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queensusanthemagnificent · 3 years

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It’s Gushing About Cinderella 1997 Time Again

Okay, so instead of color theory, today, I’m looking at Cinderella’s journey with trust, the Prince’s inability to recognize her at the ball, and how that aspect of the original fairytale got utilized to further along the theme of learning to trust people to love you for who you are.

Part 1: The Prince Meets Cinderella

When the prince meets Cinderella just after The Sweetest Things, there is no magic involved at all, and he’s IMMEDIATELY smitten with her. Just thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and makes no bones about trying to figure out how to ask her out even after she’s excused herself to go about her day. Cinderella is visibly uncomfortable with the attention, but doesn’t completely turn him away. We know from The Sweetest Things that she WANTS love, that she yearns for it even, but the moment someone turns around and gives it to her, she doesn’t seem to know what to do with it anymore. She’s mostly confused by the prince’s behavior, but ultimately gains enough confidence and chutzpah to call him out on continuing to pester her even when she’s made it fairly clear she’s not interested by asking him if he even knows how to treat a woman.

And of course has her iconic line:

He sticks his foot in his mouth right after by saying she’s “not like most girls” which I will somewhat excuse as we know the prince has grown up massively sheltered and has likely not spoken to many women outside of the trappings of nobility who are all attempting to gain his or his parents’ favor, particularly as a suitor (we also know from a later scene that his mother has been attempting to set him up for a while and this is likely how he has met most women he’s ever interacted with).

Cinderella chooses to be forgiving and admits that she’s led a fairly sheltered life, thus how she’s gained her opinions I suppose, and the prince admits the same and they really seem to connect TOGETHER for the first time before the stepmother interrupts. Despite her choice to try to walk away from the prince when he initially showed interest in her, Cinderella risks her stepmother’s impatience and irritation by turning back one last time to watch the prince leave. She WANTS love, she WANTS to trust that someone could be interested in her like this, but she doesn’t completely trust it to happen or to last.

Part 2: The Prince sees Cinderella at the Ball

The next time the prince sees Cinderella is at the ball. He’s just spent the last several hours making nice with a bunch of women he doesn’t know and isn’t interested in so he can appease his mother. Presumably, he could probably expect the girl he met in the marketplace a few days ago might make an appearance given that the invite went out to all the girls in the kingdom, but he never mentions it. While it was clearly a nice connection to make in the moment, he seems to mostly chalk it up to a successful trip to the village, made nicer by a pretty girl and doesn’t think much about it afterwards, esp since the problem of the ball comes up immediately and his attention gets derailed.

In other words, the prince is not thinking about Cinderella anymore. Not maliciously, but he’s got other things on his mind, so when she shows up and he doesn’t recognize her despite having flirted with her only a few days ago, it’s somewhat understandable. Plus, she’s all made up with a completely different hairstyle and a nice dress and they have only met ONCE, for a few minutes total, several days ago.

But, that being said, while he doesn’t recognize her, he IS once again immediately smitten with her, and he does have that sense of familiarity, he just can’t place where. The problem then comes when he starts to try to guess how he knows her.

His guesses are all related to Cinderella being rich and/or nobility like him rather than considering that commoner girl he flirted with in the marketplace only a few days ago. Cinderella reacts fairly kindly to those guesses, telling him that she can’t swim, so she wouldn’t have been at the lake that summer, or that she’s never been to the mountains where his lodge is. But these assumptions eventually feed into Cinderella’s feelings of inadequacy and her fears that he won’t care for her when he finds out who she really is despite his initial reaction to her in the marketplace.

She starts to get flustered again when he calls her beautiful and her attention is drawn to how everyone around her is looking at them, but is effectively distracted by the Prince beginning to sing and only becomes flustered again once the King and Queen decide to insert themselves into the situation and get to know her and the reality of what seems to be happening hits her. She just intended to go to a fun party and dance a little, but now she’s gotten the attention of the Prince and it’s coming back to her that the point of the ball was for the Prince to find a WIFE. But she can tell, both from the Prince’s earlier comments and the ones made by the King and Queen asking who she is and who her family is, that they’re assuming things about her status that aren’t true.

Cinderella wants to keep living in a fantasy, though, where a Prince could love someone like her, so every time her reality comes into the conversation, she tries to move the conversation away. She wants to live in the bubble of romance the Prince is creating for her rather than talking about her family or what he wants in a wife.

And it works, right up until the clock strikes midnight and that reality crashes down on her like an avalanche.

Despite everything they’ve talked about that night, about how he knows she’s The One despite just having met her, about what he wants in a wife and how she seems to fit that description, about their feelings, Cinderella does not trust that he’s going to like her once he finds out who she is. Because despite how much time they’ve spent with each other (which, according to clock, is about 45 minutes now), he hasn’t recognized her as the girl from the marketplace ONCE.

Cinderella herself never mentions whether she recognizes the Prince from the marketplace or not, but we can fairly safely assume that she does. That moment meant a LOT to her, it was likely the first friendliness she had been shown in a while, especially by a stranger, and it hit her like a ton of bricks. It showed her that someone COULD be interested in her for who she is, could grow to love her.

And of course, meeting the Prince’s family at the ball gives her a sense of what it would be like to be part of HIS family, a family that already does seem to like her well enough and clearly care about their son. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of having, but they all believe her to be something she isn’t, and she can’t trust that they’d treat her the same if they knew. So instead of risking it all for love, for that dream, she runs again. She’d rather leave it one really good night and a lifelong what-if than get rejected one more time.

Cinderella runs home, back to what she knows, back to what’s comfortable. In the “Do I Want You” reprise, Cinderella appears wistful, but resigned. The Prince, on the other hand, seems almost more confident and determined. He’s smiling at the empty courtyard, even before he sees the shoe left behind. Cinderella is prepared to let everything go, but the Prince no longer is. She told him at the ball is that the problem with most people is that they only dream about things without ever doing anything about it.

So he does. He commits himself to finding her, even WITHOUT the shoe, he’s committed to finding her.

Part 3: The Prince Finds Cinderella

Obviously, the fact that the Prince has the need to go out and have everyone try on the shoe means he still has no idea who Cinderella is. He never asks her name at the ball, so he hasn’t connected her to the girl from the marketplace who DID tell him her name. He can’t just go into the village and ask for “Cinderella” yet. But the fact that he goes INTO the village at all means he has recognized that this girl could be literally anyone, commoner or nobility, and it doesn’t matter to him which it is. He’s making no assumptions about her identity anymore.

And then he sees her. In an obvious throwback to their first meeting, he finds her having just dropped all of her belongings in front of a carriage because it moved in front of her a little quickly.

Backing up, though. Cinderella’s gone through an entire journey during this time period. She left the Prince behind at the ball, ready to leave that dream behind as “impossible.” And gives it one last go with the family she was left with, trying to connect with them, be a part of it. And it fails. Again.

But it gives her the strength to realize that this was never going to work. And while she doesn’t believe she can be what a Prince wants, she DOES believe she deserves to be loved and deserves better than what her stepmother is dishing out.

So, the next day, while the Prince is out with a glass slipper, going through every eligible girl in the kingdom trying to find her, Cinderella is preparing to leave her childhood home and set out on her own. Even when she ostensibly DOES hear the Prince in the house, trying on the slipper with her family, she chooses not to make herself known to him, and walks away.

But not quite fast enough and the Prince sees her.

She is once again dressed as a commoner with no magic involved, and this time, the Prince immediately recognizes her both as the woman from the marketplace AND the woman from the ball. From behind. By referencing their first meeting where he initially made his interest known, he indicates that he still likes her despite now knowing her background, and perhaps even BECAUSE he now knows her background as the first woman he ever met who truly understood how he felt and treated him like a person, with kindness and respect, rather than like a Prince.

Cinderella has a choice here. He recognizes her, yes, but she doesn’t have to play along. She doesn’t have to turn around and admit to anything, she COULD, presumably, choose to keep running. But the fact that he RECOGNIZES her, finally, and still wants her, gives her just enough courage to turn around and trust him and confirm her identity, both as the girl in the marketplace and the girl who fits the slipper.

And it pays off. Trusting someone to love you as you are, having the courage to actually go after your dream, to let it come true, pays off.

Have I mentioned how much I love this movie recently? Because this is PEAK Cinderella, and I love this movie.

#cinderella 1997 #whitney houston #cinderella #rodgers and hammerstein cinderella #brandy norwood #paolo montalban #whoopi goldberg #victor garber

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downondilaudid · 4 years

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Anatomy Lesson

Reader has some sex trouble, out of all people to ask for help, she asks Spencer Reid.

Requested: Nope

Prompts: Nada

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: It’s pretty much just straight smut

“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.” -- Mae West

Your head fell back against the plush pillow with an annoyed groan. You threw the vibrator to the side, watching it roll across the bed, once again you were unable to achieve an orgasm. It was almost always like this, even in past relationships you found yourself having to often fake orgasms. You definitely didn’t have a low libido, you considered your sex drive to be slightly above average, but an orgasm for you was hardly ever attainable, especially not solo.

Maybe it was the fact you had always been a sucker for rough sex, it was easier for you to come while being totally dominated. All of your past relationships had been fairly vanilla, they either weren’t into it or still couldn’t get you off.

You were desperate for an orgasm at this point, were you doing something wrong, was something wrong with you? You had to find out, you had exhausted all of your options. There was one thing left to try, you had to ask Spencer, I mean, he was your best friend, and a genius, he would know. He wouldn’t find it totally weird, right?

You had decided Friday would be the perfect day to ask him, Friday, at the end of the day, where you could avoid him until Monday if the conversation headed South.

“Hey, uh, Spence?” You questioned, luckily, by the grace of God, you were the last two packing up to head home after a long week.

“Hm?” A sugar-crashed Spencer answered.

“I have a question, it’s sort of-Oh God how do I word this?” There was no backing out now, you had to ask.

Spencer stopped what he was doing, his brows furrowed in concern. He laid his files onto his desk, walking around it briskly towards you. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“No-no-I just, I was just wondering” you took a deep breath, letting your words flow together as fast as possible “how unlikely is it for someone to be unable to achieve an orgasm during sex?”

Spencer’s face flushed slightly, automatically stuffing his hands into his pockets, a habit you had noticed he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “I-uh-well, I mean, statistically during- uhm, intercourse, only around 20% of women have an...o-orgasm, and around 5% of women never have orgasms during intercourse.”

You nodded your head, keeping your eyes trained on your desk, straightening a set of files. Well, that was good to know, there definitely wasn’t something wrong with you then. Maybe you just needed a man's touch, and, yes, that is a horrible thing to say. Usually, you weren’t so dependent, especially dependent on a man alone, but you needed some form of relief, and if a male could give it to you, then you would take it.

Spencer cleared his throat, “are you, uh, having t-trouble?”

For some reason you didn’t want to answer the question, the topic was already embarrassing enough, and admitting aloud that you were having trouble orgasming doubled that embarrassment. “Y/N?” Spence’s tentative voice brought you out of your stupor.

Huffing, you grabbed the files shoving them into your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. You turned, continuing to look everywhere except at Spencer, beginning your trek to your car.

You were halfway to the elevator when Spencer caught up to you, his hand coming to lay on your shoulder. “Y/N, It’s nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, it’s quite normal, especially for someone who isn’t in a relationship.”

You pushed your shoulder back, moving away from his touch. “Let’s not talk about it, I shouldn’t have even asked, it was a stupid question.” You stepped into the elevator, Spencer hot on your trail.

“It’s not a stupid question, Y/N, it’s perfectly normal. Out of curiosity, are you just-is it just-vaginal penetration?” The elevator doors shut, and you were regretting ever asking the question.

“Nope, Spencer, it’s not.” You huffed. It shouldn’t be this uncomfortable to talk about your sex life, but this was Spencer we’re talking about. Spencer was practically asexual!

“Maybe you should try relaxing, your mind at least, sometimes if you’re distracted by other things it’ll become hard to achieve an orgasm. It’s actually the opposite for your body, a lot of women report feeling tension, especially in their abdomen and legs during or before an orgasm.” Spencer stated, watching as you walked out of the elevator, following after you.

Since when did Spencer get so open talking about sex? Sure he was a bit hesitant, but, to be honest, you didn’t even know if he was going to answer, let alone in this detail. “Thanks, Spence.” You said curtly, it was a little wrong for you to be so upset when you were the one who asked the question, but you were already stressed enough.

Here you were, one warm bath later, laying on your bed, butt naked, once again.

Still, you couldn’t orgasm. Shamefully, you had even gone as far as choking yourself, playing out one of the dirtiest fantasies you could think of in your head. When that didn’t work you switched to visuals, which definitely brought you closer to the edge, but wasn’t enough to push you over into the sweet bliss

Surprisingly Spencer didn’t say anything about your awkward encounter on Monday, or the rest of the week, until Friday. Once again, you and Spencer were the last two, Spencer had been going over the files from the most recent case, and you were filling out some paperwork, trying to get ahead of the load Hotch was going to give you next week.

“Spencer, it’s over. She’s safe, and that bastard is off to prison.”

He sighed deeply in response, one of his long slender fingers pressed thoughtfully against his lips. “I just don’t understand how I didn’t see it sooner.”

You scoffed, “Spencer, you may be a genius, but no one expects you to know everything, you don’t have to know everything. Spence, you’re going to kill yourself trying to figure out everything. You’re always so stressed, you just need to relax, let go, read a book, or listen to some music, do something that calms you.”

Spencer turned to you, his hazel eyes bearing into yours, “speaking of stressful, how’s your, uhm, problem?” His hands stuffed into his pockets comfortably.

You let out a short chuckle, as uncomfortable as talking about your sex life with Spencer was, the sight of Spencer flustered and stuttering was definitely humorous. “Spencer, stop trying to distract me, you need to stop stressing over closed cases.”

“So, you haven’t cum yet?” Spencer questioned, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

You swear your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, Spencer had never been that forward, especially not talking about sex, and especially not with you. Your mouth fell open, not completely sure how to respond.

“That was too forward, wasn’t it?” Spencer questioned, realization seeping through his voice.

You nodded your head, mouth still hung open.

“And you tried relaxing, but also simultaneously letting yourself be tense?”

“Yes, Spence.”

He went silent for a while, turning around and beginning to gather his things.

And you thought the conversation had ended, and he had decided to drop it, and hopefully go home and relax, but alas, you were wrong.

“You know, I could always, uhm, help you, i-if you want.” Spencer stuttered, his face flushing with an awkward smile.

At first, you thought you were hearing things, that sentence had not come out of Spencer’s mouth. You didn’t even know how to respond, he obviously wasn’t joking. I mean, sure, Spencer was very attractive, but you had never really thought of him as anything more than a friend.

“W-what do you mean?” You knew what he meant, at least you thought you did, but you didn’t want to risk being wrong.

Spencer grabbed his satchel, placing it across his body, “I mean I could help you, you know, help you, uh, o-orgasm.”

Holy Shit. You were right.

“W-we don’t have to, obviously, I just-it sounds frustrating, and I just-I want to help.” Spencer’s hands wrapped around the strap of his satchel, watching you with wary eyes.

“No-no, I get it, that-that’s very sweet, Spence, I just-won’t that change our friendship?”

Spencer shrugged, “not necessarily, Y/N, you’re my best friend, I want to help you. Plus it’ll be good for me too like you said, I need some sort of stress relief.”

You smiled, how on earth did you get so lucky to have a best friend like him, “thanks, Spence, that means a lot.”

“Just think about it,” Spencer said with a smile.

You nodded your head, turning to begin packing up your things.

You ran your hand over your sweaty face, pushing aside some hair. Still, nothing. At this point, you were very much ready to accept Spencer’s offer. Even if it did change your relationship.

Your eyes glared at the screen of your phone, the 11:04 seemingly taunting you, would he even be awake? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try

Y/N: Are you up?

You hit send, laying your phone next to you, you didn’t really expect Spencer to answer, at least not immediately, he rarely ever used his phone. But, like a lot of things lately, you were wrong, because your phone buzzed beside you.

Spencer: Unfortunately, I can’t seem to sleep. I’m assuming the same for you?

Sighing, you formulated a reply.

Y/N: Unfortunately, you probably know why…

His reply was almost immediate as if he was sitting there waiting for you to answer.

Spencer: My offer still stands.

You ran your hands over your face for what seems like the millionth time. Were you really going to do this, let Spencer come over and fuck you?

Y/N: How fast can you be here?

Yes. Yes, you were.

You paced back and forth in front of your door. You had brushed your teeth, and hair, luckily, you had already shaved today. Were you supposed to wear something, like lingerie? Was he even going to touch you, or just tell you what to do? What if he couldn’t make you cum? What if he wasn’t rough enough?

Knock, knock, knock. Three soft wraps on the other side of the door. Spencer.

You sighed, no turning back now. You moved, unlocking the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

There Spencer stood, clad in some simple plaid pajama pants, and a grey T-shirt. It was unusual to see him so casually dressed.

“Hey” you greeted shyly.

“Hey,” Spencer said, stepping into your apartment.

“S-So how does this work? How do you want to do this?” You questioned, gulping nervously.

Spencer chuckled surprisingly calm, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Y/N. This is about you, helping you get some relief.”

You smiled, biting your lip slightly, you had zero clue where Spencer’s newfound confidence was coming from, but you were enjoying it. “Well, I don’t know, I’m pretty much okay with anything, I guess.”

“How do you usually like to have sex, rough, soft, both? What gets you off Y/N, what turns you on?” Spencer stepped closer to you, his voice dropping an octave.

Your breath hitched in your throat, who knew Spencer had such a dirty mouth? “I-uh, well…” you trailed off.

Spencer moved forward once again, his large hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face, “something tells me you like it rough, you like to be dominated, totally fucked into oblivion.”

The room seemed to spin, and your lip caught between your teeth, at this point, you weren’t even sure if this was Spencer? Had you just let a random man into your apartment? Did an alien infest Spencer’s body and now it was here to kill you?

Spencer tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, but his hand continued moving, playing with the hair at the back of your head. Then in one swift tug, your head was yanked back, neck exposed. You let out a yelp, digging your teeth deeper into your lip. “Am I right?” He questioned, his hazel eyes now a deep brown with lust. His other hand ran a finger up your neck, watching you shiver.

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, somehow, it almost felt foreign to move your mouth, if he didn’t have you convinced before, he definitely did now. Maybe Spencer could make you cum, and maybe multiple times.

He tugged on your hair harshly once again, causing you to release a low groan. Spencer leaned in closer, placing his head next to your ear, whispering lowly “in case you can’t tell, I’m looking for an answer, sweetheart.” His finger trailed to the base of your neck, flattening his palm to run it up to your neck once again, his hand wrapping around the sides of your neck.

You whimpered lightly, letting your hands grip his wrist for support. Without thinking you breathed out a response, “yes, yes sir, you’re right.”

Spencer pulled his head back from your face, his dark eyes making contact with yours. “Mhm, good girl.” Spencer’s voice was low, and gravely, obviously, he seemed to enjoy this just as much as you did. His hand released your neck, shifting slightly so he could run his thumb over your bottom lip.

Once again, almost out of instinct, you took his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. If someone had asked what your plans were for tonight, never in your life would you think to respond “inviting Spencer Reid over to my house at 11 o'clock at night, then letting him fuck me.”

Spencer groaned lightly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, dragging it down your chin, wiping off the saliva. He brought his other hand up to cup your face gently, his eyes darting down to your lips. Taking the initiative, you stood on your tiptoes, bringing your lips up to his soft pink ones. Your mouths moved in sync as if this were an everyday occurrence.

You both pulled away, chests heaving for air. “Y-you’re sure about this?” Spencer questioned, concern filling his eyes.

You giggled, Spencer would never not be a gentleman, “I’m sure, Spence. I need this, and you need some stress relief, and if it’ll benefit us both, why not?”

Spencer chuckled lightly, “okay.”

Smiling, “okay” you responded.

“Is there-you know, anything that I shouldn’t do, things you aren’t comfortable with?”

You let yourself think for a moment, was there anything you weren’t comfortable with? You were very explorational with your sex life, and you trusted Spencer. “Not really, Spence. Just, do what you think will make me cum.”

Once again, the predatory look clouded over Spencer’s eyes, his lips curling into a smirk. “That's not my name, sweetheart.” He growled.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. “Sorry...sir.” You were slightly hesitant, you had already called him sir, but you weren’t sure if it was the name he was looking for.

A smack rang through the air and a stinging spread through your ass. Your body jerked forward pressing further into his, “shit! Sorry, daddy!” You cried, your eyes snapping open to watch his reaction. The daddy had slipped out, you didn’t know if Spencer would be weirded out, or into it, hopefully, the latter.

Spencer’s eyes widened, apparently, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Before you could correct yourself, one of his hands gripped your hips, roughly pulling you into him, and the other pulled your head to him, smashing his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his torso, trailing up his back and into his long hair, tugging at it. He groaned against your lips, his head falling back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck, Y/N, not what I was looking for, but, I definitely enjoyed it.” Spencer groaned out, his hands traveling your sides. Yet, you longed for more, you longed to feel his skin against yours, the weight of his hips between your legs.

You peppered kisses over his neck, relishing in the way his hands felt against your body. Spencer groaned lightly as you sucked at a spot at the base of his neck. His hands dug into your hips harshly, and you whimpered slightly at the pain. With a rough shove, Spencer pushed you away from him, both of you panting.

“I want you on the bed, naked, don’t touch yourself, just wait for daddy,” Spencer said, his voice dripping with an authority he only ever used in the interrogation room, and God did you love it.

You nodded your head in understanding, turning to walk to the bedroom. Once inside, the nerves hit, you were really doing this, you were actually going to fuck Spencer, and hopefully cum. Your shirt hit the floor first, the cool air causing your nipples to harden since you had opted not to wear a bra. Your leggings came off next, with only a little struggle due to the slight sweat that came with being aroused. Lastly, your thin lace thong, which you made sure to drop a little closer to the doorway, just so Spencer would notice it first thing when he walked into the room.

Spencer walked down the short hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet, alerting you of his approach. Quickly you sat on the bed, both legs and arms crossed in a means of covering yourself. As excited as you were to cum, that didn’t knock the anxiety of Spencer seeing your naked body.

Spencer appeared in the doorway, his teeth immediately biting down on his lip at the sight of you. He took slow steps towards you, maintaining eye contact the whole way. He crouched in front of you so his face was level with yours. His hands ran over your arms, uncrossing them gently before doing the same with your legs. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

A blush covered your face, it was incredible how quickly he could switch from domineering to sweet. Spencer leaned in, peppering kisses over your neck. His arms were placed on either side of you, his mouth working sinfully.

Your head leaned back with a breathy moan, giving him better access to your neck. Spencer's mouth worked over your collarbone, beginning to leave open-mouthed kisses in the valley of your breasts. “Such pretty tits,” he mumbled against your skin, letting one of his hands reach up and palm your breast. Your back arched into his touch, his warm skin against yours.

You brought your head upright, watching as he took one of your perky nipples into his pretty pink lips. “Fuck, Spence” you moaned out, placing your hand on the back of his head to run through his hair. Spencer’s teeth lightly grabbed your nipple, pulling his head back, tugging sharply. “Shit! Daddy, I meant daddy.” You corrected breathily.

Spencer’s mouth released your nipple, his head coming up to yours for a sloppy kiss. He pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He chuckled lightly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip to break it. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smiled, could this man get any more polite? “Yes, please just do something.” You begged.

“Ask and you shall receive” Spencer answered, a hint of playfulness in his voice. He moved slightly, situating himself on his knees. You bit your lip softly, wishing this intimate moment could last forever. His large hands rested on your knees, spreading your legs. He chuckled, “Mhm, so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your head tilted back slightly, ecstasy running through your body at his words. One of his hands trailed up your leg, stopping to rub soft circles around your clit. You moaned lightly, one of your hands placed behind you to keep your body upright, the other on the back of Spencer’s head playing with his hair. His pace sped up slightly, and you bucked your hips forward, aching for more. “Please, please, I need more.” You whined.

“Patience, love” despite his words, his pace sped up again, and your head tilted further back with a loud moan. “There you go, sweetheart, enjoy it.” He removed his thumb, and before you could complain, it was quickly replaced by his tongue, kitten licking your clit slowly.

You groaned lightly, the hand in his hair tightening its grip. “Yes, daddy, fuck.”

Spencer’s tongue sped up, his eyes gazing up at you, watching you squirm with pleasure. Spencer’s hand on your knee trailed up your thigh, his fingertips running up and down your lips.

You looked down at him, a whimper escaping your mouth at the sight. His hand parted your lips, pushing a finger into your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Spencer.” He didn’t correct you this time, instead, he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking lightly, while his finger began slow strokes in and out of your cunt.

A loud moan escaped your lips, your hips rocking lightly against his face. The tip of his tongue ran lightly over your clit, and his finger picked up the pace. “Mhm, yes, daddy, just like that.” Your hand tugged harshly at his hair, and you were sure it had to hurt.

Spencer’s lips released your clit with a pop, “are you close, love?” He questioned, a lust-hungry look in his eyes.

You nodded your head vigorously, “yes, so, close, please-just-please.” You could feel it, the knot building rapidly in your stomach, the tension in your legs. Spencer slipped another finger into your pussy, crooking them slightly, his pace becoming ruthless, hitting a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed. His lips wrapped around your clit again, this time sucking harshly, watching as your thighs shook around his head and your back arched, your hips thrusting into his face.

You let out a loud cry, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came. Your toes curled, breath hitched, and your thighs clamped down on Spencer’s head, whimpers and moans leaving your mouth. It was like pure bliss, and you had never been more thankful for Spencer in your life.

Spencer’s mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm, only slowing down when your chest began to heave for the breath you lacked. His lips popped off your clit, and his drenched fingers slid out of your pussy. “You made a mess, baby.”

You looked down at him, and never had you seen a more beautiful sight, his hair was tousled, and his chin was covered in your arousal. He brought his fingers to his lips, taking them in his mouth, cleaning off your arousal. You moaned at the sight alone, still slightly out of breath. Spencer pulled his fingers out of his mouth, placing his hands at your sides. He pushed himself back up onto his feet. “You want me to fuck you?” He asked, his voice low and strained, you could see why his erection was visible through his pants.

Your mouth hung open, you had just come, but somehow, your body longed for more, to feel his cock inside you. You nodded your head, your eyes pleading with his. His hand trailed up your side, sliding over your breast and up to your neck, choking you lightly. “Use your words, sweetheart.” He teased.

“Yes, yes, please fuck me, daddy.” You squirmed in his grip, body aching for him.

The hand on your neck pushed you back so you were lying flat against the bed. Spencer released your neck, quickly beginning to shed his clothes. You watched with hooded eyes, your thighs rubbing together for some friction. Once he was fully unclothed, he was on you, his mouth catching yours in a feverish kiss. Your hands wrapped around his torso, nails clawing down his back. He groaned at the pain, “ready for me to fuck you?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck me!” You groaned, reaching your hand in between the two of you to pump his cock. He moaned loudly in your ear, and you swear it was like you had died and gone to heaven. In one swift motion, he snapped his hips forward, burying his cock in you. You yelped, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your nails scratched down his back once again as he bottomed out, slamming back into you setting a brutal pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight for me, so perfect.” He groaned out. He stopped momentarily, his hands grabbed your thighs, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders. He pounded into you, this time balls deep. Your hands left his back, moving to grab your breasts, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

His hand shot up, wrapping around your neck lightly, causing your already dizzy head to spin more. Groans and curses left Spencer’s mouth, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tan skin. He looked like a God above you, and you had no idea how you got so lucky as to fuck him.

“Harder” you groaned out. Your hips thrust up to meet his, both of you working aggressively towards your orgasms. Spencer complied, his head falling back with a groan as he rammed into you. You screamed, eyes crossing as his cock brushed over your g-spot, your cunt clamping down onto his cock. “Fuck! Right there, Spencer, God, yes!”

“Oh, God, Y/N, such a perfect little slut for me.” He growled, his breath coming out in short pants. Incomprehensible moans and cries of Spencer's name left your lips.

Your hand on your breast crept up to Spencer’s hand around your neck, wrapping around his wrist. “I’m so close” you managed to groan out.

“Fuck, me too.” Spencer moaned, his voice deep and gravely. Your skin slapped against his with each thrust, the sound filling your bedroom. “Rub your clit” Spencer commanded, his hand held your hip in a harsh grip, which would definitely leave bruises.

You nodded, as best as you could with his large hand wrapped around your neck. You reached your hand down, using two fingers to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit. “I-I’m gonna cum.”

Spencer moaned above you, his eyes shutting, and his teeth biting down on his perfect lips. “Fuck, cum, cum for me.” He leaned closer into you, his swollen mouth capturing yours in a kiss. You pressed your lips desperately against his, teeth clashing sloppily.

You broke the kiss with a moan, your head falling back against the bed, and your back arching. The hand on his wrist squeezed harder, “tighter, tighter.” You cried, signaling for him to cut off more of your circulation. Without question, his hand tightened to the perfect pressure, and it was all you needed to send you over the edge into pure bliss. You came with a loud scream, that was sure to alert the neighbors, and your walls fluttered around Spencer’s cock, tears of pleasure flowing freely down your face. Everything in your body tensed, and your eyes rolled so far into the back of your head you’re surprised they didn’t get stuck there.

Your orgasm sent Spencer into his own, his head falling back with a deep guttural groan, his hands on your body tightening their grip. His body stilled, his cock buried deep within you, twitching and releasing his cum. “Fuck, Y/N, you perfect slut, ugh.”

Spencer’s hand released your neck, falling onto your hip. You gulped down the air like a fish, your hand releasing his wrist and coming up to rub your sore neck. Spencer pushed your legs off his shoulders, and his body collapsed onto yours, both of you completely wrecked.

You felt his hot breath against your neck, both of you panting like dogs. You could feel the sweat running down your forehead, mixing with the tears on your face. Your eyes were still closed, your body still coming down from it’s high. At that moment you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, not just because you were exhausted, but because you could wrap around Spencer like a sloth. You laughed lightly, running one of your hands through Spencer’s hair. “That was amazing” you breathed out.

Spencer chuckled into your neck, “I knew I could make you cum.” He pulled back, hovering on his forearms above you.

You giggled at his words, your hands trailing down his back, to his tense shoulders, massaging them lightly. With one last peck to your lips, Spencer pulled away, turning around. You giggled again at the sight of his bare ass, “as much as I love the view, where are you going?”

He turned back to you with a light-hearted smile on his face “I need to clean you up, I don’t think you want to go to bed with cum dripping down your thighs.”

You groaned, lazily reaching out for him, “but I’m tired.”

“And whiny,” Spencer replied, his voice muffled as he walked away from you and into the bathroom.

“I’m only whiny because I want to go to sleep, we can take a shower in the morning.” You attempted to sway him.

He walked back into the bedroom, a wet rag in his hand. You smiled, you could already see the multitude of love bites you left on his neck. “Your neck looks pretty,” you stated lazily.

Spencer laughed at your words, crouching down to run the rag up your thighs. “Yours does too, you’re going to need a lot of makeup to cover that bruise.” He was right, a bruise in the shape of his hand was going to be on your neck for days.

You let out a hiss as he ran the rag up your folds, still extremely sensitive. You sat up slightly, attempting to retreat further onto the bed and away from Spencer. His arms slung over your waist, pulling you right back to the edge of the bed. “The quicker I do this the quicker we get to go to sleep, sweetheart.” He chided.

You rolled your eyes, pouting like a child, “but it hurts.”

Spencer hummed in understanding, continuing to clean you, “you know, I was going to make you cum another time, but, I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Oh, please, I’d let you fuck me till I pass out if you made me cum like that again.” You laughed, watching as he threw the dirty rag onto the bedside table. He turned back to the bed, hovering over you once again.

His lips found yours in a slow, passionate kiss. “I’m holding you to that.”

You scoffed, pushing him off of you, “you better.” You turned onto your hands and knees, crawling to pull the comforter down. Spencer repeated your actions, crawling into bed next to you. You threw your leg over his, laying an arm across his chest.

“Here,” he said, sitting up slightly to slide his arm under your head as a makeshift pillow. “Next time, I’ll have to teach you how to make yourself cum.”

You sighed dreamily, snuggling further into Spencer’s warm body. You looked up at him, “next time, huh?”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his body shifting slightly away from you, “I-I mean, only if you want to-”

You laughed, using your hand on his chest to push him back down onto the bed, “ of course I want to.” You paused for a moment, “but, won’t that be a little...weird?”

Spencer laughed “Only if you make it, Y/N. Think of this all as an anatomy lesson” Spencer whispered breathily into your ear.

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler

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ampintherain · 3 years

Text

My Baby Love

*GIF NOT MY OWN- creds to theothersideoffantasy*

Owen Patrick Joyner x reader request!!!

Maybe the reader is part of the JATP cast and once at a gathering the cast starts teasing the reader about who she’d date among the boys. She gives her opinion on each boy but Owen gets upset when she says she wouldn’t date him because he’s a baby (even though she’s only 2 years older). She knows it’s stupid but it’s the only excuse she can find to fight her feelings. Everyone notices how oblivious they both are so at every occasion they keep mentioning how a great couple they’d make ? At the beginning Owen and the reader stay close but eventually the reader becomes more and more flustered and tries to distance herself to suppress her feelings. At the end they just have a heart to heart convo and kiss ? I need major fluff 😂

Requested By: @shimmeringfrenchie

I LOVED THIS REQUEST! I hope I can create the story you want💜

When I got the call to be in season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms, I never once imagined that it would end up like this- me falling for someone two years younger than me, I had never been attracted to someone younger than me before, I always went with older guys it was just something that I had always done so when I met Owen, I thought that he’d end up being like a little brother to me and that was what I had hoped.

“Hey Y/n!” I heard Charlie call my name as I was leaving the lot, I turned around to see the brunette running towards me with Owen close by, my heart began to race as I saw the blue eyes belonging to the gorgeous boy,

“H-hey” I stuttered, clearing my throat before regaining my confidence, “wassup?” I questioned, looking between the two boys, catching Owen staring at me, I smiled and tore my gaze away, focusing my attention back onto Charlie,

“Well, Owen and I are having some of the cast over tonight for takeout and we were wondering if you wanted to come? Savannah really wants you there” the brunette asked, I nodded happily,

“Well, if Sav wants me there, I guess I have no choice” I joked, just as Savannah walked past us, tucking me into her side

“That is very true, I wouldn’t want to endure a night with the cast without my best friend being there!” Savannah smiled. I had developed a very close friendship with Savannah within a week of filming, the first day of bootcamp she had showed me around and always made sure I was alright, we later realised that we had very similar interests and decided to move in together for the filming of the season and the friendship stemmed from there, she was most definitely my best friend and the truest friend that I had ever had.

“Fine, I’ll be there. What time?” I questioned, looking back over at the boys as Savannah squealed happily beside me,

“Does 7 sound good?” Owen asked, I looked up at him and my breath caught in my throat- he was single-handedly the most attractive person I had ever laid my eyes on and it was almost painful how much I liked him.

“Yep, sounds perfect. I’ll see you then” I smiled, waving the boys goodbye before walking off with Savannah, we wandered through the parking lot before reaching my car, we both hopped in and Savannah took a hold of the aux cord, playing her created playlist of all of Justin Bieber’s hits.

The time to leave for Charlie and Owen’s place soon came round, I changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie before slipping on my Converse and heading to the door with Sav. “Should we walk or no?” I asked, Savannah shrugged her shoulders, soon going for the option of walking considering the boys didn’t live that far away from us and it was a nice evening in Vancouver, “so, you and Owen?” Savannah questioned after a short silence, my heart rate quickened at the mention of his name, I turned to her with a confused look etched across my face,

“What?” I laughed, as we entered the boys’ apartment building and making our way up to their apartment, “I have no idea what you’re talking about” I rolled my eyes, knocking on the door lightly, the door swung open, revealing Owen smiling his award-winning smile, pushing his hair back from his face before stepping to the side, “hey O” I smile,

“Hey Petal” he said, giving me my usual nickname before pulling me in for a hug, I wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a tight squeeze, “Hey Sav” Owen continued, letting go of me and giving Savannah a quick hug, I walked further into the apartment seeing Madi, Charlie and Jeremy all sat in the den chatting away,

“Hey Losers” I joked, sitting next to Madi, she pulled me in for a tight side hug, pulling away just as quickly before crossing her legs and settling further into the coach. Savannah swiftly joined the group alongside Owen, sitting beside me whilst Owen sat next to Jeremy.

We had been at the boys’ apartment for around an hour or two, just eating pizza and chatting, “oh guys!” Savannah spoke excitedly, shuffling in her seat comfortably,

“oh what?!” Charlie mimicked Sav’s excitement causing her to glare at him

“We should play Honest” she suggested, looking over at everyone’s confused faces towards the game suggestion “Honest? You guys, it’s self explanatory, it’s like the best game. You ask someone a question and they have to answer honestly.” she shrugged, I turned to the girl sat beside me, raising a singular eyebrow, “Y/n/n, it’s the best game. Honestly. Come on, please guys” she whined,

“I think it’ll be fun” Madison smiled enthusiastically, as always, bringing the mood up and tempting the group into the activity that Savannah had suggested, Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and I chorused a small ‘fine’ causing Savannah to squeal with excitement, reaching over my head to give Madi a high-five.

“Okay okay, I’ll go first... Madi, what’s the worst thing about filming?” Sav questioned, Madi thought about it for a second or two, her eyebrows furrowed as she chewed lightly on her lip,

“I’d say the super early mornings and really really late nights, I’m definitely not used to this new sleep schedule... um... Jeremy, what’s your favourite thing about Carolynn?” Madison smiled, “I only ask because I love seeing your face when you talk about her... it’s so cute!” Jeremy blushed and looked down at the floor for a small moment,

“Okay, I have a lot of favourite things about Carolynn but, one of the things I love most about her is her heart, she has the kindest soul, she cares about everyone she knows so deeply and she is really willing to do anything for the people she loves, she puts other people’s needs before her own and I just think it’s the most beautiful thing” Jeremy gushed, causing the girls and I to ‘aw’ at him, he was totally loved up and it was something that I could only ever wish for,

“I wish someone spoke about me like that” I said, Jeremy smiled at me before asking Savannah which show she preferred to film- Julie and the Phantoms or Knight Squad to which she answered Julie and the Phantoms, giving the reasons of being able to sing and dance and she also mentioned how she loved the closeness of the cast, saying that we were more like a family.

“Okay... Y/n, who would you date out of the boys- y’know out of Owen, Booboo, and Charlie” Savannah questioned, refusing to mention Jeremy as we all know that he would never have been an option based on the pure fact that Carolynn was his soulmate,

“Right... well, I’d say, probably Charlie because as much as I love Boo, he’s more of an annoying brother and I’d just find it weird if we dated and Owen’s a little baby” I explained,

“Oh some I’m only your option because of process of elimination, great. Thanks y/n/n” Charlie joked, I rolled my eyes at him and looked over at Owen, I watched as his eyes lowered and his mouth turned down, he quickly faked a yawn before standing up off the couch and stretching, yawning again,

“Right, well I’m gonna head to bed, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Night” he said shortly, promptly leaving the den and making his way to his bedroom, he quickly stole another glance at me before shaking his head and entering his room. After that, the rest of us slowly started to disperse, Madi left first, then Jeremy and then Sav and I.

I crawled into bed and stared up at my ceiling, I couldn’t fight off the feeling that I had really upset Owen, it must’ve been me, I mean he was fine all night- he was engaged, laughing, cracking his stupid jokes and then everything changed once I said that he was a baby... I didn’t really feel like that, I mean, I liked him. A lot, it’s just that I’ve never really gone for younger guys before, I always dated much older guys. But there was just something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, something about him had me hooked and I couldn’t figure out whether it was a nuisance or something that I wanted to happen, all I knew is that however I was feeling, it was something beyond my control.

I just didn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t say that I was a control freak but I definitely didn’t enjoy not being able to have any type of control of what was happening in my life, I always planned on dating and marrying someone a few years older than me as that is what my mum did, my grandma did, and my great grandma. I don’t have any understanding on why I wanted to do the same as them, maybe it was because of my desperate need to impress the women in my family. They’re all successful and they always used to build up this pressure on me to be the perfect woman, I had no room for mistakes. So my falling for Owen, was not in the plan, something out of my control and quite frankly, it was driving me insane.

For the next few days, I tried to talk to Owen but no matter how hard I tried, it seemed that he was trying even harder to avoid me at all costs. “I don’t know why you would say that...” Charlie said as he sat beside me at the lunch hall, “it’s obvious you both like each other” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the boy, scoffing

“Yeah, right” I said, rolling my eyes and picking at my food, essentially just pushing it around the plate aimlessly, a silence fell over the two of us as I peered up to see Charlie staring at me with a look on his face as if it say ‘are you serious?’

“Y/n/n... you do like him. I don’t care what you have to say and how much you’re going to deny it. You like him” he shrugged just as Savannah sat across from us

“What are you guys talking about?” She asked breathlessly as she had just finished her dancing scene, I gave her an obvious look that she immediately picked up on “ohhh, Owen?” she questioned as I nodded slowly

“I was just telling our friend here, that she likes Owen and that it’s so obvious that she does” the Canadian explained blatantly, to which Savannah agreed, informing me that it was written all over my face whenever I saw Owen, or even whenever his name was briefly mentioned.

“You’re just caught up on the fact that you want to be like your mum and date older guys. The heart wants what is wants Sweetie, and your heart just so happens to want a 20 year old with lucious blonde hair.” Savannah joked, I rolled my eyes and stood up from the table,

“I refuse to stay here any longer with you guys just talking absolutely nonsense” I replied, shortly. I looked at the two people I was previously sat with before gathering my food and quickly throwing it away as I walked past the bin. I walked out of the small lunch hall and made my way to my trailer.

“Uh.. hey y/n. Wait up” I heard a familiar voice call, Owen. I turned around and smiled up at him nervously. We hadn’t spoken in days, only having fictional conversations as our characters but after that? Strangers. “Can... can we talk?” he questioned, rubbing the back of his neck. I nodded, unable to form any kind of functioning sentence, I silently ushered him into my trailer, closing the door behind me. Owen sat on my small loveseat and patted the spot next to him which I reluctantly took.

“Uh... so what’s up?” I questioned, spluttering slightly, I placed my hands in my lap, closing them and fiddling with my thumbs- a habit I picked up in middle school, whenever I was asked a question by one of my teachers, I would twiddle my thumbs over each other in a circular motion, I wasn’t too sure whether it was something to do with my anxiety or it had links to my thinking process and to this day, I’m still unaware of what it roots to but I have never been able to wean myself off of it.

“Did you mean what you said...” the blonde boy questioned me, “y’know, about how you wouldn’t date me because I’m a baby?” I glanced up at him quickly before diverting my attention to the plain wall in front of me. I inhaled sharply when I felt Owen’s slightly calloused hand make contact with my cheek, he held on to my face lightly as he brought my eyes to meet his own “because I’m not a baby Y/n, I’m just two years younger than you, it’s not like you were in high school when I was born. You were two. I’m not a baby” he reiterated, I nodded and sighed

“Yeah O, I know... I don’t know why I said it. I regretted it the second it left my mouth. Look, ever since I was younger, I was surrounded by women who all married men older than them and my mum always told me that that is how it should be, but it doesn’t feel like that with me... yeah I’ve dated olderguys but-” I cut myself off, worried that if I let all my emotions out to Owen, he wouldn’t reciprocate and I would officially ruin the entire friendship alongside the whole cast dynamic because there would be this awkward tension between Owen and I but just times by a million.

“But what?” he pushed, his thumb running along my cheek causing me to instinctively close my eyes at the blissful feeling it was giving me, the simple touch melted away all of my anxieties “actually wait” he spoke, causing my eyes to shoot open, the anxieties to come rushing back in, I glanced up at him and furrowed my brows together “Y/n, I like you. A lot, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anybody before. Hearing you call me a baby made me feel like you would never see me in that way, and it’s fine. Totally fine. If you don’t feel the same way but I just feel like I need to tell you everything I feel. Y/n, when I see you, everyone else just fades away. I physically can’t picture my life without you in it in any way, even if we just stay friends. I need you with me, you calm me down... so yeah” Owen said, the confidence in himself slowly fading as he continued to ramble, watching my face to see if I expressed any indication other than confusion, I slowly reached up and took a hold of his hand bringing it down in my lap and enclosing it with both of my hands.

“Owen, I like you too... that’s what I was going to say. I’ve dated a few older guys and they just never made me feel the way you do. Owen, you make me laugh so much, you make me feel protected and always cared for and I have never experienced that. Growing up, I had this pressure put on me by my mum, grandma and even my great grandmother, they all used to tell me that ‘dating older men is the way it should be’ and that’s all I thought of, I never thought that a younger guy would come along and sweep me off my feet but you did Owen Patrick Joyner, you really did and I can’t keep denying my feelings for you to everyone and especially to myself.” I breathed out, looking up at Owen with tears welling in my eyes just threatening to spill, Owen abruptly yet gently grabbed my face pulling me in close to him, his lips ghosted over my own as he let out a shaky breath

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted” he said before he pressed his lips to mine in a passionate kiss, I could feel butterflies erupt in my stomach at the feeling of his soft lips on mine, one of his hands moved from the side of my face to the base of my neck, pulling me in closer and deepening to kiss, my hands traced up his arms and draped themselves over his shoulders, toying with the ends of his hair.

This. This felt right, this was how it was supposed to feel. Electrifying, loving and passionate. I never thought I’d fall for someone younger but here he was, Owen. My baby love.

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dreamties · 4 years

Text

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them.

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship.

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it.

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates.

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing.

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say.

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think)

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them.

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally.

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting.

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do.

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries.

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

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arabian-bloodstream · 5 years

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Love and Lust

There has been some thought that the depiction of the sex between Arya and Gendry was just that of Arya wanting to see what it was all about or even just horny lust. While those were both clearly aspects of what happened, I think anyone seeing either of those things as the only interpretation of their love scene—because, yes, it was a love scene—missed out on quite a few key things not only in that scene but in their interaction earlier in the episode.

I also think that all of their interaction in this episode—including the lustier aspect of their lovemaking—made it fairly clear that, no, Gendry is not going to being dying in the upcoming battle. Read on…

The first episode established their attraction to one another with the flirting calling back to their shared history. This episode upped the ante with the attraction by adding a dose of lust, but deepened it by showing both the trust and ease they still share with one another that we know neither would easily share with others due to what’s happened to them in the intervening years.

There was a reminder of their history again (she remembered that he's a smith’s apprentice), he told her about beyond the wall, she called him out on glossing it over and made him tell her the truth. They were completely real with one another.

Arya showed Gendry her skill with a knife and her knowledge of death, making it clear how skilled a fighter she is, not hiding who she really is. Gendry told her that he was Robert Baratheon’s son, what Melisandre had done to him (in so many words) and his sexual history. That’s a lot of private, vulnerable information to share. And yet both did it easily. (Well, OK, Gendry was a bit cutely flustered with his last bit of share.)

There was so much stuff that the episode’s writer Bryan Cogman got in their two scenes... so much about their history, their trust in one another, their feelings, and how much set-up for what's to come to. All of that? Was showing how strong the foundation this relationship has.

I will circle back to some of these points later with regards to Gendry’s future, but first, let me tackle their other scenes. I mentioned at the top that their sex scene was a love scene and not just about horny lust or Arya wanting to try sex. And going into detail about that first scene was part of laying that down. But the second scene before the love scene as well goes into that.

It’s obvious with regards to Gendry that it is not just lust. The boy is completely gone for her. We saw that in the first scene after she threw the dragon glass knives and then said she wanted her weapon again and walked away, Gendry—unlike most sane people—looked completely awestruck and watched her walk away with hearts in his eyes. He’s completely lovestruck.

Also, in this second scene, after Arya made it clear that she wanted to have sex, Gendry’s said her name all soft and breathily. He didn’t pull away, he didn’t resist, he said her name and you could read exactly what he was saying in that exhalation of her name and by the expression on his face. He was saying: ‘Girl, you know I love you, but I'm not sure we should do this because I want to treasure you and treat you right, you know—’ But then she kissed him and he was like 'OK, fuck it, I'm having some SEX with milady! YEAH!'

And another so not just lust for Gendry, although this was more in between the lines. They wouldn’t have all but made the guy pretty much this close to a virgin. I mean… seriously. Honestly, I figured Gendry being practically a virgin would be fanon. I can’t believe that they basically made it canon. The guy was off of the show for three years—looking like that, fine as all hell—and they canonically had him actually say he only had sex with three women?! Bronn was literally with three women at the same time in the previous episode. I mean, yeah. Arya Stark is his fucking OTP. That essentially was the show’s shorthand way of saying so.

Finally, anyone saying that this love scene was just lust was not paying attention to the last five to ten seconds. The final shot of Gendry before she comes down for the kiss he's just looking at her with complete and utter love in his gaze. Joe Dempsie played that like Gendry just completely adores Arya.... total heart eyes there.

So, you know that had to have been the direction, in the script, the plan… not lust… but love. And there is this comparison shot from Jon and Daenerys’ first-time making love where she is looking up at Jon with love and it is LITERALLY the exact same framing. LITERALLY.

From a directing point of view that is really telling. Jon and Daenerys are supposed to be this great love and there you have literally an IDENTICAL shot of Gendry and Arya. What these two shared in this episode was a lusty love scene, not just a sex scene. You can feel lust and love at the same time.

And, yeah, it was love for Arya too. She just didn’t quite realize it. But look at her face as she’s leaning down to kiss him. It’s dark and we don’t get the best angle because it’s a close-up, but there’s a softness there you can see. Which leads us to that final scene. She’s not numb; she’s not dissatisfied. She’s freaking the ever-loving fuck out.

She was feeling all kinds of hot, hot lust for him sure, and then she opened herself up to the feels and suddenly it was hitting her, she might die, *he* might die. And it was gonna hurt. A LOT. She’d already lost him once and it was going to be a helluva lot worse now because she’d re-opened herself up to him a lot more now. And in the past, Gendry hadn’t allowed himself to open himself up to her, but now… this time he had. They were open to each other and now they could very well both lose each other. She was shaken to the core. That was what we saw from her in the final scene.

A few additional thoughts…

- I loved the parallels beginning each of their scenes. Gendry doing his thing and then there was Arya watching him silently in the first scene. In the second, Arya doing her thing, Gendry watching her.

- Speaking of Arya watching Gendry in that first scene, damn, she was all but licking her lips…

- And then that little eyebrow raise she gave him when he first saw her and that smoldering look he sent back her way in return.... SO HOT!

- Joe Dempsie and Maisie Williams have such great chemistry. Damn, that scene was so fucking hot.

- Hah, it was funny. Silly Gendry, he was trying to assert some kind of dominance at one point, reaching out to wrap his hand around Arya’s head while they were kissing.... and boom within like two seconds, she shoved him onto the bags, LMAO. Nope, Gendry, she's the dominant.... always.

- Aww, but she let him take off his own pants. She was in complete command from beginning to end, but still gave him his own agency. She's so sweet. It was definitely mutual all around.

- Speaking of… after Arya said that, the way he was so quickly untying those laces, LMAO.

- I did love that Arya just shoved him down (and, yes, it did remind me of when she did it when he kept calling her “Milady” back in season 02).

OK, circling back to Gendry’s future like I said I would… a lot that happened in this episode between these two actually made me more strongly believe that Gendry will *not* be dying any time soon. Why?

1.) Arya’s commentary about knowing death. 2.) Her knife-throwing kills. 3.) The focus on her scars, and then Gendry focusing on her scars. 4.) Gendry bringing up her wanting him to come to Winterfell. 5.) The fact that despite all of the set-up and the obvious love from Gendry’s side, Arya went into it just wanting his hot body to give her some loving. 6.) Gendry telling her he’s Robert Baratheon’s bastard. 7.) Arya’s realizing that she’s scared out of her ever-loving mind of losing Gendry (because, yeah, I’m sure that’s what the final scene meant).

In other words, there was SO MUCH SET-UP for more of their love story to flourish to come. Not to mention that Gendry still has more weapons to make, the Baratheon line is not going to die out. GRRM had three Baratheon bastards in the books and yet D&D only brought ONE to the show. I highly doubt it was just so that Arya could lose her virginity to him. If it was to have an “emotional impact” on her when he died… she would have been the one all “heart eyes emoji” during the love scene as opposed to Gendry.

Also, Joe Dempsie is wearing a Baratheon-style costume in the behind-the-scenes video for episode 01 while sitting on the set of a sunny climate and I doubt that Michelle Clapton would have created that for funsies.

Ergo, Gendry is not dying.

Thank you for coming to my Gendrya-themed Ted Talk.

#arya x gendry #gendrya #game of thrones #arya stark #gendry

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stipethom · 4 years

Text

I wrote some Cablepool fics some months ago but proofreading is such a bitch, so they were incomplete for now. I’m just gonna post some parts of it and hopefully there are more Cablepool people who loves mpreg as I do.

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In summary, Mpreg theme uses pregnancy to describe how women and gender/sex minorities are impregnated with the unspeakable powers of patriarchy. Pregnancy is not just a biological phenomenon; it symbolizes embodied experiences, where women’s body is changed and exploited as it bear the burden of child labor. And by forcing such changes upon male body, it declares that any sex and gender that is seen less than a “man” can thus be a “woman”, and that whoever they are their struggles and pains are similar to that of women’s in this world.

In mpreg fics, there’ll be tears, fight, divorce, and broken hearts. It’s fan-favorite melodrama. It’s barnyard humor. It’s self-service to the writer’s own kink.

It is all of these. Or, it’s none of these.

They put all kinds of wires to link Wade with medical equipments. X-rays him, scans him, takes some blood from him. They declares that what’s inside Wade is not a parasite. Not another tumor nor a clog. It is, as the tag suggests, a fetus.

Some other X-students gathers as soon as the word is out: the Deadly mouthy ‘pool’s pregnant. The next session, Wade is unhappy with the amount of audience in the supposed waiting room, looking expectedly at him. From hindsight, it’s better they were there at the time, to spare Wade the horrors of explanation.

Unplanned male pregnancy should have been a comic relief since it’s Deadpool. But when the results indicate that it belongs to a certain Nathan Summers, who recently died, it is no longer a joke.

Cyclops, as his role in any other Cablepool fics, has to be the last one to know it. He learns of the identity of his future grandchild and immediately decides to rushe back to the mansion to confront whatever nightmare awaits him. He briefly talks to Hank, in order to prepare himself before talking to Wade. Eventually, a consultation team that comprises of Cyclops and Beast visits Wade’s at his apartment, who just comes back with discounted pregnancy tests from CVS.

“We must talk about your condition, Wade.” Scott says solemnly.

“Sorry, Grandpaclops, will remember to use protection next time. Guess I should never underestimate dicks from the future.”

Scott clenches his teeth. His expression is hidden under his ruby optics, but Wade can see the tiny creases around his mouth, and he gets the feeling that Scott is anxious. Ans so, so very tired. Hank clears his throat and starts talking about his discoveries. Half of his talk is explaining his daring theory of why life form can be conceived inside a male’s body, which Wade doesn’t listen to. The other half is some warmings on what a pregnant man should not do. Given Wade’s profession and personality, Hank makes 100% sure that Wade listens to him. Scott seems to be holding breath as the other mutant talks with a professional calmness.

The talk ends with “We still don’t know exactly how it happened, but It’s going to be a big responsibility—your responsibility.”

Scott tries again. He keeps his voice strategically even, a little raspy than usual, as if he practiced this conversation in front of a mirror too many times.

“It’s yours, as much as it’s Nathan’s. It’s up to you to ... keep it.”

“Or you can move into the X-mansion—”Hank stops promptly when Wade starts laughing.

“So your guys are what, showing parental support for the guy your son never actually married, and you never even doubt it’s a parasite?”

“We ruled out that possibility.” Hank says, “you know, you don’t have to do this.” He pauses briefly, making sure every sentence is carefully worded. “After what happened, you—in fact, nobody should do this alone. It’s unfair that you have to deal with it on your own.”

Great, now they think of Wade as some mourning ex-lover of Nate’s. He has to find something witty to say, or he’ll just embarrasses himself in front of these two good-intentioned, somewhat guilty-looking X-men. There’s a sorry somewhere that he can reads directly from the thin air, sorry we are so sorry for pushing you away, we are sorry we didn’t accept you—and ignored your feelings— now we are here to make it up for you. No, this ain’t right. They don’t know about him and Nate. All they see is this, which makes them assume all kinds of things about them, about Wade, that Wade doesn’t even want to think about.

He decides to take advantage of their out-of-no-where-guilt because it is better than pity, “OK, wait, is this the part where we hug and cry on each other’s shoulders? I have a feeling there’s always a but. Besides, Hank, you just violated the confidentiality agreement without my consent!”

“I’m truly sorry, it’s an unprecedented situation.” Hank tries not to look shameful. “And, no, no buts. All we’re offering is a place to rest before the, that is, if you want to keep it, It’s very important when it comes to—“

“Nathan’s spawn.” Wade helps him finish the sentence. “That’s why you X-men fucking care. “

Cyclops doesn’t say a word, but he thinks so loud, he is practically radiating sadness and anger, and worst of all, the anger is not even directed at Wade.

Wade snaps.

“Tell you what, I’m gonna fucking keep this little shit till it’s got eyes and fingers and then I’ll fucking abort it! I’ll put it in a filthy jar and sell it to Mister Sinister, and it will be none of your fucking business!”

—

Of course Wade didn’t abort it. And he did move into the X-mansion.

Everyone seems worried. After all, X-men are worried all the time—but they also look slightly relieved. If Wade ignores the eyes they are giving him, the whispers they exchange when they think he is not looking, he almost feels nothing has changed at all.

The big question, after the several years after Nate died, still hangs in the air. Every time someone looks at Wade, there’s a why in their eyes. A mutant like Nate, who is supposed to be a man of proper taste and good integrity, the reasons that he chose to be with Wade is unthinkable.

Any sane human would tell Nate what he did is ridiculous. Like the voice in the back of Wade’s mind. It tells Wade all the time that he cannot possibly believe that him and Nate could last any longer—or long enough to have any consequences.

Being pregnant is not the consequences. It’s the last one of the bad decisions he’s made after all the other ones. He knows the voice is right, and his life sucks mostly because he doesn’t listen to it. This time, he feels a certain remorse satisfaction in disobeying the remaining sense of reason in his head.

Keeping the baby to prove a point is as desperate as it’s poorly intended.

He knows how fucked-up this is.

—

In hindsight, it’s fucking creepy that Wade, Copycat, and Domino all slept with Nate.

Here she is, gonna pop open that can of worms.

Domino has to come to him at his most inconvenience. She knocks three times on the door, each time more curt and determined. She will probably shoot a hole in the wall to make a new door if he doesn’t let her in.

Wade opens the door, grimaces at the way she look at him and meet his eyes. He is a good few inches taller than Dom, but he never feels big in front of her.

She brings in an air of feline elegance and the fresh scent of hair shampoo. It’s endearing for her to allow people to see her like this, yet not entirely unguarded. He catches the innuendo of a more secret, private conversation.

Her eyes touch him lightly, hair flares with the effortless chic style many would be jealous of. There are a hundred things Wade lacks that she owns.

The night is getting dark and the wind is getting wild, he probably should close the window before the storm.

Dom is less of a coward than him, who could barely come up to people and tell them the truth. That he got himself into this long before he understood the true meaning of having someone and then losing them.

She is pretty and deadly as always, not jadded by battles and gunfire. She looks at him with a sadness of someone who think they have the pieces of a puzzle that Wade misses. Or at least they think they know.

“Why do you keep him, the baby—.” She leans against the wall, arms crossed. “He’s not going to be Nate. Nate is not here anymore.“

“Wow, wow, lady, now you’re just projecting too hard.”

“Wade, look. It took me a hell lot of drinking to accept that he’s really gone this time.” She keeps her voice steady and manages to be soft at the same time. “I hear you talk to him like, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m not projecting.”

“Just so you know, I talk to my tummy all the time. Totally healthy habit. Been like this since I’m in my mom’s womb.”

“You’ve been talking to him and you sounded like—never mind.” Now she is just being weird. Wade feels offended that someone dare to outweird him without his royal permission. “The baby—you are drowning him with things he’s not part of.”

“Drowning would be a damn boring way to die.” He comments. “In fact, I’m whispering murder thoughts to him so he can grow up into a killing machine. A cyborg one. Just like his dad.”

“Wade, I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Oh sure, you’re here to remind me to invite you for the baby shower, which I am seriously going to reconsider with the guest list.”

A strip of dark hair falls on her cheek as she hesitates.

“You know why I’m here.”

Honestly, Wade’s fed up with this. He didn’t respond, instead, he peels off his mask, challenges her to look directly into his eyes.

She looks flustered, but her thin shoulders are as still as granite. This close, Wade can see how her breast heaves under her loosely-fit shirt. It fucking hurts when he rips through her facade and finds something a lot like the reflection of his own pains. They both had Nate in the past, and now that Nate is the past, they are weirdly equal. They had different Nates, but Wade wants all the Nates.

The voice in his head is so loud that he can barely think his own thoughts. Is that why he came to her after Wade left Providence, for her is smart enough to ask for only what she deserves?

Does she come here to pity Wade, or is she seeking compassion from Wade? He feels an old, dull bitterness creeping up his spine.

Domino backs off a little, “I never liked you.” She says. They both know it, so it’s not really a confess. Something is blown in to the window, making a cracking sound. Both of them shiver. “I couldn’t believe it was you, of all people. “Oh, so she did care. She was not as nonchalant as she pretends to be. “But now you are-you are not just yourself-I don’t want to fight you anymore.”

It stings.

“Does that mean I can finally make your face my new bathroom tiles? Because I love baby poo on black and white.” He quirks a smile. “Oh, And by the way, I reject your nanny application. Bring your broom next time.”

“You hate me for a dead man.” She says dryly, “what does that make you...”

Her voice hitches.

“What does that make us. If we are still loyal to him.”

The wind is loud, and others must be awakened by the noises by now. If wind could talk, it must be full of broken sentences, murmuring and fleeing from the untrimmed trees, circulating in the flying dirt and the waving foliage. Some sleepless mutant girls on the second floor mutters in an annoyed voice.

Dom reaches out to him. Her arms are pale but firm. They are suddenly within the distance of a kiss. He feels his cracked lips nearly brushes hers like a breath.

She jumps back, hitting the nearest surface to her face. The window panes creak from the shockwave, sending the whole room whirls. For a moment they were close enough to dig out each other’s heart. The framed painting falls to the ground in broken pieces behind them. It is relatively intact until Neena steps on it.

“A hard loser, aren’t you.” Wade breathes.

Neena just smiles.

“It’s just you who can’t let go.”

She stubbles on the cracked frame before storming into the bathroom. Wade hears the hot water pours out of the faucet and makes maps of mist on the hanging mirror. Her reflection from the mirror shifts, and from Wade’s angle, he can see her tears.

A small sob sound leaks out of her beautiful mouth. Wade feels envious yet again. He doesn’t understand why it changes how Dom sees him, as if sharing pain with him would be some comfort for both of them. But it doesn’t, he wants to scream, and it shouldn’t. He hears other mutant kids are giggling through the wind, and he is so, so envious of them.

Before he closes his eyes, he feels a light patting on his shoulders, and then all the light runs out with the slapping of the door.

He knows this is fucked-up.

“Nate,“ he murmurs, “If you don’t plan yo come back, I don’t think I can survive this—your too-young-too-be-dad dad, your ex-girlfriend, and your very possessive and angry daughter who refuses to meet me yet—I now understand why you want to elope with me into the future. I’ll forgive you for never asking me to actually run with you, but I know you always wanted to.“

“It’s fucking worse when people try to care. They don’t know you. They don’t know how fucked up you are. All they want is to keep a memoir, and I’m their freaking memoir. What did we have, sweetheart, did we ever agree on anything, huh? Did you even think about what it would be like for us to be together long enough to have consequences?”

“You see, Nate, I’m the one living with the consequences now. Except that you’re not here.”

#mpreg #Cablepool #Nathan Summers #Wade Wilson #Cable #Deadpool

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

Text

FFT: candy hearts taste like chalk; mjf

Notes:

This one was sent to my main by @vonschweetz and I had to go there with it. Because what better than to make MJF a secret admirer.. Anyway, I thought I’d post it on here, so it has it’s own post. So, here it is.

Summary:

Girl and guy argue but there’s a mutual crush thing happening here. Guy decides to romance the shit out of girl as a secret admirer. Maybe this opens girls eyes to the fact that there’s more than just a burberry scarf wearing ass and fluff ensues. Kinda.

Pairing:

MJF x OFC, Jessa

Warnings:

fluff and shenanigans. valentines day shenanigans. anti-valentine ofc.

“ Valentines is the corniest holiday, by far.” Jessa said it as she passed beneath a red garland of dangling hearts and arrows. She paused to swat at it, scowling upward at the ceiling as she laughed. From beside her, Penelope Ford spoke up. “Says the girl who probably couldn’t get a date tonight if she stood on a corner bare ass naked.”

“ That, coming from the woman with Kip Sabian. Did I ask for the opinion of an actual dumpster fire? Didn’t think so.” Jessa quipped as she jumped up, fingertips snagging the garland, giving it a firm tug downward. The garland came down, bringing with it a loose dusting of vibrant fire-engine red glitter and Jessa swatted at her neckline where some happened to settle, giving the tops of her breasts a generous dusting of sparkle that she didn’t want or need.

“I’ll say it again. At least I have someone to spend Valentines with. You will never know that luxury.”

“And thank God above for that because I think I’d rather gouge my own eyeballs out than spend any amount of time with Kip Sabian for any reason. I prefer men who don’t spend more time in the bathroom than I do, thanks!” Jessa mimicked a sweet tone with Penelope as she walked away backwards, her middle finger up and the sweetest smirk she could manage on her face. It was the walking backwards that caused her to collide back first straight into the chest of a very amused MJF.

Jessa whirled around, about to apologize, but when she set sights on MJF towering over her, she bit her lip, grumbling quietly. “Well tonight is truly the gift that keeps on giving. Are you gonna move?”

“Ya know, a ‘hey Maxwell’, would be nice. Also please move. And maybe throw in ‘you’re so hot, Maxwell, while we’re at it?” MJF stared her down, his arms folded over his chest as he watched her facial expression change three different times. He loved irritating her, her face got all flushed and sometimes he managed to do such a good job that she actually stammered and wound up growling and flipping him off instead.

Deeper down though, he really wished that it was easier just to talk to her. Because he couldn’t get her out of his head. It drove him insane. Their confrontations always left him more than a little bothered. Not in a bad way, either.

He kept telling himself he had to do something, he had to learn to shove whatever it was that he felt way down deep because they’d never realistically work, he was one way and she was his polar opposite, but this stubborn part of him kept insisting they would. They had to. He wanted her and when he wanted something, he stopped at nothing to make it happen.

“Not as long as I have a pulse, Maxwell.” Jessa deadpanned, even though as she said it, she found herself getting lost in endless pools of milk chocolate brown and hating herself for being a girl who went gaga over a guy with deep and soulful eyes.

Which unfortunately, Maxwell Jacob Friedmann did have, despite him having absolutely no actual depth in personality to her own personal knowledge. … doesn’t stop me from being attracted to him like one end of a magnet to the other either, she thought to herself, frowning a little at the thought. They’d literally never work out.

She went to step past him and his hand shot out, gently gripping her wrist to raise her hand. His eyes settled on the glittery red garlands she’d been racing to the nearest garbage bin with and he eyed her, a perplexed facial expression that made her giggle and shrug under his intent gaze. He nodded to the garland finally and cleared his throat. “What’s the matter? Someone a little jealous at all the happy couples around her?”

Jessa’s brows rose and she laughed, snorting a little as she did. It was cute. MJF had to give it that much. He stepped a little closer, his free hand lingering at her hip ever-so-slightly as he continued to stare, his eyes breaking from her eyes to wander down and settle on a plump set of cherry-colored lips. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of just going for it and kissing her right then and there, but he reigned in the urge to do so. “Are you gonna answer me, beautiful?”

Jessa’s stomach fluttered.

…. It’s gotta be gas station nachos, there is absolutely no way I feel anything other than irritation for this gigantic douche…

Even as she had the thought, she KNEW deep down that was totally false.

“They were hanging too low in the door. It was annoying?” - fuck, why did that come out like I was asking his permission to move something that was in my way? Jessa finally answered and as she wondered why she’d done it, MJF was prying the garland from her hands carefully, his gaze not breaking from her own a single second as he smirked. “Are you sure that’s the only reason, princess? I mean you’ve been skulking around here all week moody. I think you’re lonely.” he clucked his tongue and shook his head. He honestly didn’t get her. He’d never seen anyone so repressed before and it bothered him because he knew that with her level of repression, sooner or later, an explosion was incoming. And she had nobody she was particularly close to that she could actually sit down and confide in. It had to be lonely.

… just admit it, you wanna be the one she does that with… the thought crept it’s way in, only to be shoved right back out because MJF wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that of all the women he could have fallen for, it was the one who hated pretty much everyone.

“I don’t get lonely, okay! I don’t..” her voice dropped just the slightest when she realized that she’d practically shouted the first part and people were watching them, “I don’t need anybody. This is just a stupid fuckin holiday that people use as an excuse to bribe people into thinking they like them when any of the other 364 days of the year, they couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.”

The outburst was more telling than she realized and it gave MJF an idea, of sorts. A way in. At this point, he was grasping at straws where she was concerned, because every idea Allie bounced off of him just didn’t seem to work. It’d either be too much or not enough. But this one, this idea he was getting… It was simple and perfect.

“Maybe they do. They just can’t say it because you won’t hear it.” MJF mused, biting his lip as he gazed down at her. He halfway hoped that by now she’d pick up on the way he treated her worlds differently than he treated the others, but she hadn’t. If anything, it only seemed to make her edgier and alienate her more.

Jessa blinked and shook her head. For just a second there, it seemed like he was trying to hint at something. And the thought was a mixture of concerning and comforting. She found herself wondering again why MJF seemed to treat her with kid gloves sometimes, not willing to get as down and dirty when they had their war of words like she was.

“Whatever, Maxwell. Either way, this garland? Headed for the garbage.” she worked at prying it from his hand. Their hands wound up touching a time or two and she sucked in a breath at the warmth and the roughness of his hands. Certainly not the hands of a rich pretty boy, she found herself thinking and naturally, her mind chose to take that a step further, definitely a feeling I’d like to feel all over my body.. And she was shaking her head as if to shake that thought right out of it.

“Hey, whoa! Maybe just give that to me. I can find somewhere else to put it.” MJF took the garland back quickly, holding it out of the petite hellion’s reach though she leaped for it a few times. She pouted and bit her lip as she stared up at him, stepping away as soon as she realized just how close she’d been standing to him.

That designer cologne he wore was haunting her now, she’d probably smell it all night and catch her mouth-watering. She tucked some hair back behind her ear and swallowed hard, nodding to the garland. “Fine, whatever. I..I don’t have time to deal with you right now.” Jessa whirled away, so flustered that she started to head down the wrong end of the hallway. She swore and backtracked, walking past him as quickly as possible and definitely not meeting his gaze as she did so.

She fell into the makeup chair dramatically and let out a long groan as she closed her eyes. From the seat next to her, Allie giggled and spoke up. “Dramatic entrance. I’m going to assume that you’ve already had a run-in with Maxwell tonight?” she asked as she slicked cherry colored gloss on her lips, puckering up at her reflection in the mirror.

Jessa grumbled and dug around in the makeup kit sitting in front of her, casting aside product after product. “Why do I even bother with this crap? I’m here to fight, not look pretty. If I’d wanted to do that I’d have gone the America’s Next Top Model route.” she slammed the lid of the case shut and Allie stood, gracefully stepping over to the chair Jessa sat in, taking hands full of Jessa’s soft dark brown locks into her hands. “You could’ve done it, ya know?” Allie mused almost nonchalant. Jessa eyed her warily.

Allie found herself praying to God that MJF hurried up with whatever he was up to because she could only keep Jessa occupied for a limited time; Jessa wasn’t known for patience. Or sitting still. Or making conversation for extended periods.

The girl was living, breathing chaos.

She honestly still couldn’t figure out what got MJF all stirred up over her and if he hadn’t given her the impassioned speech he had last night when he enlisted her help for tonight and his attempt at romancing Jessa, she never would’ve agreed to it because she’d seen quite a few less fortunate girls meet with heartbreak at the hands of the man.

She was massaging Jessa’s scalp and she gave a soft laugh when she heard Jessa sigh and saw the woman’s eyes flutter open and closed. “Scalp massage. They really do help your hair. Especially for those with manes like you’ve got yourself here. How do you deal with your hair being so thick?”

Jessa shrugged. “I don’t like change. It’s easier to just throw it up than to cut it off and miss it.” As Allie’s fingers moved haphazardly over her scalp, she found herself going back to the way it felt when she and MJF accidentally touched a few times. And the look in his eyes when he said what Jessa felt had to be a hint at something.

“Well, it’s gorgeous. Maybe if we just moved a little out of your eyes so it’s not always getting in the way of your view…” Allie eyed the way she’d grabbed Jessa’s hair in the mirror and she grabbed for a few pins the same shade as Jessa’s hair and she slid them into the area she’d been holding, stepping back. “Ooh. I like it.”

Jessa eyed it and then Allie. She gave a little smile and shrugged. “Yeah, why not. Listen,” she gestured at the makeup kit in disgust, “Apparently, I have to wear this shit. So.. Whatever you wanna do, I guess?”

Allie clapped her hands together, giving a laugh similar to the ones she gave during promos and she opened the kit, setting to work. Jessa just sat there letting her because if she had to admit it, she could do her own makeup just fine, she was just far too lazy to be bothered. So, every week, she pulled this trick with the other women.

Her favorite time arguably was whenever Riho or Nyla happened to be present. On occasion, it was enjoyable whenever Kris was around and felt like doing it, because she always had creative ideas.

As Allie was getting ready to pop some false lashes on Jessa, her cell phone lit up. She went ahead and put on the lashes and Jessa sat blinking, giving a soft laugh. “Fancy! I don’t entirely hate these. Thanks.”

Allie nodded and smirked at the other woman. “I’m heading down to change. Maybe we can walk down together?”

“Why not?” Jessa shrugged mildly as she slipped out of the chair, falling into step beside Allie. As soon as they got into the locker room, Jessa hurried over to her locker, pulling it open.

The box of conversation hearts sat there and she glanced around, brows raised and a confused look on her face. “At least it’s not the kind that taste like actual chalk.” she took out the box, opening it and pouring some in her hand. She’d been just about to eat them but she stopped when she realized that they all said the same thing.

“I Want You. Okay then, stranger with candy.” Jessa muttered as she poured the candies in her hand into her mouth. Allie laughed from beside her just as Jessa noticed the single dark red rose leaned against the inside, with a card and she reached for them. “What?” Jessa eyed Allie who simply shrugged and went back to dressing for her match.

Jessa tore into the envelope, eyes darting over the card. “ Roses are red, that much is true. But violets, they’re purple and definitely not blue. Enjoy the mystery and by the end of tonight; I’ll reveal myself to you.” she muttered the words, giving a quiet snort. “Not too shabby, I’ll say that. Whoever did this probably got the wrong locker.” Jessa’s fingers wound through her hair and she flipped over the red envelope, a brow raised at her name scrawled across the front. “Okay, so it’s for me. Oh god, I know what this is!” Jessa gave a soft laugh, peeking behind the lockers that separated the front of the room from the showers and toilet stalls in back. “Okay, you guys can come out now.”

Allie raised a brow and started to ask what exactly Jessa thought was going on, but she didn’t have to because Jessa turned to Allie and shrugged. “This is a joke. I mean.. It’s gotta be, right?” as her brows knit together in total confusion. She tossed another handful of the candy hearts into her mouth. Allie bent down, picking up the torn book page from the floor as she held it out to Jessa. “I think this was in that when you opened it.”

Jessa eyed the torn book page. It was ripped from a book of poems. She remembered reading it in an airport earlier in the week. Her fingertip caught in the ends of her hair, twisting and tugging at a strand or two as she read the POEM out loud, shuffling her feet and fidgeting the entire time. “Okay, that was…”

“Sexy? Sweet? Intense?” Allie questioned, trying not to laugh. Maybe Maxwell’s idea wasn’t doomed to fail like she’d told him it would. Then again, she honestly thought Jessa hated the guy to begin with, so it did beg to question…

“That’s one way to put it. Phew.” Jessa fanned her face with the card and took a few deep breaths. “Well? Aren’t you gonna share?”

“Okay, alright.” Jessa took a deep breath and cleared her throat, starting to read from the torn book page.

Come here and take off your clothes & with them, every single worry you have ever carried. My fingertips on your back will be the very last thing you will feel before sleeping & the sound of my smile the alarm clock to your morning ears.

Come here and take off your clothes & with them, every single yesterday that has snuck atop your shoulders & declared them home. My whispers will be the soundtrack to your secret dreams and my hand, the anchor to the life which you will open your eyes to.

Come here and take off your clothes. - Tyler Knott Gregson

“Oh wow. Damn. Hey, the hearts. What’d they say again?” Allie asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. She had a feeling that she was starting to catch on to what Maxwell was up to and if she was right, it was… Definitely not something she’d have ever associated with the guy.

She’d never have assumed that beneath the cocky and almost overbearing exterior an actual romantic resided within.

Jessa grabbed the box and poured out a handful. The lone pink candy heart caught her eye and she raised a brow, reading it. “Nice tits.” she couldn’t help but giggle and look down as she joked aloud, “Bitch where, huh?”

Allie cleared her throat and Jessa held out one of the blue hearts in her hand. “Be Mine.”

“Oh wow. The poem is connected to the hearts, I think. And maybe nice tits was the person’s way of teasing?” Allie bit her lip as she looked over at Jessa. Jessa was obviously still reeling from the effects of the poem on the torn book page and Allie had the feeling that if this round of Maxwell’s little ‘game’ was this intense, by the end of the night, Jessa was going to be an actual mess.

It amused her.

Jessa turned over the paper and she dug around, eventually resorting to using a lipliner pencil she had in her messenger bag to scrawl on the front of the paper that’d been left with the candies and the card and rose.

“There’s one problem with this, stranger with candy. Well, two. One, my mom always told me not to take candy from strangers. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t follow directions? And the main problem. I can’t be yours if I don’t know who you are? But this is entertaining. It certainly got my attention. - Jessa”

Allie watched Jessa scrawling the note onto the front of the paper and stick it back into her locker and as soon as that was done, Jessa turned to Allie and shrugged. “Now we’ll see if it was a fluke or not I guess? I’m betting it is.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, actually. Why’s it so hard to believe a man might be interested in you, Jessa?” Allie’s head tilted as she asked the question and Jessa shrugged. “Guess I’m just not used to it? I mean I’m not exactly people-friendly for the most part.” Jessa used air quotes to accentuate the phrase used and she smoothed her hands down the front of her favorite worn out skinny jeans, stretching. She was suddenly excited and full of energy.

But also, she was smart enough not to set the bar too high. And as soon as the thought of who she hoped it might be sending the candies and that poem crept in, she was choking on bottled water she’d just grabbed from the vending machine in the hallway.

Almost as if the guy had a radar and knew when she was even thinking about him, there he was, tapping her on the back and eyeing her with a raised brow while trying not to chuckle.

“Twice in a night.” Jessa choked out, catching her breath at last and continuing, “What the hell did I do to the man upstairs?” with hints of a teasing smirk. When their bodies brushed, she swallowed hard and attempted to step away a little. He wasn’t having to invade her personal space bubble tonight, apparently, she was doing good enough at it on her own.

MJF chuckled quietly. He’d gotten Allie’s text with a video clip of Jessa’s reaction so he knew good and well that right now, she was flustered and it embarrassed and infuriated her because she wasn’t used to it.

“Again, Jessa.. A ‘Hi, Maxwell. You look especially hot now that you just finished beating Diamond Dallas Page’s old ass’ would be great. Or even ‘Gee, thanks for keeping me from choking to death on a Voss.” MJF commented, staring her down intently. He hoped to God that Butcher and Blade hurried back from the little trip he’d sent them on because the rest of his surprise for Jessa kind of depended on it.

Tonight was the night. He had to do something to make himself known to her. He wanted her to see the side of him that he didn’t bother showing anyone else.

He grumbled when Guevara wandered over, stopping in front of Jessa again. “Hey baby girl.”

“Fuck off, child.” Jessa grumbled, glaring at the other guy. At least Maxwell has a right to be so goddamn cocky, Jessa mused to herself as she gazed almost boredly at Sammy, this guy has not a single one and yet… He thinks he’s god’s gift…

For a split second as Sammy was fucking her with his eyes again, the thought crossed her mind that he could well be the one behind everything she’d just found in her locker and that thought had her laughing so hard she was doubled over in an instant. The laughter served a dual purpose when Sammy eyed her as if she were losing her entire mind and made a hasty retreat. MJF cleared his throat.

“Think you might share what’s so funny?” Maxwell eyed her with a brow raised.

“I just.. No, if THAT bag of dicks is sending me secret Valentines stuff.. There’s no way it’s him. He’s got all the depth of a kiddie pool.” Jessa gulped as soon as their bodies bumped together lightly.

There went that magnetic pull to MJF that she’d yet to figure out and couldn’t seem to ignore. Rather than step away this time, she found herself kind of.. Gazing up at his lips intently. She wasn’t a tiny girl, but he towered over her easily. She found herself toying with how easy he’d be able to pick her up and toss her into bed. Or hold her against a wall. She coughed again, nearly choking on her own saliva this time and Maxwell chuckled. “You seem distracted. Did this mystery guy really get you that riled up, Jessa? Does this mean that contrary to what you said earlier, you actually might just be a little lonely?”

His hand wandered down, lightly squeezing her hip and the feel of his rough hands against her skin was enough to have her thighs clenching just slightly. She’d die before admitting it, but everything about Maxwell Jacob Friedmann got to her. Whether it be sexually or in irritation.

“Or maybe this guy just really KNOWS what I really want. Unlike others who constantly just run their mouths and don’t bother trying to back their words up with actions.” Jessa countered, her hand lowering as she teasingly slid a fingertip right across his lower abdomen, smirking up at him almost teasingly when her eyes met his and she caught him swallowing hard and trying to catch his breath.

Let him be as flustered as he leaves me all the goddamn time, Jessa thought to herself as she called out to Allie, “Wanna go to that 7-11? I feel the need for a Slurpee.” and Allie agreed to it quickly. It worked out almost perfectly because this gave MJF time to get round two of his little ‘game of seduction’ set up for Jessa to find when she returned.

“Hey, since you’re goin’, bring me back something.” he called out, half teasing. Just because he knew her well enough to know it’d be met with her middle finger and a smirk.

As soon as the two women were safely out of the arena, he whipped out his cell phone and called Butcher and Blade. “Where the actual fuck are you two right now, huh? I wanna get this done. So I can get to the best part… The part where I FINALLY get all this off my chest.”

“We’re incoming. It took a while to find a place that still had the exact flowers and the other things you wanted to get her, man.”

–

Skid Row was blasting so loud that Allie almost couldn’t hear herself think. Jessa clearly couldn’t drive, she was zigging and zagging in and out of traffic as if she were a wheelman on their way to a bank robbery or something. It was a stark contrast to Maxwell’s staunch position on 5 miles over was risky enough. Allie was really starting to see what exactly might have drawn her friend to Jessa in the first place.

Jessa was loud and wild and breathing chaos. Maxwell was calm and over-thinking to a fault almost. People were constantly telling the guy that he needed to loosen up; including Jessa on several of her more playful occasions. The car came to a sharp stop in the parking lot of the 7-11 and Jessa was jumping out, waiting on the sidewalk on Allie. Allie needed to collect herself and she almost wanted to kiss the ground she stood on just because she’d made it to the little gas station in one piece. Jessa giggled. “You act like you’ve never ridden in a fast car. C’mon.”

She was scrambling through the door, grabbing an arm full of junk and a Cosmopolitan with “The Best Sex of Your Life: Ten tricks You should Be Trying in 2020” in bold red across the cover. Allie grabbed herself bottled water and let her eyes dart around warily, nudging Jessa and nodding to the junk food in her arms.

“Is all that necessary?” Allie questioned, twisting a strand of blonde around her fingertips as her eyes darted around the little gas station before settling back on Jessa.

“No, but I WANT it.” Jessa shrugged and Allie gave a laugh at the response. She’d finally found it.

The common thread between the two. When they wanted something, there was zero hesitation. This whole thing was either going to go exactly as Maxwell seemed to think it would or Jessa was going to explode. Either way, it was something Allie was definitely amused by.

“What are you doing now?”

“Getting the gigantic bag of dicks something. He’s a meathead. A protein bar, maybe? No, no..” Jessa knit her brow as she scoured the shelves, trying to find something to take back to Maxwell, even though she honestly couldn’t care less.

Or so she kept telling herself.

Allie smirked and stopped Jessa mid bend. “Oh my god. You.. You actually LIKE him… Don’t you?” she was taunting gently and Jessa bit her lip, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes as she muttered in an annoyed tone, “Let’s just say I wouldn’t throw him outta bed and leave it alone, alright? Okay, got meathead his protein bar thing and bottled water and some of those stupid Rocher chocolates. I’m all done.”

“Good god, woman. You realize all this… glorified junk.. Is going straight to your ass, right?”

“God I can only hope. I’m tired of having a non-existent ass.” Jessa quipped, hurrying to the register as soon as she’d gotten her cherry-flavored Slurpee. After paying for everything, they got back into the car. Allie crossed herself and buckled in and Jessa snickered. “My driving is not that bad.”

“Woman, my entire life story played like a movie in front of my eyes the entire time.”

Jessa gave a soft laugh and poked out her tongue, fixing her eyes on the road as she pulled out of the parking lot and merged with traffic.

Allie knew how much Maxwell was worrying about his chances at pulling his whole master plan off for the night. And since he was kind of a friend, she felt like she should give the guy a little hope.

← Okay so. Here’s the thing.

← Your girl cannot drive, first of all.

← Second, she kind of admitted something huge to me.. About you.

← Do not make me regret helping you because she’s honestly kind of growing on me…

They were pulling to a stop in the parking lot of the arena and Jessa was digging around, grabbing her issue of Cosmo, her cherry-flavored Slurpee and the share size bag of sour skittles she’d bought herself. She eyed the stuff she’d gotten MJF and sighed, grumbling. “I HATE having a weak spot for that frickin meatball.”

“Why does liking someone annoy you so much?”

“I dunno.. Never really thought about it.” Jessa shrugged as she grabbed the bag with the stuff she’d gotten him inside and got out of the car, shutting the door with her hip. She’d just stepped through the door and into the backstage area when she spotted MJF. She walked up and tapped his shoulder with the protein bar and once he’d turned around, she deposited the candy and protein bar as well as the bottled water into his hands and skipped away without a word.

MJF was left standing there watching her skip away, untwisting the cap on his bottled water as he smirked to himself.

A softer smirk.

–

Jessa stood in front of her locker, eyeing it almost as if she was torn between opening it or just walking away. Finally, with a little swearing, she pulled it open and reached inside. Her hand closed around something thin and upon pulling it out she realized it was a white rose. She passed it under her nose, giving a little smile before tucking it behind her ear and she reached into her locker again.

The note she’d scribbled out to whoever was behind this was sitting there, this time with their own response beneath.

Yeah, I’ve noticed that you and directions don’t exactly go hand in hand. It’s one of the things I love about you though. As far as your second concern, all will be revealed after the show is over. Until then, just enjoy this.

The box of conversation hearts was back again and this time the color was orange. Jessa raised a brow, opening the box and taking one out as she took a sip of her Slurpee. “U&Me and Nice Ass, huh? Okay, you have me curious now. This is.. A giant puzzle.” Jessa eyed the note and tried to think.

She’d never seen the writing on it before. It was neat and smaller. Her hand raised to her hair and she raked her fingers through it, shuffling her feet against the locker room floor. “Hmm.”

Nyla spoke up from behind her. “White roses mean new beginnings.”

Jessa turned and bit her lip, eyeing the rose. New beginnings? She’d honestly just thought whoever was going to all this trouble was just giving her flowers. “Any chance you know what a deep red one means?”

Nyla mulled it over and then asked the other woman with a smile, “Any reason why you want to know?”

“Because earlier tonight, I got this. And now, I’ve got more. And I get the feeling that everything means something, and it’s driving me insane. It’s like the answer is literally right in front of my face?” Jessa gathered what she got earlier in the night and what she’d just gotten, holding it out to Nyla, who read over everything and snickered quietly at the two hearts she had left from earlier and the ones she’d just gotten.

“Girl, somebody is trying to tell you something alright. This” Nyla waved the note that Jessa’s admirer responded on at her, “The writing looks familiar.”

“Oh?”

“But it CANNOT be him.”

Jessa was holding her breath and waiting patiently for an answer but all Nyla would do was smirk and hand her the note back. “It’s called a surprise, Jessa.”

“Damn it! No fair!” Jessa stomped her feet and pouted, but Nyla shrugged. Oh, she could’ve easily told Jessa that the writing on the note might possibly be the handwriting of one Maxwell Jacob Friedmann, but she wasn’t about to ruin the potential for amusement later in the night.

And she was lowkey impressed by the symbolism in the little puzzles. If Jessa really thought about it, the answer was right there in front of her nose, just like she thought.

Jessa turned her attention back to her locker, wondering if there would be another page torn from a book. She reached back in and smirked as she felt her fingertips brush against paper. Her eyes darted over the torn page eagerly and she crossed her legs, going fidgety at the words on the page.

I want to wet your lips

Tantalize your tongue

Elevate your heart rate

And make your veins hum

Burn like the fire inside of you

As you swallow me down

Drink me

Drink deeply my love

Intoxicate yourself with my presence

Imbibe my essence

I want to make you so very dizzy

Stumble footed

Room spinningly dizzy

Drunk on love.

- John Mark Green

She finished reading it and sat it down on the tabletop, taking several deep breaths. “Okay, wow. You sir.. Are a grade A tease and a half.”

She wandered out of the locker room intent on walking it off, Slurpee and Skittles in hand, roaming down the hallway as she tried to puzzle everything out. Her mind was a thousand miles away and this is how she wound up colliding with MJF for a second time. He steadied her and she gazed up at him, taking a long sip of her Slurpee.

“Do you ever watch where you’re going, Jessa? I could’ve knocked you over.” Maxwell eyed her in concern because he’d literally been barreling down the hallway, too damned angry at DDP to even stop for a second to consider anyone else in his path.

Jessa continued to drink her Slurpee and shrugged it off. He was being weird tonight. No weirder than usual, Jessa thought to herself as she tossed her Slurpee into the garbage nearby. She almost asked him if he recognized the writing on the note, but she decided against it.

Why give him one more reason to be an ass?

“I’m fine.” Jessa finally answered, her gaze shifting from his eyes down to his mouth. She quickly tore her eyes off his mouth and tried to find literally anything else to focus on. He chuckled quietly and asked, “Are you sure? You seem a little dazed. Not to mention, you actually bought me something back earlier.”

“Maybe I can be nice on occasion?” Jessa tried to downplay it, but she found herself pinned in by his hypnotic gaze and staring right back at him, praying like hell he didn’t read too much into it. MJF’s gaze darted down to her tee-shirt and he raised a brow.

“The Lost Boys. Is that some kind of band?”

He used that teasing tone. Jessa gaped at him a second or two and then gave a soft laugh. “Please tell me you did not just ask that.”

“What?”

“If The Lost Boys, the best freakin’ vampire epic of all time… is a band.”

“I mean, given the stuff you classify as music, Jessa.” he shrugged, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth upward as he found himself stepping closer. She had some hair hanging right into her left eye. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out and brushing it out to tuck it behind her ear. She eyed him warily and shook her head.

No, she thought to herself, there is no way it’s him leaving me the candies, roses and poems. It can’t be, it just can’t. That man doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

But something kept insisting that at very least, she was completely wrong about him.

“It’s a movie, Maxwell. A freakin amazing movie.” Jessa finally managed to answer, barely hiding a laugh. “It’s right up there with The Breakfast Club. Or I think so, at least.”

MJF grinned a little, leaning in closer. “I know that one. And it is a decent movie. Despite glaring plot holes.”

“How dare you!” Jessa pretended to be offended, rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s too low class for a man of your tastes. It’s probably over your head anyway. There are no plot holes, Maxwell, how dare you.”

“It’s true.” he shrugged mildly and Jessa threw her hand in his face, being sassy all over again.

“I refuse to continue this conversation. I’m going to hair and makeup. Maybe I can bother some of the girls. Maybe Penelope will be in there again and I can make her fuck up her makeup. That’d make tonight even better for me.”

He smiled to himself, shaking his head. He realized what she’d said at the end and curiosity took over, prompting him to call out after her, “What’s made it good so far? I mean you started it off cranky like usual. Now suddenly, you’re being a little tease and laughing..”

“Oh, nothing.” Jessa drawled, holding his gaze for a few seconds. “Just finding out that maybe there are decent people in the world?”

Before he could get anything else out of her, she was gone, vanishing into hair and makeup. He took a deep breath and eyed the time on his Geneva watch. It was time to go for it. The last part to this whole elaborate plan. Somehow knowing that she was happy at least made the potential for this to go totally awry completely worth it for him.

He’d die before admitting it, but tonight’s surprises were not something he’d do for just anyone. He’d already wrapped up far more time in her than he’d ever done for any of his past relationships. That alone said something.

Knowing what he’d done at least gave her a smile had him smiling too.

And torn between total anxiety and the smug feeling of proving there was so much more to him than met the eye for her when he finally did reveal himself.

He set off to get everything set up one last time.

Allie spotted him and waved him over, holding open the locker room door. “You have to hurry. You almost got caught last time, she literally came rushing right back in almost five minutes after you left. Just.. get this done, Maxwell.”

“Okay, alright. Calm down.”

He went straight for Tessa’s locker, opening it. After he put the pale violet colored rose into the locker along with the box of candy hearts and the book page, he picked up the little note they’d been ‘passing’ for the better part of the night, his eyes brightening when he turned it over and read her response to his previous one.

“You’re probably the only one who loves that about me. After the show, huh? I’ve gotta say… This is probably the most excited I’ve been in a long time. And I don’t even like Valentines Day. I’m getting the feeling that all of these things you’re leaving me all have a meaning. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I will. So, we’ll just see if you can keep your secrets, sir. We’ll see. - Jessa”

–

The show was getting closer and closer to an end for the night. Jessa found herself getting more and more excited with each minute that passed. It took all her limited restraint to keep from rushing back down the hall and into the locker room just to see if her mystery admirer had left anything else. She’d asked around as subtly as possible about the note and the handwriting on it, and nobody would tell her anything.

Jake Hager almost doubled over laughing and wouldn’t say anything beyond telling Jessa to keep an open mind when whoever it was revealed themselves. She was starting to think that everybody in the back was in on this somehow. She sat on top of a trunk in the hallway when she saw Allie going into the locker room after looking up the hall and down as if she were waiting on someone.

“Weird.” Jessa shrugged it off, scrolling through her Spotify library, choosing a song to listen to as she tried to work out what everything meant.

Nyla told her the red rose meant deep love and the white one meant new beginnings. The poems seemed to tie into the messages on the candy hearts she’d been left. Jessa rubbed her temples, her nose wrinkling as she went over a list of possible people, trying to rule out every single one of them.

She hopped off of the top of the trunk she’d been sitting on and started down the hallway. If there wasn’t anything in her locker this time she’d know it was probably a collective hazing thing. She was almost halfway convinced that was what this had to be, but then why hadn’t anyone else who’d just signed with the roster gotten similar?

Pacing in front of her locker must have been driving Britt crazy because Britt finally cleared her throat. “Something wrong, Jess?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing.” Jessa was quick to say it and after a deep breath and telling herself just how ridiculous she was being, she opened the door to her locker one last time.

She reached inside and pulled out a violet-colored rose and another box of candy hearts. The torn book page fluttered to the floor and so did the note they’d been leaving back and forth all night. Jessa bent quickly to retrieve them off the floor and as soon as she had, she read the note first.

I’m glad I have you excited. And that I finally have your attention. It’s been nice seeing you smile. You’re cute, okay? Especially when you smile and giggle and do things that tease me more than you realize. Gotta confess.. I’m really nervous and that’s something that just doesn’t happen. I’ll be waiting outside right after the show ends. Look for the guy in the brown jacket, if you don’t figure out who I am. Personally? I’m pretty damn confident you won’t.

Jessa laughed softly and shook her head, sitting down the paper in favor of the torn book page.

Fist full of hair

Desire

Mouth full of silence

Pleasure

Tongue curling and coaxing

Intoxicating

Hips thrusting

Abandonment

Nails digging

Rapacious

Throats instinctively swallowing

Indulgence

Eyes full of desire meet

Rapture

- The Dark Muse

“Fuck.” the k lingered sharply as she re-read the poem and felt her body starting to burn up all over. She fanned herself and swallowed hard, eyes darting around. She’d seen Allie in the locker room earlier, so naturally, she wandered over.

“Hey, when you were in here a few minutes ago, did you see anybody around my locker?”

Allie gave her a blank look and swallowed hard. She was beyond tempted to tell Jessa exactly who was behind it all, but she decided against it and shook her head no instead. Jessa smoothed her hands over her jeans and took a deep breath. “Damn it. This is driving me insane.”

She took the box of candies and opened them, biting back a quiet whimper as she read the sayings on the hearts inside. “All mine.” she poured the box out as she muttered the words written on the first heart she pulled out. Right away, her sights fell on the purple one and she picked it up, reading it. “All night. Fuck.” Jessa fanned herself and took a few shaky breaths. If she thought the poem he’d left the second time had her a soaking wet mess before, that was nothing compared to the latest poem and the hearts.

She wandered over to Nyla and tapped her shoulder. “What’s a purple rose mean?”

Nyla stopped and mulled it over, smiling. “True love.. Or love at first sight. Or that’s what my grandma always told me. Was that rose purple this time? Girl…”

“It was and he’s waiting outside, holy shit.” Jessa fanned herself, bouncing up and down for a few seconds because she was suddenly that excited.

And anxious. So very anxious. Because the thought hit her then… what if it was someone she wasn’t interested in?

Or alternately, what if it was someone she was extremely interested in?

Like say, Maxwell Jacob Friedmann?

She laughed it off. There was no way it was him. He merely liked to push her buttons and get her riled up because that was just his way. Surely there wasn’t some deep hidden meaning?

But, she found herself thinking, new beginnings, which the white rose symbolizes, only really fits him. Because him and I got off to a really, really rocky start.

As she gathered her things and prepared herself to walk out into the parking garage, she felt her hands shake ever so slightly. Her stomach was fluttering and she almost couldn’t breathe.

Maxwell found himself watching the doors leading out into the parking garage intently, his eyes on his Geneva watch when they weren’t on the doors. Had she figured out it was him and was now refusing to come out for whatever reason? He started to pace a little, glaring at one of the other guys when they mentioned him being stood up. And somehow, during the distraction of that, he missed her slipping out into the parking garage, brown eyes darting around as if she was looking for someone.

The second Jessa saw a man in a brown ankle-length jacket, she knew exactly who it was. He didn’t have to turn around for her to know that it was MJF and just the thought had her heart pounding so loudly it almost blocked all other sound. Before she realized what she was doing, she was running to catch up to the man because he’d started to walk away, obviously giving up.

She caught up to him just before he reached his Range Rover and she grabbed his wrist gently, putting a stop to his walk. Before he could really even process what was happening, she was climbing him like a literal tree, her legs cinching his hips tight and making him stagger back slightly until he got himself steady. He growled into her mouth as her tits pressed into his chest and the eleven roses in his hand fell to the pavement as both hands gripped both sides of her ass, grinding her against him. He could feel her fingertips tugging at his hair and she smirked into the kiss.

“Ya know, you had me going half the night. But then it hit me a few minutes ago. Out of all the people on the roster, you’re the only one that even slightly made sense. I told you I’d figure it out.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t that maybe you were hoping it was me?” he couldn’t resist the remark and when she lightly swatted at his chest, he chuckled. “I mean.. I figured out you had a thing for me before you even really did?”

“I did not!”

“Are we seriously going to spend tonight arguing about this, woman? Just admit that on some level, I was right.” he nipped at her lower lip hungrily, fingertips digging deeper into her ass as he turned to the Range Rover and sat her on the hood, stepping between her legs. He bent down, retrieving the flowers and he held them up to her. “These are for you.”

Jessa slipped her legs around him again, pulling him closer as she leaned in, taking the flowers and passing them under her nose before putting them aside in order to pull him into an even deeper kiss while pouting.

“What’s wrong, princess?” MJF asked as soon as he felt her starting to pout.

“And now I feel like shit because all I got you was the chocolate balls and the protein bar and water.” Jessa deepened the kiss, threading her fingers along his scalp, making him laugh. “I got you. That’s what I wanted in the first place. To finally find a way to kind of show ya how I really feel.” he shrugged and she eyed him, biting her lip. “I never realized you were a romantic softie.”

“And that’s going to stay our secret, yeah?” he muttered against her lips breathlessly before breaking the kiss to ask the question, “So.. Where do you want to go?”

“Back to the hotel.” Jessa purred against his mouth, rubbing herself against him as best as she could.

#mjf fanfiction #mjf fanfic #mjf fic #mjf oneshot #mjf imagine #// valentines fluff anyone?#// this turned out kinda cute m'kay?

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harryandmolly · 5 years

Text

tequila sunrise

A/N: part 3/3! clearly the Senorita video fucked me right up

summary: Shawn and Catalina deal with the aftermath of their night together

warnings: Language, NSFW in a big way holy cow (unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it), my perfect dream switch!Shawn

WC: 6k, truly what on earth

----------

Catalina’s favorite nights at Plucky’s are the quiet ones. They don’t come around often, but when they do, they’re something special.

Quiet is relative, of course. Plucky’s is usually a madhouse, so when there isn’t a constant line at the bar, and when you can sort of tell the music they’re playing over the din, that’s quiet enough to count in Catalina’s book.

Tonight, though, it’s really, really quiet. They don’t even have the speakers on full blast -- they don’t need to. The thunderstorm has kept most of the newcomers away, and some of the regulars.

Not all of them.

Shawn and company sit sentry at the tables by the door, as always. They’re the first to know if trouble’s on its way in or out. That’s the way Bonnie likes it. Catalina knows she can’t complain, even if she’d rather not see his stupid pretty face again.

He’s stopped staring at her. It took him a lot of effort and another few weeks of recovery time after their last romp, but he’s managing it. It’s not easy, especially on such a quiet night. He can hear her laughing with the girls at the bar, chanting “chug! Chug!” and pouring shots into their mouths.

She doesn’t look like she’s missed him one bit. All he’s done for 26 days is miss her. Yes, he misses her so much he’s counting the days.

He’s hunched over a beer, nursing it slowly. He’ll switch to bourbon soon if he can wrangle one of his buddies into going to grab it for him. He’s too chicken shit to see what she’d do if he walked anywhere near her bar.

He’d rather sit in the corner and imagine it -- he pictures her launching a shot glass at his head or shooting him with the fountain sprayer. Sometimes, when he’s really, truly fucked, he imagines that she’d drag him into a stellar kiss again. He misses kissing her most of all.

A chorus of raucous laughter from the table behind them knocks him from his self-pitying reverie. Connor next to him rolls his eyes. The jokers at the next table arrived about half an hour after they did and they’ve been hitting the drinks hard ever since. It’s not a cardinal offense at Plucky’s, of all places, but it’s a quiet night and these douchelords are being obnoxious.

“... no, not the redhead. Idiot. The dark-haired one with the rack.”

Shawn perks up again and frowns, listening. Connor and the rest of his guys heard it, too. They’ve fallen quiet, listening in.

“... Couple weeks ago. Tightest cunt I’ve ever had. Was fucking begging for me.”

Shawn tenses. He glances over at the man speaking and catches the eye of the moron that grabbed at Catalina’s dress that night. Shawn gives him a withering glance, one that clearly reads ‘knock it off.’ But the problem is, the loser has an audience. He brought his buddies along and they all want to hear about his (totally fictional) conquest of Catalina.

Shawn looks around. His friends are already looking poised to square up. Shawn backs them off, quietly insisting they ignore it. Bonnie begs them to ignore rowdy assholes unless they’re being violent or especially disruptive. These guys may be gross, but they’re not causing problems yet.

But he can’t just turn his ears off. In fact, they grow pinker and pinker as the guy rambles on, getting into details so dirty and vivid Shawn half believes it was real. He chances a glance up at Catalina, watches her flash a proud grin at a girl in a 21st birthday crown as she squeals through a shot of Fireball.

How can he even think to talk about her like that? It’s unfathomable. Talking about anyone in the manner this guy is going on in is disgusting. Shawn shifts uncomfortably, shaking his head.

“And then I threw her up against the bar and--”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Shawn barks, springing out of his seat. His nostrils flare. His jaw closes in a tight line. His friends look him over, assessing his mood, and stand. This isn’t going to just end quietly.

The loser stands too, followed by his other loser friends. He’s smirking like a jerk. Shawn wants to wipe his face across Catalina’s bar.

“Look, it’s pretty boy,” the idiot mocks, making his buddies laugh, “Are you her little bitch boy? She got you on a leash?”

Shawn rolls his eyes. “I’m doing you a favor, asshole. If she hears you talking about her like that, she’s gonna have you on a fucking leash.”

Shawn’s friends chuckle in agreement and look over at Catalina, who has taken note of the confrontation, keeping an eye on them as she continues pouring drinks to distract her customers. She knows very well if the morons think they have more of an audience, they’ll be harder to shut up.

Shawn turns, ready to sit back down. His shoulders are tense. They have been for weeks, yet again. His body is like a coil, scrunched tighter every day.

It was only a matter of time before the snap.

“Anyway, it was good pussy. For a nasty fuckin’ bartender.”

Snap.

Shawn’s chair clatters when he stands so fast he knocks it over. Before his friends can temper him, he launches himself at the mouthy guy, decking him hard across the jaw. The only reason it didn’t knock him out clean was because one of his friends got an arm around Shawn’s to slow his swing. The damage is done, though -- blood pours from the guy’s mouth. His friends descend, several of them locking themselves around Shawn’s arms so the mouthy guy can get some hits in before Shawn’s friends can drag him off. He gets in a couple good punches, one that splits Shawn’s eyebrow, the rest investing in damage that will result in another black eye to match the one that finally fully faded a week ago.

Connor and Geoff wrestle the guy out the door while a couple other regulars come to aid the cause of kicking out the rest of the drunk losers.

“Fuckin’ idiot couldn’t even hit me unless his friends held my arms down!” Shawn growls after them as they skulk off.

He slumps into a chair, wincing as blood starts trickling into his eye from the slice in his brow. He reaches up to poke at it, but a set of soft fingers wrap around his, pushing them away.

“Don’t touch it,” Catalina murmurs from above him, her voice chilly, her eyes on the first aid bag she’s swinging onto the table. She nods at Brian to move out of her way.

She perches on the seat gingerly, holding some clean napkins up to the wound, dabbing carefully. He hisses, cringing away. She cups his other cheek to hold him steady. His protest stops immediately. The corner of her mouth lifts.

“The fuck is wrong with you? I never see you swing first.”

Shawn swallows and keeps his eyes down as she continues dabbing, swapping out the napkins for gauze with alcohol. Shawn winces again.

“Fuckin’ gross idiots, that’s all,” Shawn mutters.

Catalina nods thoughtfully. “Think one of them was the guy that grabbed at me a few weeks ago, yeah?”

He lifts his eyes to meet hers briefly. “Yeah.”

She smiles a little wider, patting antibiotic cream into the clean wound that she’s decided doesn’t need stitches.

“Don’t have to defend my honor, you know. It’s long gone.”

“Oh, I know,” Shawn murmurs, a chuckle in his voice, “Just doing my feminist duty to not let guys say shit like that about women.”

He looks up at her again. She forgot how big and brown and sweet his eyes can be. This time he keeps his eyes on her as she carefully applies the butterfly bandage, pressing as gently as she can with her fingers.

“Well, aren’t you just Prince Charming,” she murmurs, looking from his lips back up to those puppy brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His eyes fall to his lap.

Catalina takes a deep breath and nods at Brian, who nudges their other friends into making themselves scarce. Shawn and Catalina are alone at the table with the first aid kit.

“For what?” she asks, keeping her voice steady.

“For… making you cry last time.”

Not the answer she was expecting.

She squints at him. “You’re not sorry for leaving before I woke up the first night?”

Shawn looks startled. “I… thought you’d want me to.”

“Why?”

“Because… it was a one night thing,” he stammers, starting to get flustered. His chest heaves under his white tank and patterned suspenders.

She lifts an eyebrow. “Clearly it wasn’t or it wouldn’t have happened again.”

“Yeah… but… I--I mean…”

Catalina looks unimpressed. She stands and turns to walk back to the bar. Words bubble up in Shawn’s throat against his will.

“I didn’t want to stick around long enough for you to kick me out when we woke up,” he blurts, immediately looking mortified.

Catalina turns back. Her disinterest has shifted to concerned confusion.

“Why would I do that?”

Shawn closes his eyes, feeling his ruddy cheeks go pinker. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to give you the chance. I’ve been kicked out before. It’s not fucking fun.”

Catalina’s lips part. Her eyes unfocus. She’s having a mini epiphany.

From the beginning, she used Shawn like a toy. Their cat and mouse game was only supposed to be fun. She just didn’t want to make it easy for him. The excitement was in the challenge for them both, or so she thought. While she was quietly wondering if his interest would fade after they fucked the first time, he was worrying about the same thing.

He left first to save himself. He left first to see if she’d chase him.

“You wanted me to make the move,” she breathes, sinking back into the seat beside him.

Shawn doesn’t look up. The bar is closing, the last patrons have shuffled out. Bonnie is wiping down counters. Shawn’s friends give him a wave and watch curiously from outside as they climb onto their bikes and drive away.

Shawn lifts his eyes experimentally. She’s still looking off into the distance, putting pieces together in her pretty head. Finally, she looks back at him.

“When was the last time you felt really wanted?”

Shawn goes cold to his bones. He feels translucent -- he swears she can see every scrambled thought in his harried brain, can see the blood pumping double time in his veins. No hiding from her now.

“Uhm… I....” He trails off. He’s not sure that question needed a real answer, anyway.

Her fingers pluck some curls off his forehead, away from his cut. He looks up at her, into warmth and tenderness he’s seen snippets of in the months they’ve known each other. He’s never seen her look like this. She’s never looked so beautiful.

“Lina, I--”

She leans in and kisses him softly. It feels like a kiss from their first night together, like when she sat in his lap and rocked their hips and came, holding his arm around her stomach. He kisses back, tilting his head as she guides him, resting a hand on the outside of her thigh on her leather pants. She murmurs softly into his mouth. The vibration has him squeezing her leg and nibbling sweetly at her lower lip.

Catalina purrs, lifting herself into his lap without disconnecting their needy mouths. As Bonnie keeps her eyes mostly down, mopping up behind the counter, Shawn and Catalina explore in a way they haven’t yet. When Shawn releases a particularly sweet and overwhelmed groan at Catalina’s gentle hair tugging, Bonnie stifles a chuckle and decides the rest of the job can be done before opening tomorrow. She opts to leave out the back, locking up behind her.

Shawn sucks at Catalina’s tongue, sneaking his fingers up under her tank top like he’s never touched her before. It feels naughty. It feels good. It feels even better than before because he knows she wants him.

She wants him.

It feels real, like it’s not just for tonight, or not even just for sex. She might actually want--

“Shawn,” she coos, pulling apart enough from his lips to speak, “Want you to take me back to your place.”

Her fingers slip beneath his suspenders, teasing the skin under the thin shirt beneath. She plucks, letting the elastic snap back. His breathing comes up short.

“Want to show you just how much I want you, baby.”

Shawn huffs a soft breath, nodding eagerly. She plants another kiss on him and stands, tangling their fingers. They stay tangled while Catalina pushes in chairs, turns off lights and fishes her keys from her bag, laughing as Shawn holds his phone flashlight out for her. They lock up.

His bike is waiting for them. He climbs on first, handing her a helmet with a wink. She settles in behind him, this time much more comfortable snuggling up to his broad back in his soft leather jacket. The bike growls to life, stoking the fire in her lower abdomen. Her thighs clench around the machine as Shawn takes off down the street.

She knows why he ended up here all the time with his friends. He lives five minutes away. She raises her eyebrows at the quaint townhouse, not expecting his home to look quite so… domestic. He parks the bike right outside between a Honda and a Volvo and holds his hand out to her to help her off, sliding off his own helmet.

When she’s on her feet, she steps into his body that’s bleeding heat. She cups his cheek and runs her thumb gently along his bruising skin.

“We should get ice on this,” she murmurs. He turns his face, eyes fluttering as he plants a kiss on the inside of her palm.

“Later. Please, baby. It’s been so long. Need you.”

His thoughts are short and simple. She draws both hands up to secure around his neck, easing him down for another head swimmingly full, tender kiss. While her tongue swipes along his lower lip, she slides her hands down, taking hold of the suspenders in both hands, dragging him toward the door.

He stumbles along with her, sifting through his keys, grunting into her mouth as he struggles to find the one for his front door. She peels away from him with a giggle, allowing him to focus. He seizes the right key and thrusts the door open, letting her in first. He trails behind, turning on lights.

The house is small and simple, masculine and a little cold. She sets her purse and jacket down on the counter of his very clean kitchen. She plants her hands on the cool marble countertop and closes her eyes, feeling him edge up behind her with his hands on her hips.

Shawn goes silent. Every thought in his brain is muted, replaced with feeling her. He noses at her hair and slips his fingers up her sides curiously, allowing himself little tastes of her, though he craves more.

“Baby,” Catalina murmurs, her voice warm and steady and feeling like a shot of adrenaline through his body, “Need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” he pants immediately, almost before she finishes speaking. She smiles, chewing on her lower lip.

She turns in his arms, held between him and the counter. She takes hold of his suspenders again, watching the flush creep up his pretty neck.

“Need you to be good for me tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Shawn’s knees tremble. He leans harder into the counter and releases a choked breath. He nods, keeps nodding until she takes his head in her hands and gives him another perfect kiss.

Her hungry hands glide over her own body, pulling her tank up her pale stomach, separating their mouths only long enough to shed it behind her. Shawn starts to try to help with the buttons on her leather trousers but she plucks his fingers off with a smile against his mouth.

“Not gonna let me touch you, baby?” he whispers, his voice a little closer to a whine than he’d like. She hears it, reveling in it while she wriggles out of her pants herself, kicking them off after her boots and socks.

She replaces Shawn’s hands on her hips, wrapping her arms around him as she leads him toward the stairs.

“Haven’t touched me in weeks,” she points out between kisses, “And you seemed to be doing just fine.”

He groans into her mouth at her teasing. He knows what she wants. He’s not used to having to give it, but he’ll do it. He’ll give it for her.

“I wasn’t,” he pants, leaning into the vulnerability.

His lips trail off down her jaw, letting her tug him upstairs to his bedroom, “I was fucking-- god, Lina, I’m miserable without you. I need you.”

Catalina wants to bathe in this feeling. She knows how good their first two times were. She relives them more often than she probably should. But this is honest and open and she can feel the way he means his words by the way his heart sprints in his firm chest. This time is going to be even better.

“You know you’re the only one that calls me that?” she whispers when they reach his spartan bedroom. She pushes the suspenders off his shoulders until they fall limp at his sides. She guides him to sit at the end of the bed, standing between his spread knees. His fingers twitch at his sides, wanting to touch.

“What, Lina?” he pants.

“Yeah. Everyone else calls me Cat.”

Shawn looks bewildered, like maybe he never noticed. “I can call you Cat if you want.”

“No,” she says, tilting his head back to rest in her hands, watching his eyes flutter, “I like that it’s just for us.”

Shawn squirms, his wet pink lips parting with the effort of his breath. He wants to touch her. He wants it so bad. The only thing he wants more is for her to give him whatever she wants. He fists his hands into the duvet on either side of him as she lowers herself into his lap.

“Did you think about me the last few weeks?” she hisses, rocking herself into place so she grinds against his hardening cock in his black jeans. He gives it back, using his hands against the mattress to match the rhythm of her perfect hips.

“Of course I did,” he chokes, “Always think about you, Leens.”

“When you’re touching yourself? When you’re alone and it’s dark and quiet and you need a release?”

Shawn’s eyes shut. “Baby, it was always you. Always.”

Catalina is flooded with it. She should get that word tattooed on her somewhere. Maybe somewhere sexy so only he knows it’s there. She gently eases him onto his back, lifting off his hips to pluck at the button of his pants. She notices the suspenders still lying around his hips. Her eyes flash.

“Shawn,” she coos, sliding up his body so their faces are level, “Baby, have you ever been tied up before?”

His glassy eyes clear up in an instant. He squirms again, swallowing hard.

“Fuck, not in… a long time.”

Catalina smirks. “Bet you’re usually the one doing the tying up.”

Shawn chuckles. It’s cocky and sexy and it makes Catalina wetter in her panties.

“Usually,” he replies.

Catalina ducks her head to whisper in his ear, “If you’re really good for me this time, we can try that next time.”

Shawn groans again, but it cuts into a squeak when Catalina drags at his earlobe with her sharp teeth.

She sits back and eyes him, her gaze raking over his long, lean body, still fully clothed, his dick straining beautifully in his jeans. She cups him, giving him a teasing squeeze that makes him flinch and huff a breath.

“Take your clothes off for me,” she commands, firm but affectionate, “Nice and slow.”

Shawn presses himself up on his hands and stands in front of her, reaching for the collar of his tank at the back of his neck. He lifts it slowly, revealing inch after inch of perfect, soft skin, warm brown chest hair and a trail leading into his pants. He tosses the shirt away, licking his lips.

“Mmm, you know exactly how hot you are, don’t you?” Catalina sighs. Shawn lifts an eyebrow.

“I don’t know about that,” he begins, tugging at the button of his jeans, dropping his zipper, “But I know exactly how hot you are for me.”

Catalina laughs, delighted. She leans back on her forearms, propping her feet up on the bed. She spreads her thighs just enough for him to notice she’s doing it, and it’s not just to get more comfortable as she watches him.

Shawn’s eyes fix on the wet spot on her panties. His exhale whistles through his nose. He tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and pushes, slowly again per her request, watching her eyes get heavy lidded and her fingers grip the sheets like his were only moments before.

He drops his jeans around his ankles, kicking them off.

“These too?” he pants, pointing at his navy Calvins. She nods, breathing hard, which makes his dick twitch.

“Those too.”

Again, Shawn pulls at them slowly, his eyes locked on her when his leaking cock springs free to slap up against his lower abdomen. She licks her lips obscenely. A moan gets throttled in his tight throat.

Catalina sits up and beckons to him, spreading her legs so he can stand between her knees. She gathers him in by his hips, eyes roaming his body like she’s never seen it before. She likes what she sees. He can tell by the way she’s going pink all over. It makes him preen, flexing just a little under her touch.

“You’re perfect, every inch of you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against his skin as her lips brush his chest. Her sneaky fingers curve around his hips and sink into the cheeks of his ass, urging him even closer.

Shawn gasps, pushing his hands into his hair, “God, fuck, Lina. Fuck.”

She’s not shy about leaving marks. She bites and licks and sucks like he’s hers to do with what she wants. And, goddamnit, he is. He so is. It’s all he can do to keep his hands to himself. Pulling at his curls helps a little. But when he watches her perfect little tongue swirl around his nipple and suck it between her lips, his hands drop to her hair, hugging her close as he whines.

She releases his reddening, swollen skin from her rosy lips and smirks up at him, squeezing the palms still planted on his ass.

“Ok, baby, time for me to play.”

She slaps her flat palm against his ass lightly to watch his stomach tighten. He grunts, but the corner of his mouth lifts. “Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere,” she purrs dangerously, “But let’s start with right here.”

She enjoys watching the shiver roll down his spine as she pats the bed. He gracefully lowers himself, head on the pillows, blinking down at her. Catalina frees the suspenders from his jeans and crawls up the bed, sitting over his chest as she lifts his willing arms over his head and binds them together, then to the headboard.

She sits back, looking over her work. His bulky arms are pinned up around his ears. His chest is heaving more quickly now as the reality of it hits him. His eyes are glazed. His cheeks are pink and patchy. He looks fucking delicious.

“Gonna sit on my face, honey? Let me taste that perfect pussy again?” he pants.

She hums. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

“You mean maybe if you’re lucky.”

Her eyes skip from his hard nipples to the clear challenge on his face. She gasps a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

“I know you remember,” he nearly growls, his voice low and scraping. She can feel it in her clit even though he’s not touching it.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about the way I pressed you up against your bar and made you come on my face. About how I hitched your leg up to keep you spread for me while you dripped on my tongue.”

He’s looking down at her through his lashes, his swollen lips wet and parted. It’s a dare. He’s playing with her just like she’s playing with him. For a second, Catalina feels like the one with the restraints around her wrists. And then she remembers she’s not.

He is.

“You’re a fucking tease, Mendes,” she chuckles, climbing off his stomach to sit beside him.

“Not teasing if I’m lying here totally willing,” he counters, “C’mon, honey. It would be so easy. Just take off those pretty panties and come sit on my face.”

Catalina’s jaw clenches. She looks up at his face. His grin falters.

“Turn over.”

Shawn’s face goes blank. He blinks at her. “What?”

Catalina remains firm, her face serene. “Turn over onto your stomach.”

Shawn opens his mouth as if to ask a question, but he thinks better of it. He fights to roll over with his hands bound, but the suspenders are long enough to allow him to twist until he’s flipped ass up.

“Tell me, baby,” she rasps, straddling his thighs, running her nose along the little curls at the back of his neck, “What would you do for me if I did sit on your face?”

Shawn’s massive shoulder blades come together as he inhales sharply. Catalina busies herself, waiting for his answer, by marking up his back the same way she did his chest. She starts on his shoulders, sweet wet lips tending to him after her teeth nip sharply.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, imagining what he’s going to look like when she’s done with him. Probably like he got mauled. How appropriate.

“I’d… fuck, I’d start nice and slow, honey. Miss you on my face so much. I’d take you in, tasting your sweet lips, feeling how warm and wet you are for me.”

Catalina groans encouragingly, sinking her teeth into an already inflamed mark at the top of his spine that makes him wince and grind into the bed.

“I’d let you rock against my face as I kiss you, letting you know I know how fucking lucky I am to have you, baby. Suck on your soft lips, massaging them with my tongue.”

“God, Shawn,” Catalina whines, sliding a flat palm down her stomach as she breathes wet and heavy against his left shoulder blade where a series of little bite marks are starting to purple. She presses her needy fingers against her pussy, soaked through her satin panties. The relief is good, but not enough.

“I know you like it when I flick your clit hard and fast to get you so fucking wet for me. But I’d do that nice and slow too, soft strokes from your entrance to your perfect little button of nerves. Hot and wet and slow until you’re begging for me, pulling my hair to get me to give you what you need.”

Catalina is panting hard, stroking her clit through her panties, hips rolling as she sucks hard at the center of his spine.

“I’d stiffen my tongue, moaning when I feel you dripping on my lips and cheeks. God, you’re so wet. You taste so good, so sweet. I’d want more. I’d slip my hot tongue between your lips and press into your entrance, thrusting in and out of you to feel you go even tighter for me. Can you feel it, baby? Can you feel me fucking you with my tongue?”

He’s onto her. Catalina doesn’t care. She nods eagerly for him to continue, whimpering into his abused skin, her hand moving faster against her wetness.

“You’re so wet we can both hear it. My hot breath is on your clit, my cheeks are wet from your thighs. You’re so close. Your clit is throbbing. You need me there again, don’t you, baby? Need me to play with your pretty clit to get you to come.”

Catalina moans again, the sound choked and soft. She shifts down, rolling her hips hard to meet the heel of her hand. She brushes the tip of her nose over the swell of his ass. With a deep breath, she bites down on his left cheek, grinning at his sharp gasp.

“Fuck! Fuck, Lina!” he cries, rolling his hips, fucking down against the mattress. She doesn’t let up, just follows her teeth with hungry lips and the occasional soothing of her tongue.

“More, Shawn,” she grunts before returning to her task. He shudders, nodding, eyes shut with his cheek on his pillow.

“Wanna hear you come for me. Wanna feel it all over me when you let go. I flatten my tongue against you, I know you need something to grind against to come hard. C’mon, baby. Give it to me. Fucking come on my face.”

Catalina’s shoulders pull, her back arching as she feels the hook. It drags her under, has her moaning and chanting his name into the firm flesh of his ass. Her hips buck wildly for several seconds. Shawn lives for each and every one, praising her as she drives through it, soothing her when she comes down.

When she does come down, lifting her head from his backside to see him smiling down at her, looking totally content even though she knows he’s beyond hard still, she hums, pressing a chaste kiss over the violet mark she left on his perfect ass.

“That’s gonna be a good one,” she giggles, tracing it with her fingertip. He shudders again, his eyelids fluttering.

Catalina peels herself away. She stands on shaky knees, shedding her soaked panties and her lace bra, dropping them on his floor while he watches.

“There’s no one on earth as beautiful as you,” he whispers, gazing at her almost hopelessly. She perches beside him, rubbing his back.

“I think you could give me a run for my money,” she replies, the corner of her mouth lifting. Shawn smiles, closing his eyes again.

“Can you turn back over for me, sweetheart?”

Shawn grunts as he flips himself back over. He has pillow marks on his cheek and his cock is harder, pinker, prettier than she’s ever seen one. She climbs over his thighs again, reaching between her legs to gather some wetness on her fingers. Shawn watches with bated breath until her fingers lift to his lips in offering. He accepts them with a grateful moan, sucking them into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue. Catalina smiles, using her other hand to stroke his cock, deciding he’s certainly earned some relief.

He’s the picture of sinful indulgence, lifting his hips to meet her strokes while he sucks needily on her fingers like they’re giving him life. He doesn’t want to let them go when she starts to pull them away. He nips at them teasingly, smirking at the reproachful look she gives him.

Catalina scoots her knees up, lifting to position the head of his throbbing cock at her entrance. Shawn watches, his chest quaking with his ragged breaths, waiting for it, for the perfect feeling he knows he could never get anywhere else. He’d wait forever for her.

“Please,” he urges, his head lolling back, “Lina.”

Catalina inhales, smiles shakily, and sinks down, taking him to the hilt.

Shawn hasn’t gotten so close to blowing his load too early since he was a fucking teenager. How is it better every time with her? How does she keep feeling better? He thought it was perfect the first time. Now, as he looks up at her, knowing she wants him, knowing she likes him, knowing he’s falling in love with her, he knows what perfect is.

She eases in, rolling her hips smoothly with a flick upward that has him shifting in and out of her as she rests in his lap.

“That’s… oh god, shit, Lina…”

She nods in agreement, breathless, thoughtless, with no goal other than to make him feel good. By the look on his face, she’s succeeding.

She shifts her weight into her hands on either side of his head, rocking down harder and a little faster. The noise is obscene. With every stroke up, she gasps a breath, reveling in the warm burn of the stretch. No one’s ever been so perfectly deep in her. No one’s ever felt so good. She knows it’s not just the sex -- it hasn’t been from the beginning. It’s him.

Shawn slides his feet up the bed to give him purchase to meet her hips. Their wet skin slaps and it’s the only thing louder than their synchronized breath. They’re staring at each other, memorizing, desperate to hold onto the feeling of such tantalizing closeness.

Catalina shifts, the angle of her hips meeting his allowing him to stroke her g-spot with every perfect roll. She snaps her eyes shut and gasps, slowing their rhythm, wringing out this feeling for all it’s worth.

“You getting lost down there?”

His voice is sharp and bright, poking through Catalina’s hazy cloud. She opens her eyes to see him grinning at her, a line of perfect white teeth sparkling, his eyes teasingly taunting.

“Wh--”

Before she can release any coherent thought, Shawn wriggles his hand, slipping from the bind of the suspender and freeing the other. Catalina’s mouth drops open. She wrinkles her brow and opens her mouth to protest, but Shawn wraps his arms around her and rolls them so she’s on her back, still gaping.

“You’re cute when you’re surprised,” Shawn hums, shifting onto his knees to pulse his cock even deeper.

“Shawn!” she croaks, spreading her legs wider to accommodate him as he takes over.

He’s not as controlled or subtle as Catalina was. He pounds in and out hard, restless, reckless as he chases after her orgasm. He’s single-minded, lifting her legs around his hips, using his grip on her for even more leverage. He’s holding her off the bed, watching her fall apart.

“Can’t hold on,” she squeaks, shaking her pretty head.

Shawn nods eagerly. “I know, princess. Time to let go. Fucking come, baby. Show me.”

Catalina’s eyes roll back. Her pussy pulses, fluttering around him, a warning before she falls. The squeeze of her around him, the way she screams as she bites down on his jaw, he swears it’s the most satisfied he’s ever felt. He fucks her through it, managing to hold himself off until she’s limp in his arms, blinking up at him lazily.

“Do something for me?” she whispers, but it’s a plea, not the start of a command.

Shawn nods, panting in her face.

“Kiss me when you come.”

Shawn’s face scrunches. His whole body aches with pleasure that makes his blood simmer. He reaches for her hand, linking their fingers. He looks at them, watches them intertwine when his rhythm fails. He looks back at her and sees her watching him. It’s all he needs to give in.

He drops his lips to hers, lets her drink in his rasping moans as he comes hard, his entire body spasming. She fists her free hand into his hair, steadying him against her, reminding him she’s close, as if he could forget. She takes him so well, rocking her hips to ease him from his peak, pressing kisses all over his face to let him breathe. He doesn’t want to breathe, he just wants her. He searches out her lips again, collapsing against her willing body, sighing into her mouth.

When at last he can stand the idea of releasing her lips, he shifts back, disconnecting their protesting bodies, cupping her face in his hand, the other still laced with hers.

They don’t speak again before they fall asleep. When he wakes up, she’s still there, twisting one of his curls around her finger, taking stock of the marks she left on him the night before. Neither of them even thinks about getting out of bed for hours.

---------

WOO that was a marathon and a sprint all in one. thanks for hanging on this crazy weekend, guys ✌🏻 if you feel so inclined, the link to buy me a Ko-fi is on my main page!

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @grittyisaho @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn peter raul mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes au #bad boy!shawn #switch!shawn #dom!shawn #sub!shawn #bad boy au #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fluff

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amwritingmeta · 4 years

Note

If Everybody Hates Hitler was the very first episode of Supernatural someone watched, wouldn’t they not only read Dean as queer, but feel like they’re supposed to read Dean as queer? I mean, if you were just introduced to him as a character, or if his character was still being established, wouldn’t it feel nothing but deliberate? Like, if I were watching a movie or something and there was a scene like that within the first 20 or so minutes, I’d just be like “ah, okay. he’s queer.”

Everybody Hates Hitler anon again, I’m trying to explain exactly what I mean. When we’re introduced to a character for the first time, everything in that establishing-period feels very deliberate. Like the writer is telling you “Okay, this is the character, and this is who they are.” But after a while that hyper-awareness fades, because you feel like you know who the character is now. If that scene had happened when Dean’s character was still being established, no one would question it.

Hey, love!

This is interesting and quite the conundrum, right? It feels like the question that’s been grappled with for many years on this website, where a large portion of fandom reads Dean as queer, or rather as bi--

(and has so been doing basically from the start for various reasons) (such as Kripke wanting to play around with homoerotic subtext in the earliest seasons) (which as far as I know is something he’s stated) (step in and correct me if this is wrong because I do not have the source for this) (I just remember reading an interview years ago and yeah I’m unreliable here so don’t take my word for it)

--while another portion contests that he’s bisexual and the vast majority of the GA doesn’t see it or, at least, it’s not something that’s discussed ever in mainstream media, because the bi has always been kept in subtext, yeah?

But.

The rub, if you will: all the instances we have of Dean behaving as though he is absolutely into men as well as women, all these instances that support the queer subtext reading, are part of the show as is.

Including the Aaron moment in Everybody Hates Hitler.

What I’m getting at is that, unless there is enough contextualisation in any narrative that a character is inherently supposed to be read a certain way, there will always be the possibility to contest a viewer’s interpretation of how said character should be or could be read.

I understand the argument you’re aiming for, though. Or at least I think I do: if we’d gotten that sort of scene in season one, then reading Dean as bi would have been more prominent and not as easily dismissed.

Which is totally true, to my mind, but my point is that, unless those moment had kept on coming and been just as pronounced and there had been an equal amount of Dean flirting with women and getting flustered around men as the show unfolded in those first few seasons, then that first impression wouldn’t necessarily have lasted.

Know what I mean?

It would’ve ended up as easily dismissible as it was (for some) when it occurred in S8, because the moment with Aaron is like gold dust of actual contextualisation, and it’s the very first instance of Dean getting flustered when a man outright flirts with him, and because we didn’t get this side to him unapologetically built on over the rest of the season, no matter the absolutely mouth-watering subtext of S8 between Dean and Cas, the contextualising moment with Aaron didn’t make the world go Oh Hell Yes Dean Winchester Is Also Into Men.

I guess all this is leading into me both agreeing with you, and also adding to your thought, yeah? Because yes, if we’d gotten Dean established in a more textual way as a bisexual character, then it wouldn’t have been dismissible at all, but hinting is still hinting, and unless the textual hinting is consistent, it’s easily watered down and ignored by anyone not willing to see him as bi.

The textual hinting we’ve gotten over the course of the show hasn’t been consistent enough to be thought of as a pointer to the canonical reading of him as a character. So one exchange in one episode wouldn’t have been enough in the long run anyway, and the discussion would’ve been the same regardless.

It’s interesting to think what the show would’ve looked like if Dean had been established as bi from the very beginning, because, to my mind, it wouldn’t have been a different show in any way aside from the fact that the will-they-won’t-they between Dean and Cas would’ve been much more hard drawn around what it’s always been about: lack of self-worth and miscommunication.

I don’t think they would’ve gotten the show made, however, if the pitch had been that it’s about two brothers where one is bi. I think that pitch would’ve been confusing and the demographic would’ve seemed too small. It would’ve been seen as more niche than it already is and been dismissed as something that wouldn’t appeal to enough viewers. Of course, I don’t know so, but I really do think so. Which obviously sucks ass, but fifteen years ago was a different landscape to what we’re watchin on screen today. *thankfully*

Kripke wanted to appeal to teenage boys back in 2005. He wanted to make a show that would draw in a young male audience. I would be a little surprised to learn that this show of ours would’ve been green lit back then with this demographic in mind if it had boasted a bisexual lead. Again, things have thankfully changed, and were on the cusp of change in 2005, but the queer shows that were big hits in the 00s were all exactly that: queer shows exploring lgbtqia+ narratives. Supernatural wouldn’t have really fit the bill, you know? And I think especially because it isn’t, and never was, about Dean’s sexuality.

I find the subtext of it all enticing and intriguing and, to me, Dean is bi and it’s not a huge deal and shouldn’t be made into a huge deal because the huge deal, really, is for him to gain the sense of self-worth needed for him to believe he deserves love and happiness. That’s the real crux to his character progression. The fact that love and happiness has come into his life in the shape of a man is just incredibly fitting and adds all those beautiful layers to the reading of him and so I’m okay with it not being entirely contextualised yet.

Of course, I hope it will be. I hope it will be put into a context that is not dismissible at all, but that brings all the subtext into stark relay and validates it, because it will validate all the work that’s gone into it and bring the point of it all home.

I just think Dean needs to get them ducks in a row first. :)

#answered asks #everybody hates hitler #dean winchester #bi!dean

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hillnerd · 5 years

Note

Au headcanon of Ron Weasley and Hermes Granger

Ended up being a bit over 7k words, this one! And hey, just in time for pride month! :) Romione but m/m! :)

This has Hermes struggling to come to terms with his sexuality. Again, as with the f/f Romione story, I was inspired a lot by my experiences when I was younger. Also has a guest appearance by Ace!Charlie Weasley :) This is set in the 90s, so things aren’t quite as smooth as they would be if this story was set in the present day. People weren’t as sensitive to the needs of the LGBTQIA+ community then, weren’t as equipped with the vocab or knowing what to say etc. It was before my time, but I want to be as true to that as I can.

Trigger warnings: character being outted, homophobia, internalized homophobia

rated PG-13 for cursing and homophobia

RON AND HERMES

BEFORE HOGWARTS

Hermes Granger had never been a popular child growing up. He wasn’t sure if it was because his nose was always in a book, or if his nose was in a book because they were much more friendly company than the children around him. He was always seen as odd, and he supposed they were right. He wasn’t quite like the other boys his age. He preferred reading to sports, preferred the teachers to the other children, and he inexplicably had strange things happen around him.

Owls and cats seemed to listen to him. He could make any electronic short circuit when he got frustrated. He’d wish for things to happen– impossible poetic vengeful things, as we all are wont to do when someone is being particularly cruel or unjust– and a lot of the time they would happen.

Philip Pickering, the biggest bully in their class, had taken Hermes’s diorama and poured paint all up inside it, ruining all the hard work he’d put in. Hermes wished someone would pour paint in something Philip liked, and then a horrible accident happened in art class- a whole wall of paint cans tipped over and covered Philip, and only Philip, head to toe in paint. His Air Jordans were ruined, along with everything else he was wearing, and even all the homework in his rucksack. Hermes was delighted, but also a bit afraid of how his darker wishes could come true. From that moment on he did his best to keep such wishes from coming true, and did an alright job of it.

When he found out he was a wizard it all sort of fell into place. He was odd because he was magical, but he’d find his place soon enough once surrounded by other wizards and witches at Hogwarts!

–

FIRST YEAR

It took time to find his place. At first he found his bookish ways and penchant for telling people what to do were just as disliked there as they’d been at his Muggle school. He’d been quite hopeful of making a friendship with two boys in particular- Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Harry was an important person in so many books, and that made him a fascinating person to meet and analyze. And then there was Ron- he wasn’t sure why he liked to look at him so much, but there was something different about him that make Hermes want to be his friend.

A few months of spats, and a culmination of taking down a mountain troll, cemented his friendships with the other boys, and Hermes finally had close friends for the first time in his life. Not just close; Best friends. Wonderful friends, who made him smile every day, and gave him something to fight for that meant much more than just grades.

–

SECOND YEAR

Meeting Harry and Dumbledore, two people from books who had done great things, had been something special, but it paled in comparison to meeting a real life author. Hermes had only met a few authors in his life before, all Muggle at his local library, but Gilderoy Lockhart? He was something very very different. He was a hero. He had done great feats and had written about his exploits in many volumes. He also was very handsome, which Hermes hadn’t initially noticed, but after seeing him just a few times, it was hard to not notice it when so many of the girls were sighing over him. He felt a thrill when Professor Lockhart gave him another five points for answering another question right.

Hermes had never really noticed men being handsome like this before, and when Ron noted how many of the girls were taken with Lockhart, it finally clicked into place. Hermes was looking at Lockhart like the girls were…. Well, maybe he was? He wasn’t sure… I mean, who was sure of anything at thirteen? It felt like he was too young to know. He’d never looked at girls at anyone that way, boy or girl. He could tell if someone was good looking or not, of course- but that wasn’t quite the same as that feeling of having a crush on someone.

He’d always been different from everyone else, but this? Oh he couldn’t be that way. It was too different, probably even for the Wizarding world. Hermes hadn’t read about any gay wizards. He’d never read about gay anyone, really, other than Oscar Wilde, and things hadn’t exactly gone well for that Author.

Fleetingly he thought about talking about it with Harry and Ron- but the idea that they would look at him different, or get freaked out and not want to share a dorm with him? It was too much to bear.

No. He’d have to sit on it and tell no one. It’s not like it mattered, really. He was just a kid- and no one was expected to do much dating before they were grown. It’s not like he liked anyone he could actually date anyway. And this was probably just an anomaly of some sort…

–

THIRD YEAR

“You gonna eat that?”

Hermes looked up from the seventh study guide he’d made himself to see Ron pointing at his plate.

“You can have it, I’m busy,” Hemes grunted. Why had he signed up for so many classes? It was absolute madness. He could barely keep up with what day of the week it was anymore, and had so many different exams coming up, and he just knew he’d fail everything, and have to go back home and be alone forever and–

“No, mate. You need to eat up. You’ve barely eaten anything and the meal’s gonna vanish in like ten minutes,” Ron said, pushing his plate over the parchment Hermes had strewn about him.

“No, I need to study! I have boat-loads of work to do, and no matter what I can’t seem to make myself the time to do it all properly, and I just know I’ll be expelled and my parents will never forgive me for disappointing them!”

“Look,” said Ron, gently stopping Hermes’s hands from gathering papers. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and this mad schedule of yours, but you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Hermes looked up into Ron’s earnest face, and the freckled hands holding his own in place, and felt himself begin to blush.

“I… Erm-” Hermes said, flustered in a way he hadn’t ever been with Ron before. “Yes… Yes I need energy… yes…. But I also need to study.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“You’re the smartest person I know, so you’ll be brilliant no matter what- but you can’t study without any energy to do it, right?”

Hermes nodded, his mind buzzing and blank as Ron peered at him.

“How ‘bout this. You finish your plate, and I quiz you while you eat?”

“Alright… I suppose I can do that.”

Ron gave a lopsided smile in return, and the nervous flush worked its way down Hermes’s spine again. He really did need to eat something, because his stomach was starting to lurch and he felt a bit dizzy as Ron grinned at him.

—-

FOURTH YEAR

Hermes had never been much for Quidditch, but the World Quidditch Cup would be an excellent way to learn about other Magical communities, and also it would give Hermes the opportunity to spend time at the Weasley household that summer.

Mr Weasley had scored them some great seats at the top of the stadium, and Hermes couldn’t deny it was rather thrilling to be at such a large stadium like this.

“And now,” Ludo Bagman announced to the stadium, “without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

“I wonder what they brought,” said Mrs Weasley, before leaning forward and polishing his glasses in a flury. “Aaah! Veela!”

“What are veel–?” Harry began to ask, but he trailed off as he looked down at the field. Hermes began to tell Harry exactly what Veela were, but stopped himself when he realized his speech was falling on deaf ears. Harry was staring down at the creatures on the field with a rapturous hungry look that made Hermes roll his eyes. He was about to nudge Ron so they could tease their friend, but strangely Ron was just as taken with the the Veela as Harry. In fact it felt like all the men in the box were looking similarly glassy eyed as they stared down at the women on the field. As the women began to dance the whole stadium’s population of men went mad. It felt like every male was looking on a bit agog, or starting to do something particularly embarrassing to get the Veelas’s attention. All of them except for Hermes.

Harry looked like he was about to fling himself from the box before Hermes stopped him, and Ron was pulled back from a dive by Charlie. The Veela were ushered off the field, and another mascot show of Leprechauns was brought out onto the field- but Hermes paid them no mind. He had a chill running through him. Why hadn’t the Veela affected him?

They’d made Harry and everyone else go mad… Ron too… But not Hermes.

As everyone gleefully scrambled for gold that was raining upon them, Hermes excused himself to the loo.

Since the match was beginning in moments, the room was blissfully empty, and Hermes had a moment to put water on his face and gather himself in total privacy.

“You alright, Hermes?”

He turned about to see Charlie Weasley leaning against the door frame.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit overheated up there.”

“Yeah… energetic lot they are. Either they’re all going mad over gold that’ll disappear in an hour, or Veela are throwing ‘em into a frenzy,” Charlie said with a nod.

Hermes nodded unable to think of anything to say.

“Sure you’re alright? You started looking a bit pale after the Veela left.”

“Well…” Hermes let out, mind reeling for an answer. “Well, Harry and Ron nearly threw themselves from the top of the stadium box. It was quite frightening.”

“We stopped ‘em before making too big of arses of themselves,” Charlie said with a smile. “Even if we hadn’t, there are spells to keep them from falling off, so they weren’t in any real danger.”

“You!” Hermes exclaimed, practically pointing at Charlie, and feeling almost giddy relief. “You weren’t trying to jump out the box. You were able to keep your head like I did!”

“Yeah… I’m not affected by Veela Magic.”

“So Veela… They don’t affect everyone the same then?” Hermes said, a smile on his face. He wasn’t broken or something. It was normal!

“That’s right...”

“Why is that?”

“Well, er…” Charlie said, a hand to the nape of his neck the same way Ron did when he was worried about something. “Veela magic only affects men who are attracted to women.”

The cold feeling in Hermes’s gut was back tenfold. Hermes wanted the floor to swallow him up. He felt like crying.

“I… I’m-- I’m… I thought… So that means…” Hermes let out nonsensically.

“Doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean,” Charlie said, coming close and putting a comforting hand on Hermes’s shoulder. “In my case I’m not really attracted to, well, anyone, so I’m spared the whole Veela horndog nonsense. And you… You’re young and don’t have to have it all figured out right this moment. You can figure out who you are, and who you like, or don’t like, at your own pace. You’ve got plenty of time.”

Hermes swiped at his eyes, feeling tears trying to make their way down his face.

“Did- did anyone else notice?” Hermes murmured as he gave a sniff.

“Notice what? You not reacting? I don’t think so. They were all much more intent on making spectacles of themselves for the Veelas,” Charlie said with a smile.

“I’m already so different from everyone… Muggleborn and a-a bookworm… I don’t want this too!”

“I know…” Charlie said with a sympathetic look. “Want me to escort you back to the tent and make an excuse that you’re ill? Or hang here a bit then go back to the game? Whatever you need, we’ll do.”

Hermes thought a moment before deciding to go back to the game. Charlie did a spell to make Hermes’s face not be so obviously swollen from tears (’Handy spell that! Don’t want the other dragon wranglers to see you cry over a baby dragon being hatched!’) and they decided the excuse for their absence would be they decided to use the loo before the game got going and the crowds got so thick.

As Hermes slid into his seat, Ron handed over his omnioculars for him to use.

“Recorded their entrances for you. Blimey, Hermes, I know you don’t care much for Quidditch, but this is one of the best parts!” he smiled, showing him the cool moves the different players did as they burst into the stadium and describing each one in detail. “And check out Krum! He’s the absolute best player in the world! And practically our age! We could know him. Can you imagine?”

Hermes played along with Ron’s enthusiasm for the game, and found it quickly became real. Ron didn’t seem to have noticed anything, and Hermes felt his body ease with relief. If anyone would notice something was amok with him, it’d be Ron. He felt a warm comfort as his friend put their heads together so he could describe each of the players for Hermes as they looked into the omnioculars. Ron was always so thoughtful that way… And his hair smelled something divine.

—-

FIFTH YEAR

“So… I’m gay.”

“I know.”

“What?” Hermes let out, staring agog at Ginny. “How did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t know-know, but I was pretty certain,” she replied with a shrug, leaning back on the dusty fourposter they sat on. They hadn’t gotten around to cleaning this Grimmauld room yet, they were so busy with their conversation. “I mean, Ron and Harry each have noticed their fair share of girls by now, between Veelas, and Cho… And you never have seemed to notice any girls.”

Ginny and Hermes had been a touch closer since attending the Yule Ball together the previous year, and his fourth year at Hogwarts had made him take the time to figure out who he was, and who he liked, just as Charlie had said he would.

Who was he? Hermes Granger. Muggleborn. Gay. Who did he like? men, it seemed. And one in particular. Hermes kept trying to quiet the crush he’d been growing, but he could no longer deny the feelings that had been growing for Ron since third year.

“I haven’t told anyone else… Well, Charlie knows I’m not straight because of that whole Veela incident. And Viktor knows since, well… We snogged and all…”

“Hah, yeah, I’d say that’d lead to him knowing!” Ginny snorted with a good-natured grin. “Are you planning on telling Harry and Ron?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Hermes fretted, biting his lower lip. “It could change a lot of things…”

“Want me to feel it out for you? Not you being gay, but gay people in general? Just make sure you feel extra safe?”

“I don’t know that you need to do that. It’’s one thing for it to be gay people in theory, but quite another for it to be your friend and dormmate, so I’m not sure how much security I’d get with it. Thank you for the offer though.”

“Of course!” said Ginny before giving Hermes a hug. “Thank you so much for trusting me with this. I’m sure it will all go fine, though! I mean, it’s Harry and Ron!”

“Yes, I’m sure….”

“If they give you crap I’ll hex them.”

“I can hex them myself, but thank you for the offer.”

“Hex who?” came Ron’s voice from the hall coming into the bedroom.

“Snape, “ Ginny coolly lied. “How long you been out there.”

“Just escaped, haven’t I?” he said sitting on the bed beside Hermes. He was a bit covered in dust and sweaty. “Oh! This is a brilliant way to escape Mum. She won’t want to have to huff it up five flights.”

“She can just Apparate, can’t she?” Hermes suggested.

“She doesn’t like Apparition all that much, so hopefully she won’t. I just want to hang out with my mate, and I guess you too Ginny.”

“Thanks much, Ron,” Ginny said with a two fingered salute he returned. “I’ll go see what the twins are up to.”

“Maybe she’ll lay off a bit when Harry gets here?”

“She didn’t when I got here,” Hermes noted.

“Oh right.” Ron laid back on the bed and put his arms behind his head. He’d grown even taller over the summer, and laid out as he was Hermes found it hard to think straight. “Well, at least for now we get some time just you and me. We need to make sure to keep a habit of it this year. I miss it when we don’t have that. ”

“You do?”

“‘Course I do,” Ron said, giving a punch to Hermes’s arm that hurt a bit, but made him smile. “I know this isn’t much of a vacation for you, but I’m glad you came.”

Hermes couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, really. Even though Grimmauld place was dusty, dark and highly disturbing, it was worth sacrificing any trip with his parents to spend more time with Ron. And Harry too, of course.

–

SIXTH YEAR

Hermes had been feeling rather giddy that evening. He had successfully asked Ron to the Slug Club Christmas Party earlier that week, and he’d been thoroughly blissed out ever since. Sure, it wasn’t really a date. He couldn’t very well say it was one, of course- Ron was straight and Hermes hadn’t told anyone but Ginny he was gay… But this certainly felt like a date and he could pretend, dammit. Ron looked happy to be his guest for the party, and Hermes was looking forward to seeing him in the dress robes the twins had gotten him.

“Hermes?”

He looked up from his homework to see a teary eyed Ginny approaching him in the common room. Dean had come in not long before, but had made a beeline for their dormitory.

“Are you alright?” he said standing from his chair, hoping Dean hadn’t done something to hurt her.

“I need to talk to you in private.”

“Okay…” He quickly gathered his work into his bookbag and followed her down the cooridor.

“Hermes. I’m… You’ll never forgive me, and you shouldn’t… But I can’t let you walk into this without knowing. I’m… I’m so so so sorry!”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I… I got into a fight with Ron. He and Harry walked in on me and Dean snogging, and he was doing his usual overprotective brother act and trying to shame me for kissing my effing boyfriend… And I was popping off- and then I… I told him he was the only one who thought it was disgusting because he had no experience, then I said Harry had snogged Cho and… I mentioned. Oh fuck–”

“What?”

“I said you had snogged Viktor! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking and now they know. I’m so so so sorry!”

Hermes couldn’t breath.

“I’m so sorry, I said it and then not a second later I realized what it meant for me to have said it. I pointed my wand at them and told them not to tell anyone- I don’t know how to obliviate someone safely or I would. I’m so so sorry, Hermes. I didn’t mean to tell your secret.”

“Did… What did they say?”

“Not much. After I told them not to tell anyone, Harry said they wouldn’t, and Ron nodded- and then I ran straight here to tell you what happened.”

Hermes quietly leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, numb.

“No one else knows. I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?”

Hermes shook his head. Nothing could be done. They knew. Harry and Ron knew. He was out.

Hermes waited up as late as he could in the Common Room before slipping into his four poster. He set a tempus spell to wake him so he could avoid Harry and Ron that morning as well. He got up before them, went to the kitchens to eat, and then went straight back to his four poster. He didn’t have it in him to go to class, and instead spent most of the day getting ahead on homework, conjuring a flock of birds, and napping.

“Hermes?” he heard Harry’s voice outside his fourposter. The room was quite dark. He must have slept a good portion of the day away. He couldn’t answer, for fear that his voice would wobble and give out.

“We have sandwiches,” came Ron’s voice.

Hermes had to admit, breakfast was at least twelve hours away and his stomach was growling. He opened the curtains to see his best friends.

“Sandwich?” asked Harry, giving Ron a nudge that prompted him to proffer a napkin full of what must have been sandwiches. Hermes gave a shrug and took the proffered bundle of sandwiches.

“You missed class today,” said Harry.

“Yes I did.”

“Mind if we sit?”

Hermes shook his head. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, while Ron stood by looking for a place to put his hands, finally settling on his pockets.

“So…” Hermes began, deciding it best not to delay the inevitable. “Ginny told you that… That-”

“That you snogged Viktor Krum,” Ron finished for him, frowning at the floor.

“Yes… that,” Hermes said with a rough swallow.

“So does that mean you’re gay then? Or…” Harry trailed off.

Hermes slowly nodded.

“How’d you know?” Ron asked, sharply looking Hermes in the eye for the first time.

“Oh, erm…” said Hermes, thinking back to the Veelas he’d seen a few years prior. “I suppose at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Oh… When you… Was it seeing Krum?” Ron frowned, while Harry nervously looked between the two of them.

Hermes was about to protest it was the Veela, but Harry interrupted with a–

“And that’s fine!” Harry said, looking like he wanted the conversation to end quickly, as he normally did whenever anyone talked about anything remotely personal. “You know it doesn’t matter that you’re… you’re gay or whatever, right? Not to us.”

They looked to Ron, who nodded as well.

“I promise, this won’t affect our friendship. Things between us all are completely platonic,” Hermes said, almost desperate to make eye contact with Ron especially. “You mean so much to me, and I just… I don’t know what’d I’d do if you stopped being my friends…”

He felt himself wanting to cry and swiped at his eyes before he could properly start.

“We’re still your friends, you daft bugger,” Ron said, before putting a hand to his mouth. “Can I say that? I’m sorry.”

“As long as we can call you that, I think I’ll let it slide” Hermes said with a smile.

“Oh like you ever swear,” Ron teased back. Peace seemed to have been restored, but Ron still looked a bit down. “Well… I’m gonna go off for a bit…”

Ron left the room without another word.

“Do you think he’s really ok with this?” Hermes asked Harry.

“Sandwiches are from him,” Harry said rather vaguely. This was as close to talking about feelings he and Harry had ever gotten, and neither were comfortable with that prospect. Harry continued to look at Hermes in a plaintive sort of way. “Er, well…. Maybe Ginny would explain it better.”

“Ginny’s done more than enough ‘explaining’ thank you very much,” Hermes said crossing his arms. “Why don’t you join Ron. I’ll be awful company.”

“You’ll come to class tomorrow, though, right?”

“I suppose I must. Thank Ron for the sandwiches.”

—-

The next morning Hermes woke early again, but instead of running away he waited for Ron and Harry in the common room. A feeling of deep relaxation had seeped into him. He was reminded of when he’d try to bring all the groceries into the house in one go for his parents- the bags cutting into his fingers as he precariously tried to balance them and not drop anything, and the strange elation he felt upon reached the kitchen island without dropping anything.

The triumphant unencumbered feeling was quashed rather quickly as he made his way to breakfast with Harry and Ron. Harry seemed his normal self, but Ron was in a dark mood no one could escape. He sat at breakfast stabbing his potatoes with much more violence than any starchy vegetable required, was being oddly icy and indifferent with Hermes during class, and even went to Quidditch practice snarling at everyone as if they too were errant potatoes that needed a lesson taught to them.

By the morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin Hermes had enough and was barely able to be in Ron’s grouchy presence. Upon walking into the Great Hall, though, Hermes couldn’t resist checking to make sure Ron was doing alright with his pre-game jitters. As usual Ron’s nerves were shot, until Harry seemingly had put luck potion into the redhead’s juice. Hermes couldn’t believe Harry would stoop so low, and all through the game Hermes glowered as Ron played amazingly well, culminating in a fantastic Gryffindor victory. The whole of Gryffindor was so ecstatic they decided to throw a victory party.

Hermes couldn’t be happy for them, knowing Harry and Ron had cheated, but when he went to call them out Harry revealed there was no potion used at all. It was merely a trick to get Ron into a better mindset for the game.

“You added Felix Felixis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything!” Ron said imitating Hermes’s uppish tone well. “See! I can save goals without help. Might not be an International Quidditch star, but I can play well.”

“I never said you couldn’t– Ron, You thought you’ve been given it too!“

Ron strode past Hermes without acknowledging him, broomstick on his wide shoulders.

“Er, shall… shall we go up to the party then?” Harry asked.

“You go! I’m sick of Ron at the moment,” he said storming out of the changing rooms. Why was Ron acting this way? They’d been getting on just fine, hadn’t they? Ron didn’t mind that Hermes was gay, did he? Even if he did, why would he be in a such a foul mood with everyone else?

Hermes went to the common room, where the party was in full swing. Alcohol was definitely involved creating a scene Hermes had little interest in. He was about to go up to his dorm room when he spotted Ron, wrapped in Lavender Brown’s arms, the two snogging as if it were the end of the world. A sickening sensation of falling came over Hermes, though he still stood on his feet quite steadily. Heart in his throat, and too many bodies between him and his dorm room, Hermes fled from the Common room to a small classroom down the hall.

Hermes had always known there was no chance between him and Ron. Ron liked Veela. He liked Madame Rosmerta. And now, he liked Lavender Brown. Buxom beautiful blonde women, that’s what Ron liked; Not bookish, brown, blokes. Not Hermes.

Hermes conjured some bird around him, hoping route spellwork might calm his flayed nerves, but any plans to gather himself together were quickly quashed when the door behind him burst open.

Ron came in laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand. “Oh,” he said, drawing up short at the sight of Hermes.

“Oops!” said Lavender as she backed out of the room giggling.

The door swung shut behind her. There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermes stared at Ron, who refused to look at him, but said with an of mixture of bravado and awkwardness, “Hi… Didn’t see you at the party!”

Hermes didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but before he could think he shouted ‘Oppugno!’ and the birds he’d conjured rained down upon Ron like a hail of bullets, scratching and pecking at him as he yelped and covered his face with his hands.

Hermes didn’t care if boys shouldn’t cry. He ran down the hall to find another room and sobbed, unable to stop himself.

—

The next day the whole school was talking about it. Lavender had told Parvati, who had told Susan and Padma, who had told other people- and finally the whole school knew.

Hermes was jealous of Lavender. Hermes was gay for Ron.

He’d been straight up asked if he was gay by a Ravenclaw, and instead of lying he said yes. He hadn’t meant to, but he was so used to answering questions first and accurately that he’d shocked himself when he said it.

Now everyone’s eyes were on him as he went through the halls the next few weeks.

In class Ron ignored him, while Lavender pawed at him. Harry doggedly looked ahead and tried to act like nothing was happening, or glared at onlookers, but it was a bit hard for Hermes to ignore the whispers. Perhaps Harry was better at it as he was so used to rumors flying about him. Hermes was used to being ignored, and the sudden lack of anonymity was jarring.

Ginny made a point of walking with Hermes, and got as many friends as she could to do the same. Much of Gryffindor had rallied around him for meals, and it was a good thing too, because the rumor mill was getting particularly vicious one night at dinner.

“I mean are any of us actually surprised he’s a flaming homosexual?” said Zacharias Smith rather loudly at the Hufflepuff table. “He’s always been a bit of a limp-wristed bookworm. Don’t drop your soap around him! I heard he’s tried to go down on like all the male professors to get such good grades.”

“That’s it! I’m gonna remove your balls, Smith!” Ginny growled, bursting up from the table in a fury. Harry had similarly raised his wand, as well as a few other students.

“Don’t!” Hermes let out, but behind them there was a blur of someone who kept moving forward, and Smith was on the ground in moments his face bleeding.

“You shut your fucking mouth, Smith! You shut your fucking mouth!” Ron was growling as he continued to pummel the blonde. Smith didn’t take it lying completely down, and rolled Ron’s head into the bench seat as he tried to punch and kick back.

“Mr Weasley! Mr Smith! What are you doing? Stop fighting this instant!” came the cry of Professor McGonagall, as she and a few other teachers flew from the Head Table. Ron punched the Hufflepuff a few more times until Harry and Neville pulled him off.

“‘E attaged me for no reason a’ all!” Smith lied as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

“That’s not true, professor, he was saying absolutely atrocious things about Hermes!” Lavender said, and many other students were nodding alongside her from the tables.

“I’d do it again!” Ron spat, wiping at the blood dripping down from his eyebrow.

“Yes, I’m sure you would,” McGonagall said, and Hermes was certain he saw a small smirk cross her thin mouth.

“Well, twenty points from both houses,” Sprout said.

“Bud he jumbt me!” Smith complained.

“Yes, that’s why we’re only taking the twenty from our house for your bullying, Smith,” Sprout said. “Best get you both to the hospital wing.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital wing,” Ron said, swiping at his eyebrow.

“I’ll accompany them to my office for detention assignments as well as the hospital,” said McGonagall.

Hermes and Harry went to follow, but McGonagall stopped them with a quick gesture.

Just as many students were looking at Hermes as before, but he felt impervious to the stares. The only eyes that mattered were Ron’s as he glanced back at Hermes while being escorted from the Great Hall.

Later that night Harry and Hermes waited for Ron to come back, and when it was quite late he came through the portrait hole, a black eye forming.

“Oh no!” Hermes let out. “I thought you were going to go to the hospital wing.”

“I did. Fight like a Muggle get healed like a Muggle. Should’ve hexed his stupid mouth off,” Ron muttered sitting next to Hermes on the settee.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did!” Ron said, looking to Harry for back up.

Harry fervently nodded in agreement. “Of course he did!”

“Well, at least let me heal you up. I’ll get some dittany.”

“I’ll get it,” Harry said, going up the stairs, leaving Ron and Hermes behind.

“You can’t go about fighting everyone. You two are ridiculous,” Hermes said, sitting back in his chair.

“We’re not! People can’t talk that way about you, Hermes!” Ron said, his large fists balled so tight his bruised knuckles had gone white. Hermes took one of Ron’s hand to inspect the knuckles.

“I’m used to bullying because of what I am already,” he hummed. “This isn’t all that different really.”

“They didn’t try to say you don’t earn your grades because you’re Muggleborn, though. They didn’t try to make you out as some kind of… I don’t even know what word there is for it. It was sick.”

“Well, please don’t punch the next person who says something. You could get hurt more seriously than you already did,” Hermes said, thumb grazing near Ron’s cut in his eyebrow. Ron shut his eyes a moment and the two of them sat, just listening to each other’s breaths “Thank you, though. For-- for standing up for me like that. I’m glad you… you still care.”

“Are you mad? Of course I care!” Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well… After everything, you’ve been so mad at me, and then I attacked you, and now the rumors about me…”

“Which rumors?” Ron asked, expression closed, all except his eyes that pierced through any composure Hermes had.

“Well, the one really. The one about how I’m…” Hermes had to gather his courage to finish his sentence, “I’m jealous of Lavender.”

Ron’s breath seemed to stop, and so did Hermes’s.

“People are saying I’m jealous of Lavender and that’s why I attacked you with birds,” Hermes said, feeling his face begin to heat up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why did you then?”

“What?”

“Why’d you attack me with the birds if you weren’t jealous.”

“Well… The truth is…” Hermes couldn’t think of a good answer for that that would pass true muster. Ron was looking at him so fervently he decided lying made little sense. Even if it came to nothing, Hermes couldn’t keep up his facade with Ron a moment longer. He’d been hiding enough of himself. “The truth is, I am jealous.”

Ron’s eyebrows disappeared into his fringe, and his mouth almost hung open. “You said... You said it was platonic between us.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermes said quickly before pressing on. “I’ve… I’ve fancied you for ages, but I know you don’t feel the same. That’s why I’ve never said anything til now. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry… I know you’re not… like me, and this doesn’t change anything in our friendship and–”

Ron’s lips met his, and Hermes froze in surprise. It was the tenderest most beautiful kiss he could have imagined. It ended all too soon though, as Harry’s footsteps echoed into the room, and they wrenched apart right before he rounded the corner.

He looked between his friends in a curious manner, before placing the dittany and a flannel between them.

“I’m a bit tired. Going off to Bedfordshire,” he let out, wincing at himself before leaving.

They were both red in the face and nervously began to laugh.

“I guess I better fix you up, then,” said Hermes, taking the flannel and applying dittany to Ron’s wounds. Ron gave a small hiss as the wound closed up in his eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” said Hermes, stopping up the bottle again. “I suppose we ought to go to bed then?”

“Not yet, no,” Ron said, leaning over to gently hold Hermes’s chin and bring him in for another kiss. Hermes gratefully returned it, and was surprised at how quickly it became heated, burning through him, and growing a deep hunger within him that had nothing to do with food. As they came up for a bit more air, Ron let out snort.

“What’s so funny?”

“How daft the two of us are. You jealous over Lavender, and me over Krum.”

“Viktor? That was two years ago!”

“Well I didn’t know that! I only found out a month ago. He’s an international Quidditch player, and you snogged him. Plus, he was your ‘sexual awakening’ or whatever.”

“He was not!”

“You said you figured out you were gay at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“That was because I had no interest in the Veela. Not because of Viktor. I didn’t even know Viktor then.”

“Doesn’t stop you from thinking he’s good looking,” Ron said with a shrug, putting a hand on his neck.

“Oh ho! Who had a sexual awakening over Krum now?” Hermes laughed, delighted at the way Ron’s ears flamed up. “Frankly I was more distracted by you at the World Cup as you shared your omnioculars with me…”

“You were?” Ron smiled broadly.

“Yes,” Hermes smiled back, before it faltered. “So… I said I fancy you, but you haven’t actually said anything like that to me…”

“I was just kissing you!”

“You’ve been doing plenty of kissing lately,” Hermes said archly.

“Okay, that’s fair enough…” Ron said putting his head down. “I just… I was feeling down, and thought maybe it’d be easier to get over you if I tried things out with Lavender… She was there and believed in me… You were into famous Quidditch players, and said it was platonic between us- while she fancied me, of all people. I hadn’t a clue you might like me back. ”

“I do like you. Quite a lot, actually.”

“And I’ve fancied you for ages. Never thought it could actually happen though. Was bloody brilliant kissing you, finally.”

“It was bloody brilliant,” Hermes grinned.

“Let’s make a habit of it,” Ron said leaning in for another kiss.

“Are we… Are we going to be a couple then?” Hermes whispered as Ron’s mouth made its way down the column of his neck.

“Yeah,” Ron whispered back against his skin. “

“Publicly?”

“Is there another way to be a couple?” Ron asked, perplexed.

Hermes leaned back to stare at Ron, and take him all in. “You’re bloody brilliant, you are.”

“That’s my line,” Ron replied, before quieting Hermes with a kiss.

—-

just to be clear, Lavender wasn’t maliciously trying to out Hermes- this was the 90s and people were less aware of how to treat things like this then.

So hope you guys liked it! If you did, let me know in the tags or comments! :D

#romione #m/m #fanfinction #fan fic #ron weasley #hermes granger #hermione granger #Anonymous

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gimmesumsuga · 6 years

Text

Sweeter Than Sweet (1)

Pairing: Jimin x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: None to note.

Summary: You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction.

Word count: 2.5K

As of this July (2020), Sweeter than Sweet turned three years old! As I'm currently in the midst of a horrendous writing slump (urgh) I've decided to go back and slowly work my way through, editing chapter by chapter, as I feel that some parts could do with a fair bit of tweaking.

For those of you who've already read it, there won't be any major plot changes - just tightening up of grammar/plot holes/dialogue. For those of you who're new to Sweeter than Sweet, I sincerely hope you enjoy yourself ^^

Feedback is always encouraged and appreciated! Thank you <3

*Chapter edited as of 07/08/20*

“You coming, or what?” With a gleefully mischievous expression, your friend glances back at you over her shoulder, her pretty face framed by full, dark curls. You nod and smile to mollify her but the moment that her back is turned your nervous eyes begin scanning the room; darting this way and that, corner to corner.

The club is packed, hot bodies thronging as far as the eye can see as you trail closely behind your companion, grimacing at the feel of sweaty arms brushing against you as you squeeze your way by. If you’re being honest, clubbing has never really been your thing and neither have crowds; especially not ones this loud and drunken.

You have to admit, though: there’s a sense of anonymity that comes with blending between dancers in the dark that appeals to you - contentment in becoming just another nameless body amongst the writhing masses. Barely anyone even pays you a second glance, and why should they? By no means is this your usual playground, nor a place you feel much at home.

You find your way to the bar and join your friend eventually, hopping into a newly vacated stool with a heavy sigh of relief. Maybe if you’re sat down Sam might be less likely to try dragging you onto the dance floor. You can live in hope, after all.

“What's your poison?” she calls over the thumping music. Her hips are already swinging back and forth to the bass as you inspect the assortment of colourful bottles lining the back wall, squinting your eyes in hopes of spotting a name you might recognise. You end up none the wiser for doing so, however, resorting to eyeing the drink that’s just landed in front of Sam instead; a bright orange concoction that the barman pours with a flourish into a tall cocktail glass.

“I’ll just have what you’re having!” you call, raising your voice in an attempt to be heard over the din that surrounds you. You’re not sure you’re successful, to be honest, but Sam must understand your gesticulating well enough because minutes later an identical drink lands in front of you - cocktail umbrella and all. You take a cautious sip whilst your friend looks around - searching for tonight’s prey, no doubt - and you’re relieved that she misses the way you grimace at the drink’s slightly bitter aftertaste. She’d only make you down it even faster if she had.

“Lots of cute guys tonight!” Sam observes enthusiastically, her eyebrows lifting as she sips her drink and blinks back at you from over the rim.

“Mmmhm,” you agree non-committedly, casting a glance around to at least feign some sort of interest.

The guys you tend to find in these kinds of places have never particularly appealed to you. They’re only after one thing, usually - with no shame about showing it - and whilst you’re sure there are some women out there that find that kind of sleazy, fuckboy confidence attractive, you’re not one of them.

“You coming to dance?” You don’t even bother to reply to Sam’s question, simply cocking your head to the side and shooting her a wry smile at the fact she’d even ask. “Fair enough,” she grins, shrugging her shoulders. Undeterred by your lack of enthusiasm, she downs her cocktail in a series of impressive gulps and then heads out into the crowd, her jacket slung over the back of your stool left behind as your only company.

Maybe if you were the more sociable sort you might mind being left to your own devices. As it is, though, you’re quite content to sit quietly at the bar, singing under your breath as your head bobs. The music is one of the only perks that keep you agreeing to come back here whenever Sam gets that certain ‘itch’ that only booze and boys can scratch. That, along with your total inability to ever say no, of course.

It’s a shame the drinks are so watered-down; you might actually start having a good time if they packed a little more of a punch. By the time you’re half-way down your second, though, you're starting to think that maybe they’re not so bad. With each sip you take the more pleasant the taste becomes (but then maybe that's just the schnapps talking).

You’re busily sucking on a slice of orange when Sam returns, breathless but happy. She brushes back the pieces of fringe stuck to her forehead as she grins at you, the scent of her perfume and perspiration hitting your nose.

“Fuck it’s hot,” she declares, fanning herself with her hands. Abruptly, she turns on the spot and grabs an empty glass straight out the hands of the man standing next to her, tipping what little ice remains into her palm. You can’t help but laugh as the poor boy then gawps, open-mouthed, while Sam rubs said ice across her flushed chest with a sigh of relief, totally unconcerned with the streaks of water that dribble down the front of her dress as it melts.

You can’t blame him for staring. Sam’s gorgeous and always has been, with her raven coloured hair and killer curves. Even if she were a wallflower like you, she’d probably still be the centre of attention.

“Thanks!” she smiles sweetly, promptly dismissing him with a turn of her back and a flip of her hair before he has hopes of starting up a conversation.

“You’re ridiculous,” you grin, popping the orange slice back into your mouth with a shake of your head. Sam casts you a roguish wink, about to turn and order another drink when all of a sudden her eyes widen, looking beyond you to someone sitting further down the bar.

“Maybe I am,” she admits, corner of her lip curling into a smirk, “ But so’s he .” She nods her head in the direction she’s looking as an indicator for you to turn and look too; the idea of being subtle not even crossing your mind before you swivel round in your seat to follow her eye-line, orange peel still gripped between your teeth.

It’s immediately obvious who your friend is talking about - a man leaning against the bar just a few metres away whose appearance is so startling that it borders on impropriety. The strobe lights paint his face with striking shades of blue and green in perfect time with the music, highlighting his cheekbones and flawlessly smooth skin to give him an almost ethereal look. He's unlike anyone else you’ve ever seen. Beautiful beyond words.

You’d expect people to be crowding around him - to be vying for his attention - but it’s almost as though there’s some invisible force keeping them at bay; something stopping them getting too close. He’s given a wide berth; a respectful distance that makes you think perhaps they’re able to sense the powerful aura emanating from him, too.

He’s alluring and alarming all at once, but even more so when he turns his head and his eyes lock onto yours.

Caught, you quickly look away, pulling the fruit from your mouth as your head turns. It’s disturbing how shaken you feel from nothing more than a little eye contact - how hard the mere sight of him has your heart pounding.

“Go for it.” You hope Sam won’t notice the falter in your smile or how feeble your enthusiasm sounds. “He’s cute.” This won’t be the first time you’ve felt envious of Sam’s good looks and it probably won’t be the last, but you’ve never allowed that jealousy to get in the way of your friendship. Any inferiority complex you may have is your problem, not hers.

And hey, at least this way you might get to live vicariously.

“Sweetie,” she coos, stepping closer so she can speak into your ear whilst keeping her eyes on the stranger. “Trust me, I would, but I don’t think I’m the one he’s after.”

“Really?” The question escapes your lips before you can think about how pathetically eager you must sound.

“Really.” You risk another glance and sure enough, the stranger is still looking, his eyes unblinking as he stirs at the drink in front of him with a straw. Swallowing hard, you turn away, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you feel your cheeks begin to fill with heat.

Is it just embarrassment that’s to blame, or could it be the intensity of his gaze making them burn?

“You gonna go over?”

“You think I should?” you ask in reply, flustered by this unfamiliar situation in which you find yourself. You’re not used to this; have no idea what to do or how to act. Do you even want his attention? You’re about to ask Sam for her pearls of wisdom when her doe eyes suddenly widen once more, her hands flapping against your forearm in excitement.

“He’s coming!” she squeals, grinning maniacally as she grabs the drink that’s appeared in front of her in preparation to make a hasty exit.

“Don’t you dare, Samantha! You dare leave me!” you hiss through gritted teeth, pleading with your eyes, but it’s no good. Seconds later and she’s gone, slipped off into the crowd with a parting ‘thumbs up’ like the vile traitor she is. You lean on the bar, your forehead resting on the palm of your hand as you close your eyes and try to slow the pace of your shallow, panicky breaths.

This is just a mistake. It has to be. There’s no way a guy that gorgeous would-

“Hello.” A sweet, soft voice finds your ears and you jump to attention, sitting bolt upright and eyes blown wide.

Sam wasn’t mistaken. It really must’ve been you that he was looking at because now he’s here , standing right beside you with a playful smile upon his face and very little regard for the concept of personal space.

As impossible as it may seem, the man before you is even more bewitching up close than he had been from a distance; his eyes dark and piercing, lips thick and plump. Gawking, you find yourself utterly lost for words, but thankfully the beautiful stranger’s smile just grows, his lips parting to reveal a perfect set of sparkling white teeth.

“I’m Jimin.” He introduces, placing his drink down beside yours, his eyebrows slowly rising the more time that goes by without you giving any form of reply.

Oh god, why won’t your mouth work? What's wrong with you?!

“I could just call you jagiya if you don’t want to tell me your name, sweetheart,” he smiles, and you can’t help but watch with fascination at the way his mouth twists around the foreign word; so melodic in comparison to your native tongue.

Blushing at the term of endearment he so casually bestows on you, you blurt out your name in a hurry and chase it with a rather large, hurried gulp of your drink. Tunefully, Jimin laughs at your nervousness, his grey bangs falling into his eyes only to be pushed back with a brush of a delicate hand; the gesture well-practised and smooth. You’re relieved that Jimin looks merely amused by your awkwardness rather than pitying. Honestly, you’re wondering why on earth he’s still here given that you've already let slip how socially inept you can be.

Mustering your courage, you swallow your nerves and fold your hands together in your lap; something to hold onto.

“I don't get out much, I guess. You can probably tell," you admit sheepishly, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. You still catch the corner of his mouth curling into a hint of a smile, though, and it draws your eyes back to his face; a moth to a flame.

“Never would've guessed.” There’s a slight accent to the tone with which he teases, but you’re not well travelled enough to hazard a guess as to where he might be from. It’s a charming lilt, nonetheless.

Jimin places one hand on the back of your stool, leaning in, and his proximity has your heart hammering in your chest as you catch a whiff of his aftershave, sweet and heady.

“Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” His breath caresses your ear and the hairs on the back of your neck rise, enticed. Jimin pulls back just enough so as to look into your eyes, and you find yourself fighting the urge to confess that you’d happily be anywhere else as long as he was there with you.

Best not to seem too desperate, after all.

“At home,” you reply, eyes downcast as you speak quietly into your lap. Somehow, Jimin still manages to hear you. “In bed.” Realising how easily your words might be misconstrued, you quickly meet his gaze, cheeks flushing as you add, “Reading. Watching TV. Nothing too exciting.”

Jimin is so intense, so focused on your every word, that you can barely stand to look at him.

“And is there someone missing you there tonight?” he asks, the hand that was resting on the stool shifting, grazing the lightest of touches down the length of your arm. Goosebumps rise in his wake. “At home? In bed?”

“No.” You bite your lip, hands tightening around one another. Your palms are sweating. “No one.” You can’t quite hear the sound he makes but you could guess that he’s tutting, his face twisting in displeasure as he does so.

“How can it be-” Jimin questions, stepping close enough that the tops of his thighs kiss your knees, “- that a woman like you.” The fingers that were dancing along your arm reach up to tuck the hair that’s fallen in front of your face behind your ear, gentle. “A beautiful woman like you.” Jimin takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger to keep you from looking away, and though you love each and every touch, oh, you wish he wouldn't. It's too hard to breathe when he’s looking in your eyes; too close when he's leaning over you. “Spends a single night alone?”

A beat passes and you know he’s expecting an answer by the way his head tilts subtly to the side, but once again you're stricken dumb. Why on earth would someone like him ever want somebody like you? You keep expecting him to suddenly laugh; to sneer at you and tell you all this attention has been nothing but a lie - a cruel joke at your expense.

Instead, Jimin does the opposite and closes the gap between you to place his lips on yours. It's a chaste, fleeting kiss, and it catches you so off guard that you completely forget that you’re supposed to do anything more than just sit there like a statue. Lucky it's so brief, or else you might just make a fool of yourself.

“So sweet…” The words are sighed against your mouth before he pulls away, and as he straightens to his full height and runs his thumb along the angle of your jaw, you notice his Adam’s apple bob heavily in his throat.

Perhaps your drink was stronger than usual, or maybe you drank it too fast? Surely that can be the only reason that your head feels like it’s swimming - dizzy with excitement. Tipsiness doesn’t explain the unfamiliar unfurling of heat in your abdomen, though, nor the ache between your legs that only grows as you Jimin’s eyes linger on the curve of your neck. His look is pure heat; seduction oozing from every pore as he offers you his hand with a slow, easy smile.

“Come with me."

#bts #bts vampire!au #jimin x reader #jimin/reader #jimin smut #vampire!jimin #vampire!bts #bts smut #bts smut fanfiction #bts fluff #jimin fluff #bts angst #jimin angst #bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #sweeter than sweet

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faketextstuff · 6 years

Text

The Arrangement Pt6

Summary:: You’ve never imagined yourself being a sugar baby but because of some playful friends and a stroke of luck, you find yourself with a man who is apparently willing to give you the moon and stars. The only problem is, no strings attached. Don’t catch feelings, don’t fall for a man who thinks money can solve all your issues and doesn’t want commitment.

Warnings: Very brief sexual content, if you squint you’ll see it. Eventual smut. Slow burn!!!!!

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

A/N: Sorry this part took me forever to crank out! It was much longer but it wouldn’t post I had to shorten it! SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS! I DID THIS ON MY PHONE!

You were amazed at the size of Yoongi's penthouse! He had saved you from a traumatic day at work by just showing up and giving you a shoulder to cry and vent on, now he was showing you how large and amazing his penthouse was! It was a total of four bedrooms and three full bathrooms. Three of the four bedrooms had a huge king sized bed, full walk-in closets and the bathrooms each came equipped with a jet tub and shower. Half of the penthouse didnt looked lived it, it looked like something you'd see in a magazine. The only sign that this flat had someone living in it, were the dishes that were in the sink and the couch that looked beyond worn out. There were a few work files on the coffee table next to a cold cup of coffee. Clearly Yoongi brought his work home with him.

As he lead you through the flat, you noticed a large single door at the end of the hall, the door was a glass down but the glass was frosted over making it impossible to see in side. You also noticed the small keypad that replaced the normal lock and door knob. "What room is that?" You asked giving his hand, that was held firmly in yours, a gentle tug.

Yoongi paused his tour and glanced to the door. "That's my private studio. I'm the only one with the code and that's the only room that's off limits to you." He explained briefly before giving your hand another tug as he lead you away from the mysterious studio door towards the last room on the tour. "This is the master bedroom, normally I'd say this is where you would be sleeping. But since we're not physical, this is my room. You'll take the room right across the hall." He smirked over at you before releasing your hand and pushing open the large doors.

Your jaw instantly dropped when you stepped foot into the room. It was massive! It was a modern day mansion. All the furniture and decor was silver and black. The bed was a large king size that sat on a low black frame. The headboard was black and looked to be made of some kind of smooth metal or steel. The sheets were fluffy and white. It looked as if you could drown in all the comfy pillows that lined across the headboard. There was a large flat screen mounted on the wall right across from the bed and under the TV sat a black dresser with silver hardware. The room as utterly beautiful. "You live here in this huge flat alone?" You asked glancing over at Yoongi.

He simply shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the double sized walk-in closet, disappearing momentarily only to return with a oversized button down shirt. "No, lately Jimin, our I.T. guy has been staying over. He recently bought a house and is just waiting for everything to be final before he moves. Normally it's just him here. I work a lot and sometimes sleep in my office."

You frowned at the thought of him staying alone in that cold office sleeping on a hard leather couch. You took the shirt from his hand and gave a tilt of your head. "You should really sleep in your bed. You'd get more rest that way."

"Maybe I find it lonely." He shot back with a smirk, taking a step closer to you.

You bit your lip to hold back your own smirk. Clearly he loved teasing you so you had to give back a little teasing of your own. You didnt always want to be a blushing mess when he was around. You wanted to show that you could give it back as good as he could. "You mean you'd sleep in your bed if I was with you?"

"Babygirl, if you were in my bed, I'd get even less sleep than I do now." He teased with a chuckle, his long fingers going up to grip a piece of your wine stained hair. "However if you wanted to edit the contract..." he hummed in thought, closing the gap between you, his body millimeters from yours.

"Seven days, Yoongi." You muttered under your breath.

Yoongi's expression hardened for a moment as his body tensed. "That only means I have seven days to win you over. On the eighth day..." he trailed off, giving the strand of hair in his hands a gentle tug.

"What happens on the eighth day?" You already knew where his mind was leading but a.part of you needed to hear him say it, to actually hear what his intentions were with you after the contract was up.

"That day is a surprise." He smirked before pulling back. "Go get a shower, Taehyung will be here in about thirty minutes to take you shopping."

Your eyes went wide, "T-Taehyung? Kim Taehyung? The designer?"

Yoongi chuckled at your response and nodded, "He works for me. He's a close personal friend of mine. Plus he loves dressing people up so he's gonna love you, you cute little dress up doll, you." Yoongi playfully reached up and pinched your cheek.

You winced and batted his hand away. "Hands off the face." You hissed in a teasing manner.

"Oh? Where else would you like my hands then?" Yoongi smirked taking a step forward so his body was pressed close to yours, his hands circling around to press against your lower back.

Unable to suppress the gasp that fell from your lips, you stumbled forward at the sudden contact, your hands landing against his chest. "I...uh..." you breathed out looking up at him through the strands of sticky hair that hung in your face. He was wearing a smug expression as he watched you become so red faced and flustered by just being in his arms.

"Babygirl, are you going to be able to resist me for seven days?" He asked cockily. Your gaze locked on to his and you couldn't even respond. You knew he was just teasing and messing around with you, but being so close, feeling his chest rising and falling under your finger tips, smelling his cologne, his warm breath fanning your face, it was all too much and you suddenly got an urge. You wanted to kiss him. Maybe it was the playfulness of his words, or the fact it had been years since you had any physical contact, you just wanted to taste his lips. Your eyes traveled down to his lips for a quick moment.

He watched your eyes and at that moment, it was as if he could read your mind. He knew what you wanted because it was what he wanted. He wasn't sure what it was about you that had him so intrigued but he was. Maybe it was your stubborn streak, maybe it was the fact that you needed his help now more than ever, or maybe it was because you were just a normal woman. Normal in the best way. You were real while all the other women he had were high maintenance. No matter what it was, he wanted to kiss you, he wanted to protect you, you make you his. Although he could never give you love, because he vowed never to fall in love, he could give you physical and material pleasures. That would be enough right?

"Ahem.." a voice came from the door way causing both of you to jump back away from each other with shocked faces. Your eyes fell to the door and the intruder that just interrupted your intimate moment. He was a young man with dyed blonde hair, he had an almost angelic like appearance but the way his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the wooden door frame, made him seem much more darker. "Am I interrupting anything?" He asked with a chuckle.

"No." Yoongi said cooly as he smoothed out his suit coat. "What are you doing here Jimin?" So this was Jimin, the I.T. guy.

Jimin shrugged causally and pushed himself off the door frame. "I heard Miss Y/L/N was in the building and since you neglected to bring her to the IT department I decided to come find you." Jimin then turned and looked at you, bowing his head. "I'm Jimin and if you don't mind, miss, may I see your phone? I need to install some software that will allow you to access door codes in case you misplace your keycard."

Yoongi glanced between you and Jimin before butting into the conversation. "Its a simple installation, it'll take maybe three minutes. He can do it while you shower."

You watched between Jimin and Yoongi as they explained the installation and slowly nodded your head. Normally you'd be up in arms about someone installing a strange program on your phone, but you had read something about this in the contract. The fine print. "Uh, sure." You reached into your pants pocket and pulled out your small phone, handing it over to Jimin. You saw his brow raise as he looked down on the old outdated phone. "I'm sorry, I know it's not the newest model." Your face flushed from embarrassment, your eyes falling helplessly to the ground.

"It's fine," Yoongi spoke up, sensing your embarrassment. He wrapped a protective arm around you, much like he did in the car, and pressed a light kiss to your temple. A simple action that made your stomach do cartwheels. "Besides, Jimin, we can upgrade her phone for her cant we?"

"Oh no, you dont have too..." You started but Jimin was quick to cut you off.

"Of course, I have several company phones that aren't being used. I can transfer the data no problem." He nodded quickly before rushing out of the room, your small phone still in his grasp.

"W-Wait! My phone works just fine." You called after Jimin, Yoongi just let out a breathy chuckle and held you a little bit tighter.

"Consider this your first gift from me, Babygirl." He grinned before pulling himself away from you. "Now, shower and put on this shirt, Tae will be here shortly. I'll probably be gone by the time you get out. I have a meeting but I'll see you I a few hours. Here..." He paused while pulling his wallet from his suit pocket. He fished out a silver credit card and thrust it into your hand. "Use this to buy you something pretty to wear. Tae will try to put you in something flashy but only buy what makes you feel beautiful." He smiled at your shocked expression as you looked down at the credit card, noticing it had your name on the front.

"Its in my name?" You asked in shock.

"Of course. That way you can use it anywhere. I have a budget set up for you, Eleven K a week. Is that enough?"

Your jaw might as well hit the marble floor at his words. Your eyes so wide they might just pop out. "Eleven thousand dollars a week?!"

"Is that not enough for you? You greedy thing." He huffed, clearly teasing you, his eyes were dancing in amusement as he watched your shocked expression.

"No! It's too much! There's no way I could spend that much money in a week."

Chuckling, he reached up to stroke your cheek affectionately, "Babygirl, that was a low ball budget. I was gonna up it each month if you stayed on after a week."

"That's....that's crazy, Yoongi. Eleven thousand is...that's a lot of money!"

"Is it? I wouldn't know." He shrugged off your comment as if it was nothing before pulling back. "I have to go, have fun shopping and I'll see you back here tonight. I have a fun evening planned." With that he turned around and sauntered right out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

As you stood there still in shock, eyeballing the credit card, you quickly dropped it to the dresser top as if it had burned your hand. You weren't sure how women could spend that much money a week and still sleep at night. It was ridiculous!

Shaking your head you quickly rushed into the bathroom and began looking around. It was massive and beautiful like the rest of this flat. There was a large jacuzzi tub that was clearly made for two people up against the wall, it was facing a large glass window that looked over the entire city. You suddenly felt exposed just thinking about shedding your clothes in this open space with such a large window that over looked the whole bathroom. Luckily since the sun was out, it was near impossible for anyone to see in so that out your mind at ease.

Down from the tub, you saw a large glass shower with a bench in it. The showerhead was large and hung right over the middle of the shower and was large enough it would still get you even if you sat on the bench. You scoffed noticing it was also built for two people. Clearly Yoongi liked having people close even in the shower, despite what he said about sex being far and in between.

You noticed the shower was stocked with not only his products but products for women, expensive products that you had seen in stores but never dared to buy.

Taking a shaky breath you walked towards the shower, reaching in to turn the large stainless steel knob. Your hand fell under the water falling and you smiled feeling the water warm up as it fell. You wasted no time in stripping off your uniform and jumping in the shower. You were desperate to get the dried on wine off your skin and out of your hair.

You took a deep breath as the water ran through your hair and down your body, you could faintly smell Yoongi's shower products lingering from his shower this morning. The smell oddly soothed you and unable to stop yourself you reached for his shampoo, not the one for women. A part of you didnt want to use a product that another women left behind and truth be told, his scent relaxed you. So if you were going shopping with Kim Taehyung, you wanted to feel as relaxed as possible

Your shower took much longer than you anticipated so now you were rushing to get ready, you slipped on the button down shirt, Yoongi gave you and slipped back on your pants from work. You quickly towel dried your hair before venturing out into the living area of the flat to see if Jimin was still there with your phone.

As you turned the corner, you saw Jimin sitting on the sofa, typing away on his laptop. You just stood there awkwardly not wanting to interrupt him. The look on his face made it clear he was busy, so busy you thought he didnt even see you enter the room, at least until his soft voice spoke up and startled you. "I'm finished with your phone, miss." He called not even glancing up.

You jumped and nodded, making your way over to the love seat across from the couch. "You can call me Y/N if you like. Miss seems too formal." You muttered sitting on the edge of the couch.

Jimin chuckled and glanced up over the top of his computer towards you. "It's just a habit. Normally the women Yoongi dates are so uptight that they get offended if you call their name."

Your nose crinkled in disgust at the thought of someone getting mad about not being referred to as Miss. "Well I'm not that kind of girl."

"Clearly." Jimin muttered before closing his laptop and glancing up at you. "You're not the kind of girl Yoongi goes for, I was kinda shocked when I saw you for the first time." He confessed, a look of dread washing over you at his words. Did he mean that as a compliment or an insult? He was quick to speak again when he saw the look of worry on your face. "That's a good thing though. I think someone different is what Yoongi needs in his life. Just be careful with him." His cheerful expression quickly turned to a serious one.

"What do you mean?" You asked with an arched brow.

"Yoongi is a very private person, but he's also very passionate. His work is his passion. He's had fall out with his former girl friends that wanted to be first in his life, not second or third."

"I dont want to come between him or his work. Truth be told I dont even know why I'm here. I dont fit in with this lifestyle and I feel like im constantly in shock with how extravagant his life seems to be. I dont fit in here so I don't know why he wants me." You muttered, yours eyes drifting down to your hands as they fiddled nervously in your lap.

Jimin smiled watching you, "I think it's because you dont fit in that makes him want you. What's the saying? We're all looking for something different from what we have? My old mentor used to tell me that when I'd start looking for new jobs or jump from date to date. Maybe that's why he's taking a chance on you? You're that something different he needs? Plus Namjoon gave you a thumbs up. He never gives anyone a thumbs up so feel special." Jimin shrugged as the doors to the flat opened up behind the both of you. Jimin leaned forward and tossed a newer Samsung Galaxy phone into your hands. "There's your new company phone. All your numbers and photos have been transferred over. I've put my number in there too so if you have any questions call. Namjoon's number is in there as per his request. Taehyung's number is in there as per Yoongi's request. I heard you already met Hobi so his number was added just in case of emergencies. The doctor Yoongi wants you to see is added in there. You'll need to call him tonight and set up an appointment, his name is Jin. Plus, this number is important, if you're ever in trouble and need someone to help you, like if someone is following you, or you feel threatened, call the number named Jungkook. He's Yoongi's personal bodyguard and after today with Caroline, Yoongi wanted to make sure you were safe and had access to protection." Jimin explained in a quick breath.

The sudden blast of information made your head spin! So many new numbers, you just hoped you could remember them all. "Jin for appointment, Jungkook for protection. Got it." You muttered, clutching the phone as if it were precious, to your chest.

"Jiminie-ah!!!!" A deep voice called out from the door. You spun around to see a very smiley man you automatically knew as Kim Taehyung come bouncing happily into the room and tossed his arms around Jimin from behind.

Jimin let it a grunt and began to desperately try go wiggle away from the younger man. "Let me go!" He whined, crawling his away towards the other end of the couch.

"But I've missed you!' Taehyung chuckled before releasing Jimin suddenly, causing the blonde haired male to jerk forward. "Anyway I heard you boring our new friend with your phone crap. I had to rescue her." Taehyung smirked over at you, causing you to giggle.

"Crap?! This is important business!" Jimin huffed angrily and he stood ho and grabbed up his lap top.

"Blah blah," Taehyung mocked him playfully before getting up and making his way over to you, bowing slightly. "I'm Kim Taehyung and Yoongi said you'd be my shopping buddy for the day? I heard you also like Gucci?"

You stood up and returned his bow politely. "I'm L/N, Y/F/N. I'm glad to meet you, um...yes I do like Gucci but I've never been to a Gucci store before."

Taehyung gasped as if you had just publicly offended him. "Well then. That will be our first stop." Tae grinned before offering you his arm which you hesitated before taking. "Jimin, I'm stealing your friend. I have orders to take her shopping."

Jimin muttered under his breath before giving a wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah...bye!"

You smiled at the playfulness between Taehyung and Jimin but you also couldn't help but bubble with excitement at the thought of finally getting to see your favorite brand of clothing up close! Especially with a famous fashion designer like Kim Taehyung! Maybe being a sugarbaby wasn't gonna be so bad?

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #sugadaddy fic #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts suga x reader

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mrsjihyunkim · 6 years

Text

🌹Flowers & Ink🌹 Ch 9

For some reason Ao3 is broken and won’t let me post there. So here’s the full chapter. So I just put the rest of the chapter under a cut. I’ll try adding it again to Ao3 tomorrow. Enjoy!

The next morning MC woke up with V passed out right beside her. She smiled at his sleeping figure and decided to get up and make some breakfast. Last night V had told her that he liked pancakes but hadn't had them in years. She successfully slipped out of her room only to find Jaehee in the kitchen. "Good morning Jaehee. I figured you wouldn't be here so early. Didn't you stay the night at Saeran's?" MC raised an eyebrow and Jaehee blushed.

"I did but I figured I'd stop by and make sure that you were ok. Saeran said that you pulled an all nighter to finish orders. I didn't realize you had company though." Now MC was blushing as Jaehee sipped her coffee.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." MC decided to play dumb as she pulled the pancake mix out of the cabinet. When she turned around Jaehee was hold up a pair of black lacy underwear.

"Well I found these wedged between the couch. And they certainly aren't mine. So the next question is who did you take them off for?" MC's face was red and Jaehee was happy.

"Can't a girl please herself without being outed?" Thinking that Jaehee would let it go MC turned back to the pancakes.

"Yeah I thought that too until I found these." MC turned and saw her holding up a condom wrapper and V's boxers. "I know for a fact that neither of these belong to Saeran. MC ran forward and tried to take the evidence out of her hands, but Jaehee was too fast. "Just tell me his name. Is he still here? Cause I could go look in your room if you'd rather." Jaehee began to leave the kitchen but MC blocked the door.

"His name is Jihyun and it was a one time thing." It wasn't a total lie but MC was still petty about Jaehee keeping her relationship a secret. Not to mention her and V still had a lot of things to figure out. "I met him yesterday while I was doing some shopping. We had dinner and one thing lead to another. He left after he thought I fell asleep." Jaehee was disappointed with the story but didn't think she was lying. However she was happy to see MC finally trying to date.

"Well alright then. I thought perhaps it was V or Saeyoung." MC's eyes went wide and she laughed.

"Why on Earth would you think that?" Jaehee just shrugged and went back to her coffee.

"Well Saeran said that V was in the shop this morning and you both looked tired. And lately Saeyoung has been disappearing after getting texts. We assume he has a secret girlfriend." MC forgot how sharp both her and Saeran were. If she wasn't more careful then her relationship wouldn't be secret for much longer. "So when did you start randomly sleeping with guys?" MC shrugged and didn't really know what to say. The more questions Jaehee asked the worse MC felt about lying.

"Since that night at the bar. I hooked up with someone and liked how it felt so I kept doing it." Again not a total lie. She was just making it sound like more than one person. Jaehee felt guilty suddenly knowing the truth and MC noticed. "Hey it's not your fault. I'm really happy for you and Saeran. If anything you guys gave me the push I needed." This did in fact made Jaehee feel better and she hugged MC.

"I really do hope you find happiness MC. I have to go to work now but I'll probably come back here with Saeran if that's ok." MC smiled at her and nodded.

"Of course. I think I might go out with Zen tonight though so if I'm not here don't wait up." Jaehee nodded and turned to leave. Once MC was sure that she was gone did she relax. Getting flustered so early in the morning just made her want to go back to bed. Leaving the pancake mix where it was MC headed back to the bedroom. V was still on her bed and she was glad to see him sleeping. She tried her best to slip in bed unnoticed but V groaned and pulled her close to him.

"And where were you little lady?" His voice was drowsy and sharp. V nuzzled into her back as if to spread his drowsiness.

"I was going to make us breakfast but Jaehee bombarded me with questions. Now I'm just tired again." A low chuckle vibrated from V's chest and he buried his face in her hair.

"I don't need breakfast. Just stay here with me." MC smiled to herself. The only time V really expressed wanting her was when he was sleepy or during sex.

"As you wish." Was all she said before falling back asleep. When she woke up the room was dim and V wasn't next to her. MC looked around and found him standing by the door. "Jihyun come back to bed." He turned around and smiled at her.

"How can I resist such a sweet offer?" He walked over to the bed and dove on top of her. She couldn't help but laugh as he rolled her on top of him. His fingers grazing over her ticklish spots.

"What were you doing anyway?" She laid on his chest tracing his tattoo. He hummed against her touch and had to think about it.

"I was looking for my phone and was about to go check around the couch. However now that you're awake I don't need it. I also thought I heard someone else in the apartment." My eyes shot open and I looked at V in panic. "It's ok I was just hearing things. Unless Jaehee got off work early." I relaxed a little once I saw how sure he was.

"That does remind me though. I don't think Jaehee is staying at Saerans tonight, so we should probably stay at your place." V's eyes stayed closed but he nodded. MC looked at the clock on her nightstand and saw that it was already three. She moved to get up but V held her down. "V it's three in the afternoon. I need to at least put some clothes on and possibly shower." V hummed at the last part and grabbed her ass.

"I can get behind that last part. As long as I joined you that is." MC laughed a little and kissed one of the flowers on his chest.

"And what if I said no?" Your voice and full of teasing and V picked up on it. He opened his eyes and smiled.

"Funny I don't remember giving you a choice little lady." Any retort she had was stopped by the pure look of desire in his eyes. MC had always read stories about men undressing women with their eyes but she never imagined it would be so intense. Even though she was already half naked his eyes seemed to be searching her. She tried not to think about it but she could feel her cheeks heat up and knew it was too late. "Are we having pervy thoughts again little lady?" The blush on her cheeks darkened and V felt satisfied. No one had ever responded to him this way. In public MC seemed so strong and he'd never seen her bend to anyones words. So to make her so flustered made him feel special. It made him want to push his luck. Feel too flustered MC wiggled her way out of V's arms and went over to her closet. V only smiled after her and was behind her in an instant. "I'll take that as a yes. Why don't you tell me what you're thinking? I want to be able to satisfy your fantasies." His breath tickled her ear and neck. V put his hands on her hips and spun her around so he could look at her.

"God you're such an ass." MC put her arms around V's neck and played with his hair. He only shrugged and kissed her. The kiss was hungry and full of love. MC could feel her knees shaking and a moan was trapped in her throat. V's kisses always had a way of making her crave more and this one was just as good. When V pulled away MC didn't even try to hide her pout. She let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. She got over to the door and took her shirt off. When she looked back at V his cheeks were pink and she smiled. "Well if you're coming with me then come on." She slipped out the door and V didn't hesitate to follow her. When he caught up with her in the bathroom she already had the shower running and was taking off her undergarments. Her hands glided over her smooth skin and V wanted to replace them with his hands. MC could feel V's eyes on her but she pretended not to notice. If he was going to tease her she'd return the favor. Before stepping into the shower she looked back at V. "Oh my dear Jihyun. Don't tell me you've suddenly become shy." Her lips formed a pout but there was a fire in her eyes. As she disappeared behind the shower door V discarded his own pants and climbed in behind her. MC felt V behind her and smiled. His hands found her hips and he pulled her close to him. A small gasp came from her and V pressed into her tighter. She expected his hands to begin teasing her but instead V just held her. It was a nice surprise but she couldn't help but wonder what happened. "Is everything ok?" The water was the only answer she got until V sighed.

"I just," His sentence fell flat as if overpowered by the sound of the shower. The air between them had shifted and MC could tell that he was trying to sort out his feelings. Very slowly MC turned around in his arms so that she could wrap her arms around his waist. V watched her and smiled. She was beyond patient with him and it soothed his anxiety. "You make me feel so many things all at once. Feelings that I never thought I'd feel again, and they seem stronger than I've ever known. It makes me both anxious and happy." Now that he had started there was no stopping his words. He let them all out as if trying to wash them down the drain. "The more time I spend with you, the more I want to make this work, but I'm so anxious that I'll mess it up. I still feel like the most undeserving person of you but I want to believe that I am deserving." MC met his eyes and saw a flash of pain across them. He gave her a sad smile and ran a finger over her cheek. "It's ok. Weather or not I think I'm deserving I still love you. So you don't have to convince me that I am. I am me and I'm in love with you." It was the first time V had actually said that he loved her. V noticed the surprise on her face and worried that he said something wrong. Before he could apologize MC stretched up and kissed him.

"I love you too Jihyun. The fact that you feel that way and were able to tell me makes me beyond happy. I never thought I'd ever be so happy with another person. Everyday I find new things that I love about you and I want to know more." She paused and V gave her time just like she gave him. After trying to put the words together MC began to feel dizzy. She rested against V and murmured against his chest. "We should get out of here before I pass out." V barely heard her but he noticed that she was acting a little sluggish. Keeping an arm around her waist, he reached behind her to turn off the water. She shivered when the outside air hit them but it was a nice relief. "Thanks. I usually don't take such long showers. I felt like I was about to pass out." MC handed V a towel and he wrapped it around his waist. After she had her towel on she noticed that V was still just watching her as if he expected her to say more. "That's also why I stopped talking. I still had more to say, in case you were wondering." V stayed silent and MC began to feel awkward. "I just didn't want you to think I don't understand your feelings, because I do, I just don't handle heat very well." Seeing that she was rambling again V walked over and softly kissed her. When he pulled back she had a look of confusion and V smiled.

"It's alright. We have time remember? Now let's get dressed and we can finish this over at my place." He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. Seeing V be so patient with her almost made her want to cry. MC had never felt so loved by anyone other than her Grandma and Zen. She looked up at V and smiled.

"Alright deal, but you're not going near the stove. I'll make pancakes." V's eyes lit up but his face tried to stay stoic, as he shrugged.

"Whatever you want little lady." V turned around so he could smile. His composure was always so flexed around her but he didn't want her to know that. It didn't take long for them to get dressed and MC had grabbed the pancake mix. Neither one had been over there since V's cooking mishap. When he opened the door it still smelled like smoke and he heard MC cough a little. "Sorry. I didn't think the smell would still be so strong. I think I have candles or something, hold on." He began looking around and MC just headed to the kitchen. She looked in the cabinets and found some vanilla extract. After putting some in a cup to sit in the oven she started on the pancakes.

"Don't worry about it. I took care of it." V stopped looking and followed her voice to the kitchen. As soon as he walked in he noticed the sweet smell. "How did you?" He looked around for a candle or something and MC just laughed.

"Ancient kitchen hack." She opened the oven door and V looked in. "I put some vanilla in a bowl and am heating it up. Basically a homemade air freshener." She pulled the bowl out of the stove and placed it on the counter. "Now it at least doesn't smell like smoke." She gave V a teasing smile and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm never going to live that down am I?" MC shook her head and smiled. She began looking for a pan and got it out for her. "Do you need any help?" She walked over and gave him a light kiss.

"Nah. I just needed the pan. There's only two of us so they won't take too long to make." MC frowned after realizing they still needed. "Do you syrup by chance?" V didn't even have to check. He barely had basic groceries so he knew there was no syrup.

"Sorry doll. I was surprised you actually found some vanilla." MC sighed and seemed to be thinking. "Do you have some at your place?" She nodded and V held out his hand. "Give me your keys and I'll go get it." MC was hesitant but pulled her keys out of her pocket.

"It's in the cabinet above the stove. There's also a bottle of wine on the counter if you wanted to grab that for later." V nodded at her and kissed her cheek before leaving. It felt weird being in each others apartments alone but it almost gave them a chance to really see each others aesthetics. V's apartment was a blend of modern and cozy. The colors were muted, mostly greys and blacks, which gave it a very clean look. MC's apartment on the other hand had more space and always seemed a little messy. There were lots of plants over by the window and various frames hung on the wall. V easily found the syrup and the wine and headed back over to his apartment. He opened the door and found MC pulling plates out of his cabinet. "You're back just in time. Thank you for getting the syrup." Her smile was so sweet and genuine that V nearly stopped working. The idea of her greeting him like this everyday suddenly plagued his mind as he walked over to her. He leaned down and planted a kiss on her. MC was caught off guard but didn't fight it. His lips were soft and gentle against her. It wasn't a kiss of desire but a kiss full of warm, kind, affection. When V pulled away MC was almost dazed. "What was that all about?" V only chuckled and picked up a plate of pancakes.

"I love you that's why." V didn't see it but her cheeks heated up at his words and MC smiled. As she followed after him with her own pancakes she couldn't get over how happy those words made her. She never thought those words could ever make her so happy.

"I love you too." Even saying it felt good, and watching V's cheeks dust pink made her feel so satisfied. They ate for a bit but MC couldn't really tell what V thought of them. "So how are they?" She asked when they were about half way done eating.

"They're good. Kinda remind me of the ones my mom used to make for me." MC perked up at this. V rarely talked about his past and she really wanted to hear it. "I can't even remember the last time I talked to her. Then again she hasn't tried to contact me either." His face looked sad as he poked his pancakes with his fork.

"Maybe she's scared to." V looked at MC in surprise and she instantly regretted her words. "I mean I don't want to assume anything. You just seem to miss her which makes me think you just drifted apart. If that's the case then she's probably like you and just too scared to make the first move." To keep herself from rambling MC put a bite of pancake in her mouth looked at her plate. V only chuckled a little and then moved to put his plate in the sink.

"You're probably right. Hell with all the changes I'm going through I'll probably get the balls to write her soon enough." He looked back to MC and saw that she was almost studying him as if trying to understand what he meant. "Sorry that sounded weird. Don't worry about it little lady. Are you finished?" He pointed to her plate and she nodded. V picked it up and put it in the sink with his. He then grabbed her hand and began pulling towards the back of the apartment. "I want to show you something." They stopped at a door and V felt the to of it's frame for the key. "I've never shown this to anyone. Not even my ex." MC was nervous now but also excited.

"It's not a weird sex room is it?" V rolled his eyes and stepped away from the door.

"If you're just going to tease me then maybe I don't need to show you." He started to walk away and MC grabbed his arm.

"Ok ok I'm sorry. Please show me what's behind the door." She pulled him back over to the door and pouted her lips. "I promise not to tease you anymore." V smiled at her and pinned to the wall next to the door. Her cheeks blushed at the sudden change as she rested a hand on his chest.

"I'll be holding you to that doll." Suddenly his teasing demeanor faulted and MC could see how nervous he was. V was trying to be open with her so of course he was nervous. She slide her hands up his chest and put them around his neck.

"Whatever you want to show me will not change how I feel about you. I can guarantee that. I want to know everything about you, so please show me." As soon as she said that V reached over and opened the door beside them. He stepped back so that MC could look inside. There were a couple of easels and a table that was covered with paper. Once she was all the way in she saw various paints and other art supplies on shelves. "Is this like your studio?" Her voice was filled with awe as she walked around. MC stopped at the table and saw the it was covered with drawings of flowers, various backgrounds, and even some of her. "Are these drawings of me?" V heard the surprise in her voice which made him uneasy. He stood next to her and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah. Since that night we got stuck in the elevator I kept getting this urge to draw you. At first it was annoying because it was unlike me. I never draw people. Then it sorta became soothing to do when you weren't around." V looked at the drawings with her and sighed. "Vanderwood is right though. Not a single one does you justice, and as an artist that's incredibly frustrating." MC frowned at his words and looked back to the drawings. They were all so fluid and she couldn't find a single flaw in any of them. If she had never seen herself she would assume that they were drawings of a model.

"I think they do me too much justice. I mean they're all so gorgeous. There's no way this is what I look like, is it?" V slowly turned her head away from the drawings so that she was looking at him.

"It's not. You're more beautiful than any canvas or paper can hold. Even memories are nothing compared to you actually standing before me. I could probably try until I die, but I'd never make anything as beautiful as your physical self." There was so much conviction in his words that MC was completely flustered. Her eyes darted to the floor and she began fidget with hair.

"I highly doubt that. You're too amazing of an artist to not do that." In her embarrassment MC saw a photograph sitting in the corner. There was a sheet over it, but it had fallen, and she could see part of a woman's face. "What's that one over there?" She pointed to the picture and V tensed up. MC went over to it and pulled the sheet down. It was a blonde woman, with green eyes, laying on a bed in a nightgown. The woman looked so afraid and as if she had been crying. It was a beautiful and heartbreaking imagine but something about it made MC feel insecure. "Jihyun, who is this?" V felt the shift in the air but didn't know what to do. There wasn't really a better answer than the truth, so that's what he went with.

"That's Rika. My ex fiance." His answer only gave MC more questions, but she knew she had to tread carefully. "Does it bother you?" His question only made her more tense. She knew that it shouldn't bother her but for some reason I did.

"No not at all. Why would it bother me that my boyfriend has a huge, and very vulnerable photo of his ex." She didn't want to think that he had it for emotional reasons, but she was unsure what to think. Tired of looking at the photo MC turned around to face V. She hoped for any kind of clue from him but he was as stoic as always. "Why do you still have it? Do you still have feelings for her or something?" V wasn't sure if it was her question or the calm, coldness in her voice, but he realized that he had no answer for her. Time seemed to stop as she waited for him to answer, and the longer he took the more insecure MC grew.

"I don't know." It was far from the answer she expected and she didn't know what to do with it.

"What do you mean by that? You left her at the altar for cheating but you don't know why you kept the picture? You love me but you don't know if you still have feelings for her?" MC knew she was probably overreacting but the fact that V couldn't even give her reassurance was too much. Not able to stand it anymore MC walked past him and headed for the door. V didn't move to stop her until she had already left the room. He pulled her back from the door and held on to her.

"Please don't leave MC." The fact that he had actually stopped her from leaving almost made her want to stay, but if he didn't have an answer she couldn't stay. "At least tell me what you're thinking." His voice was so desperate and it only made her more confused.

"I'm thinking that you need to find an answer to my question. I love you but I need to know that you only love me. All I'm asking for is reassurance. So until you can do that I'm going to go and process all of this. Call me when you're ready to talk. I love you." With that she slipped out his arms and went out the door. V was beyond shook by everything that had just happened and the first thing he felt was the anger. He knew what the answer to her question was but he couldn't figure out why he didn't say it. Not sure what to do with any of his emotions he went into the studio and let it all out. Not ten minutes after the rain started to pour.

#mystic messenger #flowers & ink #v x mc #technical difficulties #my writing #jaehee kang #f&i #really mad that I can't post on ao3 #too tired for this shit #enjoy the cliffhanger #mrsjihyunkim #my writiting #fanfiction #jihyun kim

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