broke her heart to leave and have to see him stay behind the metal bars.

tags:

@desertsunflower00 @celestialrequiem @dhampiravidi @ritualmichael @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @xavierplympton @langdonswhoreprobably @feralthoughtdump @wroteclassicaly @melodylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860

bonus: screenshot from a very good point drunk!anon made vkfsjk

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd angst #duncan shepherd x reader #cody fern #house of cards #hoc #i didnt know who would like to be tagged or not so lmk if i need to make changes to the tl #thank you!!!#submission

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ao3theskyisblue · 3 years

Text

We are lost (and we’re falling)

Summary:

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

A sound of a bag dropping to the floor. Keys being returned to their rightful spot. Slow footsteps moving closer, but TK didn’t take his eyes off the offending piece of paper, glaring holes through the thin material holding insurmountable value.

“TK-”

“When.”

Written for Day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek : Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?”

Read on AO3

“When were you going to tell me?”

TK didn’t get up from his spot on the couch, stock still since he found a certain piece of paper reciting words he wasn’t sure he had read correctly for the 10th time that night. So, he sat, staring blankly at the muddled words on paper, waiting for his husband to come home to get the answers to his innumerable questions.

His words had come out cold, short, and he knew Carlos didn’t need to be a cop to hear the bite in his tone.

The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly in the silence that followed, and he knew Carlos saw what he was looking at the second he heard a sharp inhale.

“TK-”

“When.”

TK looked up sharply, and felt his chest tighten at the way Carlos stepped back slightly. But they were going to have this conversation, because he had gone through the various stages of shock, disbelief, fear, anger, and now…nothing.

He wanted to understand.

“A few days before our one-year anniversary.” Carlos said quietly, and TK clenched his jaw, lifting a hand to run through his hair roughly.

“Our one-year anniversary when we were dating, or when we got married?” TK knew the answer to that when he saw Carlos tense, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Were you just never planning on telling me? Until what, I find out myself eventually? When it would already be too late?” TK bit down on his lower lip, hard, tasting the bitter tang of blood as his teeth broke skin. It wasn’t nearly enough to distract him from all this. He could see from the corner of his eyes as Carlos slowly took a seat on the ottoman in front of him, but still keeping a semblance of distance.

“I promise, I was going to tell you,” Carlos’ voice was still quiet, as if he knew the moment one of them raised their voices, it would only further escalate the conversation. “I just never found the right time.”

The right time.

TK couldn’t help a scoff at that, standing up sharply from his spot on the couch to pace the wooden floors of their living room, his steps arrhythmic.

“Tyler-”

TK let out an ugly sound, shooting Carlos a glare that could cut through glass.

“Don’t you dare. I am not in the mood to hear my name right now, especially when you decided to put it in a place where I absolutely object to.” He tore his gaze away from the coffee table, hands clenched tightly by his sides.

“How do we fix this?”

“Oh, so now it’s we?”

“TK-”

“No. I can’t–I can’t do this right now.” TK abruptly stopped his pacing only to violently slam his palms down on the kitchen counter, the skin of his palms stinging with a certain pain he couldn’t feel over the bleeding wounds of his heart. He could feel the tears burning like acid in his eyes, knowing that they could spill at any fueling word.

“Sweetheart,”

Clenching his fingers inwards towards his palms, he felt his nails digging against the soft skin, no doubt leaving deep crescent indentations in their wake.

“TK, look at me.”

The sound that ripped out of his throat was immediately covered with his hand, and TK furiously blinked back the onslaught of tears. He felt a gentle hand on his bicep, and forced himself to take in a few shuddering breaths before turning around, facing his husband. Carlos’ own eyes were red-rimmed, but he still had a small, albeit sad smile on his lips.

“Talk to me.” Carlos’ grip on his arm tightened, and TK swallowed back the sob that wanted to break free, instead taking in another deep breath and closing his eyes.

He could feel the anguish filling up the room in suffocating waves, but he had already found it hard to breathe the second he had accidentally found the will. His name was printed neatly underneath a paragraph of writing, taunting him.

TK stares at the space between them, knowing that there was a hand on his arm, but not quite feeling it.

He couldn’t really name anything he was feeling right now.

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

The words came out quiet, subdued, and TK wasn’t sure if Carlos even heard him. But then there was a warm hand trailing up his arm, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re my partner. My better half, the love of my life,” Carlos stresses, as if that would somehow alleviate the pain currently tearing him to shreds. “There is no one else I trust with this more than you.”

A hot wave of fury washed over him. TK stepped back from the gentle hold to level a glare at the man standing before him, who looked stricken. TK hardly ever pulled away from Carlos’ touches, feeling a pit growing in his stomach at the hurt in his husband’s gaze.

“You-you have no idea-”

“I trust you-”

“I don’t trust myself, Carlos!”

TK felt the man in front of him reel back at that, but still refused to lift his gaze. He knew what he would see – concern, confusion, but what he couldn’t bear to see was the ever-present softness that never disappeared no matter how bad their arguments got.

Swallowing thickly, TK twisted the gold wedding band around his finger. Ever since the day they promised each other forever, the ring had become one of his grounding sources. Not stopping his administrations, TK tried for a smile which only turned into a grimace.

“You are asking me to be the bridge between your life and death,” He started, clenching his jaw at the last part. “A single word, a signature, and I have the power to take your life. Don’t you dare make it seem like this is an easy decision for me, you don’t get to do that.” TK waved a hand towards the papers scattered on the coffee table, hearing Carlos suck in a sharp breath.

The ticking of the kitchen clock sounded louder than he remembered, and he tried to focus on the rhythmic ticking to try and calm his racing heartbeat.

It wasn’t working.

Carlos didn’t move closer, but his next words hit him like a bucket of ice water.

“You think I don’t know you put my name down for yours?”

The words weren’t accusing, nor were they harsh. Instead, they were stated as a fact, something TK couldn’t deny.

That didn’t mean it was the same thing.

“That’s different.” He says icily, but Carlos didn’t so much as flinch. His gaze never wavered.

“How so? From where I’m standing, you and I seem to be thinking the same thing.” One thing he’s found to be a little frustrating and also endearing was how logical Carlos was with his arguments. TK didn’t know whether it was something that came from working in law enforcement, but he found it hard to argue with reason.

They didn’t fight often, but when they did, it was a brief fuel to the fire, something that both of them knew that would be worked out in the end and that at the end of the day, they were just two men who fiercely loved each other.

“Because you-” TK trailed off, the sudden heaviness of his thoughts weighing him down like lead. Carlos frowned.

“Because I’m…?”

There were a few beats where they just stared at each other. TK could see that Carlos was itching to reach out towards him, but he knew that he had to be the first one to close the distance between them.

He wasn’t ready.

“When people leave, they take pieces.”

His dad took the first piece. It had been a small piece, but a piece, nonetheless. Something he couldn’t grasp – just watching from a distance as it slipped through his fingers.

His mom took the next piece, and a 7-year-old’s memories were surprisingly vivid. He still remembered the colour of the moving truck parked outside their house, the sound of the spluttering engine as it came to life, the look on his neighbours’ faces as they not-so-subtly watched through the window as his parents argued.

The pieces kept chipping away as the years went by. His stepmom. Enzo. Every new friend he made and grew to never speak to again, his first overdose, the dinner with Alex.

All those pieces left scars that he learned to bear better with time, but they never fully healed. He would never completely get those pieces back, but building himself to always strive for a better life created new ones he could nurture and protect.

And the person who carried the biggest piece of all, was the man standing right in front of him.

TK closed his eyes, knowing that Carlos could see the tremble of his lips as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “You have all of me. If I have to watch you-if I’m the reason you leave this world-” A single tear slipped down his cheeks, and he quickly lifted a hand to wipe it away roughly. “I won’t be able to let you go Carlos, don’t ask me to.”

Carlos remained silent. TK didn’t know how long they had been standing in the little area between the living room and the kitchen, but from the way one of his knees had locked, the dull ache pulsating through his leg in waves, it must have been a while.

He still couldn’t bring himself to sit down.

“You think it’s easy for me to think about letting you go?”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and TK warily lifted his gaze from the floor to Carlos’ eyes, which were filled with ripples of love and pain. He took a small step forward, but nothing more than that.

“Because let me tell you, it would be the single hardest decision in my entire life.” He says shakily, and TK feels his heart shatter at the tears that broke free. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last that he would see Carlos cry, but it never changed the fact that every time he did, something in him died a little with every tear that slipped down his cheeks.

He hadn’t realized his hands were trembling until he lifted them to gently cup Carlos’ face, thumbs slowly moving to delicately wipe the tears away. Two warm hands covered his own, and TK leaned up to press his lips gently to Carlos’ forehead. The hands covering his tightened when he leaned back.

“I thought the single hardest decision were those adoption papers we filed a few months ago.” TK says lightly, feeling the first genuine smile grace his lips since the start of all this when Carlos let out a wet chuckle.

No matter how many years have passed, TK feels himself melting all over again at the signature warmth in Carlos’ gaze that was surely mirrored in his own as they looked at each other.

“They’re on different meters.” Carlos responds, and TK’s eyes crinkle at the sides. His hands move to his hips, pulling him in closer.

“We can’t see the future,” Carlos says softly, and TK’s smile dims. “There will be many more uncertainties down the road, obstacles we’ll face. But I’m sure, with every fiber of my being, that I want to face them with you– to be the one to hold your hand until the end.”

TK forcefully swallows past the bitter tang in his throat.

The words wash over him in a dizzying warmth. Death was inescapable, and a constant presence in both their lines of work. It was one of the reasons they treasured every minute they got with each other, never knowing when their clocks would abruptly stop. And although the mere thought of the possibility of Carlos leaving his world tore him raw and hung him dry, he knew that if it truly came to that, he would want the exact same thing.

For better or for worse.

Lifting a hand to run through Carlos’ curls fondly, his other hand drifted to his pulse point, feeling the rhythmic pulsing against his fingers.

“I love you.” TK says instead, pulling Carlos into a tight hug that was returned with equal fervor without hesitation.

“I know. And I love you.” Carlos murmured, tightening his arms around him. TK closed his eyes, pressing his face into the slightly rough material of his husband’s uniform, absently remembering that he hadn’t gotten a chance to change when he got home.

Pressing a kiss to Carlos’ shoulder, TK looked up to see brown eyes already looking at him affectionately. He slowly trails a hand down his husband’s arm, smiling at the trail of goosebumps left behind in their wake.

“I’m never letting go of your hand,” TK whispers, his hand having travelled down to intertwine with Carlos’, lifting it up to press a lingering kiss to the back of it. He stares at the ridges and scars with teary eyes, every indentation – every mark ingrained into his mind.

“I’m going to hold onto you for a long, long time.”

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #911lsangstweek

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

the one with the proposal (finn x reader)

i would add a summary, but the title feels fairly explanatory - for @phoenixhalliwell - i hope u enjoy!!

warnings; language

- jazz xx

Finn had been in love with you since the moment he met you. Maybe he hadn't realised it at the time, but it made sense now.

It was funny, looking back - the first time you'd met, under the thick jungles of Ajan Kloss, both damp in sweat from the heat and hearts racing from the tense atmosphere. Finn had practically tripped and fallen on his ass in front of you; you'd immediately noticed the fact that he hadn't run away in embarrassment. Instead, he burst into fits of laughter and humoured himself, cracking a joke about how clumsy he was. He'd stood out to you since that moment, for his ability to make the best of a bad situation. It had been a saving grace during the war's worst moments, and he'd been the driving force behind the entire Resistance. It was hard to believe that a man who had been through so much, both in his past and present, could keep so positive. It started to make sense when you realised how golden his heart was.

Given his formative years in the First Order, Finn had never been introduced to the idea of soulmates. It was something that his friends spoke about - Rey, when she dreamily gushed about Han and Leia, or Poe on a weekly basis whenever he saw a hot person in the nearby cantina - but he could never quite get his head around the idea. How could there be one person for everyone when there were billions of people in the galaxy? Mathematically speaking, it was impossible that fate would let every person find their soul-mate. It sounded more like a drag than anything, waiting around for the perfect person.

Still, every time Finn saw you across a crowded room, or caught you smiling out the corner of his eye, a little part of him did wonder. Maybe you were soulmates - even if you got annoyed at him for leaving the lid up on the refresher, or if you constantly left your shoes in places that he might trip over them. Or maybe, just maybe, you were two people in love and made an effort. Two people who had worked for your relationship until it felt like you were soul-mates. Because things weren't perfect; sure, there were moments, but you had worked hard for it. You'd both prioritised communication, and tried to iron out your far-and-few arguments in mature ways. It wasn't always easy, and you did test each other's patience at times, but you were always, always sure in your relationship. Maybe your love wasn't perfect, but it was real. And it was strong and constant.

That was how Finn knew he wanted to marry you - because he doubted a lot of things, but he had never doubted you. After the war, you'd been through some of the worst things imaginable, and you'd never strayed from his side, or him from yours. When things had been really bad, and during the moments when it felt like the First Order were creeping towards victory, you'd made giddy promises to one another. That after the war, you would get married and settle down. They'd been day-dreams at the time, really.

But now that you had settled down in Coruscant, with a cozy little apartment and with stable jobs, Finn knew it was time. You were working hard training new pilots and he was dedicating himself to training as a Jedi; things were falling into place, and he felt ready for the next step. It was just a matter of working out how.

Naturally, he went to Poe for advice - which was funny really, because the man fell in love four times a week and had never proposed to a single person in his life.

(Unless you counted the drunk pact he'd once made with Finn about getting married if neither of them were wed by the time they were thirty-five. Ah, what could have been).

"Poe, I don't know what to do," Finn had stressed to him one day over a drink. As usual, they'd met at a cantina in downtown Coruscant on a Tuesday night. It was the one week they always set aside, in what Poe had colloquially christened guy's night.

"I consider myself to be a romantic," Poe began, "but it doesn't need to be anything big. What really matters is what comes after."

"Like our life together and stuff?"

"I was thinking more a wedding with an open bar," he countered, "but sure! After the wedding with an open bar, your life together is what's important."

Finn sighed. "What if they think I'm cheaping out?"

"C'mon," he reached across the table, squeezing his friend's shoulder. "It's you two - you could propose at a dumpsite and they would still say yes."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Poe shot back. "I don't think it'll matter where or when you do it. I think you'll just know."

Finn nodded unsurely - he wanted to believe Poe's larger-than-life spiel about just knowing. Because Finn was smart and intuitive, but even he wasn't sure he was intelligent enough to just know things. Similar to all the old tales of soul-mates and true love, he was just a little too much of a realist to believe it. It wasn't a testament to you or your relationship, because Finn knew with his entire soul that he loved you, and that there was very little that could change that. He just always put it down to sheer dumb luck; luck that you'd found each other, luck that you'd managed to work hard for such a sustaining and comforting relationship.

After downing a few more beers, it was gone 11PM. Finn rarely stayed out late, but his weekly catch-ups with Poe were the exception, and you had never minded. You and Finn trusted each other with your lives, so you it was rare that you ever doubted why he was out after dark. Provided he was there when you woke up the next morning, you didn't all that much mind if he was in the next room or the next planet.

Your apartment wasn't too far from the bar - a few blocks over, tucked away between an old diner and a land-speeder fuel station. When you'd first moved here, the place was just meant to be a go-between until you found yourselves a little more on your feet job and money wise. But, as the last two years had passed, you'd found yourselves becoming more and more settled. It was now filled with memories of the lives you built; it was the opposite of minimalism, crammed to the brim with pictures and blankets and random objects. Not to mention the lightsaber marks on the wall courtesy of Finn, that meant you would never get your deposit back.

The lights in the living area were off, save for a small lamp in the corner. You were curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket thrown over you. A book was cascaded just beside it on the floor - you'd obviously fallen asleep reading and dropped it.

Finn could have stayed in that moment forever; you looked beautiful under the golden glow of the old lamp, peacefully snoozing in the home you'd spent so long building for yourselves. It wasn't perfect - far from it, in fact - but it was yours. It was yours and his, and that was all that mattered.

Apartment aside, you were his home. You were the person who he felt most comfortable with; the person who he always wanted by his side, through thick and thin. Neither of you needed to get engaged or married to prove your love for one another, but those naive, war-time promises were still something he held close to his heart. You were his main support system during that time - you'd helped him adjust to life outside the First Order. Everything had seemed so scary to him then, and you'd guided him through it. Not to mention that you'd constantly encouraged him, nor had you ever once doubted him. Now, Finn wanted to give back to you - even if it was something as simple as fulfilling a simple promise he'd made a few years ago.

That's when the penny dropped for Finn, and Poe's voice rung in his head.

You'll just know.

It hit him like a ton of bricks - not that he just knew know, but he'd known this whole time. Since the moment he'd seen you in the sweaty forests on that cursed jungle planet, he had known. Not in a spiritual, soul-mate way, just in a...him way. In the same way he knew that the sky was blue and trees were green, he knew you were the one for him.

Quietly creeping across the room, Finn picked up your book and placed it on the coffee table. He knelt down beside you and ran a hand across your cheek-bone, gently smiling when you sleepily nuzzled against it.

"Hey, trouble," he whispered.

"Hey," you peeled one eye open, beaming back at him. "I missed you."

"I only left four hours ago."

"Mmm," you murmured. "Four hours too long - how's Poe?"

"He's good," Finn replied. "I think he drank a bit too much."

"Typical Dameron," you quipped.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you moved over slightly so that there was room for Finn. He kicked off his shoes and took the seat beside you, raising his arm as a signal to lean against him. You took it, flopping against his side and pulling the blanket over both of you. Even though the end of the day was closing in, the smell of his after-shave still lingered, just mixing in with the faint smell of leather from his jacket. It was a comforting scent for you.

"I have a question," Finn quietly said.

"Oh yeah?"

"I..." he faltered for a moment, trailing off. "I haven't really planned this to be honest, but this feels like the right time, and if I don't do it now, I know I won't find the guts to do it for a long time."

Sitting up, Finn shuffled so that he was facing you. He took your hands in his, tightly gripping them as he took a deep breath.

It was only natural that you were panicking a little. His statement had been...ominous to say the least. It could have been a proposal or a break-up. Heck, it could be something a lot simpler than that. That didn't stop your heart picking up in your chest.

"I love you," Finn began. "You know that, but I feel like I should really stress it - I love you, and I love this little life we've built for ourselves. I know it hasn't always been easy and I know life will throw more stuff at us, but I know that as long as we're together, it'll be okay."

He could tell that you were still half-asleep, tired eyes barely taking in his words. At the same time, though, it seemed like you were completely consuming them, hands gripping his even harder with each passing moment. You didn't know where it was going, but you liked the sound of it.

"I guess you know all that, though," he continued. "But I've been thinking lately a lot about all the things we spoke about during the war and we've done most the stuff we said we would, bar one thing. And it feels like an important thing, so...will you marry me?"

You gave him a watery smile. Maybe you'd seen it coming, but maybe it had blind-sided you too. That was the thing with Finn; he was both predictable and extremely surprising at the same time.

"Of course I will," you grinned. "Of course."

"I don't have a ring yet," Finn confessed. "I guess I got a little trigger happy-"

"- I don't care!" you cut him off. "The ring doesn't matter, okay? We'll get one at some point. All that matters is that you're going to be legally tied to me for all of eternity."

"Sure, that's one way of putting it," he gave you another grin.

Leaning across, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. You stayed like that for a moment, before Finn pulled you closer by the waist and into a tight hug.

It hadn't been the ground-breaking, romantic proposal that he had in mind, but it had been perfect at the same time. It was so quintessentially him; casual and sweet, and filled with love. Even more annoyingly, Poe had been absolutely right about the time and place and mattering - but of course, Finn was never going to admit that to him.

finn tags/everything tags: @crystalized-drumming @karasong @megmeg-chan

#finn x reader #finn x you #finn imagine #finn imagines #finn reader insert #finn fluff #finn fan fiction #star wars fan fiction #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fluff #star wars reader insert #star was

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harryforvogue · 3 years

Text

a pre lotus and falcon blurb because why not?

***

Harry follows Fleur into the elevator with his head down, and he’s quickly typing back a message to an email or text, nearly missing the door because of how distracted he is.

He walks in, hits the button to the highest floor (a whopping 14), and then glances up at her. Almost immediately, a grin spreads over his face when he realizes who he’s stuck in the elevator with. He steps closer to her, until their shoulders brush each other's. Her dark leather jacket grazes against his cotton shirt. She doesn’t want to admit it, but he looks really good in his short sleeve plain shirt and slim fitting jeans. And his cologne…

“Hello, beautiful,” he says, grinning. “Didn’t think you’d be here today.”

“We both work for the same government,” she says plainly. “Do you not want me here?” They were summoned for a meeting, probably to get some new assignments for the new year.

“I didn’t say that. Any day that I get to see your face is a great day. How are you?”

Typical flirtatious Harry. “None of your business.”

“Ouch. What’s gotten your panties in a twist? It’s eight in the morning. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining. Where’s your smile?”

“Shut your mouth before I make you.”

His smile doesn’t falter from her words. It’s unstoppable. She doesn’t know how badly she’s provoking him. He leans down and softly brushes his curls against her face, watching her jaw tighten. “What if I want that?”

“It’s so early. How the fuck are you this horny?” she growls, shoving him away with an elbow into his rib. He chuckles and stands back straight.

“You’re one to talk. It’s fucking freezing outside yet you’re wearing shorts. Who are you trying to impress?” He sees their reflection in the door, and her expression deepens. She fixes her jacket and turns away from him a bit.

It’s true that she dressed up a bit in hopes she’d see Harry. Of course she’d never admit that to anyone, not even to Jane who smirked at her at the breakfast table when Fleur made both her and her housekeeper some coffee. She suspects Jane knows of her conflicting feelings about Harry, but neither of them have ever talked about it, so it’s better to leave it unsaid, isn’t it? She doesn’t think it’s possible for her to come outright and say that Harry makes her feel something (particularly in her heart and between her legs), and it makes sense in her head to tease Harry by wearing this and answering his flirtatious comments with irritated responses because that’s the only thing that fuels him.

“Maybe it’s for myself, you dick. I’m not doing something just for a man.”

Harry leans over her and presses two buttons, levels 8 and 9, to bother her. “That’s a lie, Fleur.” He tries to press more buttons but Fleur smacks his hand away. “You never need to try anyways. Any man would be so lucky to have you.”

“Stop fucking doing that!” she hisses, pushing him away when he tries to lunge for the buttons. “You’re going to make us late.”

“We won’t be late. We’re already in the building.” He attempts to lean across her and press another button, but she blocks him with her forearm.

“Stop it,” she says gravely, eyes narrowed.

He steps back and rubs his hand where she struck him. “Alright, Fleur. Out with it. What’s the matter with you today?”

“Nothing. It’s just you getting on my fucking nerves as usual.”

“No, this is something more, and I want to know now.” She opens her mouth, but Harry catches her. “And don’t you fucking say it’s none of my business because it is. I’ve got to work with you, don’t I?”

“No you don’t. We haven’t been assigned anything yet, and I will personally complain if I’m made to work with you.”

“I’m a great partner. You’ve seen my records.”

“I don’t care about your records.”

“Are you afraid I’ll seduce you and you’ll fall in love with me?”

His smile is so painfully beautiful, it almost hurts her to look away, eyelid twitching a bit. “As if,” she scoffs.

“You know,” Harry says, leaning against the elevator wall with his arms crossed, “I don’t understand why you hate me so much. I’ve done nothing but be nice to you.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, I’ve stolen a few missions from under you, but it’s not like you haven’t done the same. I think we could be great if we worked together.” His sleeves tighten a bit when he flexes his biceps, and she forces herself not to stare too long.

The elevator doors open on the 8th floor and nobody walks in. They close and the pair continue their journey up.

“A few missions?” Fleur spits, fists clenching. “You stole the most important ones from me. Missions you weren’t even equipped for. I have the equipment for undercover missions, not you.”

“Love, I am just as equipped as you are.”

“Because you stole my missions and the government had no choice but to lend you machinery and weapons that you needed. Things I already had.” The ninth floor arrives and the doors open. Nobody enters or leaves, Harry’s eyes not leaving Fleur’s and vice versa. The doors close. “And don’t call me that.”

“Well there’s a reason the government found it fit to remove you from missions and to hand them over to me,” he says smugly, pushing himself off the wall. “Is that something to get mad over? Sure. But not at me. I did nothing to cause that decision.”

“You didn’t do anything to stop it either.”

He’s getting too close. Why is he still coming closer?

“Why should I have done that? You want me to disobey the very government that employs me?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you do that when you accepted missions that were projected to be mine?”

“Because you took mine first. If you had stayed in your own boundaries, you’d know that. I don’t care that we work for the same people. I will always be more deserving than you.”

“Deserving?” he muses, raising his brows, stopping in front of her. She tries to size him up, but she has a feeling she’s going to lose this argument. “If we’re talking about deserving, I think I deserve to be treated a little better by you.” His eyes become slightly darker. “After all, I’m very nice to you.“

“I don’t need to be anything to you,” she grits. “You have to earn my kindness.”

“See now I have a problem with that. Maybe I’ve stolen things from you. But so have you. And while you’re anything but nice to me, I will happily admit that I care about your wellbeing. You see that? We’re both at fault, but assuming you’re an angel in this mess? That’s called being a hypocrite. And good girls aren’t hypocrites.” He surrounds her with his palms against the wall around either side of her head. His voice drops to a low murmur. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Fleur?”

She’s always thought about how his eyes sparkle even in the dimmest of surroundings, but right now she’s focused on the curve of his lips and the deep voice that comes out of them. She leans back into the elevator wall, but she can’t move any further. Her head becomes a bit dizzy after hearing him say those two words and his scent makes her want to crumble. To her surprise, Harry slowly tilts his own head and begins to lower his mouth, however before he can press his lips to any part of her, her defense mechanism comes back in full force and she pulls out the knife she keeps clipped to her belt loops and presses it to his neck.

Harry knows Fleur. He’s known her for a long time, and the response she’s just given him is typical, so he’s ready for it. He swiftly reaches a hand to his back pocket at the same time he sees hers move to her waist, and his own knife presses to her cheek.

Her breathing is heavy while his is completely even. “You’re not as dangerous as you seem,” he whispers, pushing her curly hair out of her eyes with the flat side of the knife. “Don’t worry. I’d never hurt you. Unless you asked for it, at least.”

For a person who is rarely ever speechless, her mind is blank and she has no idea how to reply. There’s a fire between her legs, her chest rising and falling. Need spreads through her and if someone doesn’t stop her, she’s going to pull on the emergency button, grab him, and do unspeakable acts to him right in the middle of the elevator.

It’s a miracle that the elevator doors open, however it’s the 14th floor and one of Harry’s crewmen, Mitch, is standing there. He’s about to enter, but one look at the scene in front of him makes his eyes widen. “Um, is everything okay? What the fuck is going on?”

How are you supposed to explain two people against the wall with their knives on each other’s skin?

Harry blinks and then smiles, stepping back. His eyes don’t leave Fleur’s as he tucks his knife back into his pocket.

“Nothing,” he says, finally breaking eye contact to smile at his friend. “Just having a chat with my friend.” He steps out of the elevator and shrugs. “Nothing like a bit of friendly competition.”

“Fuck you, Styles,” Fleur growls when she finds her voice. She tucks her knife away and fixes her clothing.

Harry’s hand touches his chest as he takes a deep breath. “I wish you would.” He winks and turns away, calling back, “And how many times have I told you to call me Harry, love?

She’s going to kill him.

#i'm just not feeling great so i figured writing would help #i was trying to finish the harry and saf blurb #but idk i wasn't feeling it #so here this is #harry and fleur #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #enemies to lovers

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)

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Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened.

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!”

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze.

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker.

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that.

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,” replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

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A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

#exowritersnet #baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun au #baekhyun policeman #baekhyun smut #exo smut #exo angst #exo fluff #CB #mywritings

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girlsinoctober · 4 years

Text

Tell your man wait inside when i’m pullin’ up [e.p.]

emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: she wanted you and she was going to have you, even with him in the way

disclaimer: strong language, sexual nature, mentions of adultery, slightly nsfw scene

gif belongs to rightful owner

Emily frustratedly tugged at her hair. She had gotten off of work nearly half-an-hour ago and she had yet to pull out of the parking lot or even turn her car on for that matter.

Her most recent serial killer case had taken a much greater toll on her than usual; she was frustrated, angered, exhausted even and looking for some form of emotional release.

Any other time she would call you without even hesitating. But it was late; almost two in the morning. She knew that by now you were in bed with your boyfriend having his arm wrapped around your waist. She knew that you were probably awake, annoyed by the sound of his snoring, and staring at the ceiling in the dark hoping he’d turn away from you in his sleep.

She wanted to see you. She wanted you in her bed, wrapped in her arms with nothing but the thin sheet between the two of you. She wanted to lay with you, tangled up until it was hard to tell the difference between your two bodies.

She felt selfish, after all she was the one that had pushed you away those months ago. She was the one that didn’t want to get into a relationship simply because she was trying to adjust to her life back with the BAU from Interpol.

And now, she was selfishly stealing you for herself behind your boyfriend’s back.

She looked back down at her phone, sighing softly. Her finger was hovering over your name, her heart beating hard in her chest. Should she?

She groaned at the headache beginning to form behind her eyes before moving to pull her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it into the passenger seat before starting up her car.

“Fuck it.” She pressed your name, lifting the phone to her ear and letting her head fall onto the headrest of her seat.

It rang...a few times. Emily was just about to hang up when it stopped ringing and your voice sounded through the phone.

“Emily.” You whispered, clutching your phone tightly as you locked the bathroom door behind you and moved to sit on the floor.

“I want to see you.” She spoke sternly, she was trying to make it clear that it was urgent. If she gave your room to second guess, you would, and neither of you would be seeing the either other tonight.

She could hear you sighing through the phone and could already imagine the look on your face. “You know I can’t do that.” Your fingers tugged at the fiber of the bathroom rug you were sitting on.

“Yes you can, you know you can.” She huffed, you could tell she was in a mood and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Em...” Her car came to a stop at a light. “Don’t Em me.” You could feel the butterflies at the pit of your stomach as much as you tried to ignore it. She was rarely this stern with you. Something about the tone of her voice sparked a need inside of you, the same need that was already growing at the pit of her stomach.

“It’s the middle of the night Em. How do I justify to him going out this late?” You sighed, leaning your head against the tub behind you.

“You don’t. Fuck him,” she practically growled, “How about this; you stop hiding in the bathroom like I know you are and go tell him you’ve found someone that’s gonna take care of you better than he can.” You could hear her car taking off and speeding up.

You were going to speak up before she continued, “Better yet, don’t tell him anything. Just pack your shit and you can move into mine. I can have you settled in before the sun even comes up.” You knew she meant it, but she was also running on no sleep and her mouth got bad when she was tired.

“You’re wasting your time with him. I don’t even know why you give him the light of day. He’s a dead-beat who’s never done anything for you but fuck up your day, yeah?”

“Fine, alright Emily. I’ll meet you.” You had to cut her rant off, causing her to chuckle cockily, “Don’t pretend like you weren’t going to anyway.” You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Was all she added before hanging up the phone.

When she finally pulled onto your street, you were already standing outside your house with a backpack sling lazily over your shoulder. She pulled beside you, unlocking the car doors.

Her eyes examined you, she couldn’t help but bite her lip and the very sight of you. As soon as you caught her looking she diverted her attention to the empty street in front of her.

When you got in she didn’t say a word to you, just sped off with a force that caused the tires to squeal against the pavement. You would have yelled at her for it any other time. That would be if you hadn’t already made such a ruckus at home, screaming at your boyfriend, and practically waking the whole neighborhood.

You didn’t speak up, her body was tensed and her knuckles were holding the wheel so hard they were turning a ghost white color.

When she finally came to a stop outside her house, she shut the car off but made no effort to move or look at you. You looked between her and the house.

“What’d you tell him?” She questioned, keeping her eyes trained straight ahead of her. Your eyes landed on her, admiring the sharp edge of her tensed jaw.

“Exactly what you told me to.” You bit your lip as she met your eyes. You expected a smile or something, but her expression did not change. You couldn’t read the look on her face, mostly because there was no light to illuminate the car. You could only see a shadow of her features. “I want you.” You cleared your throat.

For a moment you could see her face, as a car drove past with its lights shining into her face. She looked tired to no end, like the life had been drained from her. You knew a case had to be bad to do such damage on her.

Before you had the chance to speak, she leaned forward and connected your lips. The kiss was powerful, it ripped the air from your lungs. Her lips worked against yours as if she was desperately trying to rid herself of her aggression.

She pulled you over the console into her lap with an assertive nature, gripping at the back of your thighs as to tell you ‘Don’t you dare move’.

One of her hands moved to tangle within your hair, pulling roughly. You let out a surprised gasp and she took the chance to deepen the kiss with her tongue.

It was all coming out, all of the frustration and anger. She was taking it out on you in the best way possible. You silently invited her to continue, cupping her face to stable yourself against her.

“Em.” You mumbled, letting your head fall back as she moved her kisses to your neck. Attacking it in the most possessive manner; it was as if she was claiming you in this exact moment. And you were not stopping her.

She tugged on your hair again, basking in the moan that fell from your lips. “You sound so pretty when you moan for me.” She mumbled, biting down on your shoulder.

A chill ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. When you looked down to meet her eyes the look she gave practically melted you.

She was looking at you as if she wanted you, she had to have you. And, without doubt, you wanted her just as much.

She continued kissing your shoulder, leaving marks as she went. Instinctively, your hips rolled towards hers and she let out a groan. She gripped you tighter.

“Baby,” she planted, looking up at you now. “Inside.” She demanded, her tone gentle now.

The two of you collected yourselves and shuffled into her house, her fumbling frustratedly with her keys and you giggling behind her. She’s not you a playful glare and swung the door open for you.

When you stepped inside the air felt different than your own home. It was warmer and everything smelled like her, it made your stomach flutter.

“You know...” she started, breaking the silence once again. “When I bought this place, I imagined you in it.” A blushed spread on your cheeks.

“I imagined you cooking breakfast on the weekends, me cooking dinner on the weekdays. This place had the exact stove and oven you used to go on and on about when you saw it on Instagram.” She chuckled lightly and you turned to look at her fully.

“I bought those towels you loved for the bathroom, I thought maybe it would make you feel more comfortable here. I even bought some copies of your favorite books to put on the coffee table.” You moved closer to get, placing your hand on her cheek.

“I only use the fitted sheet on the bed. Because I know you like to pile on blankets and the sheet gets lost on the floor so you don’t ever put it on anyway.” She leaned into your touch.

“I could see us when I bought this place. I could see myself fucking you on even surface in here. The shower even has its own bench inside.” It caught you off guard how her tone did not change at such a bold statement. But the way she looked into your eyes fueled your desire for her.

“I can honestly say that you’re the love of my life. And I’m sick of pretending that I’m not in love with you. I’m sick of leaving your house knowing someone else is going to take my place in your bed. I’m sick of acting as if I don’t know you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

She wrapped an arm around you and pulled your bodies flush against one another. Her face was so close to yours that you could feel the brush of her breath against your lips.

It was silent for a second, your eyes connected so strongly that nothing was going to have the power to tear the two of you away from each other.

Without missing a beat, you leaped for her lips. Emily stumbled softly before steadying the two of you. She kissed you with hunger and passion and love. You were sure she could feel your heart beating through the closeness of your chests, and dear god was it racing.

She guided you through the house and inter her bedroom, expertly keeping you from knocking into anything. That was until the back of your knees hit the end of the bed and she pushed you down with a soft ‘thud’.

She looked down on you, her lips swollen and pink. She searched your face, looking for permission which only coaxed a smile to your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere baby. I choose you.”

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djarinvibe · 3 years

Text

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: Okay it’s finally here! I’m so excited for this fic, I’m also excited for y’all to read this fic.

Warnings: MODERN!AU, none

Words: 2.2K

Summary: A new professor has been hired at your work seemingly out of the blue.

Master List

September

Dust-filled rays of golden hues shone brightly throughout the large teachers lounge as you sat there, sipping your morning coffee. The room was empty, save for your sitting figure. You typically got to work early, liking the quietness of the space before the other professors and staff would arrive. It gave you time to wake up, as well as prep for the upcoming day. You would do it in your classroom, however, you shared it with the night school teacher and she doesn't leave until it’s time for your first class of the day.

The school you teach at is a community college, but only a two year institution. It’s quite small, one of the smallest in the state, due to how lowly populated the surrounding cities are. You enjoy it, it gives you a chance to form personal relationships easier. Plus the simpleness of a small town has always intrigued you.

You moved to the low-populated city shortly after graduating and getting your bachelors degree just seven years ago. You got your job as the Film and Literature professor for both grades shortly after and wouldn’t change it for the world, having taught here for six years now. You love your students, and the curriculum, and you’ve also made friends with the other long-time staff.

The school year just started, actually. You're only two weeks into the semester. The beginning of the year always had a bit of magic to it. Students actually want to be here and teachers aren't so crabby. There's a collective togetherness felt across the whole campus for the first month or so, it's the highlight of the year.

“Here again early?” The voice of your colleague startled you, prompting you to spill some coffee over the papers you’d been grading.

“Shit,” You muttered, quickly trying to dab away the liquid, “Uh, yeah, I always do.” You chuckled, shrugging away the situation. You looked up to see who’d entered the room and smiled, noting it was one of your close work friends, Omera. The woman has worked here for almost as long as you, having started two years after. She isn't a teacher, instead she works in the office as a secretary. Omera also has a ten year old daughter, and is an amazing single mother. You've met her child, Winta, a few times in the past. You two became friends quickly, finding out you had many things in common.

“I prefer the extra twenty-five minutes of sleep.” She chuckled lightly, padding over to the old coffee machine. You always made sure to brew a full pot, as you were usually the first person to make any. You nodded towards her with a quieted snort, rolling your eyes, before looking back down at the work in front of you.

“Oh, did you hear? Dean Karga hired a new Astronomy teacher.” She smirked, pouring the coffee into a cup as she leaned against the cabinets. “I got a peek of him after his interview,” She paused to throw away the stir stick and trot over, sitting at the small table to join you, “And he’s cute.”

“I didn’t hear,” You raised your brow, “We’re two weeks into the year, why hire him late? Is he new in town?” Your curiosity peaked as you gawked at the woman for answers.

“I don’t know.” Omera shrugged, taking a sip of the hot liquid, “Could be. But anyways, the Dean is going to introduce him during the morning meeting.”

“Oh maker, I remember when he did that with me.” You chuckled, shaking your head. Every new member of staff got introduced to the others by the Dean. Greef tries to be a comedian during, but it always ends up being an awkward stand up set with no laughter and scoffs of pity.

“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Omera smirked, “Oh, and I heard he’s single.” She added with a tap to your arm. The woman knows that you haven't dated in a while; you just haven't been trying.

“Oh, I don't know…” You trailed off, shaking your head. You didn't have time to think about that. You had more pressing things to worry about like your job, and...

“Just see how it plays out.” The secretary pleaded softly, prompting you to finally cave. She gave a small cheer of delight, her excitement rolling off her thin figure in waves.

It took another half an hour before most of the staff finally arrived, just in time. The morning meetings always took place twenty minutes before the starting bell, leaving enough room to cover current topics and get to your classroom.

With the teachers lounge packed as tightly as could be, the Dean finally stepped into the space. Following behind him was, who you could only assume, the new Professor. You didn’t catch a great glimpse, as someone partially blocked your vision, but from what you saw you were intrigued.

“Alright, alright everyone.” Dean Karga’s voice dispelled the murmurs of the room, making it deafeningly quiet. The only sound you could hear was the chattering of students walking the halls outside. You glanced at Omera beside you, her eyes fixated on the new teacher next to the Dean. Scooting slightly until your view wasn't blocked, the mysterious man finally came into view.

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in your belly, the man in your vision causing them. The Dean’s words melted away, your head becoming fuzzy as you looked at the new teacher. He was handsome, to say the least. He donned a brunette mop of loose, curly hair, and stubble to match. He was broad, the light gray suit he donned only making him look more so. He stood with his hands on his hips, gaze scanning the room when he unsuspectedly locked sight with your own.

Time froze for a moment as his dark eyes peered, your heart gaining speed and your breath catching in unison. Though looking at each other in a crowded room, you felt as though you were the only two. You could've sworn he gave you a gentle nod and a grin, but it felt hazy.

When you finally blinked and looked down, you noted how warm your cheeks had gotten. You felt flustered, the hot rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins and warming up your cold hands. You kept your gaze on the floor ahead of you, trying to steady your racing heart. It was silly to be so flustered over a look, but you haven't experienced that in years.

“And this is our new Astronomy Professor, Din Djarin,” Karga’s words floated back in and you furrowed your brow, trying desperately to ignore the man beside him. The crowd murmured greetings towards the man in the light gray suit, and you felt Omera’s elbow poke your side. Looking towards her, she held a smug expression only fueling the heat in your cheeks.

“Okay, first period is about to start. Better get you all to class.” The Dean’s voice echoed, and the room erupted with chatter as the herds began to clear out. You, flustered, grabbed your stack of papers and bag, ducking your head to exit silently. Getting to the safety of your classroom was all you cared about.

The day surprisingly flew by, despite the whole meeting fiasco earlier that morning. Getting into the groove of class always caused the days to drift by without a blink. Plus, you tried to make the curriculum as engaging as possible to keep both you and your students interested.

After dismissing your last period of the day, you remained in the room working on the papers from the morning. The afternoon sunlight barred against the windows and lit the room brilliantly. That's one reason you loved your classroom; no matter the season, you always got sun. Plus, you’d hung several plants by the windows three years ago much to Dean Karga’s dismay. But it made the space feel less like a prison cell with its painted white brick walls and cold, tile floors.

A knock on the door filled the silence of the space, startling you slightly. After letting out a chuckle at your scare, you yelled for whomever to enter, knowing sometimes students will leave something behind. However, when the door clicked open and you looked up, your breath caught.

“Hi,” The new professor's low voice echoed in the silence as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind. You cleared your throat, standing up from your desk and subconsciously straightening the fabric of your clothes.

“H-Hi, you must be…?” You stuttered out the sentence, walking to the edge of your desk and leaning against the surface for support. Of course you know him, but you’d feel impolite not asking. The man trotted into your room til he stood only a few feet in front of you.

“Oh, uh Din, Din Djarin.” He spoke, sticking out a hand for you to shake. Complying, your much smaller hand became engulfed by his own as the two of you greeted the other. You were quick to introduce yourself, managing not to stutter as you spoke this time. The man repeated your name, the sound of it rolling off his lips like velvet.

“Is there a reason you stopped by?” You questioned, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. His head tilted in question before he realized what you'd asked.

“Oh, Yes, I was just making a point to introduce myself to the staff personally. The Dean put on quite a show.” Din commented, shaking his head. You don't remember a thing about what Dean Karga had said during the whole meeting, only the vivid eye contact between you and the man in front of you, but you chuckled at his claim nonetheless.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled softly, studying the man's face. You couldn't help but notice a few minor scars across his warm skin, one tainting the bridge of his curved nose and another along his cheekbone. There was even a small one hiding on his chin, just showing from behind his stubble.

It made you curious as to how an Astronomy Professor could get such things. Then again, people get scars in all types of weird ways. For example, you have a scar along your thigh that you got from a bike accident involving a hill and your chain catching. You were thirteen at the time.

“What do you teach?” The man questioned, his eyes looking around the room, no doubt trying to guess. The night teacher you shared the space with had put up some decor, but for the most part, the walls were bare of any guidance; aside from the several plants hanging by the window.

“Film and Literature. Have been for...” You paused to do the mental math, “Six years.”

“That’s a long time.” Din observed, nodding his head. You agreed with a slight chuckle, looking away and biting your lip. The man's eyes studied your face as you gazed elsewhere, enamored by your delicate features. Seeing you from across the teachers lounge had been burning in his mind all day. In fact, he had started going room to room for ‘introductions’ just to find you; It only took him seven classrooms.

“Well, I love it,” You shrugged, a smile taking over your face, “And what do you teach?” You finally looked back up at the man, your eyes greeting once again. The intimate contact caused such an anxious stir in your belly, but a welcomed stir.

“Astronomy.” He responded with a nod, putting his hands onto his hips.

“A spaceman huh?” You questioned with a laugh, “I suck at science… hence why I am an Film and Literature teacher.” You gestured to the empty desked room. The man just chuckled along before you two fell into silence again. It didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as before, your tension slowly melting away.

You haven't felt this way around someone for a long time. At least not since your college boyfriend over seven years ago, you dated for two years before you graduated and moved. You haven't really made an effort to since, not for any reason in particular, mostly just because you haven't found someone who made you feel special. Plus, it’s a small area and most of the men weren't available

“Well, I should let you get back to work.” Din spoke after a moment of wordless stares. His sentence was slow and hesitant, almost like he didn't want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot.” You stood up from leaning against your desk and chuckled, looking to the stack of papers on the surface.

The two of you began a slow pace towards the door, heads cast to the floor in shyness. Your sets of footsteps sounded against the tiled floor, filling the empty silence with an echoed click. When you reached the door, the man turned on his heels, nearly bumping into you.

“I'm in room 302 If you'd ever like to stop by?” The man’s statement was more spoken like a hopeful question.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to.” You bit your lip before giving him a gleeful smile, nodding your head. The man perked up at your response, giving you one last goodbye before stepping out of the room.

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

I know there are a few people who want to be tagged, but i lost your @’s! Please send an ask if you want to be added to the Shooting Stars tag list!

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

The Owner’s Office

Franklin x Female Reader (MGG in Beginner’s luck)

Summary: Franklin won’t stop asking the owner of the bowling alley if he can have a discount when the team rents the alley.

A/N: Heyyy heyyy- here’s my first Franklin fic in a while!!! It’s been sitting in my WIPs in a while and I felt the urge to finish it! @sunlight-moonrise is the main person who helped inspire me for this fic- and of course the amazing @spencers-dria. This is my fic for today for my 1000 follower celebration!!! Thanks for all the support you guys!!! Requests are open!

Warnings: 18+, Hate fucking, Panties stuffed in mouth, Oral sex (M receiving), Franklin wants to be called a god, calling reader a fuck toy

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.1k

Owning the most popular bowling alley in Little Falls was more of an exhausting task then most people would assume. I had to work everyday almost 7 days a week to maintain my small business that I had inherited from my father. Honestly, some days I was so exhausted, the gain seemingly so little that if it wasn’t for wanting to keep the business to continue what my father built I would sell it in a heartbeat.

The alley wasn’t anything all that grand or special from a first glance, it was a stereotypical bowling alley with orange and turquoise walls and bright red seats. What really made this place special was all the memories I and the rest of Little Falls had here.

The space that I used as my office was more of a closet then a full office, it also had to have the mop bucket and any other cleaning supplies shoved in there. The desk that was jammed into the space was a shitty little thing, unbalanced and made of cold grey metal that made me shiver whenever I rested my arms on it to type. One would not call the place charming but it was mine, just as it had been my father’s.

When the business had passed onto me I decided to keep the office the same way my father had it. Despite its shitty appearance that was where I ended up spending most of my time while I worked. I had to spend most of my day going through paperwork for the alley and barely had time to come out of my office unless it was right before closing to help the rest of the staff (Namely Rebecca) to clean up.

Usually the times I had to come out were because of one person. Though, at this point I view him as the source of all the annoyance in my life more so than an actual person.

Franklin.

I could rant all day about my deep seated loathing for the man that everyone in Little Falls called their god. Well, everyone except me. He was the person who strutted around like he owned the place- even though I was the one who paid the bills for the place. Most of my gripe with him was for the fact that he would insist that his whole team could have the bowling alley to themselves while they practiced. For some reason he had some deep seated paranoia that people would spy on his team. This led to many arguments between the two of us, mostly about how he didn’t want to pay rent because his team was the only thing bringing money to my alley or about how I didn’t give them enough time to practice. In return I would just tell him to take his business somewhere else if he really cared so much about the rent or needed more practice time.

As I walked in to work my mood was already sour, I had spilled my morning coffee all over me and was running late because I had to change my clothes. As the owner of the alley it didn’t really matter what time I came in but, I had myself stick to a strict schedule, I wanted to be a good role model for my staff. My mood turned from sour to livid when I saw Franklin sitting in one of the chairs at the last lane that happened to be closest to the door to my office. I groaned internally at the sight, the only reason he’d ever show up without his team was to try and chew me out about his practice schedule.

I did not need this today.

Luckily, there was only one bowler here this early and he happened to be at the farthest lane away from my office, no doubt being warned by the staff to be far away from my office as soon as they saw Franklin walk in. My greeting to him consisted of only an angry pointed finger towards the door trying to usher him in quickly before I exploded in the middle of the alley.

“I deserve an 80% discount.” He said immediately after I shut the door to my office. With the amount of times I rolled my eyes everyday in response to Franklin’s antics it was a wonder that they didn’t get stuck in that position.

“And what’s the reason this time that you think you deserve a discount.”

“My team is the only reason your alley pulls in any money.”

“That’s not true.” I simply stated, crossing my arms and looking away from the face that causes me to feel such boiling anger.

“Can I at least get a better practice schedule?”

“No.”

“Why not?” His indignation against a person in some sort of position of authority above him was astounding, he even added to my disbelief by hitting his hand hard enough on my desk to leave a slight dent. Well, that was never leaving. Though it's not like it was a particularly fancy desk, I was still even more pissed than I had been in the first place.

“I’ve given my reason why plenty of times you just don’t listen.” I was about to shove him out of my pathetic excuse for an office if he continued.

“Why should I have to listen to stupid reasonings?”

“Fuck- could you please just shut up!” Me screaming at him to shut up wasn’t out of place in our normal hostile conversations, something about the pause after my shout this time was brewing a different type of tension.

When we met for a kiss it was fueled with the anger that had been surmounting over a long period of time, since as long as I’d known him. If I wouldn’t have to explain why he was leaving my office shirtless I would’ve ripped open the big-z tires shirt he was wearing out of pure anger. Once we had angrily ripped off all of our clothes he hoisted me up onto my metal desk. I hissed from the sudden contact of the cold metal on my ass which only made Franklin laugh. I glared at him hard in response, but unfortunately he did not wither away from my gaze, so I decided to lightly threaten him with extreme embarrassment,

“I’ll kick you out of here without your clothes on, shut up.”

That successfully shut him up quick, and he actually focused on my own pleasure for a while. He didn’t sink down on his knees to eat me out because of course Franklin wouldn’t kneel for anybody. He instead parted my folds and began to rub my clit slowly, he had to be a tease instead of just obliging someone for once.

When I whined out in annoyance at his slow movements he tsked at me before saying, “I’m trying to get you ready for how big I am.”

It pained me to admit that he was right as I looked at his cock, which was probably the biggest one I’ve ever been with. I still decided to whine again to see what he’d do in response. When my panties were then shoved into my mouth as a makeshift gag I spluttered in surprise. I would have ripped it out of my mouth in anger if it wasn’t the hottest thing. Plus the words that he said next did nothing to help how wet I was between my legs, “Now you’re the one that has to shut up.”

Once I was properly prepped for his standards he immediately moved onto his pleasure, I hoped I at least got an orgasm out of this. But, if I was being honest with myself I was more turned on right now than I had ever been with another guy. He thrust into me all the way to the hilt with no warning, causing me to cry out in surprise. Glad I was ready enough to take him, he’s such an ass.

Though despite that, I wouldn’t deny that he felt amazing inside of me as he fucked me hard and dirty on my office desk.

“Who’s your god now?” His cocky voice made me want to scream, which I did, but it was more out of pleasure rather than annoyance. He then pulled the panties out of my mouth even though if anyone heard how loud I was right now my employees would whisper behind my back about it till the end of time. What he said next didn’t surprise me at all, “I want to hear you call me a god, doll. You’re just a bratty little fuck doll for your god’s pleasure.”

“I’m not calling you a god. Doesn’t-” My sentence cut off when Franklin moved his hand to rub at my clit, shocks of pleasure going through me as a result. I bit down on my lip to try in vein to compose myself a little before continuing, “Doesn’t matter if you’re fucking me, you’re still not a god.”

“I’m still the person who’s gonna make you have the best orgasm of your life.”

“I-I’d like to see you try.” And try he did. His hips pistoned into mine with brute strength I didn’t think such a lanky man like him could have. We were probably being so loud that you could hear our skin slapping together rhythmically plus the loud moans that wouldn’t stop coming out of my mouth. Even though it was the hardest thing to admit, he was about to make me orgasm so hard it might’ve been the best one of my life.

I fell over the edge with a high pitched cry, Franklin continuing to rub my clit until I was overstimulated and had to push his hand away. I pushed his shoulder slightly to signal that he needed to get off me then explaining, “There’s no way I’m letting you cum inside me, you can cum in my mouth or nothing else.”

He looked annoyed with me for a second, almost if he wanted to ask if he cumming on my face would be a viable alternative. Luckily for the sake of his own orgasm he decided to keep his mouth shut. I then dropped down to my knees, ignoring the sharp little sting of pain as I took him in my mouth. It only took a little bit of time of me bobbing me head up and down, making sure to hollow my cheeks as best as I could. At one point he tried to wind his hands into my hair as a way to non verbally ask if he could fuck my face. If it had been anyone but Franklin I probably would’ve allowed them too, but instead I hit his hand away, looking up between my lashes with a glare to silently tell him to be grateful he was getting to finish at all. Hot thick ropes of his cum then suddenly shot down my throat with little warning from him, causing me to gag slightly, I’m sure he probably enjoyed that. I wasn’t one to not swallow personally, even if I did hate his guts it was still hot to swallow his cum down my throat. Once I had sufficiently caught my breath I started to clean myself up and get my clothes on, not expecting any aftercare from the bowling alley’s resident asshole.

“So- Do I get that discount?” I whipped around as I rebuttoned up my shirt about to start our argument all over again until I saw a smirk on his face unlike the ones I had seen before. It wasn’t his usual cocky smirk, instead it was a teasing one, he was actually joking with me for once instead of screaming at me. I breathed out a little laugh in response and let the tension melt from my shoulders a little.

It was a relief to not fight with him for once and I kinda liked this Franklin. He still had an aura of smugness around him, but he wasn’t insufferable. He was maybe even a little likeable when he wasn’t screaming his head off at me. In response to his joke I rebutted with a little smirk, “You may not be an actual god but you sure fuck like one. And, no, of course you don’t get the discount.”

Tag list (Message me if you want to be added):

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Franklin/Beginner’s luck:

#franklin x reader #franklin imagine #franklin fanfiction #beginner’s luck #matthew gray gubler x reader #franklin fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #1000 follower celebration #1000 followers

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golddaggers · 4 years

Text

girl crush

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader;

warnings: none really just a smidge of angst but plenty of fluff.

a/n: so here we are! i just ask of you to go kind on me because this is my first time, ok? and sort of self indulging. anyway. leave a comment/reblog if you do like it!

word count: about 2,8k. it’s a quick little thing.

It was a typical Tuesday, I’d woken up, drank my large-sized cup of coffee, and then spent almost five hours straight staring at my computer screens. Not that all of those hours had been any good, I searched and searched, but still hadn’t cracked just how I was supposed to solve the problem. Hell, about three times I was yelling at the machine, calling it ‘bloody stupid’ before trying another approach, still proven worthless.

Lunch had been skipped, I barely took a bite of my grilled sandwich before diving back to the code lines, analysing. I’ve always been so good at cracking things, finishing hard puzzles… At least I needn’t worry about a deadline breathing down my neck, this particular feature would only be out to the end-users on the major release.

Either way, the idea of not being able to come up with a solution bugged me. I could never leave things well enough alone if they were unsolved. It was only when one of my friends texted me about some old high school chick we both used to hate that was pregnant that I realised how late it was. My back hurt from spending too much time sitting down on my chair and I could feel my eyes tired, staring at a computer screen for so many hours wasn’t exactly too healthy.

At least it put the tornado of thoughts I’ve been having for the past couple of weeks to ease. I didn’t want to think about how I had the worst timing ever. Or how I was a big coward for keeping this to myself.

But… I couldn’t just tell him. Falling in love with your best friend seems easy in the movies, in reality, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Harry and I grew up together, we were inseparable from the first time we shared toys in our old town’s playground. Never before I would’ve thought I’d be here, with butterflies rioting in my stomach when he flashed his green eyes at me. It’d be easy if I could just open up, only opening up meant I could lose our 20 and something years of friendship. That was just too much to lose.

Now it seemed as if I had lost my chance. He’d gone out on a date with a girl. They’d been going out for a while. She was… breathtaking. Golden hair, brown eyes, freckles, and a body I wouldn’t ever have. Harry wasn’t the easiest to commit to someone, not that he was a womaniser or something within those lines… He just had problems. Like we all do, I suppose. He seemed genuinely interested in her, though, and it killed me inside to realise it.

I looked toward a corner where a tiny pink ukulele rested and decided I could do with some singing. So I go over to pick it up, playing a couple of notes to see if it was tuned. It’d been a while since I last took it between my hands. Hadn’t enough time to do anything, if I was being honest.

Sat back on my chair, I take my time to reminisce over a song I heard him humming a few days ago. Harry had been doing the dishes, something he hated, but I’d cooked for the two of us, so it was the least he could do. He laughed like a child all the way to the sink, even put on my pink apron. It wasn’t unusual for him to do them when he was in fact at home - which happened only a few handfuls of weeks at a time.

Leaning against the counter top, I watched him. Then the humming began. One would think a singer would get enough on the stage, well, maybe they do, not him though. In the shower, sending texts, doing the dishes… Harry was always singing something. Low and more to himself. I couldn’t lie, even if I wanted to, that I love when he’s home, his entire being enough to warm up the place.

That night I had been wearing one of his old tees, he leaves them everywhere. And it wasn’t unusual for me to “steal” some for myself, besides being comfy, especially the cotton sweaters, they all smelt like him. Felt homely to be inside them, as if he were sleeping next to me.

“I’ve got a girl crush…” I start, unsure if I’ve got the tone right, “Hate to admit it, but I got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.”

My legs are crisscrossed as I rest further back onto the black cushion of my chair. Each note fueled the turmoil growing inside my chest. It was so true, every time I looked at her, the pictures on her Instagram were flawless… I wanted to have everything she had. Because if I did, maybe he would look at me differently, he’d see me in a different light.

The very instrument on my hands had been a gift from him. I have always enjoyed playing the guitar, I came to write a few songs myself… But I’ve never seen it as something I’d want to do for a living. Didn’t like the spotlight very much, not that being friends with a worldwide known popstar helped. Paps seemed to be everywhere. It was just annoying how we couldn’t enjoy a single outing without being awakened with a buzzing phone. My other friends texting me the several headlines saying “Harry Styles has been seen yet again with childhood best friend, could they be dating?”

Got worse when we moved in together. The thing was… We didn’t really live together, yes, the house, more like a mansion if I was being honest, belonged to him and he stayed there whenever he was in London, which, if he was working too much, seldom happened. So no, we didn’t live together. Harry just thought it’d be nice for me to stay there since it was so empty all the time and I only said yes because I needed saving money to pay off the loan I had taken to cover my university tuition. It felt like a lifetime away.

I stayed because I had grown spoiled. At first, I was annoyed he didn’t let me pay for the expenses whenever he was away, I was nowhere rich, but now I made more than enough to cover the bills, even for a house as big as this one, since most of it was inhabited. He insisted on me keeping it, doing fun things I wanted to do, and I shouldn’t worry about anything else. A couple of months later, I saw the appeal to his offer. I also knew my best friend well to know he was a stubborn son of a bitch.

Everything changed when Harry told me about his golden girl. After so many years, we had grown aware of the other’s quirks, as I like to put it, we knew how to deal with one another. My point being was… Harry could be a bit sensitive when I told him about my dates, now it lights a spark of hope within me, back then, however, I brushed it off as him trying to act as a protective big brother. He, on the other hand, never had problems when talking about the people he dated to me. Often I wouldn’t care. This time… It happened right after the fatidic Tuesday.

The pain stung like a sharp edge of a knife against my heart.

“I wanna’ taste her lips, yeah, ‘cos they taste like you… I wanna’ drown myself in a bottle of her perfume...” The notes come out soft, I can hear a little metallic sound as my hands switch the notes and I keep singing the sad lyrics, “Yeah, ‘cos maybe then, you’d want me just as much...”

“Thought I had a nightingale in this room,” His accent slipped through the sentence like butter on a warm toast, “‘lo, love.”

His presence startled me, I almost dropped the ukulele. It was way too early for him to be back home from his date. Part of me wanted to ask how it’d gone and in any other situation, I would’ve. Not tonight, though. Didn’t wanna know if she had kissed him good night. If he gave her his signature green-eyed glare when he wanted something… If he’d asked for another date. My heart wouldn’t be able to cope.

“You scared me.”

“I reckon you said I was fit like a daydream,” He stuffed his chest and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you actually quoting your ex-girlfriend?” Harry rolled his eyes, dismissing my comment completely, “Why are you home already?”

“D’ya want me to leave?”

“You are ridiculous,” I say as I stand up, the Fleetwood Mac tee I had on falling to my mid thighs. It was oversized because it didn’t belong to me, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him, who has a cheeky grin directed at me. “Stop looking. You keep ditching them and I just happen to like these shirts.”

“I didn’t say anything, doll. But I was looking for that one, though I settled for that old pink striped sweater of yours.”

“So it’s with you?” My indignation seeps through, “I went nutty looking for that.”

“Looks better on me anyway.”

“Nonsense.”

The laughter shakes his whole body, yet again I am plowed with our childhood memories, that right there hadn’t changed. Harry still laughed like a little child, a boy with his blue truck toy. I felt warm inside, to watch him like that. To still have, after so long, a friend like he was to me.

Harry goes quiet then, bright green staring right at me. I know what’s coming. It’s happened before - I sang about the boys I liked quite often, I suppose. So it was obvious he wanted to know who was stealing my attention this time. He wanted to know who I was singing about.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Wha’? I didn’t even open my mouth.”

“I know you,” Back on my feet, I grab my plate with the remains of what was supposed to be my lunch and head out to the kitchen. He followed me around like a stray puppy.

The kitchen is an enormous place. Wooden cupboards with just about every piece of china one could dream of, fine crystal glasses for wine and champagne, bowls, plates, even goblets could be found. Inside the several drawers, besides the silver cutlery, I had managed to fold some table sheets I bought at a flea market. Harry would lose his mind if he knew where they came from. On the left corner, a tall two-door grey fridge, with a shopping list on its door to remind me that I needed to go out tomorrow to get things. Next to the two basin sink, was an electric cooktop that had become my best friend, I loved to cook there, staring out the window - the yard was beautiful, green grass all year long, though during spring the most gorgeous flowers blossomed. I loved that place very much.

Right in the middle was an island, my lone cactus trying to make it a little less plain. Which wasn’t that hard, the dark marble surface glimmered under the led light.

After I threw out the sandwich and put the plate on the sink, I started pacing around to gather things for dinner, fresh tomatoes to make the sauce with homegrown onions and garlic. I liked cultivating my food. I got flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt. It was all I needed to make the dough.

I could still feel his eyes on me, as I moved effortlessly through his kitchen, collecting everything I needed.

“What do you want?”

“You’re too stressed,” Harry says, standing up straight and standing next to me, “Is it about the boy you were singing about? Or girl. I dunno.”

“Seriously?” Can’t help but shake my head, “That’s your approach? ’M not telling you, H.”

“Oh, you’re keepin’ secrets from me. That’s new.”

He grabs the knife on my hand, starting to chop the onion into tiny cubes. Always skillful with his hands, he was.

“‘M not keeping secrets. It’s just none of your business.”

“Ouch.” Harry pours the onion into the pan, stealing the tomatoes to start chopping them as well. I focused on the dough. “You’re so adamant about not telling me I’ll start thinking it’s me.”

The entire world stills for me when he says that out loud, and I don’t know what to say, so I keep cracking the eggs, pouring them over the flour then adding, by eye, what I considered to be enough of olive oil. At last, I put two pinches of salt into the mix.

My silence seems to annoy him further.

“C’mon, it was a joke.” He tries, gently grabbing my arm and I see myself having to stop mixing, “I really want to know, though, have to make sure you’re with someone worthy of you.”

“Why?”

Couldn’t look him in the eye, I have them glued to the bowl with the sticky batter. The hand on my arm sneaks to my back, he’s warm and I tremble under his touch, my breath comes out a bit harsher.

Harry takes a deep breath before answering, “I care about you, bunny.”

“Is that all it is?” Now I dare to look up, to find those emeralds. I liked quite a lot to look at them, they were akin to shiny jewelry and I was the dazzled child. Right now they showed nothing but a shade of confusion.

“What else?”

A tightness in my chest grows, I know right away I am about to cry and I don’t want to. Don’t want to fall apart in front of him. In the middle of cooking. When things seemed to be going amazing for the two of us. Despite my most intimate wishes, I ended up doing just that, my dirty hands falling limp as he held me in his arms, asking over and over what had happened.

His chin rests on the top of my head and I can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. My bottom lip is quivering. I was so tired of being tough, I just wanted to be loved. To be loved by him.

“I need to tell you something,” A sniff makes me sound whiny, “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Never,” Harry speaks so quietly I believe him. “Could never be mad at you, bunny.”

“Okay…”

I bring his much bigger hands into my own. They warm up under his touch. If I’m being honest, I warm up completely. Body and soul. He gives a soft squeeze, urging me to speak. It’s needless to say that he’s anxious, always being the curious one between the two of us.

“The song… Well, um, I was singing for you.” It was as quiet as a whisper, “I like you.”

“Don’t be silly.” His face goes serious, “You’re not kidding me, are ya?”

“Do you think I would?”

There’s a lump at the bottom of my throat, tears still falling. I didn’t have a problem being vulnerable with him, or opening up - now I was embarrassed. I would apologise if I hadn’t felt his warm lips start kissing my salty-teared cheeks, only to finish up with a chaste kiss on my own.

“What are you doing?” I pull back, shocked that he’d kissed me. “Do you...”

“I am so glad you’ve said first, fancying you for the longest time hasn’t been easy. But I suppose it gave me quite the inspiration.”

“You’ve written about me?”

“More times than I am proud to admit.”

This time it’s me who kisses him, standing on the tip of my toes, losing my fingers into the soft curls. It seemed very much unreal to me. He never struck me as the type to keep feelings in check or to himself. I should’ve seen something. Or maybe I did and didn’t want to face that the best person I could’ve fallen for was right in front of me.

Then I think about her. The golden-haired beauty. She wouldn’t be too pleased.

“She’s just a friend, bunny.”

“Reading my thoughts now, Styles?”

“Nah, just know you too well.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

Harry lifts me, kissing me again. And I can’t help but feel whole. Like a bit of me that was missing had been set on its place.

Bless the will to play a song.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #a smidge of angst #just a smidge #gorgeous english boy

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet - Chapter 3: Flirting With the Enemy

summary: As Marcus pursues Lisbon, you try to think of a way to prevent his heartbreak, and even consider teaming up with an unlikely ally.

warnings: angst, guns, food, i don’t remember all the details of this episode and i didn’t want to rewatch it so i tried my best okay

rating: T

word count: 3.896k

previous part ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next part

chapter 3: flirting with the enemy

Your morning routine is filled with nothing but strings of curses and wild rushing, feeling relieved that you at least don’t have to dress up as per usual—or at least, that’s the text you woke up to from Marcus. Probably because it’s a day you’re not supposed to be working. But, according to the homicide team, you’ll finally be getting your thieves, and somehow proving the murder in the process. That’s still the last thing on your mind as you realize that, thanks to your late-night grieving session with Andy, you woke up much later than you wanted to.

You don’t even get to eat breakfast—again—as you arrive to work, praying that the elevator moves faster somehow as you ascend up to your floor. You practically toss your stuff onto your chair when you get to your desk, leaning your hands on top of it and taking a deep breath before you turn around to find your partner.

Yet, he’s already found you, extending both a cup of coffee and a granola bar out to you as he raises an eyebrow. “Tough morning, Sunny?” Marcus asks, chuckling a bit when you eagerly accept both things from him.

“Yeah,” you agree with a huff, breaking into the granola bar with relief, “I guess you could say that.”

Marcus shakes his head and he’s about to say something, but your focus has gone haywire because your tired brain can only think about how the hell he looks so handsome today when he’s only wearing a casual t-shirt, jacket, and jeans instead of his usual suit. You practically rip off a piece of the granola bar in frustration—whether it’s towards him or yourself, you don’t know. Marcus continues with whatever he was about to say as he furrows his brow. “That’s two days in a row, partner. Is everything okay?”

Your exhausted and exasperated mind is so close to telling him the truth, to confessing that you’ve been in love with him for longer than you can keep track of and the idea of him pursuing a woman that’s in love with another man makes you want to go absolutely batshit crazy, but you swallow the words back with the bite of your granola bar as you manage a smile. “I’m fine, Pike. Thanks for the concern, though. Let’s just say it’s… personal.”

Marcus purses his lips and nods knowingly. “Ah. It’s Andy-related? You’re sworn to secrecy?”

You shrug. He’s given you the perfect lie to run with. “You know how it is.”

Marcus smiles and lightly punches your shoulder. “What a good friend, always giving advice at the expense of your own sanity and sleep—myself included.”

You try not to let your smile falter, but damn. Being put in that friendzone is just the cherry on top of this crazy morning. “Yep. You know me.” You force an awkward chuckle with the words. You hope Marcus can accost your strange behavior to your lack of sleep.

He takes a deep breath, gesturing with his head out towards the place where Wiley works at the computer. “Well, Sunny, I hope the coffee helps, because we’ve got quite the stunt to pull today.”

You raise an eyebrow as you finish off the granola bar and toss the wrapper inside your garbage can, reaching for your coffee and starting to follow Marcus to Wiley’s desk. “What do you mean? I thought we were just catching them.”

“Oh, we are.” Marcus lowers his voice as he goes on, making sure only you can hear him. “But, I guess Jane’s got some elaborate plan to lead us to his lair and prove he killed that man. I don’t know.”

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee. “Of course.” You keep your voice hushed just like Marcus did as you continue. “They obviously don’t know how we keep things short and to the point in the art theft department.”

Marcus chuckles. “Whatever works for them, I guess.”

“Well, whatever you pick up from this—,” you gesture with your arms to the homicide team’s space you’re now entering, “—please don’t bring it to our cases. It’s way too complicated.”

“Alright, Sunny. I won’t.”

You give Marcus a grateful smile that he returns, making you pray that you don’t get weak in the knees as you arrive behind Wiley’s desk. He fills you in on the progress so far this morning, trying to explain at least part of Jane’s wild plan and how you both fit into it. He’s got footage of the two of them pulled up on his computer and you have to restrain yourself from bristling at the way Marcus looks at Lisbon. This is still your job, and a dangerous one at that, and you can’t afford to be distracted all the time by your love life—or, lack thereof.

As if the morning wasn’t already crazy enough, you soon find yourselves en route to the house Jane and Lisbon have been in, your handgun in tow as Marcus drives the both of you there.

“So, why are they sending two art theft officers after a murderer?” you ask Marcus, causing him to snicker with a shrug as he makes a turn.

“I stopped asking questions,” he confesses, looking over at you with amusement. ��But as far as I know, we’re just supposed to detain the thief from last night.”

You scrunch up your nose. “The one who hit on Fischer?” Marcus nods, and you make a noise of disgust. “Perfect.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you, Sunny,” Marcus assures you sweetly—just as he always does. He’s so kind to a fault and it never fails to make you smile, though you know the danger of that. You know how people like to take advantage of it. You know that you’re watching it happen before your very eyes with Lisbon, even if she’s not conscious of how she’s doing it. “The rest of the team’s going after the leader.”

“They can have whatever action they want. I just want our art and our thieves.”

Marcus hums in agreement, but you watch his eyes widen as he pulls up to the house. “Shit, they’re already here,” Marcus mutters, gesturing to the white van that’s parked just beside the house.

Adrenaline rushes through you as you tighten your hold on your gun. You and Marcus share a look as you reach for your door handle. “I don’t like this, Pike.”

Marcus grimaces as he looks at the house. “I’m sure it’s fine.” He’s worried more than usual—and you know why. He knows who’s in that house and so do you. You wonder if he’d be just as worried if you were the one who was in there.

The car full of the rest of the homicide team pulls up next to you, and both you and Marcus step out of the car once they do. You look to each other before following them inside, both your hands bracing themselves on your gun as you enter. One of the thieves is already there holding Lisbon at gunpoint, but she quickly gets the upper hand on him by reaching for her own gun, and he turns around to realize he’s been compromised.

“Where’s the other guy?” you whisper to Marcus, still holding tight to your gun with both hands. “The one we talked about earlier.”

He gestures with his head towards the tall, spiraling staircase. “My guess is upstairs. We’ll probably be the ones to greet and trap him down here.”

You nod, getting a better grip on your weapon as you wait behind one of the pristine white walls with the others to keep yourself hidden from view. Marcus’ focus in the moment seems to be entirely on the task at hand, which means yours is, too. Your heart races in your chest as you wait for the sound of footsteps on the stairs, your arm nearly brushing against Marcus’ as you lean against the wall.

When the sound comes, you’re quick to jump out with Marcus, aiming your weapons and managing to keep your adrenaline-fueled trembling to a minimum. You and Marcus share yet another look as the thief seems to give in, offering up the bag he’s carrying and letting himself be cuffed. You tuck your gun into your pants as the threats seem to dwindle, looking to Marcus to see him also looking at you.

“Now what?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“I think they’ve got it from here,” Marcus tells you. “We just have to rendezvous back at headquarters and interrogate these guys.” He gestures to the two men who are already cuffed.

“Are we supposed to transport them?”

Marcus twists his lips. “I hope not. I don’t want them in the back of my car.”

You chuckle and shake your head at the craziness of it all. The art theft department’s never been one to be sporadic on the scene of a sting, so running around with the homicide department who’s more complicated in their work makes things much different than you’re used to.

Eventually, everyone ends up back at headquarters, and after a round of interrogations and a feast of pizza, everyone begins to settle in the break room. You’re beside Marcus and you can’t help noticing—as usual—that he keeps looking over in Lisbon’s direction, who’s sitting at a table by herself. You’re trying to absorb yourself in this piece of pizza to block it out, but as soon as he speaks, you realize it’s unavoidable.

“I think I’m gonna go talk to her,” Marcus whispers to you, and you look over at him as you swallow a bite of pizza to see his dark eyes glittering nervously at you.

No, you want to exclaim to him, don’t break your heart again! Can’t you tell she’s in love with someone else? Can’t you realize I’m standing right here? Instead, you give him a reassuring nod. “Go for it, Pike!” you whisper-shout, surprised with how well you’re able to fake your enthusiasm as you take another bite of pizza. “Now’s a better time than ever.”

Marcus exhales deeply, nodding as he looks back in her direction. “You’re right. I can do this.”

You pat his shoulder with your hand that’s not supporting your paper plate. “You can do this.” Even if I can’t.

Marcus starts to walk off in that direction, but he stops himself, turning back to you to place a hand upon your shoulder. “Thank you, Sunny,” he murmurs genuinely. “No matter what happens.”

You smile wide at him, hoping he doesn’t hear the crackling of your heart as it begins to fall apart in your chest. “You’re welcome, Marcus—no matter what happens. I’ll always be here.”

Marcus smiles at that, giving your shoulder a pat before he keeps walking off towards Lisbon. You look at the scene with longing, the pieces of your broken heart sinking into your stomach like rocks as you watch it all happen. Of course, he’d taken your last few words in the context of a friend, even though you’d meant so much more. How could he know that? Marcus may be damn good at his job, but he can also be so clueless—and you just hope it won’t lead him to getting his heart broken once again.

You’re not creepy enough to listen in to their conversation, but it must be going well, because you see them laugh together a few times and soon, they’re making a move to get up and leave. Marcus lets her go first, and before he leaves, he turns to look at you and give you an excited thumbs up. You return it, hoping that your own smile is still convincing as he leaves with her. You finish off your pizza with a vicious tug of a piece of crust, throwing the plate into the trash can with a little more vigor than you should.

As soon as you leave the break room, you see Jane held up with Marcus and Lisbon, who seem to be having a rather awkward exchange before Marcus and Lisbon continue towards the elevator. You can see the way Jane takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly in the same way yours probably did upon watching Marcus leave. Then, his eyes meet yours, and you can see the same thing you feel reflected in him.

You don’t know what possesses you, but you make your way over to him, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you could use some coffee,” you tell him, swinging your car keys in your fingers as you speak. He raises his brow back at you. “There’s a twenty-four hour café down the street if you want some.”

Jane hums in interest, and you try to read him for something more—but you can’t. You figure he must be the most terrifying person to be interrogated by. When he speaks, his voice is as calculated as ever. “Interesting. I could’ve sworn you didn’t like me.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you tighten your hold on your keys. “I’m not asking you on a date, Jane. I’m just trying to be nice.”

Jane narrows his eyes at you and you don’t like the feeling of being read so easily. Whatever mind game he’s trying to play, you won’t give in. “Hmm. Alright. I’ll meet you there. What’s it called?”

You give him the name, and he nods to confirm it as you head to your car. Before you take off, you pull out your phone, chewing on your lower lip nervously as you write out a text to Andy.

me: andy... i think i’m about to do something very, very bad… 🥴

You send it and lock your phone again, heading to the street and thankfully getting a spot on the street just in front of the café, thanks to the later hours of the night. You see that you’ve gotten a response already when you pick your phone back up.

andy💞: ma’am! what are you doing? whatever it is, stop it and call me. right now.

You sigh as you look up and see Jane pulling in right in front of you.

me: too late. i’ll call you later.

You pocket your phone and get out of your car, leading the way for you and Jane inside as you order—paying for Jane’s coffee as you’d said before—and sitting down at a table far away from the windows, just in case someone from work happened to walk or drive by. There’s only a few other people in the café, causing you to keep your voice lower than usual as you speak.

“So, I, uh—,” you attempt to begin.

“You’re in love with Pike.” Jane’s words are short, sweet, and to-the-point, causing you to choke on air as you sputter for something to say. Jane simply chuckles and takes a sip of his drink before continuing. “I know. I ‘read minds.’ Remember?”

“Okay. Whatever.” You take a quick sip of your coffee to try to prove that you’re not as flourished as you actually are. “You’re in love with Lisbon.” Jane shrugs, and you scoff as you lean forward on your elbows. “Oh, please. Don’t try to deny it. I mean, can’t you tell that she feels the same way?”

Jane shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“‘It doesn’t matter?’” You huff as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms aggressively. “So, it doesn’t matter that you know you both have requited feelings for each other, and you’re not doing anything about it? You’re letting her go off with some guy she doesn’t even have true feelings for?”

“She does have feelings for him.” Jane takes a thoughtful sip of his drink, and the way he’s staying so calm right now is infuriating to you. “Even if she loves me. It’s possible to be torn between two men, you know.”

“Yeah, but tonight is their first date. If you just told her your feelings now, she’d stop this altogether.”

Jane remains silent for a moment, sipping and tapping his finger against his cardboard cup. You have to try yet again not to roll your eyes as you sit there, waiting for him to say something. When he speaks, he leans forward on the table, looking at you with a raised brow. “It seems to me that you’re only doing this to have Pike for yourself.”

“No. I’m doing this because, by you staying silent on all of this, you’re setting an innocent man up for failure and heartbreak when she realizes further down the road that you’re the one she wants.”

“You mean, the same heartbreak you’re feeling right now?”

You lean forward as you’d done before, failing to hide your frustration as you widen your eyes at him. “This isn’t about me. This is about you hurting someone else just because you won’t open your damn mouth.”

Jane smiles—yes, the bastard smiles—at your words. “Really? Because it seems like both of us would be at fault here, should that be the case.” You raise an eyebrow, but before you can question him further, he goes on. “I’m not the only one holding back secrets, Agent. Why don’t you tell Pike how you feel?”

You finally give in to the act of rolling your eyes as you draw a sip from your drink. “Because, Jane, I told you. This isn’t about me. Me telling him about my feelings won’t do anything because he doesn’t feel the same way. He’ll still stay with Lisbon and get his heart broken.”

Jane narrows his eyes at you. “Are you so sure he doesn’t feel the same way?”

You think back on the embarrassingly obvious friendzoning from earlier today. “Yes. I am.”

Jane shrugs. “I don’t know. He looked at you an awful lot today.”

You hate the flicker of hope his words give you, knowing he’s just looking for excuses to get you to stop putting him in such a tight spot. “That’s not the point.” You take a deep breath and recenter yourself, both your hands slipping around your cup as you look at him. “Listen, I’m not asking you to confess your long-time feelings to Lisbon right now. I guess I’m just…” you trail off, trying to think of how to say it.

“Proposing that we scheme together until one of us confesses?” Jane finishes for you, and surprisingly, it’s rather close to what you’re thinking.

“Sure. Put it that way.” You reach into your pocket for your phone as you sigh lightly. “I’ll need your phone number just so we can talk about this.”

Jane chuckles with obvious amusement. “Buying me coffee and asking for my number? And I thought you said this wasn’t a date.”

“It’s not.” Your response is quick and curt, void of all amusement—though Jane’s eyes still twinkle with that emotion. You hand him a blank contact. “For business purposes only.”

“For business… purposes… only.” Jane repeats the words as he types out his information in your phone, smiling almost smugly as he hands it back to you. He then rises from his chair and extends a hand towards you. “Pleasure doing business with you, Agent.”

You accept his hand in a shake as you grimace slightly. “This is highly confidential, Jane. I mean it.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let Pike know you’re inserting yourself into his love life.” Jane nods before he leaves the café, and you sigh as you sit back down and open Andy’s contact, instantly calling her as you prop your phone up with your hand.

“Bitch!” Andy greets you with an incredulous exclamation. “What the hell are you up to? Where are you?”

“Hello to you too, Andy,” you scoff, looking around to make sure no one heard your best friend speak like a sailor. “I’m at the café down the street from work.”

Andy raises an eyebrow at you. “Alone?”

“Now I am, yeah.” You’re too ashamed to admit who you’d been with before.

Her dark eyes narrow at you. “Girl… who were you with?”

You look down at your cup for the moment, which suddenly seems very interesting as you squeak out your answer. “Remember the guy who Lisbon’s in love with? Well, I—.”

“You did not.” Andy leans closer to her camera as she looks at you with disbelief. “Please tell me you’re not scheming with that guy.”

“Listen, we’re not…” you trail off, sighing as you remember exactly what you both shook on. “Okay, maybe we are. Maybe.”

“Ma’am!” Andy groans and falls back in her seat. “What the hell are you doing? What happened to seeing what happened and letting Marcus be happy?”

“He’s taking her on a date tonight!” you try to defend yourself. “I just—I can’t watch this happen in front of my eyes, Andy! He’s gonna get hurt again!”

“And he’s gonna get hurt even more when he finds out you’re meddling in his love life!”

You groan with frustration as you realize she’s right. You slap a hand to your forehead and drag it down your face. “Look, we’re not gonna do anything crazy. I’m just trying to convince Jane to confess his feelings to Lisbon so we can avoid Marcus’ heartbreak in the first place.”

Andy tuts and shakes her head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, girl.”

You feel a pit in your stomach, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. “I know. But… I just, I can’t sit by idly and let him get hurt again, Andy. I have to at least try to help him.”

Andy sighs and raises an eyebrow at you. “I understand, Miss Thing. You have a big heart and right now it’s bleeding for Marcus.” You nod to agree with that. “But, girl, he cannot find out you’re doing this.”

“I know.” You can’t imagine what it would be like if Marcus realized you were doing something like this. Any potential to have a friendship with him in the future would be gone—and a relationship would be completely out of the question. “We’re keeping it confidential.”

“You better.” Andy still releases another breath, one of her hands toying with her jet black hair as she stares at you. “Be careful. I’m serious. You’re dealing with a lot of people’s hearts, here.”

“I will,” you assure her, smiling bittersweetly as you give her a nod. “I promise.”

“Alright. Keep me updated, girl.”

“As always.”

Andy smiles at that. “Love ya’.”

“Love you too, Andy. Bye.”

With that, you hang up, heaving out a sigh as you hold your head in your hands. You know you’re going in way too deep, now, but it’s too late to turn back. All you can hope for is that you can save both your and Marcus’ hearts in the process and not ruin something you haven’t even gotten to start yet.

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bittersweet tag list: @agentpike @roxypeanut @poenariuniverse @mrsparknuts @sheerfreesia007 @thisisthe-way @lamnothome @dirty-dancefl00r5 @ryleyrooroo @ezrasarm@flowercrownsandmetallicarms @seasonschange-butpeopledont @din-damn-djarin

permanent tag list: @mikahidalgo @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin @nettyklecan @mistermiraclee @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @smellssharpies @catfishingmorales @badassbaker @wille-zarr @kaetastic @saltywintersoldat @agentpike @mrsparknuts @readsalot73 @yespolkadotkitty @mandhoelorian @lilangeldevil006 @cyaredindjarin @roxypeanut @phoenixhalliwell @hail-doodles @randomness501 @this-cat-is-dea @hopplessdreamer @paintballkid711 @captain-skytrash @whataenginerd @katlikeme @petertingless @propertyofdindjarin @theocatkov @bisexual-space-slut @cyaredindjarin @arkofblake @cryptkeepersoul @motleymoose

marcus pike tag list: @opheliaelysia

#welp #y'all guessed it!#let's see what happens now!#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #bittersweet fic #the mentalist #dindjarindiaries

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entertainment · 4 years

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Entertainment Spotlight: Will Vought, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Actor, comedian, and writer Will Vought stars in the most recent season of the critically acclaimed dramedy series, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Additional television credits include The Good Wife, The Good Fight, both Lipstick Jungle and Love Bites, Bones, and Wilfred. Will is also an accomplished comedian, having toured the country opening for Wayne Brady. He got his start in the entertainment industry by contributing to Scott Shannon’s #1 morning show on 95.5 WPLJ, offering David Letterman updates and recaps, which opened the door for him to work for Late Night with Conan O’Brien. Following his work with Conan, Will was offered a position in the West Wing of the White House, working for former President Bill Clinton, where he still continued his radio work on the weekends as the youngest morning show host in the country at just 22 years old. Will went on to serve as head writer for Wayne Brady during his time hosting the The Late Late Show prior to James Corden in 2014 on CBS, and he continues to collaborate with renowned actor and comedian Paul Reiser, including shopping a television pilot they wrote together with Julie Bergman. We got the chance to ask him some questions. Check it out:

Do you have a favorite character arc from season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel?

For Season 3, I’m finding myself really interested in Susie and her journey. I don’t want to spoil it for those getting ready to start the new season or binge the series; however, in the first two seasons, Susie’s been hustling and primarily being of service to Midge while her personal life hangs on by a thread. In season 3, there are so many more layers introduced and opportunities that will ripple into not only her clout as a comedy manager but also her personal life. Also, I’m really invested in Lenny Bruce. Having read so much about him to see his plight on screen told through Amy’s lens is incredible. I don’t know anyone in comedy that doesn’t appreciate what Lenny Bruce did for comedians. The end of the Season 3 premiere is absolutely priceless seen thought the eyes of Tony Shalhoub’s Emmy Award-winning performance as Abe Weissman - Midge’s father.

If everything that you did was narrated, whose voice would you want narrating your life?

HA! That is a great question, and I’ve had to think about it. At first, I thought of the late great voice-over artist Don LaFontaine who moviegoers would remember as the “In A World…” guy who made millions voicing almost every movie trailer ever! BUT…truth be told I think that I would love Seinfeld's voice and lens, and I think it would make my day to day activities far more entertaining to listen to, especially when on the phone with my therapist.

Can you tell us about a time you bombed (on stage or in an audition)?

Well…the thing that pops to mind was an audition for NBC’s series called Lipstick Jungle. At the time, I was living on Long Island and decided to make the mistake of driving into Manhattan for the audition. Traffic was abhorrent, and you would think that there were mass casualties on the Long Island Expressway resulting in me being almost an hour and forty-five minutes late for the audition. The director of that episode was the one and only Timothy Busfield, whom I loved on Arron Sorkin’s The West Wing. Tim played reporter Danny Concannon - Senior White House Correspondent.

I had no idea that Timothy was going to be at the audition and was mortified when I showed up and saw him in the room because I was so late. It’s not unheard of to not be seen at all if you are late, let alone hours late. I read for the part and left. Tim was gracious. A month later, I got a call saying that I didn’t book that role; however, they were writing me another role and wanted to hire me for it. While on set shooting, Tim told me that when they asked him if he had any ideas for the part and he said, “That guy who came in 2 hours late. He was great. Hire him.” So I thought I bombed — but it worked out in the end.

The USO Tour scene from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel broke the record for the most number of background actors used in a scene for tv in the state of New York (850). What was it like being a part of such a huge production?

I’ve never worked on Star Wars, but that’s what I was thinking of when we were filming that. It was by far the largest set I’ve ever been on, and yes there were almost 1000 background actors there for almost an entire week, who made up the audience of the USO show that you see in the season 3 premiere. When I met with Amy and Dan for the final audition for the role of Major Buck Brilstein, it was at Steiner Studios in Brooklyn in a small room that’s not much larger than a small studio apartment in Manhattan. It was the three of us and Emmy award-winning casting director Cindy Tolan. We did all the material from the episode, and to juxtapose that to being in an actual hanger with 1000 extras essentially filming a USO show that’s scripted — it was a historic moment in television that wasn’t lost on me.

What was the audition experience like for your role on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel?

I kind of talk about that above. I had a great experience. As with anything, you have to go in a number of times, and then the final callback is with Amy and Dan Sherman Palladino. You are 2 feet away from her, there is a camera, and Cindy Tolan, the casting director, and you create the world and do the scenes — WORD PERFECT! That is a huge thing, and something I was told going in. Be word perfect every time. Their words are like notes on a page. Each one carefully picked and placed, and my job is to take them off the page and bring them to life with a sensibility of 1959 and a guy that’s a major in the army who always wanted to be a comedian but never really got the chance. So, my character is literally living his dream in this episode. Beyond that, you bring your A-game, nail it, and it’s up to Amy and Dan. It happened to go my way, and as I told Amy, I was grateful to get the invitation to play in her world. She wrote and directed this episode, so it was extra special.

Is there a specific role or moment that you feel has defined your career up to this point?

We’ll — this is pretty significant re: working with the Palladino’s. I thought that The Good Wife was a big deal at the time — as I was part of Bob and Michelle King’s storyline that revealed Josh Charles’ character was murdered.

It seems that I’m only allowed to act opposite actresses that have won 2 Emmy’s and 2 Golden Globes for Best Actress. LOL. It’s truly a hard question to answer as each project is different, and as an actor, you hope that one job will open a door or opportunity to another. That’s what I’ve found, at least over the past few years, so it’s certainly a slow burn.

Years ago, I was the low man on the totem pole at NBC’s Late Night with Conan O’Brien. I was an intern in the writing department under John Groff and often got the chance to appear in sketches on the show. This was an invaluable experience. There was an afternoon where I asked Conan (as I was cleaning his office) if he knew this was what he was going to do from the beginning. I’ll never forget what he said. He told me that, “In his wildest dreams he never thought he would be hosting a late night show.” He described show business as being on a highway. He was a writer in college, wanted to be a writer and set off on the highway with the goal of writing in mind. Along the trip, there were exits: Mad Magazine, The Simpsons, SNL. After each exit, he gets back on the journey. If you want to be a teacher or doctor or lawyer, you know exactly what to do. Go to X school for X years, and then they declare you as such. Boom. You’re it. Hollywood is not like that. Everyone’s path is so different, and how we get to where we are is almost inconsequential when compared to the culmination of the journey. I’ve been blessed to do a lot of different things so far and work with incredible talent that truly moves the needle in this business, and I hope for more opportunities.

What’s your favorite bit or joke from one of your stand-up sets?

I have a new bit I’m working on that’s fueled by my natural anger toward this situation.

I hate paper straws.

If this makes me a horrible person, so be it. If “they” think I don’t care about the EARTH or ENVIRONMENT and support the extinction of humanity because of this — so be it.

Paper straws? Really? Who did this make sense to? Who thought it was a good idea to combine PAPER and WATER?

I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time — but it doesn’t work. Three sips into my iced coffee and the thing has disintegrated, and I’m now drinking iced coffee and paper!

If you think paper straws are a good idea, let me ask you one question. Would you like to use a paper condom?

In the future, you’ll be standing in the rain telling your friend you can’t understand why she’s pregnant and soaking wet from holding the paper umbrella.

I will say that if we do switch to paper condoms …. I don’t know about the environment, but we will absolutely ensure the survival of humanity.

Lighting round! Describe each of the following in one word: Who you are, what you value the most, and what you’d be if you were a food item.

I AM WILL VOUGHT.

I VALUE MOST: MY SON.

IF I WAS A FOOD ITEM, I’D BE A BEYOND BURGER!

What are you working on right now?

Right now, I’m working on sending out subliminal messages via Transcendental Meditation to Adam McKay for a coffee meeting that would result in being cast on the 3rd season of Succession on HBO. I’d text him, but I don’t have his cell. Do you?

Thanks for taking the time, Will! Catch Season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Prime Video.

Photography: Emily Assiran | Grooming Laila Hayani | Styling: Natalia Zemliakova

#entertainment spotlight #will vought #the marvelous mrs. maisel

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (9/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

When she opened the café the following week, Clarke didn't expect the first customer to be Gustus. He walked toward her with a slight hunch in his shoulders, holding a large paper bag in front of him.

"Hello, Clarke."

"Hi, Gustus. How are you?"

"Lexa said you were looking for help in the kitchen. Am I too late?"

Clarke blinked in surprise. "Not at all."

Gustus set the bag on the counter. "I don't have much of an education and I don't know proper baking terms. I haven’t worked for anyone in twenty-five years, but I have made and sold baked goods on my family's apiary since my childhood."

He pulled out several containers. "I've brought honey muffins, blueberry tartlets, and a chocolate-walnut pie. Please, have a taste when you can."

"You're… applying to work here?"

Gustus nodded. "I'd like to help in the kitchen."

It was certainly unorthodox, but they had yet to find anyone and Clarke's mouth had already watered at the smell of the pie.

"Gustus, are you sure this is what you want? The hours can be long and we can't afford to negotiate on salary for now."

"Money doesn't matter to me. I have my own land and grow my own food."

"What about your apiary?"

"A hobby more than a business these days. The market made me realize how much I miss…" His eyebrows furrowed as he thought of the word.

"People?" Clarke guessed.

He stroked his beard. "But not so much that I would leave the kitchen."

Clarke chuckled. "I see why Lexa likes you."

"She may pretend otherwise, but Lexa enjoys company too. She would not write the way she does if it weren’t the case."

"No, I don't suppose she would."

They both looked toward the entrance when a customer walked in. Gustus moved to the side.

"I won't keep you longer. Thank you for humoring an old beekeeper."

"Wells will have the final word, but he's badgered me to get more of your honey so the odds are definitely in your favor."

Gustus inclined his head gratefully, a heartwarming sight given he was a foot taller than Clarke and quite intimidating at first glance.

"Have a good day, Clarke."

"You too. And thanks for the treats!"

* * *

Clarke walked over to Lexa's table later that afternoon, finding her deep in research on her laptop with her half-eaten croissant on her plate. They hadn't been able to speak much between orders, but Lexa had looked her way at times and Clarke had managed to catch her eyes. Each time made her stomach swoop, but Clarke was determined to be the one to surprise her for once.

She put her hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Hi, you."

Lexa turned her head with a slight blush. "Hello."

Clarke sat in front of her, propping her chin on her hand. "Oh I get a hello today. Very formal."

"Is hello formal now?"

"With that tone and those glasses? Yes."

Lexa took off her reading glasses. "Am I being kicked out?"

"Not at all. Stay as long as you want. You can even stay after closing hours."

Lexa's eyes fell to her lips- Clarke's knowing grin. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Mm probably not."

Lexa closed her laptop. "So. Saturday. Doors open at 7pm."

Clarke sat up. "I'm excited. Though Wells has already warned me he'll poison my coffee if I drop any spoilers."

Lexa had offered tickets to Lincoln's play again, though this time she had made it very clear she intended it as a date. Clarke was thrilled to go to the theater after so long, especially since the play was fully booked for a solid six months. Nowhere Ground was a critical darling and word of mouth had worked like a charm.

"I was thinking we could hit Cocoa Street after," Lexa suggested. "Try some of the food trucks?"

"A woman after my heart."

Lexa smiled, her hand inching toward Clarke's on the table. "I figured I'd keep the upscale restaurant for our third date."

"Oh there'll be a third date?"

Lexa looked up from their hands, fingers not quite yet touching. "I would hope so."

"Well I don't know, I'll have to see if you have game."

"I thought you'd gotten a preview already." Lexa's fingers brushed against hers.

Clarke bit her lip. "Not that kind of game."

"What kind, Clarke?" Lexa asked smoothly as her thumb brushed over the back of Clarke's hand.

Clarke shook her head and sat back, letting go of Lexa's hand. "Nu-uh. I'm not falling for that again."

"What's that?"

"That- look. And your voice. You know what."

Lexa let out a small laugh. "I really don't."

"It's like a switch you have. It drives me crazy. But I'm not falling for it. I see you."

"Alright, I'll just be broody and quiet then." Lexa cleared her throat, amused. "Did Gus stop by today?"

Clarke brightened. "Yes. Speaking of, very sneaky of you. Wells is already raving about the chocolate-walnut pie."

"I'm glad. Gus kept asking me if he should make more. I'd never heard him so nervous."

"I didn't even know he baked."

"Never in a professional setting like this, but I can vouch for his impeccable manners. And his food."

"How did you meet him anyway?"

Lexa picked up the last bite of her croissant. "When I was doing research on the Mountain Men, I found out his property is the closest to the bunker site. A few miles down the mountain but still - I figured he had some information that could help me. I introduced myself; said I wanted to honor their story…"

"And you charmed your way into his life," Clarke guessed in a fond tone. She still had a few minutes before Gaia started side-eying her for flirting on the clock (not that it was a regular instance, but Lexa did come in often these days…) and then got Harper to ask endless questions to fuel their gossip mill. "I'm glad you did. I think he'd fit right in."

Lexa nodded, giving her a soft smile while they lingered in their last few seconds of privacy.

* * *

When Saturday night finally came, Clarke thought she might burst from the anticipation. Lexa lived close to the theater, so Clarke had suggested she be the one to pick her up before they walked over. She'd settled on her fancier boots, tights and a red dress, ever aware of the increasingly cold nights. She had her coat on but left it open when she finally arrived, fully leaning on the power of her own cleavage tonight. Slow didn't mean she couldn't have her fun.

"Wow. Um. Hi," Lexa breathed out as soon as she opened the door, eyes darting south of Clarke's lips.

"Now I get a hi," Clarke replied with a grin. She extended the flowers she'd brought on the way. "For you."

"Oh they're beautiful," Lexa said, genuinely surprised. Clarke wondered if she’d ever gotten flowers based on that expression alone. "Thank you," Lexa murmured.

"You're welcome," Clarke hummed. She waited for Lexa to come closer to reach for the sleeve of her shirt. "This is new."

"You don't like it?" Lexa asked.

Clarke almost scoffed. She was fairly certain Lexa knew exactly what she was doing, with her tight slacks and her dark green shirt just a hint sheer enough to see the outline of her bra. Paired with her loose curls and faint perfume, Lexa was already making her dizzy and it was incredibly unfair.

"I didn't say that," Clarke replied, pretending not to notice Lexa was going to kiss her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Lexa frowned briefly, only to smile a second later as she realized what game Clarke was playing. She'd asked for slow and it seemed like Clarke was taking it to heart. Perhaps a bit too much.

"Please, come in."

While Lexa went to find a vase, Clarke looked around. The apartment was on the small side, but during the day it was most likely brightly lit thanks to the two large windows. The balcony was filled with plants and flowers just as Gaia had once told her, but she hadn't mentioned the various hanging pots throughout the living room. Of course she couldn't have known. Clarke wasn’t sure if she was the first date Lexa had invited here since moving, but the progress in their relationship wasn’t lost on her. She’d never imagined being inside Lexa Woods’ apartment; not even when they’d started their little dance. It had seemed like another world.

Lexa came back with a vase that she set on the table by the window. "They're lovely," she reiterated.

"If I'd known you were so into plants I would've gotten a succulent or something."

Lexa looked around. "Oh those - the hooks were already there when I got here. Indra said the woman before me used to hang candle lanterns. I think she's relieved this place isn't a fire hazard anymore."

"Gaia said you're her favorite tenant."

Lexa smiled sheepishly, but didn't further comment. She glanced at Clarke's neckline before clearing her throat.

"Are you ready?"

Clarke nodded. "Very."

Lexa stepped closer. "You know… I sort of imagined this going differently."

"Oh?" Clarke asked, rooted in place.

"I figured after we'd kissed things would become easier," Lexa explained as she stopped inches from Clarke.

"You imagined us kissing?"

"Yes," Lexa answered honestly. "But I told you that before."

Clarke remembered the confession Lexa had made that night at the café and felt desire pool in the pit of her stomach again. How she’d thought about her; how she’d wanted this- them. She reached for Lexa's shirt, pretending to toy with one of the small buttons.

"It seems like we imagined a lot of things you and I," Clarke replied, swallowing.

Lexa brushed her nose against hers, testing her. Clarke felt her warm breath on her mouth and nearly tasted sweet mint. Her heart beat loudly in her ears until finally she gave in, tilting her head and pulling Lexa in.

The kiss was slow at first; Lexa's full lips pressing firmly against hers. Then Clarke felt her hand cup her neck and Lexa angle for something else, something deeper. She moaned when their tongues brushed and Lexa played with hers, chasing, teasing, while the lingering smell of the flowers mixed with her perfume and saturated Clarke's senses. It felt like she was drunk.

It wasn't the small hello or goodbye kisses they'd exchanged in the week; the hesitant pecks that had preceded the date that had seemed so far away on Monday.

"Are you sure this play is good?" She asked, slightly dazed.

Lexa shook her head, kissing her once more. "It's horrible. Mediocre. Let's bail and stay in."

Clarke let out a small laugh before kissing her again, deeper and slower, wondering if her heart would ever calm down tonight.

"If only."

[part ten]

#clexa #f: a bit of clarity #clarke x lexa #short chappie to get back into it #w

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