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notjustjavierpena · 7 months

Note

Oops, I accidentally sent the request before actually typing it, lol

Here we go again:

The family is away for summer vacation and reader bumps into an old high school boyfriend of hers at the beach while Javi is playing with the kids (making an adorable mess with sand castles), and he sees it at some distance and get super jealous about it, but only get to talk to her about it after dinner when the kids are asleep in their hotel room. Idk, something about that with obviously make up sex for reader to show him how much she’s all his and etc

Random thoughts, I know, but I’m sure you’ll be able to work magic with this

Sand

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Hi hi hi, and so sorry for the wait. I hope this fulfils your heart’s desires, my friend. Thank you for following my work ❤️

Summary: You bump into your high school sweetheart on holiday and Javier is not a fan.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, jealousy, javi is whipped for reader, dirty talk, piv sex, rough sex, bit of roleplay, creampie, use of papi, possessiveness, aren’t they just the cutest?

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51262198

Sand

Children’s laughter travels through the air to meet your ears along with the sound of a soft summer breeze, making you put down the book that you’ve been holding in your hands. It’s impossibly sunny hence why you’ve decided to hold up the book, shielding its pages from the rays, and the skin of your back glistens with sweat. There are seagulls in the air, busy noises from families around you, and the therapeutic push and pull of the waves.

Beside you, you have a glass of strawberry lemonade and in front of you, you have a view of your husband enthusiastically digging moats around the various sandcastles that have been scattered across your chosen spot on the beach. You feel refreshed and relaxed; just how you’re supposed to feel on your vacation during the hottest days of summer.

It had been Javier’s idea to go away for a week to your hometown. You are thankful for his suggestion because you would never have voiced your wish for a break out loud yet he had sensed it despite your silence.

You’ve visited your parents, yes, but the majority of days have been spent on the beach where you’ve gotten some quality time with yourself. Javier has managed to tire out both of your kids with endless activities, and the evenings have been filled with long, slow kisses on the hotel room balcony. You have hoped for more but a shared hotel room means that you will have to keep everything PG-13.

“Look, Mommy!”

Your thoughts are interrupted by Inés’ excited shout. She has placed seashells on the biggest of the sandcastles’ walls, making them imitate grand windows.

“They’re beautiful, baby,” you praise adoringly.

Lucas is by the shore with a bucket, filling it with water for the moats. He beams at you when he returns, and you smile right back at your beautiful boy.

“Remind Papá to take a picture of you when you’re finished,” you say loudly for Javier to hear as well. He looks back at you, grinning with genuine joy and happiness but you’re too busy staring at his happy trail just above the hem of his bathing shorts. He notices.

“What’re you looking at?” He winks.

“Nothing,” you say back and shoo him, holding up your book for show, “Go keep an eye on your offspring, Dad. I’m very busy.”

The day continues. You manage to go through a few more chapters, occasionally watching Javier over the top of your book as he is enjoying himself.

And then it is late afternoon but the sun is nowhere near descending yet. You are interrupted in your reading by a shadow above you, and you don’t manage to catch yourself as you automatically tell Javier off, “Honey. You’re standing right in front of the great big reading lamp in the sky.”

The shadow laughs and then you realize it isn’t your husband. You look up to stare at a familiar face anyhow, and your face grows hot. With quick motions, you put your book down and push yourself to stand.

“Jonathan!” You exclaim in what you hope is a calm and collected voice. You know it is a possibility, being in your hometown, that you run into your high school ex-boyfriend but it still catches you off guard.

“You mean ‘honey’ right?” Jonathan jokes. You laugh politely and awkwardly, and despite the ring on his finger, Jonathan doesn’t seem to back down. He hugs you, splaying his large palm on your back - right under where your bikini top sits.

Afterward, he gives you a once over with his eyes, and out of the corner of your eye, you spot Javier glancing in your direction.

“God, you look well,” Jonathan continues, “Still in Laredo?”

“Still in Laredo,” you confirm, curling your toes into the warm sand. Jonathan looks almost exactly the same; blond, wide-eyed, and pale. He still sports a t-shirt with a print of a ‘70s band logo on the front that you remember him buying when it was cool.

You realize that you haven’t done anything to make conversation, quickly adding, “And you? You haven’t aged a day.”

“Never escaped, teachin’ at our old school,” he shrugs. He eyes Inés and Lucas but only briefly, turning back to you when he realizes that you are here with a man too. Javier is throwing daggers his way but for once, he has no intention of interrupting which is fair since he would have to leave his children unattended for the time it took to play macho.

“Course you are,” you smile genuinely. It suits him perfectly to be one of the people who keep the cycle of the quiet town alive, even if it is by simply replacing your old teachers, “And the ring? I couldn’t help but notice that we’re both married.”

Jonathan tells you briefly about his wife and kids. You don’t actually care, but he lights up as he speaks about his two daughters and that’s the most important thing in this whole conversation. He has a dreamy look in his eyes as he finishes, “And to think we thought it would be us.”

By instinct, you reach out to touch his arm and then you giggle softly because the image of the two of you getting old together is absurd. You have everything you need in Javier Peña… Who is fuming without you noticing.

You hug Jonathan goodbye and the rest of the afternoon is suspiciously quiet.

Inés and Lucas fall asleep quickly, exhausted from the amount of fresh air they’ve breathed in today. Outside the sky is turning rose-colored from the evening catching up on you; the sunset will be long and beautiful. But you don’t want beauty with how much tension is between the two of you.

You are brushing your teeth side-by-side in the hotel bathroom. It’s been a tight-lipped dinner. You honestly just want to go to sleep so you can start over tomorrow.

Javier finishes brushing his teeth first. He waits for you, looking like someone who is contemplating whether to say something or not.

You finish brushing your own teeth just as he finally makes a decision, off-handedly throwing a remark at you.

“You sure were friendly with Jonathan earlier,” he says simply.

You let out a long sigh, stepping away from the sink after putting away your toothbrush, “Jesus, Javi, I knew this would happen.”

“What?” He leans against the sink.

“You don’t have to act like a fucking… I don’t know. It is every damn time a guy even looks at me - and it’s just not very attractive,” you are exhausted.

“Excuse me for liking you to myself,” he looks away, “I like having you alone.”

You decide on something at that moment.

“You already have me. Don’t you know?” You ask in a voice close to a purr. Javier raises a brow in annoyance, but you don’t give in to a fight so easily. Instead, you go to close and lock the bathroom door.

“Know what?” He asks impatiently.

“That you’re the only one?” You watch him standing against the sink counter. He doesn’t look as annoyed after those words but he still isn’t overly impressed with your actions earlier. There’s no way that he doesn’t know what clicking the lock means though. If only he knew the power you have over him, the power that you’re soon to make a display of.

You cross the room to stand in front of him. You tilt your chin upwards to look up at his face but his eyes stray from yours the second you catch them. He can get so pissy sometimes, a part of the game, but you’ll take the challenge especially when you haven’t had his cock inside of you for a week. At this point, your core aches for him.

Gently, you put two fingers under his chin and pull it down towards his chest so he is forced to look at you. Your smile is sweet as honey, “Thoughts of you keep me up all night sometimes. Hot and bothered, legs barely knowing what to do.”

There’s a pause where you can only hear his breathing matching yours. His pupils have blown wider, signaling desire for you.

“What do you think of?” He finally gives in.

“I think about all the ways you turn me on,” you tap his chin but then let your hand go down. It skims down his bare chest and over each ripple of muscle that quivers with each touch.

“Yeah?” He murmurs. His eyes flick down between the two of you for less than a second when your hand hovers over his happy trail. The second you catch him doing it, your own eyes follow suit. It’s too hot to wear his usual pajama bottoms, so it’s so easy to spot that he is hard already, showing off the outline of his dick in his gray briefs. There’s a stain of precome.

“Yeah, baby,” you don’t even hesitate, reaching down to palm the length of him. His breath hitches in his throat the second he is touched, and your voice lowers to a whisper, “All I do is fantasize about you. The way you kiss, the way you touch me, and mmm, the way you fuck me.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly in the way men do when they don’t really know what to say during their current state of mind. You have him scatterbrained with your touch, a moan falling from his lips and replacing the hum when you snake your hand into his underwear, wrapping your fingers around his cock to stroke him lazily.

“You like this?” You ask but don’t give him time to answer since you tighten your fist around his girth. He forces a nod and you lean up to kiss his lips teasingly soft, “You really think I would ever touch another man like this? There’s no way. No comparison to how you look when I do it.”

“Go on and I might forgive the eyes you were sending him,” he tells you with a hint of edge in his voice. He sounds more desperate than confident, more wanting than he might want to let on. It fills you with self-satisfaction because you know that what you are saying about him goes for you too; you’ve ruined everyone else for each other.

“I told you I was doing no such thing,” you reply. He pulses in your hand, precome sliding down over your knuckles when you make your fist a tighter fit, reminding him of what waits between your legs. You go a little faster, and Javier’s breathing speeds up.

“Liar,” he challenges raggedly.

“As if he could ever make me come as hard as you,” you egg him on, patiently waiting for him to lose control with you, “There’s only you, Papí.”

That seems to do something. Javier yanks your hand away, and you know the strength behind the action because he breathes the same way that he breathes when teetering on the edge of release. He has stopped himself but it’s only to enter your personal space more than you even thought possible.

He grabs at your hips almost violently, steers you backwards a few paces so he can flip the positions. Now, you are the one against the sink counter and it gnaws painfully into the small of your back. There’s an air of consideration for a moment as he checks in on you during the beginning of what can be regarded as playing with each other. You give him a dirty look, a small nod and he smirks back.

“Javi,” you mumble in fake confusion, reaching up to put your hands on his chest but you don’t get to do much because one of Javier’s hands comes up to catch one wrist after the other. It’s so easy for him to do, both because of his job and his physical superiority.

He twists your hands behind your back and roughly shoves you down over the sink. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “You’re not gonna wake up anyone, are we clear?”

“We’re clear,” you promise, finding his eyes in the mirror. If he touches you now, he’ll find you wetter than you have been in a long while. What is it about holidays and hotel rooms? Mixed with not having been able to touch each other since you have arrived here, it is a dangerous combination.

“Te deseo mucho, amor,” he says softly and out of character.

“I love you,” you reply.

He dives back into the scenario. His other hand tugs at your cotton shorts, dragging them over the curve of your ass and down your long legs. You step out of them as soon as they lay around your feet.

“I’m gonna let go,” he says and shakes your hands in his grip to indicate what he is talking about, “But only so you can cover your mouth for me and I can get out of these fucking underpants.”

He does as he said he would. You move to prop yourself up on your elbows, neck already having strained from the mere moments you’ve had to feel the cold porcelain against your chest.

Behind you, there’s shuffling. You cover your mouth as he enters you swiftly, jerking forward at the intrusion that has you panting damply into your palm. He fills you to the brim, stretches your cunt as only he can, and then he fucks you - hard, rough, and fast.

Your head spins, your knees bang against the cabinet’s front, and you try to strain the muscles in your legs so they don’t. He knows the ticking bomb that is your children sleeping soundly in the room next door, but he cannot help himself as he drives into you. He leans over you.

“No one but me,” he growls lowly, “This little cunt belongs to no one else. She gets red and puffy for me, no? Filled up with only my come.”

“Sí,” you practically sing out but then quickly cover your mouth. He gets rougher with you then, each snap of his hips a reminder of how only he can make you feel like this. He is getting exactly what he wants, and he has you a moaning mess soon after.

Your first orgasm tears through you after a rough pounding of your g-spot, sending shockwaves down your spine to burn at the base and throwing your upper body forward with such a force that you nearly lose touch with the floor, standing only on your toes as you clamp rhythmically down on Javier’s cock.

“That’s it,” he praises quietly, not relenting, “You can do one more, can’t you? Gotta remind you who makes you feel this good.”

You nod through sobs. More, more, more.

Suddenly, he leaves you empty. The feeling has you on edge, makes you look at him over your shoulder because gaining eye contact in the mirror is somehow not good enough for the look of betrayal you want to give him. He takes a step back from you whilst panting frantically, gesturing to you by drawing a circle in the air, “Turn around.”

You straighten without thinking and flip around, so you are positioned as you were at the beginning of this. He seizes your hips, hands going down your thighs to grab at them and lift you up onto the edge of the counter.

Your hand clasps around the back of his neck. He lifts your legs up to settle them around his waist, and then he guides himself back into you and continues fucking you with a force that has you lifting your free hand up behind you to brace yourself against the mirror.

“Javi,” you whimper repeatedly, clutching at the curls at the base of his skull. He had wanted to cut it before summer came, but you are so glad that he did not.

“Shh,” he soothes your growing cries and you know that he’ll make you come again soon, “Be quiet for me, baby.”

You don’t think he is quiet enough himself to demand such a thing from you. His stamina has always impressed you, but it’s the sound of his breaths that tears your own from your chest. Alongside the hungry eyes that bore into you, you don’t think that it’ll take long for this to reach its peak for both of you.

“I can’t,” you stutter a little more high-pitched than you intended.

“You have to,” he says with a hint of sternness but he cannot keep it up. Especially not, when he has to take the consequences of reaching down between your legs to thumb at your clit.

You come so fast that you don’t even have time to warn him, and you cry. So loudly that he needs to kiss you to swallow the sound of you reaching your second, over-sensitive high.

You throw your arms around him as he chases his own peak, whimpering at the hard thrusts he is giving you to reach his end. You hear him let out a drawn-out fuuuck as he spills inside of you. He pulses, settling deep inside you. He kisses you lazily.

Everything goes quiet except for your shared breathing. You want to say something to finish the argument that almost never took place but a knock is heard on the locked bathroom door.

You freeze. Javier pulls out of you. The bathroom counter is a mess.

“Mommy?” Inés’ little voice sounds anxious. You figure that it’s far from nice to find your parents’ bed empty on holiday.

“Just a second,” you say with a weak voice.

“We’ll be right there, mí vida,” Javier says as well.

“What are you doing? Why is Mommy crying?” You hear her ask and Javier’s face twists in surprise for a moment before he starts laughing, burying his head in your neck as he holds you close. You slap his shoulder.

“I’m not crying, baby,” you reassure. With a glare that’s anything but actually angry, you push Javier away from you to get cleaned up.

“I have to pee,” Inés continues with a hesitant tone to her voice.

Javier kisses you one last time, and you draw it out for a few more seconds than you have time for. It’s still romantic despite you holding a hotel towel between your legs.

“One moment, mija,” Javier says and gets dressed in his briefs. He waits for you to dress too.

When you walk towards the door, he smacks your ass and you whip around to slap his hand away. There’s a grin on your face though, “Dog.”

“Go to bed, I’ll take her,” he just says.

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httpjungkookcom · 2 years

Text

Please Don’t Go | JJK

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 12K

Genre | Spider-Man! Jungkook x Childhood Best Friend! Reader

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you.

Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.

A/N | Something kind of different than what I normally write, but I’m excited about it nonetheless!! It’s sad, cute, exciting, nerve wracking, etc. I also just love the concept of Spider Kook more than I can even explain.

All throughout your childhood years, you constantly swore that you could never truly hate Jungkook. The both of you grew up together, lived in the same apartment building with guardians that knew each other. You were always over at his apartment for annual holiday parties, or play dates (which you’re pretty sure was just babysitting because your parents worked so much.) Even in school, you both gravitated towards each other due to matching intelligence and thought processes. You can't recall a single school project that you’ve done without being partners with Jungkook, or at least in the same group. Sure, you two would play fight, argue, bicker back and forth about stupid things, or wrestle, but never truly get to a point where you hated one another. However, as you sit in class on the first day of class after break, you’re fuming. You swore you could never hate him in your entire lifetime, but right now, it’s pretty damn close. You can't think of a time where you’ve been this angry at Jungkook, face red as you fight off the urge to interrogate him to hell and back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice calls softly from beside you, almost in a whisper as class begins. You don’t even answer him, simply glancing over before returning to stare down your syllabus as you struggle to control your thoughts. You genuinely can’t understand how he disappeared all summer without a single text, call, letter, email, anything before showing back up like nothing happened. Even when you went to his aunt's apartment to check up on him (he went back home for break), she simply told you Oh, he didn't tell you? He went on a summer trip, I don't remember all the details. Before sheepishly closing the door in your face. Jungkook never keeps anything from you, you’ve told each other almost everything, that’s just what best friends do. You honestly can’t help but feel hurt that he wouldn’t think to tell you about his 2 and a ½ month summer trip before leaving. “Are you mad at me…why are you mad at me?”

“You disappeared all summer!” You mumbled, promptly being stared down by the professor and the few people around you. Finally looking at him dead on, you can’t help but notice that he looks almost completely different. It seems like he’s grown over the summer, both in muscle and height. The stupid science pun shirt that he used to wear religiously is fighting for its life, stitches straining around his bicep. If he flexed his arm, they would most likely bust apart. His hair is also much longer, dark brown locks being tucked behind his ears as he breaks eye contact with you, red face going back to his syllabus. “Why does it look like you’ve been eating steroids for breakfast and working out 24/7 during the past month? Seriously Kook, what is going on? You can’t just leave and not say anything before suddenly showing back up in the fall semester?”

Now it’s his turn to take glances at you, mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggles to answer your questions. As you wait, his face only gets increasingly red as he stumbles for an answer. He's been dying to tell you everything, truly, but he’s just not allowed to. It’s not exactly a rule put in place, but he was warned extensively of the danger that comes with sharing his secret. If you were ever hurt or in danger because of him, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself. He definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t able to save you. “I just, I can't tell you. Definitely not here, not now.”

“Okay? So after school? Come over, I got lucky and my roommate isn’t gonna be home for a couple of months to study abroad.” You can feel your anger subsiding now as you talk to him normally, as if he didn’t disappear over the summer. Having him explain his disappearance while also hanging out for the afternoon almost feels like an instant relief to your summer long headache. “Also, we should see if the coffee shop still makes those sandwiches, like the little slider ones! We can stop by before we go to my-“

“Uhm…I can’t hang out after class today.” Jungkook states, almost so quietly you couldn’t hear him. He can already tell what you’re going to ask next, sinking down in his seat as if that will avoid your wrath. He feels horrible as you ask your next and final question for the day, stomach immediately dropping.

“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. You can't remember any clubs that he’s in that take place on this day, nor any other school events. Maybe an orientation of some sort that you didn’t see on the announcements? Maybe he has a doctor appointment?

“….I can’t tell you.” You're mad again.

You ignore him for the rest of the morning class, promptly shoving your notebook into your bag when the professor ends class. As you prepare to walk to your next class, you want to scream as you realize Jungkook has an almost identical schedule to you. Curse the both of you for having the same major. Jungkook follows your routine, quickly packing before exiting the lecture room, also going to the same exact math. “Listen, I want to tell you! Really, I do! It’s just I can’t.” He tries to explain without giving too many details that would compromise his identity, especially in the middle of the campus. “I've been dying to talk to you all summer, I've really missed you, you know?” He pleads his case.

“Kook, just leave me alone for now. Summer sucked because you just disappeared off the face of the Earth, and suddenly you’re just back like nothing happened. You didn’t even text me!” You mumble, sighing at nothing in particular as you finish your sulking. “I just need time to get over your sudden secret-ness from me.” A part of you wants to turn around and laugh with him, but you just can’t. It’s genuinely something that’s been bothering you and for some reason you just can’t get over it. Class goes by relatively uneventfully, the two of you barely talking. You soon come to realize that, without yours and Kook’s endless bantering, the day goes by extremely slowly.

The day ends and much to your surprise, Jungkook is almost sprinting out to the parking lot as soon as your final class wraps up. You have nothing in you to catch up and follow him, simply walking to the coffee shop by yourself. This truly does suck more than you thought it would.

While you and Jungkook were in the middle of a fight, you can’t help but become concerned as he slowly stops attending classes. He's barely ever in physical class anymore, maybe attending one day out of the entire week. Honestly, you’re unsure how he’s even still enrolled in the courses. Despite not attending often, you come to find out that he’s still enrolled, teachers constantly calling his name for attendance and getting silence instead. He's even dropped out of his clubs, which is even more concerning. Putting all of your pride aside, you decide to stop by his dorm after class today. You’re pretty sure he mentioned having a single room this year, no longer having a roommate for a bit.

Knocking on the door hard, you only hear silence in the room. There’s not the slightest shuffles that would indicate someone getting up and walking over to answer. You don’t even hear anything playing, nothing but silence and the faint conversation of other students down the hall. “Kook, if you’re in there, I’m not mad at you. Can we please just talk for a bit? I’m worried about you.” You explain, fidgeting with your fingers as you stand in front of his door. “If you don’t wanna talk, just text me? Please, Kook.” Another period of silence passes before you’re leaving with your head down.

Hi Aunt Yoon, did Kook happen to visit home? I haven't seen him a bit.

Uhm, yes actually! He’s here right now.

Great! I’ll stop by, be there in a bit.

Next stop is his childhood apartment to check up on him. Aunt Yoon is quick to open the door on the first knock, a bright smile plastered across her face as she welcomes you into the apartment. It's the exact same as always, pictures plastered across all of the walls with little to no walk space left due to furniture. It's cozy.

“Hi Aunt Yoon! I wanted to check up on Kook, I haven't seen him in a bit.” You smile, scratching the back of your neck as you stand in the middle of the walk way. She stares back at you for a few moments, not saying anything.

“Uhm, he’s not here. He just left actually, right after…you texted me. Do you want a sandwich while you wait for him?” She smiles, going to the fridge to pull out one of the pre-wrapped sandwiches you and Kook always used to share when you were young. You quickly take it and thank her before realizing what she said exactly.

You’re all types of confused now, never knowing Jungkook to be someone that seems to actively avoid seeing you. He's always come whenever you called, studied and hung around your apartment before heading home. You’re the same for him, the both of you being there whenever the other needed it. “He’s not…avoiding me? Is he?” You can feel your eyes begin to water. “He just hasn’t been coming to class recently after I got onto him. …I feel bad.”

“Oh no! No honey, it’s not like that. He just had something to do, that’s all.” Standing in the same exact spot, you observe Aunt Yoon, nervously rubbing and cracking her knuckles repeatedly. You raise an eyebrow at the behavior, pointing to her hands questioningly. “Oh, uhm. Kook told me about the little fight you guys are having, that’s all.”

“It's just, it’s not even a fight. I'm just confused and he can’t explain anything to me.” You sigh, frustrated. “Do you mind if I wait here for him? I can go to his room if you’d like your space out here.” You mumble, slowly shuffling down the hall towards his room. Since you’ve been friends for so long, it’s not awkward being in his room so you have no problem just waiting around for him. You jump back as Aunt Yoon quickly cuts you off, slamming both palms on either side of the hallway walls. The confusion just doesn’t stop growing. You raise your eyebrows, lamely clasping the sandwich in front of you as you step back towards the living room. “Okay, uhm. Or I guess I can just wait out here for him.” You feel incredibly stupid as you plop down on the sofa, getting comfortable as you wait for him.

Aunt Yoon is a nervous wreck, but she’s trying (and failing) to not show it to anyone. She almost died on the spot when Jungkook told her his secret, half voluntarily and the other half was a result of being caught with his mask in hand. She wanted to scream, cry, hold Jungkook in her arms, and scold him all at once. After a very lengthy talk at the dinner table, both of them sitting on opposite ends (awkward), she finally decided to let him continue his superhero side job. Despite her reluctance, she trusts Kook and made him promise he would try his best to be safe. Well, as safe as you can be when fighting criminals on the street. Aunt Yoon understands why you’re mad at Jungkook, but understands that it’s not her place to tell you. After making sure you sit down, she makes a beeline for his room, staring at the old spider suits that are currently laid out on the floor. Secretly, she pats herself on the back for her quick thinking, regardless of how messy the save was.

“Uhm, Aunt Yoon? Do you know when Kook is coming home?“ You ask from the couch, feeling as if you weren’t allowed to move away from it without being ushered back. Your sandwich is still wrapped on your lap, feeling too awkward to open it. Silence fills the room once again as Aunt Yoon fights for an appropriate answer that’s not too alarming.

“Uhm, usually around 11 these days. He’s been really busy recently.” She smiles, twirling her hair as a nervous habit as she soothes her anxiety. You quickly conclude that if you ask doing what, or why he gets home so late, you won’t get an answer. If anything, Aunt Yoon might have a nervous breakdown if you question her any further, so you decide to leave it. You nod at the answer, directing your attention to the sandwich that remains untouched. While Aunt Yoon is acting weird, she makes sure you’re comfortable in the living room before heading back to whatever she was doing before you showed up. Turning on the tv, getting you a drink, handing you a throw blanket for the couch. You settle in for the long wait, laying down and watching whatever plays on the tv.

SPIDER-MAN SHOWS UP ONCE AGAIN TO SAVE THE DAY!!

SPIDER MENACE IS ONCE AGAIN TERRORIZING CITIZENS OF SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA!!

SPIDER-MAN IS A NEWLY FOUND HERO!

ONCE AGAIN, UNKNOWN HERO REFUSES TO REVEAL IDENTITY.

You quickly click away from the news channels. Truthfully, you have no opinion on the new hero that seems to be taking the entire country by storm. You’ve never had any interaction with him so far, so you genuinely haven’t been able to gauge who he is without the influence of biased news outlets. All you know is that there’s even a club for him at your university, the students all competing to get the best Spidey photo. Surprisingly, you drift off to sleep without realizing.

You startle awake, heading a chorus of groans and crashing coming from down the hall. It doesn’t sound like Aunt Yoon, meaning Jungkook must’ve just gotten home. Weird, you didn’t hear the front door unlock and open. “Kook?” You call out, rubbing your eyes before making your way down the hall. Still half asleep, you knock on his childhood bedroom door. “Jungkook, is that you? Can we talk?” His door slowly opens, revealing a very disheveled and tired looking Jungkook. Seeing him for the first time in what feels like months is off putting, making you stumble over yourself for words that properly explain what you're trying to convey. “Uhm, hey. You uh, stopped showing up to classes and I got worried. And I went to your dorm and uhm, no one was there, heh. And dropped out of your clubs, and got home really late…” you're definitely rambling now. “I guess I wanted to check up on you to make sure you’re alright.”

Jungkook is at a loss for words. “No, yeah, I'm alright! I've just been really busy with stuff outside of school. Personal stuff. Uhm, how have you been!?” He’s trying to desperately change the subject, flashing his signature bunny smile as his last card. It almost works, almost, until you spot the cut he’s currently sporting across his brow.

“Kook…what is going on?” You mumble, reaching out to hold his head before he has a chance to back away from you. You catch it just in time, pushing his hair back that he was using to hide it. It’s a deep cut, blood soaking his hair and brow. It’s threatening to drip into his eye, making you quickly wipe it with your finger. Not showing up to class, coming home late, getting injured after coming home? You’re more confused than ever, stomach dropping to your feet as you can only think of the worst. “Are you street fighting?” You mumble, grabbing tissues as you wipe some of the blood away.

“No! No, of course not!” He pulls your wrists away, giving his brow one hard wipe before throwing away the tissues. Seeing you so worried about him makes his stomach lurch, threatening to spill every single secret that he’s kept from you so far. “Shouldn’t you be getting home? It’s almost midnight and everything.” He smiles, once again changing the subject.

“You're kicking me out now. Please Kook, I’m not mad at you anymore, I'm worried about you. And the more I try to find out what’s going on the more and more I'm worried!” You're fighting back tears now, trying increasingly hard to keep your resolve in front of him. “Even Aunt Yoon is acting weird! Acting like I'm some stranger that you guys have never met before. Blocked me off from going into your room like I was some stranger, did her nervous hair twirling and knuckle cracking, and didn't know what to say when I talked to her. Now you, disappearing from everything with barely any explanation! Never being at the university and coming home all beaten up! I didn’t even hear you come in through the front door which is weird, you always make so much noise.” You ramble, becoming more frustrated as Jungkook can only stare at you wide eyed. His heart is beating erratically in his ears, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in a hug and explain everything to you. He hasn’t seen you this upset in years, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, letting his head drop as he avoids making eye contact. “I wish I could tell you. Here, you can sleepover tonight and tomorrow we’ll both drive back up to the university-”

“Just tell me! Whatever it is there’s no way it can be that bad, we’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Kook….please. Don’t make me worry like this.” Tears are slowly streaming down your face, voice wavering with every word you speak. Your lips threaten to let out sobs in between each word, fighting them back to keep your resolve and tone. Regardless, your resolve isn’t enough to get Jungkook to tell you anything. He continues to avoid eye contact as he talks once again.

“Y/n, please. Let’s just go to sleep.”

Your stomach falls to your feet, heart feeling as if it were about to jump out of your throat. In a flurry, you can only say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I hate you Jungkook.”

The hurt is evident all across his face, shoulders slightly flinching from your cold statement. He's completely unprepared, staring back at you like a deer caught in a car's headlights. He's never heard you say those words with any true meaning, only jokingly a couple of times. Hearing them makes his heart beat increase, hands instinctively reaching out to pull you towards him. As he gently grabs your shoulders, you jerk out of his grasp and back up towards the door.

You can't take it anymore, spinning fast on your heels and almost running out of the apartment. A part of you wants to scream at Jungkook, the other cries into his arms as he comforts you. You decide that neither one is appropriate and going to your car to cry is likely your best option. Ignoring him as he follows you out, mumbling excuses to the best of his ability, you make it out of his apartment in record time. It feels like you’ve just lost Jungkook entirely, sobs wracking your entire body as you shuffle through the building stairwells. You could help him, you’re sure of it, if he would just let you. You’ve never not been there when he’s struggled in the past, and seeing him block you out feels like betrayal. You’re defeated entirely as the cool night air envelops you, continuing your pity party late into the night.

After maybe three hours, the rational part of your brain forces you out of the driver seat of your car and back up to Jungkook’s apartment. You’re about to knock when it’s ripped open, causing you to flinch away. “God, Kook!” You mumble, eyes wide as you stare at him. “You scared the shit out of me! Listen, I won’t ask about it anymore tonight. I’ll leave it alone.”

“C'mon, let’s go to sleep Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, pulling you underneath his arm and into the apartment. He easily leads you to his room, handing you clothes to change into. You want to continue arguing with him, but you just can’t. You change in the apartment's small bathroom, tired body shuffling into his bed. “You need to cry?” Jungkook chuckles softly as he takes his place next to you, pulling your body close to his chest.

"...Yeah." Jungkook knows you extremely well, and now is not any different. He comforts you in one of the only ways he knows how, which is physical affection. It's always been a staple of Jungkook's personality, his love language being physical touch once he's comfortable being around you. Your face is shoved into the soft cotton of some stupid science shirt, tears soon to be stained into it. "Kook, why were you still awake?"

"Just thinking about things, couldn't fall asleep." That makes you cry, Jungkook letting out a small chuckle at you before wrapping you tighter in his arms. He makes sure you're comfortable, yanking the blankets over the both of you and making sure you have at least one pillow. You bury your face into his shirt, allowing yourself to get everything out (as much as possible without snot dripping everywhere.) Jungkook comfortingly rubs your back every now and then while playing with and stroking your hair. "It's alright, Y/n. I understand why you're upset."

"It’s okay Kook, we don't have to talk about it." You state, voice muffled by his chest. "I’m sorry for keeping you awake, and being a bitch to you in class." Over the course of the night, your positions swap as you take Jungkook in your arms. While he won't explicitly say it, you know he needs it just as bad as you do. Holding him, the both of you fall asleep like that.

You're not sure what time it is when you wake up, quickly realizing what tore you out of your sleep. In your arms, Jungkook is visibly strained, face scrunched together as he jostles slightly in your hold. You quickly realize that it's not going to go away as he continues to become more distressed. "Kook, Jungkook wake up." You begin to shake him lightly, hoping he'll just wake up without much trouble. It takes much more effort to actually pull him out of his sleep, his head jerking as you shake him awake by his shoulders.

He wakes up with a start, his eyes shooting open as he lurches into a seated position. He’s breathing extremely hard, almost panting as he scans around the room widely. "Hey, hey, Kook. It's okay, it was just a dream. you're okay, you're safe." His attention is quickly turned to you, eyes still wide as he takes in your presence.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt?" He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing ahold of your arm hard, not allowing you to jerk away. Carefully, as if his dream were real, he turns it over as if he were looking for an injury.

"Yes, I'm fine, Jungkook. It was just a dream, a nightmare." You mumble, opening your arms and beckoning for him to lay back down. Slowly, as if you were lying to him, he finally lays back down with you. Whatever he dreamed about has him shook up deep into his bones, his arms holding you as close as he possibly could.

Waking up is no easier, feeling just as shitty as you did last night but now even more tired. Your eyes are red and puffy, lips chapped from crying throughout the night. Despite driving back to the university together, Jungkook avoids you like the plague for the entire week. He sits as far away from you as he can without making it obvious. He makes sure to leave the lecture halls immediately after the bell rings so there’s no chance you two will be stuck awkwardly walking next to each other. You’re beyond frustrated and sad from them on, slowly becoming strangers with Jungkook. You two never thought this would happen.

Genuine misery wracks your entire body as you walk through the nightlife of Seoul, streets busy as people start their weekend early on Friday night. Your shoulders brush every now and then with strangers, which you’re quick to usher apologies to avoid any confrontation. A particularly harsh brush sends you down, falling flat on your ass as you groan in pain. Immediately, pain shoots up your hands and into your wrists, absorbing your fall. It feels as though your tailbone has been broken as you pathetically muster your strength to stand up straight. “You should really watch where you’re going!” You don’t make eye contact, simply rolling your eyes at the angry citizen.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You mumble, immediately being caught by the wrist at the end of your statement. Panic begins to flow throughout your entire body, heart rate speeding up so much you can almost hear it. “Let go of me.” While you try to sound confident, your voice comes out frail as you stare at the man in front of you. Your legs feel as though they’ve gone numb, every sense in your body telling you to get out of there. “I said, let go!” You muster up a bit more courage as you try to pull your arm away to no avail. This proves to be counterproductive as the man easily catches your other arm in his grasp. Tears well in your eyes as you finally get a clear look at the man, nothing short of a stereotypical petty criminal. Your skin crawls as he eyes you up and down, stopping to think.

“Just for that comment, you owe me your wallet.” He grins, making your stomach flip in circles. Is your wallet really worth getting the shit beat out of you? No, no it’s not. But as your ears ring with the sound of your heart beat, not a single coherent thought is happening in your head right now. Involuntarily, you scream as he pulls you closer, making some sort of attempt to pat down your pockets for your wallet. You can’t help but continue to scream, trashing in his hold as he searches your body, copping cheat feels wherever he can. Tears stream down your face, mind going into overdrive as it uses the last bit of intelligence to kick your attacker in his dick.

Immediately, his hands are off of you and he hunches over. Taking the opportunity, you make a break for it, getting just around the street corner before he’s taking off after you. “Man…c’mon.” Is the only thing you hear before the footsteps stop, instead the silence is filled with the man’s complaints. I wasn't even doing anything, we were just messing around, get your webs off of me, you have no right to do this, I'm suing you for misconduct, I'll kill you as soon as I get free! “Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?” There’s a faint sound of webs being strung, causing you to slowly make your way over to the complaint train. “And just like that…another one for the cops.” The man is incredibly satisfied with his web building ability, taking one final measure as he shoots a glob over the attacker's mouth, finally silencing him.

“…Spider-Man?” For some reason, you’re incredibly surprised despite him being all over the news for months now. While you’ve heard everyone talking about him, you’ve never actually seen him in person, never caring to track him down. His suit is much darker than what it looks like in the pictures, making you wonder if it’s the lighting or if he's had a costume update. With the entire suit, you can’t tell any sort of distinguishable features besides the fact that he’s ripped in almost every aspect. The only other feature that you’re able to pick up on right away is his extremely young sounding voice. “Uhm, thank you. For uh, webbing him to the wall?” The disheveled looking man is definitely cocooned to the wall, completely defeated as he waits for the cops to show up.

“Oh, it’s no problem! It’s what I do, your-“ He’s ready to deliver his famous, personally selected, catchphrase. He’s even gone to the extent of placing his hands on his hips, getting ready to puff out his chest and stand tall as he speaks.

“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, yeah, yeah, we know.” An outside voice chimes in, making you burst into laughter. His chest immediately falls and his posture falls a bit, hands going to point at the said heckler that ruined his moment.

“Hey, that wasn’t very nice!” The spider in front of you calls out, which just makes you laugh more. He's standing up straight now, but has no real intention of going after the grumpy eavesdropper. Without even trying, he’s funny.

“If you really want, you can do your little saying. I'll listen to it.” You giggle, seeing him place his hands back on his hips as he recovers from his workout that stringing the man up turned out to be. He looks incredibly boyish as he stands in thought for a brief moment, almost snapping back into reality as he remembers the situation. Doing a quick double take, he glances back at the man before looking at you once again, before taking another small glance over his shoulder to ensure your attacker is still on the wall.

“Uhm, do you mind if I use your phone? Gotta call the police, and uhm, my suit doesn’t have any pockets?” To add credibility to his claim, he’s running his hands along the suit to show you. After his display, he’s already walking towards you before you answer, taking your phone with a quick thanks before calling the police. He talks for maybe 1 minute max, the conversation being a chorus of “Hello, yes, Spider-Man, yes, 97th street, yes, ok, thanks.” After hanging up and handing your phone back, he seemingly kicks in his inspirational it’s gonna be ok, speech. “How are you feeling? I know that might’ve been a little scary for you, especially the whole, uhm, searching…your body.'' It's incredibly awkward as he tries to find a way to take back what he just said, gesturing to the air.

“You’re not very good at this, I think you should stick to webbing criminals.” You laugh softly, tone joking as you tease him. He seems embarrassed, more than likely flushed entirely pink underneath his mask. “Thanks for saving the citizens of Seoul once again, Spidey.” You giggle as you begin the walk home, quickly making the decision to take the well lit sidewalks. It’ll likely take 10 minutes longer, but you tell yourself that the 10 minutes will be worth it to avoid another almost mugging encounter.

“Uhm, if you want, can I give you a lift home?” Spider-Man offers, jogging to catch up to you. The visual of Spider-Man running on foot to meet up with you is humorous for no reason. “Just so you get home safe! And you don’t have to worry about guys like him!” He covers as you eye him questioningly. After a little more teasing, you accept his offer. “Okay, so just stand next to me, ok, ok. And I'm going to hold you like this, is this ok for you?” You genuinely laugh as he hesitantly places his arm around your waist, nodding your head yes. “Alright, and you can hold around my neck, yeah, like that. Okay, so when we take off, you can either leave your legs like that, or wrap them, uh…around my waist. On the side! Like a toddler sits on someone’s hip, you know?” He’s genuinely trying to not make the situation in any way sexual or uncomfortable, but the constant explanations and stumbling is doing the opposite of his intended effect.

“Yes, Spider-Man. I know what you mean. This won’t affect your webs or swinging, right?” If he’s holding you, that means he can only swing with one arm which is slightly concerning. “Like with only one arm, because if there's a chance I can fall, I'd rather walk all the way back home?”

“Yeah! I'm a pro at swinging, you have no idea. Ready? I’ll show you.” Without even waiting for a response, he effortlessly shoots a web that sends the both of you flying up. After shifting down several inches as the both of you swung downwards, you quickly concluded that you were going to death grip Spider-Man's waist as he swung the both of you. It’s almost like a rollercoaster, that’s extremely high, and has no seat belts or safety procedures. Your adrenaline is pumping throughout your entire body, stomach rising and falling with each swing. To him, it seems like he’s on a leisurely walk in the park, nowhere near as fast as he normally swings when he’s in an emergency.

“Can these things go any faster?” You laugh, pointing to the web shooters on his wrists. Glancing over at you, you’re sure he made a face behind the mask.

“Faster?” You can almost hear him scoff as he questions you. You can’t help but laugh, nodding your head. “If you insist, climb onto my back.” While he’s swinging? He wants you to maneuver around him while he’s swinging 200 feet in the air? “Like a piggy back ride, don’t think about it too much. You can do it.” He slowly lets go of your waist, moving his arm forward so that you can easily slide onto his back. Every single survival instinct is screaming at you not to move, to which you ignore.

“So now what?” You mumble. He has both of his arms in front of him, body (mostly) unrestricted to swing to maximum momentum. You quickly conclude that this is a horrible idea as he bends and extends his body to increase his speed.

“We go faster.” He laughs at you, using both arms to sling himself as fast as possible. While he may seem like an absolute idiot when talking, the way he’s calculating every single move to maximize his distance, is astonishing to you. No move that he does is for nothing (besides the safety checks for you). It's an extremely energy and time efficient way of moving. In record time, you’re at the front of your dorm complex. “And….we’re here.” He smiles as he stands on the ground, easily holding your legs that remain locked around him. While you know he’s standing on solid ground, your legs remain in place as your brain fights to convince yourself it’s safe to get down.

“Ok, let me just get down.” Your legs feel like jelly as they touch the ground, threatening to give out under your weight. “Thanks for the lift, I owe you some ramen next time, yeah?” You smile, shakily walking into your apartment building.

“Hopefully there isn’t a next time!!” He calls out, and with that, he shoots off to go help another poor soul.

Maybe it was the adrenaline from your attacker, or from Spider-Man, or the pure survival instincts kicking in during the ride, but as you lay down in bed, a realization washes over you. You never even told Spider-Man where you were going to…

Ever since that day, you almost unconsciously find yourself wandering around alone. To be honest, you weren’t looking for trouble and had no intention of getting into any that may become a safety risk. However, a part of your subconscious wants nothing more than to run into the red and blue masked superhero that roams the streets. So maybe…just maybe, if trouble comes your way it won’t be the end of the world. Your feet shuffle as you walk, every now and then kicking a rock along the sidewalk.

“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think you’re looking for trouble…” A voice calls out from above you, instantly causing a giant smile to spread across your face. Glancing up, it’s the same masked boy that you’ve been wandering the streets to catch even a glimpse of. Despite having his mask on, it looks like the fabric is smiling down at you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think I have a little spider stalker following me.” Your smile is almost uncontrollable as he comes down, walking down the street with you. “Plus, I still owe you that ramen right?” You look incredibly ridiculous as the both of you walk into the restaurant, standing awkwardly as the staff whisper back and forth to each other. Spider-Man has got his signature, I’m a superhero, pose going on that it almost makes you laugh at him.

“What, what’s so funny, why are you giggling?” He’s leaning over slightly, trying to whisper to you as you continue to fight off your urge to laugh. “Are you laughing at me??”

“No, no.” You can't even look over at him, because you know the moment you do you’ll burst into laughter. Subtly, you begin to get into the same exact pose as him to see if anyone notices. This includes, placing your hands on your hips, widening your stance to about shoulder width, and standing perfectly straight with your chest puffed out. Even now, you’re still fighting back laughter as the staff continue to take glances at the two of you. “Do I look familiar?” You whisper, watching as he slowly turns around to look at you fully. As he analyzes, you can’t help but begin to laugh.

“Hm…no. Not really?”

“I'm you!”

“What!? That’s not how I stand!”

“This is exactly how you stand!”

“I do not look like that.”

“We could literally be twins right now, just give me your mask.” You laugh, finally dropping the pose as your ramen comes out. “You know, I really can’t tell if you’re smiling under your mask. So if you are straight faced this entire time, this is awkward.” You laugh, walking out of the restaurant with a bag of takeout. You both decide where to eat, sitting down with the bag in between you.

And by “you both decide where to eat,” Spider-Man immediately proposes that you go to a rooftop. He easily takes you to one of the tallest buildings, your stomach churning as your feet touch the roof and you immediately sit down where you two landed. “This is fun, but we should go by the ledge. We can see the entire city from up here.” He’s more than excited, easily walking over to the side and sitting down, feet hanging. You’re distraught as he webs the bag, yanking it over to him with no effort at all. Pathetically, you crawl over to the edge and make some sort of attempt to sit in the same manner he is. “Uh, if you want, I can web you…not like restraints. But like a seatbelt.”

“Actually…I would like that a lot. Please do.” You nod your head up and down, lifting your arms to allow him to secure your lap to the building. If the both of you can swing from skyscraper to skyscraper with these webs, you at least know they’ll hold you in place. He easily humors you once again without trying, pulling the mask to just above the tip of his nose to allow him to eat the noodles he’s picked up. “You know, if I knew who you were, I'd be able to tell from just this part of your face. So hiding your eyes isn’t exactly foolproof.” You laugh, quickly looking at his lips and half exposed cheeks. Your stomach flips as you quickly change to subject. “You know the city is a lot more safe with you around.”

“Yeah? I’m really glad to hear that.” He smiles, and you wonder if he’s actually that dumb. Or maybe he thinks you’re dumb and won’t put 2 and 2 together. “Everyone used to hate me, you know?” He laughs, shaking his head as he continues to eat. You don’t say anything, knowing that he’s going to continue once he’s done. “Newspapers tore me up every single day, I think I headlined at least 6 out of 7 days a week.” He laughs, “I guess you could say I'm pretty famous.”

“Yeah, you definitely are famous. You’re so famous you’re becoming a tourist attraction.” You giggle, thinking about how you’re seen various people come to Seoul to see Spider-Man at work. You’re sure the state gets insane tourism money from it, along with the city already being a well known area. “Seoul’s one and only, web slinging hero, Spider-Man!” You laugh, announcing your made up head line in an overly enunciated and perfectly clear tone. He laughs at the lame joke, shoving the rest of the noodles in his mouth. “We should probably get going, Arachne. It’s getting late and I'm sure you’ll be busy as it gets later.”

He nods to your final statement, reaching over to your lap. “I'm gonna take these off, alright?” You nod, allowing him to easily rip through them. Almost cat-like, he easily stands up on the edge with perfect balance, reaching down and offering you stability as you climb to your feet. “Freaking out?” He laughs at you, watching as you screw your eyes shut and refuse to look down.

“Yes, yes. Let’s just swing, get going.” Spidey asks you if you want his side or back, to which you heavily weigh the benefits of both. Taking a small peek at the sheer height, you decide that the back is definitely a better option since you’re able to cling onto him tighter. “Are you just going…to jump down? And like free fall!?” You regret every decision you made that has led up to this moment.

“Yes, until I get closer to the ground.” He can already tell you’re about to back out entirely, most likely take the elevator all the way down. While he would still accompany you, he’d much rather not wait forever to descend the 50+ floors. “Listen, you can do this, ok? All you have to do is jump onto my back and hang on as tight as you want. You don’t even have to look, alright? Just close your eyes and we’ll be done in no more than a minute.”

He talks you into it, but not without feeling like you’re going to pass out. At least if you pass out, it’s with Spider-Man who is more than capable of pulling you back in order to catch you. “Ok, ok. This will be fine.” You persuade yourself, taking the smallest hop humanely possible and quickly situating yourself on his back. It feels like you’re falling faster than scientifically possible, hurtling towards the ground at an alarming speed.

You’re about 90% sure you’ve busted Spider-Man's ear drums at this point, shoving your face in the crook of his neck while screaming. Your arms and legs are locked tight around him, so much so you’re surprised you haven’t choked him out yet. (Which would be bad, because if you pass out he’ll save you. If he passes out, you’re both goners.) As he easily thrusts a wrist in the air and begins swinging close to the ground, your arms fly up to his head as you try to find a better hold.

“THIS IS THE WORST, I'M CALLING THE BUGLE LATER TODAY!!!” You scream, slamming your eyes shut as he narrowly avoids buildings. “I'M TELLING THEM YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!!”

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING!!” He screams back, trying to find his way through the lit up streets. “I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!!”

You’re completely unaware that you are, in fact, clasping your hands over his eyeballs.

You’ve never hated anything more, from the moment he allowed his body to fall off the side (back first, so you were closer to the ground) all the way to when your feet touched the floor at your dorm. “That was horrible, if you ever convince me to free fall again I’m going to throw up all down the back of your suit.” You vaguely threaten, slowly climbing off.

He laughs at you, standing in the same spot as he waits for you to safely make it inside. For some reason, leaving is different now. You’re torn as you stare at him, stomach flipping in uncertainty. “Hey…be safe, alright, people care about you.” You mumble, quickly going back for a hug. Most likely catching him off guard, it takes him a couple of moments to actually hug you back. It's a comfortable, extremely familiar hug. “Don’t do anything too stupid, now.” You laugh, pulling away and actually going into your apartment. Spider-Man says something along the lines of I’d never think of it before swinging away.

Walking past Jungkook’s hall, your feet instinctively pause in front of the doorway. You finally understand. You understand Kook being so secretive, you understand why Aunt Yoon was so nervous that day, cracking her knuckles at every opportunity and refusing to let you past the living room. As you settle in for the night, everything begins to make more sense. The confusion you’ve had for over a month is suddenly gone, your head eventually connecting every missing piece.

You’re unsure of what to do about the newfound information, but for now you relax feeling slightly relieved now that you’ve figured it out. Jungkook has been acting so strange lately because he’s been a completely different person, swinging around the city every night as the one and only Spider-Man.

You can’t help but giggle slightly thinking to yourself. Pulling your phone out from your backpack, your finger hovers over Jungkook's contact name. Without thinking, you edit the information and add a little spider next to it. You decided to send Jungkook a quick text. It doesn’t even register to you that you both truly haven’t spoken face to face in days now. You’re hesitant for a couple of seconds, the endearing Jungkook 💜🕷 contact name urging you to make a decision. Regardless, you still message him.

I almost killed spider man

What? No wayyyyy

Would you still be friends with me if I murdered the most well known superhero in town?

Absolutely not

…Well, do you think that one loud news guy would’ve paid me?

Jameson? Knowing that guy? He’d give you his first born child

Smiling softly to yourself, you finally allow yourself to drift off to sleep.

You’re woken up out of your sleep by loud pounding coming from your window, a series of coughs and grunts accompany the noise. In a panic, your body shoots out of bed, catching the smallest glimpse at the figure in your window. Just as you’re about to sprint out of the room, you catch a small flash of red and blue. Hesitantly, you walk over to get a better look. Sure enough, the web slinging hero is standing outside of your window. Confused, you begin to pull open the window. “What are you doing here?!” You whisper, glancing back to your door to make sure no ears are around. “It's almost 5 am!”

“I just…need your help.” He groans, climbing past you and into the room. As he stands on both feet, his body haphazardly falls to the ground, a loud crashing accompanying it. On the ground, he begins to cough and groan as he holds his body wherever he can.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Panic sets in even more as you drop to your knees, pulling his head into your lap as you fight to get a response from him. Extremely slowly, he nods his head.

“I just…got caught a few too many times. I just…need to rest, my body heals pretty fast.” He’s talking extremely slowly, mind seemingly not thinking as he attempts to explain what happened to him. You can barely follow along with the story, something about not seeing the blade before the fight ended. At the end of his explanation, he quickly adds But I totally won, don’t get me wrong. Webbed him up and came straight over. At the explanation, you fight tears back, looking anywhere else in your room but him.

“Hey, was this too far? Did I overstep our friendship?” He laughs softly, placing both of his palms on the ground before making an attempt to get up. You assume he was going to leave your room, refusing to let him do so. You easily hold him in place, the injured boy not having the energy to fight you.

“You really must think I’m stupid, Kook.” You laugh, tears beginning to fall which you quickly wipe away. “Like, really really stupid.”

“Kook? Who’s that?”

This only makes you laugh harder, his voice easily giving away his blown cover. He's surprised, to which he quickly tries to play it off and act cool. “Please…don't make this harder than it already is.” You begin to reach for the edge of his mask, wrists quickly being caught by his hands and immediately stopping you. As he grabs your hands, you only now realize the wounds he was covering, blood smearing onto you from his hands.

“You…you didn’t tell me he actually got you! I thought you said you were just tired and couldn’t swing anymore!” Tears immediately begin to fall down your face, body jumping up. “Stay here! I swear, if you disappear I'll come find you!” You’re almost full on sobbing now, sprinting to the bathroom to dig for your first aid kit. It’s slightly small and only has the basics, but you hope it’ll be enough to help him at least. “Change into this, please?” It’s a pair of shorts and a random t-shirt that he’s left behind from your guys countless sleepovers.

“I really shouldn’t, I just need to rest.”

You refuse to let him go that easy, insisting that he change. Trying his best to keep whatever secret he thinks he’s still hiding, he makes every excuse to dodge taking off his mask. Listen, I’m hideous underneath this mask! I have to conceal my identity, if you went and told people I'd be in a lot of trouble. Also, if you knew my identity, it could paint you as a target for criminals. Only 1 other person knows who I am, it’s critical for it to be top secret. You can't take off my mask, it’s a part of the suit. No! It doesn’t come off at the neck. No! Get away!

“Jungkook, stop.” He is trying to crawl away from you without getting any blood on the carpet, using his feet to push himself around on his back. “First, it was disappearing and not showing up to class anymore. Then coming home beat up every night. Then when you took me home after saving me, you didn’t even ask where we were going. You just slung your webs and took me to my dorm complex. And when I bought us ramen earlier, I saw your face. You think I would miss the scar on your cheek and freckle underneath your lip? And even tonight, you happen to come to my exact window and climb in, without even knowing me?”

“Uhm, it was just a lucky guess, the window bit.” He mumbles, having no other explanation for your other points. He knows he can’t win, finally defeated and his secret laid out on the table for you to judge.

“Please just change so I can clean your cuts, please.” He’s about to make another excuse, you can see his mouth opening, mumbling out a small My identity is top secret- before you’re cutting him off. Your heart is racing, sobs and tears streaming from you at a pretty steady rate. Your hands shake as you hold onto him, gripping the front of his suit in your fists. “I told you to be safe, Jungkook! I told you not to do anything stupid! You said you’d be safe tonight! You NEVER listen, and now you’re bleeding out on my floor, KOOK PLEASE.” Your hands shake as you hold onto his suit, eventually moving to pull him closer to you. Holding his injured body, you shake and sob as he slowly wraps his arms around you. Every now and then, you can feel him heave as he fights back the urge to cry into you.

Slowly, you release your death grip on him, almost afraid he’d disappear the second you let go. Making another attempt at his mask, he lets you this time.

“I'm really sorry for this.” He mumbles, a few small coughs following his statement. Your eyebrow raises, hands just barely grazing the fabric of the mask. Before you can even react, a web is wrapped around your wrist before being easily shot towards your bed. Without even having time to think, your body is yanked backwards by the momentum of the web. “I gotta go…”

“Jungkook, this isn’t funny. Take this off.” You state, yanking hard against it as you try to reach where his body lies on your floor. You can feel your bed slide a few inches forward as you try to get to him. “Kook, I'm serious this isn’t a joke. Take it off!” Horror crosses your face as he plants his hands down, using the last of his strength reservoir to push himself up. Slowly, he hobbled back towards the window before carefully climbing out onto the fire escape. From afar, you can see the red spots bleeding through this spandex.

“I'm really sorry, those will last about an hour.” He apologizes, limping over to the railing. “If anyone comes in to check on you, you can just hide them underneath your blankets. I'll see you around.”

“JUNGKOOK! DON'T!” You're full on screaming at this point, tears engraving their path down your face. You’re frustrated and scared, almost afraid he’ll go to jump off the side of the building and not be able to recover. “PLEASE! STAY! I'LL DO ANYTHING. DON'T GO OUT, YOU'RE TOO WEAK RIGHT NOW.” You're screaming from the top of your lungs, pulling so hard on the web it feels as if you’ll dislocate your shoulder. Your wrist is aching from the tension, which you ignore it all. “PLEASE STAY, PLEASE STAY. I'LL COME FIND YOU IF YOU GO! I WILL, I SWEAR I'LL COME AFTER YOU!”

Your bed is now displaced a considerable amount, sitting almost directly in the center of the room. Your wrist is red and strained, shoulder pulled taught and about to snap at any moment if you continue to fight it. You don’t have a couple of hours to wait for this web to dissolve, you have to get to him now. “KOOK! Please, just come here. Please, I'm begging you. You're too hurt right now, you have to stay with me. Please Jungkook, I'm scared! Please don’t go, don’t leave me here!”

At your pleas, his feet stop their movements. You can see his internal debate. “Y/n, you can’t tell a soul. I mean it, I really do!”

“Okay, okay, done. I won't say a single thing. Please just get down.” At your promise, he clumsily hops down from the railing, making his way over to you. “Please, just come here.” You open one arm that’s free, wrapping it around Jungkook's torso as soon as he’s in reach. You’re quick to yank him down to your level, wrapping your single free arm as much as possible around his body. A small chuckle leaves him before he’s ripping through the web that still retains you. “I was scared Kook, that scared me.” You mumble into his shoulder, pulling him as close as possible.

He lets you hold onto him, body almost laying across your lap as you hold his torso and head. “I was scared that if you jumped down from the building, you’d be too tired to shoot a web to hold yourself, or too tired to stick to the wall.”

“It scares me to hear you cry like that.” He mumbles, pulling back just slightly to place a hand on your cheek. Ignoring the wetness that you feel, both on your cheek and body, you smile into his hand.

“Please, let me clean the blood off you. And bandage them. You’ll bleed out.” You ask, “And let me take the mask off.”

He finally nods his permission. your fingertips easily find the edge where the two seams meet, wedging your thumbs underneath the mask and easily pulling it up and over his head. He looks worn out, eyes threatening to close as blood drips onto his face. He's sporting a few bruises mixed with a busted brow and lip, where he got hit particularly hard. His cheek looks bad, a pretty long cut prominent. There’s a few tear steaks, (whether they’re from pain or your small breakdown is unknown.)

“Here I am.” He says lazily, eyes closed as you hold his head in your hands.

“Jungkook, you have to stay awake. For now, just open your eyes, please.” You mumble, searching for the extra clothes. You have to peel him out of his suit basically, blood making it almost like a wet suit onto his skin. Jungkook is more worried about the holes in the suit more than his skin, quickly reassuring him that you could sew them up. He nods, laying on the floor in nothing but a small pair of shorts. “This is going to hurt like a bitch, Jungkook.” You sigh, taking the sterile gauze and beginning to apply pressure to his still bleeding cuts.

His body stiffens under your hands, small grunts filling the room from the pain. You have to repeat this process multiple times, stomach doing flips as you fight back the urge to puke. Seeing him in so much pain makes your eyes water, you almost have to hold him down as he writhes from it. And by almost, you basically have him pinned down underneath you. You’re currently using one hand to apply pressure to the gashes, the other is holding his bicep down, and one of your feet is placed on his opposite thigh to stop him from jumping away. ”It'll be okay, just try and stay still. I got you, Kook.” After they slowly stop bleeding, you begin running sterile gauze with water over the dried blood. Slowly, it eventually looks less and less like a murder scene. “Please talk to me, Jungkook. Maybe it’ll take your mind off it.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” A tear falls down the side of his face, your hand instinctively reaching out to wipe it away. ”I know you’re worried about me, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, hand finding your side and doing his best to wrap it around you. “I understand, I really do. But I can't stop doing it, they need me.”

“I wasn't going to ask you to stop.” You answer, voice low and wavering slightly as you slowly stop crying over his injuries. As they get cleaned up a bit, you’re slowly able to calm down. “I just want, no need. I need you to be careful, Kook. Because if I lose you….I just. I won’t know- I won't know how to live after that.” You cry, head falling forward, causing your foreheads to push softly against each other. He understands your concern, rubbing your back comfortingly as you collect yourself. As you cry, his other hand finds your cheek to wipe the tears that slowly fall.

He hates seeing you this upset, hates it even more that it’s because of him. As he comforts you, his eyes water and threaten to spill over as he fights it away. After a bit, you’re able to pick your head up and resume, beginning smearing ointment over the cuts. To fill the silence in the room, he begins talking again. “You know, when I was fighting towards the end I started realizing how much he got me. I started feeling all of the cuts and pain running throughout my body. And after I hung him against the wall, I instinctively came over here. I wasn’t even thinking about showing up as Spider-Man, wasn’t thinking about how obvious it would be that I knew where your window was. The only thought that was running through my mind was that I needed to see you.” He explains. You’ve been sniffling the entire time, ever since Jungkook jumped down from the rails after agreeing to stay. As he talks more and more, it feels like you’re only fighting harder not to cry.

You’re not sure if this is supposed to make you feel better or worse, but your heart lurches. “I don't know if I wanted to see you for help, or see you to make me feel better. I just knew I had to get here, just in case something happened.”

“Don’t say that, you’re gonna be okay, Kook.” You abruptly cut him off, voice loud compared to his small one. You apologize softly, going back to his wounds. He nods, trying to reassure you.

“I'm already feeling better, Y/n.” He smiles, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch as you begin to bandage him up. You finish quickly, feeling nervous as he watches you.

“You know it’s weird, the last words I could’ve ever said to you were I hate you.” You laugh sadly, helping him pull his shirt on. He looks adorable as he stares at you, sporting a big patch on his cheek that covers the cut. “You should probably get some rest, you know? You’re gonna be sore in the morning for sure. I’ll get you painkillers and make breakfast when you wake up.” You smile, ruffling his hair.

“You’re right, can I borrow a pillow?” He asks, laughing lightly as he lays down on the floor.

“No, get in bed. You need to actually sleep well.” You laugh, dragging him up by one of his arms. He's quick to protest, No, it’s okay. I don't need to sleep on the bed to be comfortable. Because then you’re going to sleep on the floor and that’s not fair, no, I won't. He’s fighting you like a toddler that refuses to walk, completely dead weight as you try to drag him. With a loud sigh, you let him go and walk over to the red and blue suit on the ground. “Get in the bed, or the suit gets it!” You threaten, holding a pair of scissors to the material.

You genuinely laugh as his eyes widen, arms raising up. “Ok ok, take it easy now! Are those real scissors?!”

“Yes they’re real scissors!” A giant smile is spread across your face as he jokes with you.

“Oh no, real scissors are my weakness!!” He cries out, jokingly getting on his hands and knees. His hands stay in front of his face as he fake surrenders to your threats. Before you even realize what’s happening he’s shooting a web at you. It wraps around your wrist and will one hard tug, you’re tumbling towards him, suit and scissor falling out of your hands. “My suit is saved!”

“You missed the scissors a bit, Kook.” You laugh as you lay in his arms that caught you. He also has a giant smile spread across his face, a much better look than when you first peeled off his mask. Your heart swells, ears burning as he continues to peer down at you.

“I wasn’t aiming for the scissors.” He mumbles, making your face flush a bright red. Slowly, you almost miss it, you can feel him leaning into you. “Please, can I kiss you?” He asks softly, eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes. It feels like you’re in a dream that you’ll wake up from, slowly nodding yes to his question. In a second, his lips are against yours, eyes falling shut. A small hum falls from you as you instinctively press closer to him, hands finding his hair. His hands find your sides, pulling you closer to him and into a sitting position. Easily, your lips spot together as if they were a perfect fit, breaths becoming heavy as you take one another’s air. You can taste the metallic on his mouth, confused for a moment before remembering his busted bottom lip.

“Kook, you need to rest.” You breathe, voice airy as you catch it. You place a small peck onto his lips, holding his head in your hands. His eyes remain closed, head tilted up slightly at you. You massage his scalp with your fingertips, a slight hum filling the room as his hands hold you close. “Please, get some sleep.” You say, pressing one last kiss onto his forehead before you begin to climb out of his lap.

“Fine, fine. But only for you.” He finally gives in, slowly climbing into bed. You giggle, pulling the covers up to his chin and beginning to tuck them in around his body. “This feels like a bit overboard now.” Jungkook states, causing you to laugh at him.

“Shut up and close your eyes.” Finally tucking him in completely, you kiss him one last time before going about your tasks for the early morning. And by tasks, you mean the mess that Jungkook brought you. There’s small blood spots on your carpet, along with the soaking wet suit. As he gets rest, you work hard to repair what you can. The carpet is first, blood stains being vigorously scrubbed and cleaned until there’s no evidence they were ever there. Picking the suit off the ground, you’re almost afraid to ruin it.

You decide that hand washing is probably the best bet, sneaking out of your room to retrieve laundry soap and head to the bathrooms. You pray to every god that no one is there, and that no one walks in on you. You try your best to be as silent as possible, red and blue suit not easily mistaken for possible onlooking eyes. Hand washing the suit is a challenge, the fabric feeling like it was 100 pounds once it soaked up water. The water is a murky and deep red, making you grimace. After the workout that rinsing and hanging the suit turned out to be, your next chore is figuring out how to sew up the holes. YouTube becomes your best friend, sorry Kook. You throw the suit haphazardly into a towel, lugging the still damp suit back.

“Y/nnnnn…” You can hear Jungkook whining from your room just as you finish up your chores, immediately rushing to see if he’s alright. He remains in bed, still completely tucked in to his chin. “Come lay with me, it’s lonely and cold here. I wanna be held.”

At his last statement, you can’t help but laugh at him. “You need to get some rest.” You answer, shoving more blanket underneath him.

“I did, I just woke up from my nap. Come on.” He protests, untucking and opening the blankets up to you. Sighing, you take the invitation as you quickly come to your senses and aren’t gonna win this time. “What have you been up to?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Cleaning up your mess.” You smile, leaning back to fully look at his face. You can only catch a glimpse before he’s complaining, pulling you into his chest closer to him. You can’t help but smile, easily slotting yourself in between his arms. Your legs tangle together as the both of you get comfortable, using his bicep as your pillow for the time being.

"Do you remember the last time we were like this?" Jungkook asks, a small chuckle following his question. Confused, you pull away slightly to give him a questioning look. "When I had a nightmare and freaked out on you? And kept asking you if you were ok?"

"Oh, yeah. Why are you thinking about that right now, Kook?"

"It was about you, you know?" He states, his voice wavering slightly as he recalls the nightmare. Your heart feels like it's about to break for the millionth time that morning. "I wasn't able to save you, I was too slow and you fell. It was so vivid, it felt so real. Y-you hit the ground and when I walked over to you, you weren't moving. It scared me, bad." You listen in silence, allowing him to finish whatever he had left. "And when you woke me up, that felt like a dream. Like the two somehow got switched and waking up next to you was the dream, and that's why I had to check your arm. It honestly scared me so bad, that I wanted to distance myself from you because I was just so afraid of it actually becoming reality."

"It's okay Kook, I promise it's not going to happen. The distancing thing though, that was kind of shitty of you." You joke, able to pull a small chuckle from him. "I'll always be here for you, Kook, whenever you need me to."

"I'll always be here too, y/n. "

"Wanna hear some good news?" You smile, pushing yourself back into his chest as you get comfortable again. “I can proudly say your suit is fixed, ready for use once again. But not now, not until you heal. That's where I'm drawing the line.” You quickly add, to which he only laughs at you. Laying with him, you only now realize how much you’ve actually missed him these past few months.

“You’re the best. What would I do without you.” He smiles, tilting his head down to place a kiss on top of your hair. He doesn’t say anything after that, allowing his chin to rest on top of your head as he drifts off to sleep once more. You spend the entire morning holding one another, somehow scared to lose each other yet soaking up the touch. It’s not until you feel moisture that you pull away from him, searching for it.

“I have to change your bandages.” You sigh, slipping from his arms as you collect more supplies. Jungkook remains half asleep as you change the bled-through gauze, small hums the only reaction he gives you. Finally finished, a soft smile overtakes your face as he sleeps peacefully. Your hand finds his hair as you sit next to him, softly stroking his soft hair.

“Hm?” Jungkook hums, peeling his eyes open slightly.

“Nothing Kook.” You smile. “You can go back to sleep.”

“...Where did my shirt go?” He asks, glancing down at his bandaged chest. “If you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, you could’ve just said so.” He teases, hand jokingly grabbing your thigh.

“Ugh, next time I'll let you bleed out.” You roll your eyes, slapping his hand away from you. Making breakfast (that Jungkook insisted on helping with) and getting him painkillers, the near-death scare is finally coming to an end.

Jungkook’s with you, and he’s safe. You’re both on good terms again, more than good, and happy. Eating breakfast, the two of you unconsciously seek each other's touch. With legs tangled with one another underneath the table, and hands brushing more often than accidental, the two of you are finally content.

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sociopathicartist · 3 months

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Valentine’s day Headcanons. ♥︎♡︎

Classic sans, Fell, and Swap sans. ♡︎

Happy Valentine’s Day darlings !

A short Valentine's special HC list I’m doing during school, hope the day for you all goes well! <3

Classic Sans valentine Headcanons ! ♡︎♥︎♡︎

He’d do something sweet, of course.

If you started dating earlier that year, it wouldn't be too much. A safe play of flowers and chocolates, and maybe a cute date night. Something he’s seen in movies and knows usually doesn’t fail. (he may have also got help from his brother.)

If you’ve already been dating for a while, almost a year or longer, he’d do something more personal. He would get you the flowers he knows you like, if possible all in your favorite color. You don’t like flowers? Cool. He’ll make sure to get you something else you like.

I feel like he’s a gift basket typa guy. He’s been collecting little stuff here and there for you quite a bit before Valentine’s Day, and some other stuff he knows you need but haven’t taken the time to buy. Miscellaneous items like snacks you like, one or two of your favorite drinks, stuff he knows you’ll enjoy and use. Plus flowers or a stuffed animal of some kind.

He’s not too over the top, but would still show affection (obviously?) as he feels for you, so date night would be something personal instead. It could be a night stargazing with a picnic set up, (cliche, ik, but idc), and he’ll keep hitting you with the,

“oh, babe, you see that shooting star?”

“Sans… This is the 7th time this night.”

“whoops, it was your eyes.” Followed up with a cute, quick kiss.

He could also do something a bit more lazy, something more his speed. With the help of Papyrus’ search for good recipes, he’d make you both dinner. A cute rom-com movie while you both ate the dinner he made, cuddled up under blankets, and wrapped in each other’s embrace for the rest of the night. That would be perfect for him.

He’d also love to take you out to Grillby’s as a date choice. It’s a classic, something familiar that he loves and would take you to often without any rhyme or reason. He’d take you out, order some nice drinks unlike the ketchup he usually orders, and spend the time with you like all the other times he’s loved and enjoyed, but this time it’s just a bit more special.

The holiday overall wouldn’t be too over the top, just as he is, but he would still make it special. He doesn’t see too much point in the holiday since he does like to surprise you now and then with a relaxing night, but knows this holiday is special for humans so he tries for you.

Fell Sans ♡︎♥︎♡︎

(first HC round with this man…)

Dates all around would be romantic, doesn’t matter if you’ve dated for 2 weeks or 2 years. He’ll take you out to your favorite place (even if it’s really hard to get into) with a big bouquet and a teddy bear of some kind. what can he say? he likes the classic flowers and teddy bear combo, it’s an odd way of showing affection that he favors, he never got to experience that type of basic affection when he was underground in his rough environment.

I don’t feel like he’s a gift basket type of guy, more so just gifts here and there and the classic combo on Valentine’s Day. He just likes buying you stuff anytime he goes out and sees something that reminds him of you, you’re spoiled with enough gifts to not need an entire basket.

Red roses would probably be his first choice of flower. Unless you specifically request a different type of flower, he likes the basic things that he sees in movies that show the standard type of affection in gifts. Perfumes, jewelry, etc. He’s less like Classic Sans in the way that he prefers typical gifts rather than sentimental and personal ones. (not to say that he won't give sentimental gifts, cuz he will).

He’d probably like to end the night in a similar way to Classic, wrapped up with you on the couch and watching cute, ditzy movies that you oogled over until you both fell asleep.

“Sans.. You didn’t have to get me more roses.”

“what? i figured the first 2 bouquets i sent to yer house weren’t enough.”

Underswap Sans ♡︎♥︎♡︎

(i don’t like the fanon version of him, so I will stick to the canon version of him as much as i possibly can.)

This MAN.

Anything you’ve ever wanted on Valentine’s Day will be overtaken by the amount of stuff he does for you. You wake up and this man is already in your house somehow (he made a spare key with your house key a while back LMAO) just making breakfast for you.

“Dude… How did you get in here?”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS OVER-EASY, RIGHT?”

Yeah. He’d be all over you. There are somehow flowers in every room of your house, neatly trimmed and already in vases full of water. Rose petals are leading down every hallway, which when you tried to explain that they were supposed to lead somewhere special, Usually the bedroom for freaky stuff, He frowned and stated that he didn’t plan on staying in one place the whole day. Shouldn’t everywhere you walk feel special?

Honestly, despite putting flowers everywhere in your house I feel like he’s not a flower guy. He’d probably focus on just spending the WHOLE day together. Going out for a walk, getting coffee somewhere, him making dinner for you later that night. He’s all about that quality time rather than a handful of gifts being shoved at you. He’d rather take you out and buy stuff during the day with you.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #classic sans #sans x you #fell sans #underswap #blueberry sans #SAP

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fatallyfalling · 6 months

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Strawberry Wine ~ 𖤓

“ safe & sound “

warnings: mentions of alcohol, canon Hunger Games violence/trauma, wholesome fluff, etc.

{{ word count }} 487

{{ prompt }} fluffy headcanons for our beloved bread boy !!

{{ a/n }} this is short & sweet while i test out Peeta’s character! I’m not sure what i exactly want to write with him since i’ve adored everlark for forever but for now please enjoy my silly happy thoughts! Some of these i’ve heard around the internet i think but i can’t remember where :[

Peeta Mellark, the ashy blonde from District 12 who stole the hearts of the Capital with his charms and sweet, boyish nature while also managing to tame a stubborn Mockingjay - Katniss Everdeen, and poured out his heart and soul to get back to her any way he could.

- Peeta is a morning person. He'll get up early and have breakfast ready by the time Katniss pulls out of bed (she learns to sleep in post-rebellion).

- His favorite type of bread/pastry is croissants. The tedious labor of laminating the cold butter block into the fluffy dough is cathartic in a way.

- Once, he tried to teach Katniss to paint. Once. Her attempt at trees looked more like crazy brown and green spiders but he still kissed her temple and had the painting framed, much to the girl on fire's dismay.

- Peeta doesn't like hard liquor - he never did. Effie hooks him on a strawberry wine made special in what used to be District 11, he's gifted at least one bottle every birthday or holiday.

- He's such a housewife no questions asked, hands down. Hungry? He'll cook. Thirsty? Anything you want. This man has to be physically removed from the kitchen during friendly gatherings so he can actually relax and enjoy the company.

- Also, his Dad lore is insane.

(speaking to his kids when they're older) "Oh yeah, your Mom tried to kill me once. but it's okay I made it even the next year so we're good now."

"One time I almost got eaten by a monkey in a fight to the death."

"Another time I took a spontaneous road trip, got held hostage, and then led a rebellion to victory alongside your Mom."

- Peeta teaches himself guitar so he can play along while Katniss sings. His chords are wildly out of tune at first, but he gets it eventually.

- Peeta doesn't like store-bought bread, saying his homemade loaves taste better (they do).

- He's a hugger, every hello and goodbye is met by a bear hug. His hugs are amazing as well, nice and tight but also comforting and warm.

- For a while after the war Peeta kept a journal on his nightstand to record his dreams/nightmares. Even if the text turns out to be chicken scratch in the morning Katniss still helps him decipher and work through it to solidify reality.

“What does that say ?”

“Uh… I think… no - wait, I have no idea,”

- Effie and Peeta definitely have wine nights to talk about their scary guard dog partners and how much they love them.

- Speaking of paint - it’s everywhere, all the time, mainly his hands. Oil paint is next to impossible to clean so almost all of Peeta’s shirts have some amount of color speckled on the sleeves or the thighs of his pants.

- Peeta also keeps a cookie jar of homemade cookies in the kitchen, they’re replenished every week with regular flavor swaps.

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theunholyrogue · 5 months

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under the mistletoe🎄

❤️bayverse! x GN reader💚

still on my writing hiatus, but i thought i would pop in for a quick, short christmas post with my favorite boys

tw: v mild cursing, none— all fluffy! ☁️

merry christmas, and happy holidays! <3

🎄💙Leonardo💙🎄

Oh, how Leonardo loved watching the excitement in your body language and emotions after he had agreed to helping you set up your christmas decorations around your home.

He didn’t mind doing anything for you, you were his partner after all and you definitely put up with a lot from him and his brothers— this was the utter least he could do for you.

So, while sipping on homemade hot chocolate, you and Leo spent the cold day together setting up your christmas tree, stringing the lights around it, and hanging ornaments off of the dark green branches.

You didn’t have many ornaments, as you had rather collect the cooler, more personal ornaments such as a hallmark oogey boogey from ‘the nightmare before christmas’ or a book to describe your various hobbies, over the glass or plastic bulbs that were really only used for the aesthetic…

unless the glass/plastic bulbs are your thing, then go off babe~

Both you and Leonardo enjoyed the quiet time off the moment, listening to the low sounds of christmas music or whatever you would rather play in the background on your TV.

“Thank you for helping me, Leo,” You speak as the two of you hang some garland over the top of your fireplace, followed by two stockings— one for you and one for Leonardo.

“Of course, love,” He responded, a warm and endearing smile on his features as you two finish and meet in the middle of your living room.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, around his shell as best you could as he returned the gesture.

“There is something that’s missing,” Leonardo muttered, causing you to look up at him.

“What?”

In an instant, you spot the mistletoe bundle above both of your heads, trying to figure out how Leonardo pinned it up there without you realizing.

Of course, the answer was that he was a ninja.

Without giving enough time to react, Leonardo tightened his hugging grip with one arm as the other slide to your neck, his hand coddling the back of your head as he pulled you into a longing kiss.

“A mistletoe kiss,” he states as the two of you pull away. “Merry Christmas, my dearest.”

“I don’t think I can love you anymore than I do.”

🎄💜Donatello💜🎄

The turtle genius had been hearing nonstop about Christmas lights from you, April, and Casey— about wanting to visit the biggest Christmas light display and drive-thru around their area.

Annnnd since April is a reporter, she and Casey had the benefit of going in before they opened to the public one night while April ran a story on the on the festive and flashy display.

Leaving you all alone.

Now— Donatello had never been one to celebrate Christmas, the whole ordeal stemmed from something that went against the science that he could prove, yet, after the two of you started dating, he most definitely put in a lot more effort for minor things like holidays and such just to make you happy.

So, since the turtle couldn’t bring you to the lights himself, why not bring the lights to you?

Thus, he banned you from the lair for roughly a week as he put his plan into action. He spent a lot of money for April to buy lights, while he would tinker and toy with the rest, ultimately creating an entire display of assorted lights that he and another could walk through.

And when it was time, he brought you back to the lair with a blindfold over your eyes.

“This is kinky,” you tease.

“Stop it.” Donatello replied, guiding you to the entrance of the lair before removing the blindfold.

You paused in awe, seeing the array of lights that was carefully manipulated into different christmas objected and scenes.

Candy canes, Santa, his reindeer, gingerbread houses, etc…

“Oh my… did you do all of this for me?” You asked softly, gazing up at Donatello, who watched you with a faint smile.

“Of course I did, you deserve it.”

You couldn’t help but hug him for a moment before the two of you walked through his creation.

Eventually, he led you through a multicolored tunnel that ended with an tinsel arch, white lights strung through it to resemble snowflakes. In the very middle, hanging off of the arch was a mistletoe.

Of course Donatello ended the walk with you both underneath it, and in the moment, he swept you off of your feet and bent forward over you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

🎄❤️Raphael❤️🎄

“Sorry we had to wait for everyone to clear outta here,” Raphael murmured, slipping around on the ice of the ice hockey rink that doubled as a ice skating rink in the winter time.

You had been talking about wanting to go ice skating, whether you were good at it or not, yet you had struggled to find the time to go by yourself… or at all— period.

So, since Raphael “knows a guy who knows a guy”… Casey Jones… he decided to ask for a favor from the male in exchange for some free pizza.

“Raph, this is so much better than being around others! We’re all alone, I’m with my favorite person, this seriously couldn’t get any better!” You exclaimed as you slid along the ice in your skates, remaining close to Raphael.

Raphael smirked as you proclaimed your total excitement for the night activity, making him feel better about, well, the situation at hand. He always felt bad when he couldn’t take you out in public with others around, yet you always found a way to reassure him that it was always okay with you.

So, he continued to try and pick up the simplest of moves— skating forward, in the ice skates that Donatello had made specifically for him.

“Dang, I feel real bad about calling myself a ninja and not being able to do this,” he grumbled, though you didn’t mind reaching out and guiding him along.

“It takes time to learn, just like how you had to practice ninjitsu to be good at it. Right?” You asked with a smile.

“Yeah… and I’m damn good at it,” he grins.

“You sure are, love.”

Slowly, but surely, Raphael continued to pick up on the way of ice skating, being able to move forward and slightly be able to spin around in a circle.

Finally, as you two were doing one more lap around the rink, Raphael looked over at you.

“You know how ya’ said this night couldn’t get better?”

You paused, watching him as he maneuvered back in front of you.

“Yeaaah?”

He pulled out a small mistletoe bushel from his pocket, holding it over both of your heads while moving close. He leaned down in your direction and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, hot stuff,” he grinned before pressing his lips against yours, both lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

“Couldn’t get better than that.” You grinned, pulling him back into a greedy kiss, causing the two of you to fall onto the ice and proceed to laugh it off.

🎄🧡Michelangelo🧡🎄

The turtles had been planning this holiday party for weeks, now that they had a collective group of people that they now considered apart of the family and wanted to spend part of their holiday season with.

Making the most out of it, you had decided to spend the late morning and midday to help your turtle partner in cooking delicious sweets while the others set up for the party.

Plenty of giggles and goofing around erupted between you and Michelangelo as you two measured ingredients, throwing some of the flour at your partner with the turtle retaliating against you by smacking a palm-full of whipped cream into your face.

You also couldn’t resist taking your finger and dragging it across the surface of the cake bowl, licking the ingredients off while earning a whine from Mikey.

“Oh, no fair! I was gonna do that!”

“Guess you were a little too slow then, huh?”

He simply rolled his eyes with a cheeky grin, catching you off guard with a quick cheeky kiss and quickly copying your actions with the remainder of the leftover batter. He pulled his finger out, creating a loud ‘pop’ sound with his mouth as you narrow your eyes.

“Oop! Guess you were a little too slow, sweet cheeks.”

“You are a total asshole for that,” you pouted, sticking the empty bowl into the sink to wash, along with the rest of the dirty dishes.

As you two cleaned up the disaster in the kitchen and laid the finished desserts of cookies, brownies, fudge, and whatever else came to mind, out onto the bar— you started to plate the desserts onto Christmas themed plates rather than leaving them on the pans.

The boys had finished setting up for the party, leaving the rest of the job for you and Mikey to bring the plates of sweets out and settling them up on a table in the main area where the party would be, alongside the drinks and small finger foods that Casey and April had brought.

One by one, you brought the dessert to the entrance separating the kitchen and the living space, where Michelangelo would meet you and take the plate, moving to the table and setting it down— until it came down to the last dessert.

As you walked to the entrance, Mikey swiftly took the plate from your hands and moved it to one hand, snaking the other around your waist and pulling you close to him.

Without so much as a warning, the orange clad turtle pressed his lips against yours in a short yet passionate kiss before pulling away, leaving you momentarily dazed. From there, he grinned and winked at you.

“Merry Christmas, sexy.” He states before walking back to the food table, leaving you there to stare up at the mistletoe berry and leaf that hung in the doorway above your head.

“That was pretty smooth…” You mutter with a blushing smile.

187 notes · View notes

abiiors · 4 months

Text

chocolate // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 2: love potion

a/n: this is about abiior ross specifically hehe (short hair, shot beard etc) cw: use of aphrodisiacs against their knowledge (lets suspend our belief there), masturbation (f), implied voyeurism, unprotected sex oops (they're too horny to think it through) wc: 4k

sweet taste of chocolate dissolves on your tongue as elena continues to recount her latest holiday to belgium. she has that “just back from holiday” tan on her and you laugh along to her stories, popping another square of chocolate in your mouth while sorting through the pile of gifts she’s brought for everyone.

a heap of chocolate wrappers sits between the two of you and you’re certain you have enough sugar in you to feed a small village—still, the sweetness lingers on your tongue and makes you sigh wistfully every time you think about it.

“i’m seeing ross later,” you slip in quietly when she takes a breath between her rambling and elena’s eyes go round.

“seeing him seeing him? you finally asked him out?”

your head hangs in shame at the question and you can’t help the wince that leaves you. elena tsks. “oh babe, come on! he’s such a sweet guy and he clearly likes you back.”

“you don’t know that!”

several seconds pass and elena arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. she’s right, you know she’s right. you’ve had this silly, desparate crush for six months now and you should have done the mature adult thing of asking him out. but your heart races every time he’s near and every single word in your head disappears along with all sane and rational thoughts.

“well,” you shrug, “can i take some chocolate for him? he’s got a sweet tooth.”

elena smirks and flicks your hand away before you can reach for one.

“only if you promise to ask him out. a coffee date. that’s as casual as it gets!”

you blanch at her but she stands her ground forcing you to at least mull it over in your head.

once again, she is right. you can ask him out for a coffee and pretend it’s just a friendly little thing if the vibes seem purely platonic. you’ll figure it out. you know you will.

scrunching your eyes shut, you give in. “fine… fine, i’ll do it.”

elena squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at her excitement but let the butterflies take flight in your stomach. once she lets go, she points behind her.

“the fridge has a better selection. go take as many as you want.”

you’re out of the chair and halfway to the kitchen before she’s even done speaking, big goofy grin on your face at the thought of meeting him later and teasing him when he inhales the chocolates faster than humanly possible.

the fridge is messy as usual—half empty bottles of milk, some past their expiry date, opened bags of cheese and old chinese takeout. you ignore all of it and dig your way to the back to find the rest of them (in elena’s little hidden space in the fridge to keep it away from her boyfriend).

most of them are the usual ones and you take a few to put it in your bag. a new one catches your eye—it’s just a simple black square with a golden heart embossed on the cover, not one you’ve tried yet and it instantly piques your interest so you take two of them and put the bag back in its place.

then you close the fridge and make your way back to the living room.

the backstage at the band’s practice show is chaos incarnate. everyone’s in a rush to set up things in their proper place. the props are strewn on the stage, waiting for their permanent place, the instruments are neatly arranged in a corner and ross is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. his thumb scrolls on his screen. a second later, he snorts, types something on his phone and you feel yours buzzing in your pocket with an incoming text.

it makes your silly heart skip a beat.

his head snaps up when you clear your throat. a warm smile spreads across his face, and he quickly stubs out his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby bin.

“didn't expect to see you here so bright and early," he says, pushing off the wall to approach you. at his full height, ross is nearly a head taller. on top of that, he’s been working out and staying fit, his beard’s sparser than it was before, his hair neatly cut and gelled back perfectly.

ross looks devastatingly handsome, a proper rockstar. you look like… you.

“wanted to see you–uh, see what you were getting up to,” you hope the breathlessness stays out of your voice, you hope he hasn’t noticed you blatantly checking him out.

all that goes flying out the window the moment he gathers you into a hug. his body is warm and solid, his t-shirt soft and familiar. the scent of his aftershave surrounds you thoroughly, invades all your senses until you just debate throwing all caution to the wind and jumping him right here.

the hug lasts longer than you would have expected.

when he pulls back there’s a faint flush on his cheeks (probably the heating, you rationalise) and a wide grin on his face.

“are you excited?”

“to watch you play? always!”

you cringe at how eager it sounds, how desperate. fortunately, ross giggles and offers you his arm.

“come on, let me give you a tour.”

twenty minutes later, you’re back where you started, arm in arm and excited about the concept of the new show, about their new setlist and the live debuts of some new tracks. ross is already beaming with excitement and his eyes crinkle in they way they do only when he’s genuinely happy. it’s infectious. more often than not you find yourself staring at him and giving him a loopy smile.

utterly fucking love-sick.

“jamie’s gone all out too,” he continues. “there’s a whole dressing arena for us even though this isn’t a real show. we wanted to try out a couple styles i guess.”

“oh, you’re a fashion icon now?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“let me show you what patti’s got for us,” he offers and once again, you take his arm and follow him to some corner of the arena.

the dressing room is pretty much what you’d expected—a room full of mirrors and closet doors. there’s a sofa in the corner and bottles of water on the table. clothes are scattered across chairs and hanging on racks, each outfit carefully selected for the show, each outfit a statement aesthetic for every member on stage.

and that’s pretty much it.

you plop onto the sofa. moments later ross does the same, slinging an arm around your shoulder that’s almost-a-cuddle-but-not-really. you desperately pray he can’t hear your hammering heart that’s almost in your throat now. he’s so cool and casual, so comfortable in the silence. you on the other hand, desperately feel the need to fill it.

“elena’s back from her holiday. stole some chocolates from her stache for you.”

his playful grin returns and ross straightens eagerly. “you really are a sweetheart.”

the word does funny things to your insides, almost like there’s an entire flock of birds going haywire in there until his hands comes to rest on your knee and every thought in your head goes quiet.

“go on then, show us what you got.”

one by one you pull them out—bonbons and candy and silly little heart-shaped sweets that were everywhere in preparation for valentine’s day. his face lights up like a kid at christmas, he unravels the nearest sweet, moaning at its sweetness dissolving on his tongue just like you had.

you stare at him unabashedly.

“i got this too,” you pull out the two black squares, handing him one. “dunno what they are but they looked fancy enough. i haven’t tried them yet though.”

together, you unwrap them and look at the dark square inside. they look nothing special, they smell like regular dark chocolate too. perhaps they’re a little richer than the ones before, slightly better but he shrugs and moves on to the next bonbon.

you do the same.

if the arena was chaotic before, it’s damn near cocophonous now. somewhere, someone’s yelling for all the instruments to be moved. jamie and matty are in a heated discussion with a few other creative consultants. adam has his headphones in and he’s plucking something on the guitar. george is nowhere to be seen and ross is on stage making sure his bass is tuned just the way he wants it.

you take the moment to stare at him while he’s busy. a stubborn strand of hair escapes onto his forehead, falling into his eyes while he focuses on the bass in his hands. his mouth is parted in concentration, eyebrows scrunched together with an adorable little crease in between.

a quick thought flashes in your brain—what would it be like to walk up to him and straddle him right now? to set his bass aside and demand his attention in a way you’ve never even imagined before. to kiss away his frown until everyone and everything in the room fades away into the background.

the butterflies in your stomach come back with a vengeance. ross shifts in his seat.

“will you settle a debate for us, love?” matty’s voice startles you enough that you almost stumble back but he’s already passionately begun explaining the dilemma.

you try to focus on him, you really do. usually, it’s fun to give your input on things, fun to listen to his everchanging and eccentric ideas as he tries to explain his vision in a cohesive way. but your attention can’t stop drifting to the man on stage.

your eyes can’t seem to move away from his fingers as they pick string after string.

heat simmers under your skin at the sight of them. interestingly enough, ross fidgets with the collar of his t-shirt and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead.

“are you… listening?” matty snaps his fingers, his face contorted in a puzzled look while jamie looks on impatiently.

“sorry, i—”

before you have the chance to finish again, they’re back at each other’s throats, bickering like an old married couple. you don’t even notice when they walk away and their voices peter out. you keep your eyes trained on ross and the hollow of his throat and his hands. subconsciously, you clench your thighs together.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

this isn’t the time or place to be horny. and yet the more strings he plucks, they more it reverberates through your entire body and makes your head spin with lust and heat. this is getting out of control and you cannot fucking figure out the reason behind it.

hurriedly, you make your way back to the dressing room. it’s deserted by now—everyone including the band and the crew are by the stage. it’s your luck that the room isn’t locked, that not a single person seems to be in this part of the arena.

you chest heaves as you slam the door shut, beelining to the sofa in a fucking daze. the chocolate wrappers from before sit innocently in the bin in the corner. you struggle with a bottle of water, gulping in down in hopes that it would cool you just a little. some of it spills down your top, the cotton sticks to your skin and the feel of it against your nipples feels overwhelming. electric, if you are being honest.

curses spil from your lips as you throw yourself on the sofa, on the left side of it, where ross had sat before. your mind conjures up the scent of his aftershave again, the feel of his hand on your knee, and you imagine it trailing up—fingers testing and taunting until they’re at the waistband of your jeans. until they’re dipping inside your underwear and swiping through your slick folds.

your breath catches and your hand drifts to the crotch of your jeans.

maybe if you could just take the edge off a bit. maybe if you could just do this and then never think of it again and then go back to to your day and never look ross in the eye ever again. your cunt pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat, which is already racing faster than it should be.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him then. his body hovering on top of yours, pressing down on top of you until he sinks into you so deep that you feel him in your gut. you think of his lips, fucking perfect and so out of your leage. you think of the calloused pad of his fingers tracing your lip, your cupid’s bow.

against your better judgment, you sink further into the sofa, running your hands on your breasts, stomach, the insides of your thighs, all the while imagining how ross’ calloused fingers felt on your back and waist the countless times you'd hugged before. how they would feel in other places.

it’s fucking depraved but the thrill of it feels so sinfully good that you can’t stop your fingers from tracing circles over your clit—languid and loose.

your fingers feels too small, too soft. this isn’t what your body wants. it desperately craves him but he’s busy doing his actual job. your ears ring with the bloodrush and every touch against your skin feels like a zap of electricity passing through you.

one hand buried deep between your legs and the other kneading and massaging your nipples, you are on cloud nine. once or twice, you bite your lip to keep the moans down but what’s the point? the solid concrete walls would keep all the sounds inside anyway.

your pants fill the room, sweat gathers on your forehead and you feel it drawing closer, some semblance of a release at least. through the haze you see ross standing by the door, still as a statue, his mouth slightly open.

“ross…” you moan softly, willing this hallucination to come closer, to replace your hands with his, and finish what you started, but he doesn’t move.

a second passed by and then another, and then as if you’ve been doused with cold water, your entire body goes numb and cold.

he’s here. he’s not a hallucination or a figment of your lust-filled imagination, he is really. fucking. here.

you go cold and then hot again, sure that your entire face—hell, your entire body—has gone beetroot red. helplessly, you scramble to get your hands away from you, as if that would salvage anything at this point. as if that would wipe his memory of the last five minutes.

how did he even get here without you hearing so much as a creak? and you’d just moaned his name for fuck’s sake. the blood drains from your face, your heart stutters—this time for all the wrong reasons.

‘ross…’ your voice sounds all high-pitched and thin. all wrong and panicked.

ross only stalks toward you, deliberately slow and graceful, and stops a few inches away from the sofa. too far, the pervy part of your brain chimes in, he’s still standing a bit too far away. his eyes look dark and stormy, his face utterly fucking calm.

you try to suppress the tremor in your limbs, try to look anywhere but at him. (ideally, you try to look for something sharp to stab yourself with) and it’s then that your body betrays your entirely. slowly, as if against your will, your eyes slide down his body and linger on the bulge in his trousers. hard and prominent and fucking big enough to make you salivate despite the current situation.

“what are you doing here?” the words comes out as a weak whisper.

“watching you.”

his voice sounds deep and husky, with a dangerous edge to it. his eyes roam all over your body, or whatever’s visible of it—over your stomach and a sliver of underboob—and heat, more intense than you felt just minutes before, floods your entire body.

and yet, you still can’t look him in the eye.

“you are fucking stunning,” he breathes.

the words make your brain short-circuit. hastily, you try to cover your face, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole and spit you out into some parallel universe where ross just doesn’t exist anymore.

“oh, baby,” he tuts, moving closer until you’re face-to-face, and even now it isn’t enough. inspite of your humiliation, you want him closer, on top of you, and under your skin, and inside you, pounding into you until you are dumb and drooling.

he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. your mouth goes dry at the sight of them. his pupils are dilated to the point where his hazel eyes are almost completely black.

“don’t–don’t hide from me… you have no idea how long, i…” the rest of it dies on his lips when you whimper. your body feels liquid, blood flowing through your veins like molten lava, searing every inch of skin that’s begging for his touch.

“so touch me then,” the voice that comes out of you is pathetic, needy, but you can’t care less right now. if you had to stay in this state of limbo anymore the flimsy little thread holding the last of your sanity together would snap.

agonisingly slow, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. his chest gleams with sweat, tattoos starkly visible against his pale skin and you want to trace each and every one of them with your tongue, memorise all the grooves of his body with your fingers, fill up his scent into your lungs until it’s all you can smell.

just in his trousers now, he settles over you, knee pressed between your wide-open legs, brushing against your clothed clit. you hiss at the barest of touches. ross looking down at you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, enough that you moan his name again. and again when he kisses you, softly at first and then harder, urgent and feverish.

his hands toy with the hem of your top and you nod fervently, eager to be rid of it. his tongue traces every inch of your mouth.

“just how i imagined you would taste,” he breathes in between kisses, and the words spear through the haze in your brain, burrowing themselves deep in there.

“you thought about how i’d taste?”

tenderly, he kisses your jaw, peppers a few more kisses on your cheek. “every moment of these last few months.”

you say something unintelligible, dumbstruck by how fucking sweet he sounds in the middle of everything. his hand trails up and down your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, while his mouth continues to kiss your jaw, your neck, your cleavage. all you can do is tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him as close as you possibly can. unable to take it any longer, you fumble with the buckle of his belt, undoing the button and unzipping his trousers till you can palm him through his boxers. in spite of them still covering him, you moan at how big he feels, how deliciously thick and hard.

something in him snaps at the sound. it’s as if he’d been holding back until now, but now he grabs the hem of your top and slips it clean off you. his discarded trousers join the small heap on the floor and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers.

“i need you inside me. please ross…”

“ride me,” he says instantly and you nod, flipping until he’s on the sofa and you’re on his lap, fumbling to get out of your jeans and underwear while he pulls his boxers down.

with one hand around your waist, ross lifts you up until his tip’s grazing your cunt. “go on darling, you can take me,” his voice trembles with barely controlled restraint. and you might as well be his puppet because you obey instantly, sinking onto him until he’s deep inside you, until you feel the delicious stretch and burn.

your gasp makes him groan.

his fingers grip your face gently, moving it to make you look at the giant mirrors next to you, at your bodies locked together.

“look at you…” he moans and thrusts up into you. you mewl at the suddenness of it, but it’s impossible to look away from the image in the mirror. you bouncing on his cock, rutting and moving your hips, shamelessly chasing ecstasy. his face slack with pleasure, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every inch of it while you take in every inch of him.

his thrusts are slow in the beginning, punishing almost and you try to increase the pace, digging your nails into his shoulders, until he’s smiling smugly at all the desperately written so clearly all over your face.

“faster,” you almost beg and he obliges instantly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. his fingers work at your clit again; pinching and rubbing, until you can no longer look at the mirror, can’t look at anything as your eyes roll back into your head and stars wink on the insides of your lids.

filthy words fill the room mixed with groans and moans from both of you. it almost feels like a trance—to feel him so deep inside you that your head buzzes, pleasure coild in your belly and you squirm and writhe, trying to feel more of him, greedy and insatiable.

heat builds in your stomach, the feeling from before starts at the base of your spine again, travelling up until it’s spreading throughout your body, to your fingertips. from the way ross’ thrusts turn wild and erratic, you know he’s close too.

“you feel so good, so–so fucking perfect,” you tell him, trying to get the words out in between moans and gasps.

“oh baby,” he coos, “we are fucking perfect together, aren’t we.”

frantically, you nod, capturing his mouth in another feverish hot kiss. “yes, yes.”

because that’s what you’ve been dying to hear for months now, dying to know that he felt the same want and yearning you did.

when the orgasm finally hits, you almost black out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your loud moans fill the room, overshadowing any sounds he makes, but you’re too far gone to care. the sound undoes him within moments and ross thrusts hard into you, cumming with a loud groan. you feel the cum spilling in you and running down your thighs, sticky and wet.

vaguely, you’re aware if slumping forward and pressing your face into his chest. ross strokes your hair softly until you can get your breathing back to normal.

you giggle in his chest when the conversation with elena springs back into your mind. it feels so far away now, like it happened days ago instead of hours ago.

“what?” ross asks, sounding a bit amused.

“i was supposed to ask you out for coffee. elena dared me, in exchange for the chocolate.”

he giggles at your answer, pressing a quick kiss on your head, which instantly makes your heart melt.

“those chocolates were… something.”

you snort. that’s one way to put it. finally, you pull away, looking at him properly for the first time. his face is flushed and coated in sweat but he looks… happy. more than you’ve seen him before.

“so… coffee?” you bite your lip, irrationally shy now of all times.

ross kisses you in response, sweet and slow, a proper chaste kiss as if you’re not sat on his lap, still naked and dripping with his cum. but you kiss him back equally slow, giggling like a teenager.

“like you have to ask.”

lemme know what you think <33

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116 notes · View notes

perseephoneee · 6 months

Note

I would love to see secret santa with isaac lahey for ficmas!

secret santa (isaac lahey x f!reader) ficmas 2023

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 4 of ficmas!

a/n: my special special boy isaac for the holiday season. dedicated to @mayfieldss for being my wifey.

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

“How did you convince Derek to let you host a Christmas party at his loft?” you questioned, laying on Stiles’ bed as you crocheted. Stiles spun around in his desk chair and occasionally put more red string on his “murder board.”

“Because of my charm,” Stiles turned towards you, clicking a pen in one of his hands. You paused your crochet project to look at him with exasperation. “Okay, fine; I promised to leave him alone for a month and clean his car.”

“That sounds more accurate,” you chuckled, resuming your project. You let out a huff of annoyance as Stiles threw a paper ball at your head. “Why is this so important to you?”

“I thought you liked Christmas.”

“I love Christmas; I want to know what has got you in the overt Christmas spirit this year,” you asked pointedly. You started another row as Stiles let out a short breath.

“We’re all graduating, and I’m worried that we’ll never spend another holiday together again,” Stiles admitted, scooting his chair back to slap a new magnet on his board. You dropped your project, scooting to the end of the bed so you could look at Stiles. He refused to make eye contact.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you sighed, touching Stiles’ shoulder. “Even being friends with you couldn’t get me to leave this place behind.” Stiles smiled, covering his hand with your own. You knew Stiles was nervous that we would all go our separate ways and never speak again, especially with him attending the FBI academy in the fall. Even the people you knew Stiles would pretend not to miss (Liam, Isaac, etc.), as his friend, you were fully aware he would miss everyone.

“Y/N…thanks for always being my friend,” Stiles sniffled. You jumped off the bed to hug him, Stiles laughing as you almost tackled him.

“You’re my best friend, buddy boy– you can’t ditch me,” you collapsed on the ground at Stiles’ feet, a smile covering your face. “Now, what must we do to prepare for this party?”

“Well, Lydia has got most of it covered. I did manage to convince her to do one thing, though, as a gift for you,” Stiles held his hands in front of him like a movie villain, and you started to get very suspicious. You got back up on the bed, curling your legs into yourself as Stiles gave himself a drum roll. “I got Isaac to be your Secret Santa.”

“You what?” you screeched, eyes growing wide.

“Look, even though I think Isaac is the worst, I know you’ve had a crush on him for years. This is why he will be giving you a gift this year.”

“That’s not very secret.”

“I’m also setting up mistletoe all over the loft. There will be other casualties to my mistletoe plan, but I will happily sacrifice that for your happiness.”

“I…have no words,” you gulped. You liked Isaac since you first saw him, even before he became a wolf. And then he joined your pack, everyone started hanging out together, and your crush grew stronger. You jumped at the opportunity every time you got to do stakeouts or other missions with just Isaac. You didn’t believe that he liked you back, though. You were human, a lot quieter than the other pack members, and also prone to word vomit when feelings of awkwardness arose.

“This way, you’ll have something he got specifically for you.”

“Unless he gives me a gag gift because he doesn’t care.”

“If he does that, then he’s not worth your time. I’m saying that as your friend with the knowledge that you are a great person,” Stiles grins. He turns back to his laptop, feet propped up on the corner of the table and fidget spinner in his other hand. You had a slight smile as you returned to your project, and that smile didn’t leave your face as you spent the rest of the night with Stiles.

The party happened a week later. You, Kira, and Mason had spent time getting a bunch of decorations to make it look more festive and then left Lydia to boss Parrish around on where to put things up. Lydia had a vision; none of you dared ruin it. It gave you time to go home and get ready anyway. You dressed in a simple burgundy sweater with jeans and boots but bothered putting on more makeup than usual. You even clipped your hair back with some star clips you found in the back of your drawer. When you returned to the loft, your jaw almost dropped with how pretty it looked. Twinkly lights and tinsel covered the available surface area, and a tree was in the back with presents already stacked. There was a table with all the amuse bouches one could wish for, and the scent of cranberries and oranges filled the room.

“Happy holidays, Y/N,” Peter said from right next to you, giving you a minor heart attack.

“Someone invited you?” you exclaimed, earning an eye roll from Peter.

“I’ve been tasked with taking coats,” he sighed, already bored. You handed him your jacket and quickly left, not interested in being another meal. Malia was by the dining table eating all the different meats and cheeses.

“Merry Christmas, Malia,” you said, grabbing an olive and popping it in your mouth.

“Who knew food could be so fancy?” Malia mumbled, not taking a breather before eating more. She looked like a kid at a candy store, and it made you laugh.

“Food is still food, just prepared differently,” you responded. You watched in slight admiration as she chugged a glass of champagne before eating half a block of cheese. You wished for her metabolism so you could eat so openly.

“I like the pigs in a blanket the best,” a voice said behind you. You turned around and felt your heart catch as you saw Isaac, a slight grin on his face. He was dressed in a blue henley, and the lights reflected brilliantly off his eyes. “Although, I’m more a fan of the blanket.” He proceeded to suck off the bread part of the pig in a blanket, leaving you with a confused expression.

“Did you seriously just suck the bread off?”

“I said I was more a fan of the blanket,” Isaac answered, finishing the rest of his snack with an expression that read duh. Before you could react to whatever that was, you were handed a holiday cracker by Lydia, who was running around and gifting them out. These were wrapped in a green and gold floral print and tied with red ribbon. You held your cracker to Isaac, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He took the other end of the cracker, and you both pulled, the contents exploding from inside. You happily picked up your kazoo and paper crown before helping Isaac open his Christmas cracker. You traded your kazoo for his deck of cards before putting your crowns on.

“Let me help,” Isaac said, positioning the paper crown on your head at the perfect angle. His fingers brushed down your hair as he stepped back, and you felt a blush coat your cheeks before you could stop it. “Look, now you’re a king.”

“Not a queen? Or a princess?” you asked cheekily.

“Pretty sure you could be whomever you want,” Isaac replied, hands in his pockets as he looked down awkwardly. For a boy who wasn’t always the best with words and frequently struggled to pick up social cues, he somehow managed to find a way to flatter you. Before you could respond, Stiles clinked his glass to alert everyone to Secret Santa starting. You found a spot on one of the couches, curling up into the corner. Malia sat beside you, offering you a candy cane she stole from somewhere.

“Thank you guys for bothering to show up today,” Stiles started, fingers anxiously tapping the side of his glass. “I’m happy to be included in this group of people, and…I don’t intend to lose you guys even when we graduate.”

It was one of the more severe things Stiles had ever said, and you could tell that it took a lot of willpower not to break into a joke. Everyone clapped and yelled kind things, though, and you knew it relieved some pressure from Stiles’ chest.

“Alright, let's start this party as we trash Derek’s loft!” Stiles clapped as Derek glared from the back. “Chill out, big guy; I was kidding.”

You had to give your friends credit; they put together some perfect gifts this year. You were excited as you had Kira the crochet fingerless gloves you had made in pink and black yarn.

“It has a mitten cover that you can button back,” you explained as Kira excitedly put them on and cooed over how soft the fabric was. Liam did try to steal them at one point before you promised to make him a pair.

You were shoving a cookie in your mouth when Lydia announced that it was your turn to receive your gift. Avoiding Isaac’s gaze, you watched as Lydia brought over a small box wrapped in brown paper with a silky ribbon. You anxiously untied it, carefully peeling the paper away. You were greeted with an emerald green velvet case that you opened with a small gasp. Inside was a simple silver chain with three different charms on it. One of the charms was the Celtic ruin for protection, another a car with a Christmas tree on top, and finally a coffee pot.

“I think I remembered that your family uses that sign for protection all over your home,” Isaac mumbled, a flush coating his cheeks as you finally looked up at him. “And the car is for when we were sent to get the Christmas tree, and you argued with the seller for trying to overcharge us. And the coffee pot is because of how you complain about needing coffee every time we hang out.”

You could feel your eyes tearing up as you looked at the thoughtful gift. Not only was it perfect, but Isaac gave it to you and put a lot of thought into it. You sat up, enveloping him in a hug that caught him off guard. Your face was buried in his shoulder as you inhaled the sweet vanilla scent that seemed to follow him. He tentatively hugged you back, bringing you in even closer.

“Isaac,” you sniffled, pulling away. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The smile that covered his face was infectious, and you knew that if you sat there any longer, you would combust into giggles and likely start screaming (something Stiles has witnessed you do whenever Isaac would do something personal and pleasant for you). You excused yourself, exiting to the kitchen to get some water. As you poured yourself a glass, you also went to the hot cocoa bar and stole a snowflake marshmallow to nibble on.

“Are you okay?” you hear Isaac ask in the doorway. You turn to face him, softening at the look of concern coating his features.

“I’m fine,” you reassure. “It was just a perfect gift; I didn’t want to get too emotional.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Isaac whispered, looking down at an invisible spot on the floor. “I wanted to get you something that showed I cared.”

“I know you care,” you smiled, leaning against the counter.

“I mean, like how I care about you,” Isaac breathed, slightly shaky. You furrowed your brows as your brain struggled to catch up. Isaac looked at you, waiting for realization to set in. When it finally did, your eyes widened to the size of saucers, and if the counter didn’t support you, you would’ve passed out. Instead of saying something, you glanced at the kitchen doorway's opening where Isaac was standing.

“Mistletoe,” you whispered.

“Huh?” Isaac looked confused, glancing around before finally glancing up. Conjuring courage you didn’t always have, you stepped right up to him and pulled him down for a kiss right under the mistletoe. He made a noise of surprise before finally placing his hands on your waist and kissing you back.

“Happy holidays, Isaac,” you smiled, pulling away and looking up at him from under your lashes. His hand cradled your cheek before kissing you again, this time with the confidence of a boy who found his footing. You melted into his embrace, arms wrapping behind his neck and burying in his hair. One of his hands held the small of your back while he preserved your jaw, deepening the kiss. You let out a happy sigh as you let Isaac kiss the living daylights out of you as you thought to yourself:

This is the best Secret Santa ever.

#ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #christmas #holidays #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #daniel sharman #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf holiday #my writing

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flappingdragon · 2 months

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IsaFer Special: “Happy Easter, Lucifer”

A/N: I know this is different from my usual post, but I just had to write this. I love these two a lot and if you want to know more, you can check out captainai’s blog below. I hope you enjoy btw! I had a lot of fun writing this even if it is a bit late 😅

Characters: Lucifer, Isabella (OC)

Pairing: IsaFer (Isabella x Lucifer)

Rating: ⚠️Explicit/NSFW⚠️

For: @captainai-47 (I hope you like it!)

Tags: Bottom/Sub Lucifer, Top/Dom Isabella, magical strap-on, fluff and smut, short drabble, light Dacryphilia, light teasing, rough sex, praise kink, overstimulation, etc.

. . .

“Come on, hurry up! I have to get my daily log in streak and I’m going to miss it if this takes any longer!”

“Would you shut it? No one cares, Levi.”

“Aww, don’t be like that Satan~ Today is Easter, a holiday where you’re supposed to have fun and celebrate!”

Beelzebub nodded while munching on a few leftover cookie desserts.

“Not everyone has the same way of celebrating. So just leave Levi to his loser, otaku life.” Mammon pushed Levi’s shoulder.

“Would you all just cooperate and look at the camera?” Lucifer scolded behind said camera that he was fidgeting with for the past five minutes.

Isabella chuckled. “Don’t be too harsh, Lucifer. It’s Easter, cut them a bit of slack.”

Isabella was right in the middle of them all, waiting for Lucifer to set up the camera so Diavolo can have his annual Easter photo.

“Hahaha! Lucifer! Sorry I’m late, traffic was horrible. How’s everything going?”

Speaking of the devil…

Diavolo strutted in, immediately going to stand by Lucifer’s side, and placed a hand on his shoulder with a wide, bright smile on his face.

“Ah, Diavolo. You made it just in time. I finished with the camera and was about to call you.” Lucifer looked away from the camera and turned to look at the Demon Prince.

“Perfect! Let’s not keep everyone waiting then, shall we?” The prince motioned towards the group and Lucifer nodded.

Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos filled in the empty spots in the back.

Isabella was to the right of Lucifer while Diavolo was to the left and behind him. Barbatos was opposite of Diavolo, to the right of Isabella. Everyone else filled in the space.

Isabella looked at Lucifer and slung her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

Lucifer smiled and leaned into her touch.

“Ready?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes!” The group replied in union.

And with a few seconds to get situated, Lucifer snapped his fingers out of camera view and a bright, white flash filled the room.

When everyone recovered from the flash, Diavolo was the first one to rush to the camera, Barabtos and others following closely behind.

Once Diavolo had the picture in his hands, he held it up to the light and laughed. “It’s perfect as always! Thanks everyone!”

Isabella chuckled as Lucifer sighed.

Here it comes…

“I have a feast ready at the Demon Lord’s Castle for anyone who wants to come.”

One of the brothers complained that Beelzebub was drooling and Diavolo laughed.

Isabella already knew where this was going. And soon enough, they were all sitting down at the table in the great mess hall at the Demon Lord’s Castle.

The brothers were chatting about their daily muses and battling to keep their food away from Beelzebub, who was desperately trying to stuff more in his mouth than he could fit.

Diavolo listened intently and laughed along with them while Barabtos stayed relatively quiet, tending to the Prince’s needs.

Next to Isabella was Lucifer, who had his brows furrowed. He sighed and took a sip of demonous from his wine glass. Isabella could tell he was exhausted.

With planning for the event, dealing with his brothers, and whatever Diavolo tasked him with, the last week was taking its toll on him. She couldn’t help but feel sad from the way his lips contorted into a frown.

I’ll be sure to fix that tonight, she thought with a smile.

Isabella brought her hand to land on top of Lucifer’s. The demon paused and looked towards her before entangling their hands together and squeezing, smiling.

Isabella leaned in to whisper in Lucifer ear. “Gorgeous.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the flush of Lucifer’s cheeks.

Yes, she’ll happily dedicate this night to him.

. . .

“I-Isa!”

Isabella leaned in and kissed Lucifer’s jawline. “I know, I know. You’re doing such a good job, Luci.”

Isabella continued her thrusts, watching the way Lucifer’s body shivered under her.

Lucifer’s chest rose with each pant he made, his nipples begging for attention. Isabella watched as tears of pure, overstimulated bliss trickled down Lucifer’s cheeks. It filled her with pride. To know that her movements caused such a feeling to such an extent made her desire burn brighter.

She sped up her thrusts, enjoying the way Lucifer whined and clawed at her back.

“I-I can’t! I-Isa! Please!”

Isabella knew better than to stop. If she did, she would have to deal with a very upset Lucifer. So instead, she hushed him and kissed his lips.

“You’re doing so great, Luci. You’re doing such a good job.” She praised him, her words true to their meaning. She was so proud of him for taking all of her, yet holding out this long.

She kissed his neck and reached for Lucifer’s untouched erection and started to stroke him to the timing of her thrusts.

“Cum for me, Luci.”

And he did.

Lucifer arched his back and moaned Isabella’s name, climaxing onto his chest as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Isabella wasn’t too far off. She kissed away his tears and started to truly ruin him.

It wasn’t long before she choked out a moan of her own and emptied her load into him.

Yet despite for how long they were having sex, Isabella’s recovery was quick. She panted as she pulled out, trying to regain her breath.

“Lucifer? Are you alright?” She asked, checking over Lucifer’s body to see any signs of harm.

“Mmmhhh…”

Isabella smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Did I go too hard?” She whispered as she stroked his hair away from his face.

Lucifer shook his head and held her closer. She understood the command.

Getting onto her back (and pulling Lucifer with her), she quickly, yet awkwardly, managed to get the strap-on off, lightly setting it somewhere safe. Lucifer was now resting his head on her chest, his eyes closed and his arms tightly secured around her torso.

“Would you like to clean up before resting?” She asked.

“Mmm…” Lucifer squeezed her tighter.

A no, then. She nodded.

Isabella rested one hand on Lucifer’s back while the other ran through his hair. She traced circles onto his back as she kissed his head, soothing him into an easy slumber.

And once she knew he was asleep, she too could now close her eyes and rest peacefully, knowing that the love of her life is now safely in her arms.

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year

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We know JK is so bothered about a friend peeling perila leaf for his partner. He can't trust his partner even with that simple thing, so should we even talk about intimate choreography, living with producers, going for weeks long foreign trips ? You are saying a man who can't stand a simple perilla leaf peeling is cool with the above things?

No. He wasn't

He wasn't okay with any of that anon. Like, not even a little bit. I think we have witnessed satellite Jeon for so long that we have forgotten what it actually means. JK always wanting to be next to Jimin, Jimin having a calming effect on JK, JK gravitating towards Jimin when sad, satellite Jeon means Jimin is JK's person. It means Jimin is more than just his boyfriend, he is his safe space. JK needs him. He doesn't just want him, he doesn't just love Jimin, he needs him.

Jikook live together, yeah? And this is after all members used to live in one house for years. So they've done nothing but be around eo for over 10 years. AND YET what happens when any content is released?

We have them backstage walking from point A to B together

We have them sitting and standing next to eo all the time

We have JK displacing members to be next to Jimin

We have JK following Jimin

We have them leaving premises together

We have them cheating to be on the same team

We have them staying up all night drinking alone together

We have them practising group choreos together

We have them hanging out at each other's rehearsals.

And all this happens after they left the same house and will go back to sleep in the same bed at the end of the day once they're done filming. When I call them interdependent... I mean they are interdependent.

Jimin is JK's safe space I'm pretty sure this has been established by how hard satellite Jeon works sometimes.

He failed. But he tried. Poor baby. 😪

What's my point you ask? My point is, JK has only known being with Jimin almost all the time. When they're good, of course. When they haven't fought and are giving eo space, JK only knows how to have Jimin with him at all times. And this has been the case for years. Then solo era comes along and Jimin moves out for a while, and even though I'm sure he made time for JK, it just wasn't enough.

JK went from waking up to Jimin, seeing him everyday, to seeing him what, thrice a week? Once a week? Who knows? Either way, his Jimin time had been cut considerably short and satellite Jeon was not handling it very well. Add that to the fact that they are supposed to lay low, can't be seen out together in public hanging out like they used to before.. and it was maybe a bit too much for JK.

So no anon, JK was not cool with any of the above things that you listed. We all saw it for ourselves. Coming live without permission and being unapologetic about it. First sign of defying the company. Coming live all the time coz he was bored and needed company. The drinking on every live even though he wasn't allowed to. Deleting insta and making the company lose money coz of it while most prolly not giving a shit. And then white day happened.

😔

This couple holiday that JK has spent with Jimin every single year and once again his boyfriend is not just busy but out of the freaking country! So what happens? Mans breaks down. He's at his limit here, anon.

I only wanna talk to Jikookers rn coz they're the only ones that truly understand how seriously Jikook take this couple shit. Be it matching rings on the same finger, or matching clothes on couple holidays, or matching clothes more often than with other members. And it happens even now, btw.

From JK ending up with Dior merch

To Jikookers spoting that one red CK underwear that clearly didn't belong to JK

And it couldn't be more clear they shop together. This one is neither here nor there but I'm throwing it in here anyway coz why not? 😂😂😂

(They've always had very similar taste)

Then we have spending birthdays together, couple holidays, etc. They've done this forever. So for Jimin to be away on the last white day before they have to enlist and be away from eo for 2 years, I can imagine it kinda hit JK hard and may have been one of the things that got him emotional that day.

So no anon, JK was definitely not cool with any of the above things that you listed.

And we know this, because as soon as Jimin's promotions ended, not only did JK go MIA, but when he popped back up, mofo was fucking glowing

He looked absolutely incredible. There was shine in his eyes and in his smile. It was so good to see him that way. And that has continued to be the case in the lives that he did after that. Sad JK was gone. JK that needed to drink when he came live, was gone.

So now i ask; Was this visible change that happened once Jimin was no longer as busy a coincidence?

#if jikook isn't real then neither am i #jikook is real #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #minkook #jimin and jungkook #bts #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jikook theory #jikook theories #whipped jungkook #whipped jk #satellite jeon

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riddles-n-games · 5 months

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A few months ago, I had an anon request for Averyjameson headcanons about them spending time at True North for the holidays so here we are.

They arrive earlier than everyone else so they have a few days to themselves.

Jameson continues Avery's skiing lessons, teaching her a few tricks and some riskier ones when no bodyguards are around. Avery notices that he likes holding her waist a lot when he's teaching her a maneuver, sometimes longer than needed but she pretends she doesn't and secretly likes it when he does.

One day, they sneak out out of the lodge for an early morning game of Drop. Surprisingly, for her first time, Avery wins and manages to come back with barely a few scrapes compared to a certain someone. Jameson is all too happy, even if he's lost, but spends the rest of the day in bed or out in the hot tub with Avery tending to his wounds and giving him a kiss to the cheek.

When they're out on the trails, Jamie will sometimes sneak behind a tree, tug Avery along with him and have a quick make out sesh.

Before they come back in, both their faces are flushed red from the cold but Avery gets especially flushed, Jameson likes to pepper kisses along her cheeks and finish with a peck on her bright red nose. He calls her his Red-Nosed Reindear (cue eyerolling from his girlfriend).

They love to spend their evenings in front of the hearth wearing matching pjs and watching cheesy Hallmark movies. Jameson is actually a big sucker for them; it's his trash comfort.

Jameson makes hot chocolate and it's pretty amazing. It's his favorite holiday drink, as basic as it is. Avery doesn't judge him one bit for it but she prefers eggnog a little more.

Although they use the hot tub together, Avery has reverted to one piece bathing suits, she still isn't that comfortable in bikinis unless she has a pair of swim shorts on. Jameson is completely miffed by this as he really wants to see her in one again and even went so far as to sneak a red pair in her suitcase when she wasn't looking. She still hadn't put it on and he thinks maybe she hadn't found it (she has and knows that she didn't pack it but knows who did).

Throughout the holidays, he puts up a bunch of mistletoe and tries to catch her under it but ends up having to remove it because turns out, Libby is allergic.

For Christmas, Avery sets up a scavenger hunt for him to complete in order to find his present from her. It proves to be a bit difficult since they spend so much time together but when he's out on a solo ski, she takes a chance to hide another clue.

Jameson is ecstatic and pulls Avery along while he goes hunting, she merrily laughing at his antics. With every clue he finds, her smile gets bigger and bigger.

His gift from her is a card, the keys to the Chiron and tickets to the 24 Hours of Le Mans race in France for the following year. She also secured a personal day with the Aston Martin F1 team for him to participate with in training.

Her gift from him is a locket and bracelet set and a month of pottery classes since she's been wanting to actually try something new but keeps forgetting and because she's been very busy with work. He also got her a signed book series she'd been eyeing.

For New Year's, he surprises her with a visit from Toby.

At midnight, when they're about to drink spirits, she gifts him with a bottle of Jameson, laughing. He simply rolls his eyes.

They also do something similar to the Countdown Party in TFG, except, after midnight. For the first hour, they celebrate the New Year but after, they're a flurry doing all the most craziest things around the lodge; snowboarding at 1:00, drop challenge into the hot tub at 2:00, karaoke battle at 3:00, snowball fight in swimsuits at 4:00, reindeer sleighride at 5:00, etc.

Both of them get sick the following week and Nash is playing nurse because he was the only sensible one to not participate in Hour 4.

I hope you had fun reading. Stay tuned for a Christmas party fanfic with our favorite duo and fake dating Averyjameson au featuring a hot tub during the winter break story.

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #true north #hawthorne shenanigans #hawthorne headcanons #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #tig #thl #tfg

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mamaangiwine · 7 months

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Human societies stretching out their holidays is nothing new and historically apparent. This is because many holidays were, historically, seasonal observances- and there were A LOT more of them.

The preparation for certain events surrounding holidays could take weeks, if not months, and could be a source of communal pride- i.e parade costumes, community theater, flower arrangements, baking and cooking, etc.

What IS new, is late stage capitalism and the fact that many, if not all, of us work during the holiday seasons- and thus all of the preparation that goes into celebrating a holiday feels like a chore that we want to end. This combined with the fact that preparation is no longer a communal effort, but either- 1) something you're supposed to buy with money you don't have, or 2) something you're meant to do individually, in order to wow and impress- makes it feel like we are being ran to death for the culmination of one day that always seems to fall short of expectations.

Personally, I feel the decreasing number of holidays we celebrate, and the expectation that we shift gears directly after doesn't seem particularly empathetic to the very human desire for something more than the mundane.

It is completely normal for human beings to want to linger in the mindset that they have spent weeks cultivating and turning their hearts to, and it is completely normal for humans to want to continue to play and remain in a state of joy.

Like, those are really beautiful and admirable traits of human society.

#i wrote an even longer post about this yesterday #but i feel like this more succinctly explains my thoughts #magic #spirituality #holidays #celebration #folklore #history

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emberfrostlovesloki · 5 months

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Fear of Falling [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Center (@chanelmonamour) Left and Right (@foxy-eva)

Prompt: Emily and the non-BAU reader meet each other due to a game of truth or dare that does not turn out how either of them expected.

Pairing: Emily x female reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: Comfort/fluff/smut

Word Count: 13.3K

A/N: Hi, loves! First off this story is 18+ Minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content warnings are below the cut. I hope you had a fun and relaxed Christmas/Holiday season. The lovely @shqtteredcrystql1 requested a fic with a reader who had never dated a woman before and is not very experienced with intimacy. I loved this idea and jumped on it, and it grew from there. It seems I’m not able to write anything short anymore. I also included a lot of “pick your own” options, but you can just jump into the story and go back when you get to one of those options. If you like this, I might write a second part. Lastly, my requests are open. If you'd like to submit a request/idea, please see this post, CM Request Post (linked) With all that being said, I hope you all like this, it was so fun to write! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Love Levi -❤️

Content Warnings: Drinking [reader and Emily], unwanted physical touch, mention of workplace harassment, sex [oral, fem receiving (reader)]. If I missed any, please let me know.

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/c/h_ = your color hair

_y/f/c/l_ = your favorite color lipstick

_y/f/b/o/b_ = your favorite brand of bag

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent

_y/j_ = your job

_y/h/t_ = your home town

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_i/s/p/h_ = insert special person here (mom/dad/guardian/friend/mentor etc.)

_y/e/w/m/b_ = your experience with men before (if you don’t have any, then say that)

_w/y/d/w/ys_= what you’ve done with yourself before

The tap on _y/n_’s shoulder surprised her. _y/n_ was so absorbed in her own thoughts that the physical contact had her whip her head to the right. _y/n_ didn’t expect to see a very pretty, keen-eyed woman who was sporting a rather bashful smile on such a pretty face. Any annoyance _y/n_ had felt at being disturbed melted away and she relaxed as little. _y/n_ said, “Sorry, you scared me. Is there something I can do for you?” The woman flushed and replied, “Don’t be sorry. I should have said something before. I just wanted to give you this.” The woman handed her a small piece of paper that was folded into fours. Before _y/n_ could even ask the tall brunette her name, the woman was walking with a determined pace back toward the group she had come in with. With incredulity, _y/n_ opened the note. There were just a few words scribbled in semi-sloppy penmanship saying, “Emily Prentiss 512 - 198 - 4459. Call me if you’re interested/open.” The simple note had _y/n_’s head whip up once more and looked at Emily’s retreating figure. _y/n_ had noticed Miss Prentiss when she walked into the bar. _y/n_ thought, “I mean, how couldn’t you notice her? She’s the prettiest person in this joint.” _y/n_ had tried to not gawk for about ten minutes until she got a text that had soured her whole mood. Had pulled her mind away from the beautiful woman sitting at a table full of friends and laughter, unlike her own. Now _y/n_’s mind was fully back on Emily. Looking at Emily’s beautiful figure, _y/n_ thought that there was no way that someone so lovely would be marginally interested in her. Just as _y/n_ felt a spark of excitement, and hope after a very long week, it was snuffed out immediately when Emily got back to her table and a chorus of laughter erupted from her friends. _y/n_ didn’t see Prentiss’s face as she sat back down, or how flushed she was. All _y/n_ could interpret from that interaction was that she had, yet again, been the butt of someone else’s joke. _y/n_’s inner voice said, “What, you’re surprised? This isn’t new, _y/n_. Get a grip. It’s just the first time this has happened with a woman.” And though it was cruel, it was true. _y/n_ had been let down by lots of men before, but she had started to question if men were something she was even interested in. Not that she had much physical experience with men to begin with, but even with that being the case, _y/n_ had started to be drawn to women more. Those types of thoughts had always lingered in her mind, even since childhood, but she had suppressed them. Thinking, “That can’t be me. I must be making it up.” But the more, _y/n_ interrogated those thoughts, the more she realized she had feelings for women were just as strong, if not stronger as those she held for men. What this all meant, _y/n_ wasn’t sure, but her encounter with Emily did have her feeling very good about her chances. The bartender was perceptive to _y/n’s disappointment and asked, “You look like you need another drink, sweetie. What can I get you?” _y/n_ looked at him with half-blurred eyes from tears and said, “The strongest, cheapest thing you’ve got. Keep ‘em coming.”

While this was all transpiring, Emily was blushing like a mad woman. The young lady who she had given her number to was pretty. There was a look about her, a sort of glow that permeated the space she sat near. If she wasn’t with Derek, Spencer, JJ, and Garcia, Emily would have happily planted herself next to the woman and basked in her glow for hours. But Prentiss, for heaven’s knows why, had agreed to play truth or dare with the members of the team. It was the moment that Derek had suggested the game that Aaron and Rossi agreed it was time for them to head out. Once their superiors were gone. Morgan smiled and said, “Alright, we draw straws to see who gets to ask the first question. Remember, you get to pick truth or dare, but once you’ve chosen, you’re locked into that choice.” Everyone nodded in agreement. Penelope had drawn the short straw which let her ask the first question. The questions and dares had started simple like asking about small embarrassing stories or minor challenges for the dares, but as the drinks flowed, the conversation had gotten more personal. There had been two rounds with Emily picking dare each time, and she wasn’t planning on stopping now. As much as she loved her friends, the team didn’t need to her about her sex life or dating woes. Revealing any of those details would only expose how lonely she had been for the last four months. So when it came down to her turn again, with JJ asking the question, Emily happily said, “Dare.” JJ had been expecting this and planned her dare well, saying, “Give your phone number to the most attractive person in this bar right now.” Emily’s eyes widened at the challenge. It was the best one yet. Derek doing push-ups in the corner was not nearly as interesting as making Emily pick the most attractive person in a bar. Emily shot JJ a small look. Just last week she and the empathetic media liaison had been talking about dating and JJ’s upcoming engagement party. Emily had revealed to JJ that she hadn’t even tried seeing anyone for months. That she’d slightly given up on the dating scene. JJ’s dare was a soft push to try again. The glow from the woman at the bar had drawn Emily’s attention again, and Prentiss pulled out a small notepad, tore out a page, and wrote a quick message. Emily had never had success with giving her number to people, but heck, she didn’t see how it could hurt now. The interaction with the stranger was quick, but whoever she had given her number to, was so beautiful with her _y/c/h_ and _y/f/c_ lipstick. Even though it was less than a minute-long interaction, Emily felt like some of the stranger's warmth had rubbed off on her. As Emily made it back to the table, the group cheered her on. Little did they know, their claps and laughter were having such a negative effect on the woman sitting at the bar and looking at Emily’s turned back with a deep sense of longing.

A half-hour later, the BAU members had sobered up considerably and planned on heading out. As they all got out of their chairs, Derek looked over to the bar and said to Emily, “You might want to reconsider accepting messages for that girl you gave your number to.” Prentiss quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Before she could ask, Derek took her shoulder and turned her one-eighty degrees to face the bar. It took a microsecond for Emily to see the aforementioned woman at the bar laughing at some guy's joke. As Emily looked closer, the man had his large splotchy hand on the small of the woman’s back. Worse still the guy started slipping his hand under the back of the woman’s shirt. That was enough for Emily to want to step in. Something, be it intuition or personal experience, told Prentiss that if this lovely woman was sober, she’d have told the guy invading her privacy off minutes ago. As Emily stepped forward, Garcia asked, “Do you want me to wait for you?” Prentiss nodded her head no and said, “I’ll take an Uber back. Thanks for picking me up, Penelope.” Garcia smiled and said, “Of course baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emily nodded and turned, but Penelope stopped her once more by saying, “And Emily, don’t bite his head off. I don’t think Hotch would appreciate that.” Prentiss gave her friend a small, reassuring smile before turning on her heel and moving quickly to the bar.

Once Emily had reached the bar, she stepped between the man and the woman. Before the man could protest, Emily said, “Hey sis. Sorry, I lost you. Collin talked my ear off at the restaurant. You should have called me and told me you moved to a bar. I would have joined you a half-hour ago.” Emily mentally crossed every part of her body that could be crossed, and some parts that couldn’t, that her ploy would work on the man breathing heavily behind her. There was a tense minute before the man slipped away and back to the upstairs section of the bar. When the creep had gone, the woman turned her head toward Emily. Her cheeks were severely flushed and the woman said, “Good job, you had your laugh and white knighted. You can leave me alone in my misery now.” Emily’s brow furrowed a bit at the comment. She got the “White Knight” bit; she had swooped in like some kind of savior, but Prentiss didn’t like the way that guy had been touching the inebriated woman in front of her. But the bit that she didn’t understand was the laughing bit. Emily hadn’t laughed at the woman. The added comment about misery had Prentiss look at the woman more closely. _y/n_ kept Emily’s gaze. She might be upset, but that didn’t mean she was going to miss out on looking at someone as radiant as Emily. Even if she’d made fun of her, Emily was still brilliant. _y/n_ reasoned, “When am I going to get to see someone so pretty again? Might as well enjoy it.” The fact that _y/n_ was drunk was also helping.

While the yet unnamed woman looked at Emily, the profiler took a closer look at her face. It seemed the cheerful facade from a few minutes earlier had slid off like bad veneers. The woman did look miserable. As Emily looked at her, she could see the apathy in the woman’s eyes. The dark circles from lack of sleep or stress. Prentiss asked, “Why did you say I was laughing at you? Is that what’s making you so sad?” Emily felt an odd desire to comfort the woman in front of her. To understand where the look of resigned desperation was coming from. _y/n_ sniffled and said, “Well you know. Go up to someone, get their hopes up, make them think that they’re something, and then go back to the table with your friends and have a big old laugh about it. Like ‘Hahaha Good one, Emily, I bet she bought that. Like I’d touch that with a ten-foot pole.’” _y/n_ was crying now, feeling re-humiliated.

As Emily heard the story of JJ’s dare from the woman’s perspective, her face fell. She hadn’t meant her giving her number to come off as some kind of cruel prank, and Emily said, “Hey, …. Um, what’s your name?” _y/n_ murmured, “_y/n_,” into a napkin, as she wiped at her nose which was now unbecomingly dripping due to the crying. Emily placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder and said, “_y/n_. I am so, so sorry if me and my friends' actions felt like we were mocking you. Treating you like a game.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, and with a sharpness in her voice, she said, “Well what was it then? Because it certainly felt like one to me.” Emily wondered how to phrase her next response. She felt horrible for making _y/n_ feel this way. In all honestly, Prentiss thought about lying and saying that her friends had just made a joke when she got back to the table, and everyone had laughed at the right time. _y/n_ was drunk enough that she wouldn’t remember the lie in the morning. But Emily didn’t believe in starting relationships, even friendships based on a lie. Emily took a deep breath and said, “Let me tell you what happened, please?” _y/n_ nodded that she was listening, even as her face still burned in shame.

Emily swallowed once before saying, “My friends and I were pretty tipsy already. We decided to play truth or dare.” This had _y/n_ freeze, because it fucking confirmed that it had been a game. Emily continued anyway. “I’d been going on all night about being lonely and crap and then you walked in, and I kind of stopped talking. I was just captivated by you.” Prentiss remembered how Spencer had had to tap her to get her attention away from _y/n_. Derek had teased her, “Someone caught your eye, Em?” To which she had blushed furiously. Derek then said, “You should give her your number you know.” That was where JJ had gotten the idea for her next dare from. Emily blinked and said, “Well my friends had seen how I’d reacted to your very presence, and my friend dared me to give my number to the the most attractive person in the room. And that was you. I swear that my friends didn’t mean it as a joke. I didn’t mean it as a joke. You are the most pretty person in his building, on the block, in the whole city, I swear.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, eyes, still red, and asked, “Then why did they laugh when you got back?” As _y/n_ reflected, given the new context, perhaps she had been overthinking again. But that didn’t explain the laughter.

Prentiss sighed and said, “I have a bit of a tough guy reputation at work. It’s unusual for me to be so nervous about something. That’s why they laughed.” A hint of understanding came to _y/n_’s eyes and she said, “Why would you be interested in me? I’m nobody special.” Emily patted _y/n_’s hand and replied, “_y/n_, I know I don’t know you at all, but you’re certainly not a nobody. I think you’re far from nobody.” _y/n_ blinked back fresh tears and said, “Well you’re the first person to see me like that in a long time. I’m sorry I’m so emotional. This is so embarrassing. I think I’ll go home.” _y/n_ really felt like getting under her heavy covers and sleeping for two months, hoping to wake up and have her whole life changed, and particularly to forget tonight.

Emily nodded, getting out of her chair to make room for _y/n_. Prentiss wasn’t sure _y/n_ had really sobered up enough to drive or even call a cab, so she was going to ensure that _y/n_ got back home, wherever that was, safe. Once _y/n_’s feet hit the ground, she listed forward. Emily could immediately tell that _y/n_ would need help getting home and said, “_y/n_, let me call you an Uber or a Lyft. You shouldn’t be trying to drive after, well, after tonight I think.” _y/n_ brushed Prentiss off and said, “I just live two blocks down. I didn’t drive here. I’ll be fine.” The false cheeriness was back and this didn’t make Emily feel any better. The agent replied, “Well, it’s good to hear that you’re not driving, but can I walk you back to your place? Just to your front door.” Emily knew this wasn’t like her, but she wouldn’t just let _y/n_ walk out of the bar while she was still pretty sloshed. Furthermore, Emily still felt bad about the dare. The unintended impact it had had on _y/n_ seemed to weigh Prentiss down. After a moment, _y/n_ nodded and slurred, “Yeah, sure.” Emily let out a small breath of relief. The pair moved out of the bar, and _y/n_ led the way on unshakey feet. Emily ended up having to keep _y/n_ up a few times, as they walked down the two blocks. As _y/n_ took a left at a red light, the luxury houses came into view. Prentiss knew the area was rich, but not that rich. Emily looked over at _y/n_ and gently, trying to be sensitive, asked “Are you sure this is where you live?” _y/_ scoffed and said, “Listen, I’m no Daisy Buchannan, alright. One of the older ladies who lives in the neighborhood had a mother-in-law suite that she never uses. She rents it out. I was lucky enough to find the advertisement before anyone else. I don’t think she understands inflation. I barely pay anything for it. I do help her with her yard when she asks me to make up for it. I get lucky because I could never afford it at full price.” After that, there was a soft silence as they walked one more block. Emily assumed the drinks had _y/n_ speaking so candidly. It wasn’t something Prentiss would do with a stranger. Even a hot one. At the end of the street _y/n_ stopped at a little gate that had an old-looking lock on the side. Emily watched as _y/n_ fished through her bag and produced a set of keys that jingled like a bell as _y/n_ attempted to find the right one. When _y/n_ had, she shakily put it in the lock, but her fingers trembled and she dropped the keys into a small dirty puddle on the red brick sidewalk. This happened once more before Emily stepped in and unlocked the gate for _y/n_. Prentiss put her hand on the small of _y/n_’s back and led her over the uneven stone path that went to a very small house that was in the shadow of a huge art deco style mansion. Suddenly the reference to The Great Gatsby made sense. _y/n_ didn’t even try for the two locks on her door. Instead, she found the right key and handed it to Emily to unlock. The brunette easily opened the door and helped _y/n_ to the couch in the space. She turned on the lamp on a small table. With the cozy space illuminated by the soft lamplight, Emily moved back to the couch and asked, “Do you have everything? Your ID, wallet, cell phone, or anything else important?” _y/n_ pulled her _y/f/b/o/b_ into her lap and rifled through it again. When _y/n_ pulled out all of the things Emily had said, there was awkward silence which Emily broke by saying, “I’m gonna head out now. I’m sorry again for tonight.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as the tall woman quickly left the room like this was the most normal thing that had happened to her this week. _y/n_ sighed in resignation and just sat for a few minutes once Prentiss was gone.

When _y/n_ had composed herself, she moved to her bedroom, stripped, and moved to the bathroom to take a hot shower. As _y/n_ stepped under the shower head and lathered _y/f/s_ed soap over her body, she reflected on how the night had gone. Embarrassingly. Almost as embarrassing as when she’d been invited to a fraternity dance and then found out the day that her date had asked someone else behind her back. It had been humiliating. This night had been the same, except on this occasion, it had been her fault as she had partially misinterpreted the situation. Not that the situation was totally easy to understand, but still, it was awkward. When _y/n_ had taken off her tweed pants, Emiy’s phone number fell out of the pocket. _y/n_ had considered crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash, but her heart had told her to keep it in case she ever got the nerve to text Emily. Given how the night had gone, she doubted it would ever happen. But despite her negative attitude, _y/n_ folded the phone number in two and put it in the top drawer of her bedside table. As _y/n_ finished her shower, she hoped she would wake up feeling better or having forgotten the whole evening. Once the shower was over, _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas, and slumped onto the bed and under the covers. She turned off the light and quickly fell asleep.

Unfortunately, in the morning, neither of her wishes had come true. Her head pounded from a hangover, and _y/n_ remembered the whole fiasco with Emily too. _y/n_ groaned and got up. She stumbled to the bathroom and drowned a glass of tap water and two aspirin. She’d overslept and she would need to rush to get to work on time. _y/n_ just barely made it to _y/j_. This had been happening more and more often recently. At the beginning of the year, _y/n_ had finally landed a job that she was excited about. But as it turned out with most things that seemed too good to be true, the job had ended up being more of a pain. There was a high turnover rate, and _y/n_ ended up taking on projects and work that weren’t under her purview. Because of this, her performance plummeted due to not being trained on her new tasks. And another problem had come up as well. Her manager, who had seemed cool and understanding in her three interviews had turned out to be more of a bother than a help. He had started making small comments about her appearance, and then he’d started offering to take her out to dinner or drinks, and he’d become more and more insistent about getting to know her better outside of work hours. Things hadn’t escalated too far. That was until the previous day. The older man had called her into a private meeting and threatened to cut her pay if her performance didn’t improve. And he’d personally told her he would train her on the things that she didn’t know, but only if she’d go with him to drinks that weekend. _y/n_ had wrestled all day with whether to contact HR about the man’s unwanted advances. Now that things had escalated to threats it seemed justified. However, she was so new to the job, and HR and everyone seemed to love her boss. That had led to a personal crisis, thus the night of drinking at the bar. As _y/n_ reflected, she steeled herself for the day and just decided for the moment to deal with it. To do her job, ignore everything and everyone, and solely work. _y/n_’s bosses harassment and threats, along with _y/n_’s avoidant behavior went on for another week. The man remained relentless. That afternoon he had even touched _y/n_. His hand trailed it down to her lower back. The sensation made _y/n_ want to scream. The tension built for the week and _y/n_ let everything in her personal life fall apart, including her house.

That Friday she had a panic attack in the bathroom and decided enough was enough. She went to HR and told them about what had been happening. About her discomfort and the growing threats. _y/n_nwas eternally grateful to be taken seriously and the personnel team took her statement and promised to look into the matter discreetly. When _y/n_ got home that day, she decided it was finally time to clear up the mess she’d left behind. It took a good four hours with her bedroom being the last thing she decluttered, swept, and put back together. The top drawer of her nightstand had accumulated lots of junk and receipts, and _y/n_ quickly moved to throw them in the small trashcan by her bed. However, a folded slip of paper made it out of her hands and fluttered to the floor. _y/n_ sighed as she threw away the rubbish and bent down to grab the last piece of trash to get rid of it. _y/n_ didn’t recognize it and unfolded it. It was Emily’s note from a few weeks back. The instant _y/n_ saw the neat handwriting, Emily’s bright face flashed into her vision. Prentiss’s dark eyes and the way she spoke with a confidence _y/n_ lacked. The beautiful woman’s image seemed burned into _y/n_’s mind. Of course, she remembered the embarrassing parts of the evening as well, but something about Emily Prentiss had engrained itself in _y/n_’s head. _y/n_ held the paper in her palm and sighed. She moved to the kitchen and started cooking a simple meal. She sipped on a glass of wine and pondered if it was too late to text the woman back. _y/n_ realized that she’d never get Emily out of her mind unless she did something about it. _y/n_ pulled up her phone. She started a new message and input Emily’s number. _y/n_ tapped the counter before finally texting:

Hey, Emily. This is _y/n_ from that bar on 6th Street. I’m really sorry if I made the end of your evening awkward or if you had other plans. You were nice to me, and I want to thank you for that. I hope you're having a good start to your weekend. - _y/n_.

With that, _y/n_ hit the send button and then promptly moved her phone into her bedroom, not wanting to see if she got a response. Instead, she moved back to the kitchen, stirred her two pans with a wooden spatula, and metaphorically patted herself on the back. She’d done a brave thing, which for _y/n_ was not something that came easy to her. In fact, over the last few weeks, she’d been finding herself doing more and more brave things, and this was the latest of them. _y/n_ didn’t particularly like change, confrontation, or anything that would have made her stand out in any way. _y/n_ hadn’t always felt good about herself, and adding a spotlight to her actions was the last thing she wanted. But moving to D.C. from _y/h/t_ had been a change she had hoped would push her out of her comfort zone. It might have taken about eleven months, but _y/n_ was finally beginning to think, that maybe, it was happening. After dinner and some light reading, _y/n_ moved to her room. It was a bit early for her to go to bed, but she felt the call of the mattress. _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas and moved under the covers. Before going to bed, _y/n_ grabbed her phone to set an alarm. She’d sleep in, but she didn’t want to waste the whole next day in bed. As her phone blinked on. There was a text from a number she didn’t know. With her heart skipping a beat, _y/n_ unlocked her phone and opened her messages. There was a simple reply to her previous text to Emily. It read: “Hey, _y/n_. It’s good to hear from you. Unfortunately, work has me busy and out of town, but I hope you’re doing well and feeling okay. Keep your head up. Emily.” Although the text was short and simple and didn’t quite open the dialog for further conversation, that hadn’t exactly been _y/n_’s goal. The goal was doing the hard thing, and it had been done and there had been a nice reply as a cherry on top. So, with that, _y/n_ set her alarms and went to sleep contented.

Emily looked down at the hard ice under her. It was glossy. So glossy that she could see her reflection almost. The sound of the other skaters' laughter and skates against the ice made her sigh. The ice had just been smoothed by the Zamboni. Emily had known it was a bad idea to go out on the ice when it was so slick. However, she had waited a whole half-hour for Benette from Hinge to show up. He had seemed nice, He had blue eyes and a kind smile. One that seemed normal enough to be someone real and not a catfish. They had texted for two weeks and spoken on the phone once before he’d offered to take her on a date to the ice skating rink. The idea had been a new one to her. Most of the people who she went out with on-first-but-never-second-dates, took her to bars or dinner. The prospect of not drinking or eating had been refreshing, and Benette had been original, which put him on the plus side of things. However, the fact that he was so late began to irk Prentiss. When the half-hour mark came and went, Emily gave up on the man in private equity, rented her skates herself, and ventured out on the ice. She was already here, why not take a lap or two? She had only made it halfway around the rink before she ate it. The ice against her legs reminded Emily that she wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was sure there would be a bruise on her hips in the morning. And when she got to work on Monday, Derek would ask why she was limping and she’d have to explain. Then Morgan would laugh and gently tease her about being a geriatric, and by that point, she would have forgotten how her second date in a row had stood her up. Emily rested her hand on the frozen water before getting ready to get up onto unstable, cold, wet, legs. Before she had a chance, a skater, who had been moving quite quickly over the ice stopped neatly in front of her. There was a pair of white skates and _y/f/c_ leg warmers.

After a second, Emily looked up to see who exactly was offering her a hand up. From the attire, she highly doubted it was Benette unless he had a very big secret to tell her. But when Emily’s eyes settled on the person in front of her, she recognized the face. It took a second before she realized she knew that face. At this point, Emily was back on her feet thanks to the hand up, and only then did she say, “Hey _y/n_. Fancy seeing you here.” At this point, she was blushing and slightly embarrassed. _y/n_ smiled at her and said, “Hey, Emily. I never really expected to see you again. Are you alright? That looked like a nasty fall.” _y/n_’s comment only had Prentiss blush further, and she said, “Oh, well, you know, I’ll probably be sore for a week, but nothing’s broken.” _y/n_ noticed the flush on Prentiss’s face. _y/n_ didn’t take her hands off of Emily. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to worry that Emily might fall. Eventually, their hands grew warm, and they dropped them. _y/n_ looked over at Prentiss and asked, “Are you waiting for someone? I’ve been here for about an hour, and well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been here for a while. Sorry If I’m being nosy.” Emily sighed and said, “I was waiting for someone, but I don’t think they’re coming. That’s pretty depressing, isn’t it.” _y/n_ tipped her head and said, “I’m sorry. And sorry that you had to be out of town for work during the holidays. That always reeks.” Emily nodded. The case had been bad. Plus being stood up was never fun, but it was nice to see _y/n_ again. Nice to know that _y/n_ had made it past their shared night in the bar and their brief text exchange. Emily had forgotten how pretty _y/n_ was, but being in front of her again, she felt the unfamiliar pull toward _y/n__y/n_ pushed off the rink wall and moved to Emily’s side. Emily attempted to move forward, but she very shortly after almost fell again. Because of this fact, _y/n_ had stayed close by. As Emily nearly fell, _y/n_ skated in front of her and took her hands firmly. Steadying her. Emily watched with some surprise as _y/n_ skated backward with ease as _y/n_ kept her steady. After a minute of moving along the wall, _y/n_ asked, “Would you like me to let you go?” Prentiss considered it for a second and then said, “I’d rather you didn’t. If you don’t mind.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I don’t mind.” Emily nodded.

There was a short silence before Emily said, “So, um, are you feeling better since the last time I saw you?” _y/n_ flushed thinking of the last time they’d seen each other, but _y/n_ had grown since then, and replied, “I have actually. Well, at least I haven’t gotten so slooshed that I can’t tell when a pretty woman tells me that I’m the pretty one and that I matter for some inexplicable reason.” The bluntness with which _y/n_ made the statement had Emily chuckle and she said, “Well it’s true. You are pretty, and you do matter.” _y/n_ felt a flush bloom over her face, and to divert the attention from her, _y/n_ asked, “So, what asshole decided to stand you up? I might just give them a kick in the teeth.” Where this confidence was coming from, _y/n_ couldn’t say, but the small shine in Emily’s eyes made it all worth it. Prentiss sighed and replied, “Hinge. I should learn that my luck with dating apps is cursed. I’ve been stood up on four dates from Tinder and Bumble in the last three months. Talk about a track record. Also, you’re very good at staking backward. If that was me, I’d be on my ass already.” _y/n_ chuckled and said, “Well they’re all idiots for standing you up. And the ice skating thing, that was more of my _i/s/p/h_’s idea. You know, every kid needs a hobby, and they stuck me in skating. It wasn’t a very practical choice on their end. It’s not like I’m going to the Olympics or anything.” Emily smiled and replied, “Well, you say that, but it’s proving a very practical skill to me right now. And it’s gotta look cool if nothing else. My mother had me in language schools since I was five and then after all that, she had me practicing piano for three hours a day.” _y/n_’s eyes grew wider at the revelation. Emily Prentiss didn’t exactly seem like the type of person to just open up, but she had said something about her childhood, and perhaps Emily was simply reciprocating. After a beat, _y/n_ replied, “That sounds, lonely. Do you find either the languages or music skills still helpful to you?” Emily thought back to her first case with the BAU and how her Egyptian had helped the team. How it had bought her points with Gideon and Hotch. Of course, both men saw her for more than that after she’d become a permanent fixture on the team. Sometimes Emily wished she’d had more time with Agent Gideon. She felt like they could have been friends, but, the past was the past, and she let out a sigh before saying, “The languages come in handy when something comes up at work. However almost everyone in my department is multilingual, and if they’re not, well, I’ll just say that they make up for it with an abundance of talents in other areas. As for the piano lessons. Like most little girls and boys, I hated the practice. I gave it up in high school, and I regret that now. I have a keyboard at my place and if I ever find the time, I tinker, but not much more than that.” By the time Emily had finished talking, the pair had made it back to the opening of the rink. Prentiss had hardly noticed as she looked into _y/n_’s eyes and talked like they were friends. _y/n_ had made it easy to glide along the ice unafraid of falling or bumping into people, or worse, taking down some kid with her as she fell. _y/n_ stopped just beyond the opening, giving Emily a prime place to step out. However, Emily was hesitant to let go for a second, either from fear of falling or something else, she couldn’t say.

_y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “Would you like to go around another time?” It was the only reason _y/n_ could think of why Emily would still be holding her hands. Prentiss seemed to snap too, and replied, “Oh, no. thank you.” _y/n_’s face fell a little, But Emily was still looking into her countenance, and she was thinking that she did want to spend more time with _y/n_. Talking with her had been so calming. So easy. Like they were good friends who just hadn’t met yet. It took another second before Emily realized that she hadn’t shared the second part of her sentence aloud, and she blushed madly as she said, “But I’d like to hang out, maybe. Just someplace where I’m less likely to break a wrist or hip. There’s a cute coffee shop down the street if you’re down?” The words came out in a jumble, and Prentiss wondered why she was suddenly so bad at talking to women. Why did every attempt at flirting or a friendship with _y/n_ come off as vaguely insulting? She hadn’t dated a woman in a while, but Emily wasn’t that out of practice. It’s not like she’d been dating men in the recess. All Prentiss could do was wait and see how _y/n_ responded to yet another botched attempt at flirtation. After a second, _y/n_’s face broke out into a soft smile and said, “Yeah. I’d like that.” Emily beamed, and once she was off the ice, Emily helped _y/n_ step off the ice even though she clearly didn’t need her help. Emily asked, “Did you get a locker for your things?” _y/n_nodded and said, “Yes, right over there.” _y/n_ pointed to a row of lockers on the far side of the space. Emily’s purse and black boots were in a locker on the other side of _y/n_’s and they both moved in that direction chatting about the weather over the last week. A conversation that was easy to cut off when they both got to a place where they needed to split up for a second. Emily moved close to her locker and sat on the wooden benches taking off her skates. Emily moved to her locker and slipped the finicky key into her locker’s lock. She grabbed her shoes and zipped them up. The last thing she needed to do was sling her handbag over her shoulder, and then she’d go over to _y/n_ and they’d walk over to the coffee shop together. Just as Emily was walking over to _y/n_. She looked at the ground, trying to avoid the numerous puddles that spotted the ground. She didn’t want to get her leather Hermes shoes wet. However, the sound of _y/n_ shouting, “Hey, hey! Let go of it,” and then the sound of a sharp hand on flesh snapped Emily’s eyes up. Prentiss watched as the man ripped the purse from _y/n_’s hands, as _y/n_ moved her hands to her face which had just been hit. The fact that some punk had tried to and was now running away with _y/n_’s bag was bad, but the fact that the whippersnapper had hit _y/n_ had Emily running after him with a determination she would on a case. She flew past _y/n_ and tossed her purse over to the half-stunned woman to allow her to run unencumbered.

Emily’s footsteps pounded on the half-frozen ground. She deftly avoided the slick patches of ice that peppered the sidewalks and street. The vandal was not so lucky and took a few falls which slowed him down. The young man did make it past the crosswalk just before the warning hand popped up. The man had realized he was being followed and hoped to put some space between himself and the agent hot on his heels. Unfortunately for the thief, Emily was undeterred by the flashing orange hand and oncoming car. She wasn’t letting this punk get away with _y/n_’s things, or the fact that he had hit _y/n_ in an attempt to do so. Prentiss moved into the two-lane street and dodged a small Kia that honked at her furiously to get out of the way. She didn’t pay attention to the angry driver, as she made up some distance with the man. Emily felt her breath coming fast inhalations and exhilations as the man quickly, dangerously rounded a sharp corner in an alley full of trash and gunk. Prentiss was close enough to tackle the man, so she did. They both went down with a smack on the pavement, but the man had it worse as he went face-first into the street while Emily’s face and chest were padded by his legs. The man groaned, “Goddamn it. Where do you get off taking a guy down like that? Who the fuck are you anyway, J.I. Jane?” Emily smirked and said, “Who I am doesn’t matter. Maybe don’t try stealing shit in the open. Better yet, don’t try stealing anything at all.” Emily hauled the man up and toward a still police car that she had passed in her foot chase. Prentiss tapped on the window and flashed her badge. Thankfully didn’t take long for the officer to her statement and number for a follow-up call if he had more questions. _y/n_ watched as about twenty minutes later Emily came back into view. Her cream-colored pants looked dirty, like she’d rolled in some mud, but the smile on her face, as she held up _y/n_’s purse in triumph, had _y/n_ smiling as well. When Prentiss, who seemed to be out of breath, reached _y/n_ they both asked in unison, “Are you okay?” Emily repeated the question first and said, “Did that guy hurt you? Is your face alright?” _y/n_ nodded yes and said, “It’s fine, just a split lip is all. Nothing to write home about.” Even as _y/n_ said this, Prentiss looked more closely at _y/n_’s face, softly running her thumb over her mouth. _y/n_ cringed ever so slightly and let out a breath, as Emily’s warm hand brushed over her face, and the rush of warmth she felt as the brunette checked over her for any damage was something she hadn’t felt in months. The sensation was not unwelcome. When Prentiss had composed herself, _y/n_ gently brushed over her pants, trying to clean them a little, and see if Emily was hurt too. But the tall woman did not react. She just let _y/n_ fawn over her for a few minutes before Emily took _y/n_’s hands in hers saying, “I’m alright _y/n_, really. I just need to get these pants clean once I get home.” _y/n_ nodded, no longer in a daze from the events, but now by the woman in front of her. _y/n_ looked at her and asked, “How did you just do that, exactly? Are you often running down random pickpockets?” Prentiss chuckled and said, “Maybe. How about we talk about it over coffee? We seem to be continually interrupted by stuff, but I’m not going to let this stop us. Not even these dirty pants.” _y/n_ nodded and they exchanged purses and walked the short way to the quaint coffee shop named Doubles. Emily got them a seat and _y/n_ took her order of a flat white with vanilla. _y/n_ insisted on paying for her drink because she’d saved her purse. At the counter _y/n_ got her favorite winter drink and Emily’s. The line was shockingly short, and _y/n_ had their beverages in a few moments.

They sat in relative silence as they blew on their drinks and then sipped them with trepidation and fear that their mouths would be burned. As the drinks cooled, _y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “What is it you do exactly? You seem so capable. Like you could do anything in the world.” Prentiss hesitated. She wasn’t one to disclose her job easily, but when she looked at _y/n_, she felt the openness she had when they were on the rink, like old friends. And Emily said, “I work for the FBI.” _y/n_ seemed surprised and she said, “And I’m guessing it’s not the tax fraud department?” Prentiss laughed low, and replied, “Yeah, not tax fraud, that’s for sure.” _y/n_ thought for a second and asked, “When you said you were out of town for work, was that FBI-related?” Emily nodded and said, “Yeah it was. We kind of just get called in and we go where we’re needed.” _y/n_ reflected on what Emily had said about her childhood. It seemed like a controlled childhood, and now a demanding job, _y/n_ had to ask, “Do you enjoy it? Your work?” There was a tense pause before Prentiss sighed and said, “I do. I know I’m making a difference, in my way. Both to my team and to society. But we all have our regrets about work, don’t we?” _y/n_ nodded in agreement.

Her recent work affairs had tainted her image of the company as HR had contacted her manager and he’d made a big stink about the whole affair. He’d blamed _y/n_ for coming onto him and not the other way around. HR had taken her side of things in the end. There had been too much evidence to prove anything that _y/n_’s boss had said, but whatever the case was, it was still uncomfortable. Emily saw _y/n_ retreat into herself and asked, “What is it you do, _y/n_?” _y/n_ snapped out of her head and said, “Oh. Nothing important. Just _y/j. Nothing like what you do, I assure you.” Prentiss noticed her uncertainty, the way _y/n_ spoke down about herself again and said, “_y/n_. Your job isn’t any more or less important than mine. We all have to work in this economy unless you're an heiress or something. But as long as it doesn’t drive you crazy and you get paid then I think that’s enough.” There was a pause and Emily asked, “Do you enjoy it?” She couldn’t be sure, as _y/n_’s face shifted into an uncomfortable look. Prentiss quickly tacked on, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” _y/n_ sighed and replied, “I don’t mind talking about it. I’m just disappointed. I moved here a few months ago for this new job, and my boss turned out to be a real ass. It was a whole ordeal last month and the start of this month. I just lost the joy I had for the company I guess.” Emily frowned and said, “That sounds disappointing. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it more?” Emily realized that she was dancing around a potentially sensitive subject and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. _y/n_ shifted in her seat a bit and said, “It’s getting better actually. I’ve been trying to stand up for myself a bit more. To be honest I’ve been a bit of a doormat most of my life and I’m sick of it. I’m not quite at tackling a guy that steals my purse yet. I think that’s when you graduate from beginner-level non-doormat status. That’s why I’m lucky to have someone like you around. Even if it is serendipitously. But, maybe there are nicer things we can talk about?”

Emily smiled and nodded, acknowledging how open _y/n_ had been with her. However, she realized that having a lighter conversation would be more enjoyable. And they’d get to know each other better that way. So, for the next hour and a half, they talked about everyday things. Like the worst movie they’d seen that year, or the best album they’d listened to. What had made them laugh so hard that they’d cried. And by the end of the conversation that flowed with ease, as Emily asked _y/n_ if the bar on 6th street was her favorite, or if she just went there out of convenience because it was so close to her house, when Prentiss held out her hand on the table in front of her, and _y/n_ took it. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. _y/n_ and Emily finished their conversation and _y/n_ looked at the woman in front of her. She wasn’t sure what was going on. If this was flirting or friendship or something else entirely, but as things seemed to be wrapping down, _y/n_ didn’t want it to end. So _y/n_ asked, “Emily, would you want to do this again sometime? Like, sometime soon? I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I don’t have many friends, and talking to you, well talking to you is so easy.” Prentiss squeezed _y/n_’s hand slightly and replied, “Yes. I’d like that. Is there a day in the next two weeks that works well for you?” Emily was very happy that _y/n_ had asked, because if _y/n_ hadn’t, then she would have had to, and that somehow felt like pressing her luck. But _y/n_ had asked, and they agreed on a day, and then Emily explained how, due to her work schedule, she had to be very flexible with plans. And if she should have to take a rain check on their next meeting, that it had nothing to do with _y/n_ and everything to do with work. And, although if a statement like that had come from anyone else but the enigmatic Emily, she would have thought they were canceling on her already. But with Prentiss _y/n_ believed her. Or at least she wanted to believe her, and _y/n_ hadn’t had that kind of hope in anyone in a long, long time. So _y/n_ chose to believe Emily and see where it went from here. _y/n_ and Emily said their goodbyes until the next time, and Prentiss gave y/n_’s arm an affectionate rub just before she hopped into that taxi that would whisk her away like a sprite in the wind.

Both Emily and _y/n_ thought about the other on and off between the next time they would meet. To _y/n_ it all felt new. As she pondered their first and second meeting, _y/n_ contemplated how her stomach fluttered in a way it had in high school, but not since then. _y/n_ wondered if it was love, lust, or something secret thing that she’d not learned about yet that happened when one liked women. She also wondered if it was too fast to be falling head over heels for someone she barely knew. It felt like Twilight but make it homoerotic. _y/n_ wished she was more sure of herself. Wished she had the confidence to just be honest with herself. But for now, she was just happy to be seeing Emily again. And if things went well, which she hoped they would, then she would ask the most beautiful women she’d ever laid eyes on, what exactly it was that they were trying to be.

Even just as a friend, Emily Prentiss seemed like a good person to have on one’s team. Emily, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how a stranger had gotten her to drop her walls with no prompting, prodding, or intrusive questions at all. Prentiss’s mother had instilled in her, from an early age, a ‘personal none-disclosure policy, no matter what the personal cost.’ And the astute agent stuck to it for the most part. But _y/n_ had managed to weave her way past her barriers so easily, without even trying. And, as Emily thought about it, she realized that _y/n_’s not trying had been the key. If anything, she had been the one that had pressed _y/n_ for information, and _y/n_ had answered honestly. At least all of her tells had indicated honesty. So many of her previous lovers and would-be lovers had pressed and pressed, and pressed, like those accusing witches in Salem. But _y/n_ hadn’t done that. There was just a kindness to _y/n_ that seemed to permeate the air she inhabited. _y/n_ seemed to have a genuine desire to know her, but in a gentle way that didn’t make her feel like a thing being examined under a microscope. Her internal and external flaws were being picked apart one by one via vivisection. No. getting to know and being known by _y/n_ was like gentle hands running up her body, discovering every part of her. Letting herself be known.

Suddenly Emily felt flushed all over. She was sure she was red in the face because Derek had come up beside her with Garcia nearby and said, “What are you thinking about, baby girl?” Morgan had Emily nearly jump out of her seat, and she said, “Geeze Derek, you didn’t have to scare me to death.” Morgan laughed and said, “Well, if you’d been paying any attention, you’d know I called your name twice before speaking louder. What’s got your mind so busy? You have another hot date last night with a guy?” Morgan couldn’t help but notice Emily’s flushed state, and that her breathing had picked up ever so slightly. Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. Garcia, as if she were a profiler herself, commented, “She rolled her eyes, so it’s probably not a boy. Is it a girl? It could be that or someone who’s non-binary. Oh please Em, spill the beans. My love life is as dry and old bones right now, and I need someone vicarious to live through to make it through the drought.” Now Prentiss rolled her eyes because of Penelope’s antics. Emily had reigned in her straying thoughts and her flush. Morgan chimed in, “I’m siding with Garcia on this one. I haven't heard you complain about a bad date in ages Prentiss. You finally find someone worth your time?” Emily replied, “You know ya’ll two are the biggest gossip’s in this building, right?” Garcia grinned and said, “Guilty as charged. Now spill the tea.” Em sighed again and said, “Listen I don’t even know yet. This is very new and I’m trying to understand my own feelings about the whole situation. As for the gender of this person. I think that can wait. Last time I told you both the restaurant I had dinner with on a second date on Penelope had found that dude’s Insta by the afternoon, so I’m not making that mistake twice.” Before either Morgan or Penelope could protest, Hotch called the team into the conference room to debrief the newest case. It was a mercy for Emily, and she let her mind wander back to the image of her and _y/n_ being that close, or exploring a deeper intimacy together before she fully pushed it aside to focus on the case.

Emily was back in the David Copperfield Bar, the one on 6th that she’d met _y/n_ at. The last week had been rough. The case was a hard one, bumping right up to the Holidays. Then after that, she got word from her mother that she wouldn’t be able to visit her in London because her mom had to go to an emergency security council meeting in Brussels which had been a big bummer. Emily hadn’t seen her mom in over two years, and this was going to be her chance, but fate had other plans. Plans that even Emily was unaware of. She had found herself in _y/n_’s neck of the woods because she was doing some retail therapy. She’d bought a new dress which she wore out of the Prada. Rossi had offered for her to come and celebrate Christmas with him, but as the rest of the team was mostly away with family or friends, Prentiss felt that it was a little sad and had said no. So she had spent the holidays alone. That depressing fact was still catching up with her. As Emily sipped on a Cosmo, the doorbell jingled and she was surprised to see _y/n_ step inside and shake off some snow from a warm-looking coat. Her and _y/n_’s next meeting slash date was set for next week on Friday, and Emily hadn’t expected to see her again until this. But the sight was far from unwelcome.

_y/n_ noticed Emily too. _y/n_ moved across the mostly empty space to where she was sitting and said, “Well fancy seeing you here, Emily. Did something drag you to this side of town during the holidays?” _y/n_ couldn’t imagine a person like Emily drinking alone. There must be some other reason. Prentiss sighed and said, “No it’s just me. I was spending my Christmas money, as you can see.” She pointed to her Prada bag, and _y/n_’s eyebrows went up. _y/n_ jokingly asked, “Wow, if the FBI paying that well. I should consider a career change.” _y/n_’s joke didn’t seem to land and Emily still looked glum after. _y/n_ tipped her head to the side and said, “Mind if I join you after grabbing a drink?” Prentiss nodded yes, and _y/n_ was quick to grab her standard drink and then sit down across from the demure woman. After a few moments of silence, _y/n_, “What’s the matter, Emily? You seem so sad.” Emily looked into _y/n_’s empathetic eyes and sighed before saying, “It’s nothing really. I had a bad week at work and then I was supposed to fly out to see my mom but that got mixed up. I’m just throwing myself a pity party by having a cheap drink and having some retail therapy. I’ll be alright, _y/n_. I’m just going to finish this round, closeout, go home, and sleep for a solid eight hours. I’ll feel better then.” Emily was feeling sad, and she didn’t want to dampen _y/n_’s evening with her mood. However, _y/n_ worried about Emily a little. This wasn’t her confident, chipper self. _y/n_ replied, “Do you want to be alone tonight? You can come over to my place. It’s two days after Christmas. If you don’t want to be alone, you don’t have to be Emily.” The words came out of _y/n_ like water. Like they’d been there all along and they’d finally slipped out of her mouth for good. _y/n_ didn’t mind them, but they seemed like something someone far more confident than her would say. Emily similarly seemed taken aback, but mostly because it sounded so nice after all she’d been through that week. To be in _y/n_’s company felt like a balm. Prentiss said gently, “_y/n_, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to take time away from your life, or if you’ve still got friends or family around.” _y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’ve spent time with the people that matter to me. If I couldn’t see them in person then we called. And I managed to mostly avoid the people I hate. But my house is empty, and you’re welcome in it even if it’s just for an hour so you don’t feel alone.” Emily looked at _y/n_ and again there was no dishonesty in her countenance. Emily wasn’t sure if _y/n_ could tell a lie. And because she badly wanted to feel seen, Prentiss nodded a small yes. They both finished their drinks, and _y/n_ paid for both of them with Emily softly insisting to pay _y/n_ back, but it really didn’t matter either way.

The pair took their time walking to _y/n_’s house as the flurries floated down in soft waves that made a satisfying crunching sound beneath both _y/n_ and Emily’s feet. Neither spoke as neither knew what was going to happen once they got to _y/n_’s place. But they made it eventually and _y/n_ unlocked the gate and then the door and then she was turning on the lights and telling Emily, “Make yourself at home? Would you like something to drink? Some water or a glass of wine? I’ve got cold brew if you like that at nine p.m.” That finally got Emily to laugh as she took off her coat and rather unceremoniously slumped down on the couch. Hearing Prentiss laugh had _y/n_ turn her head back and say, “Now that’s the girl I know.” Hearing those words had Emily flush. She cleared her throat and said, “A glass of wine would be nice, _y/n_. Thank you for having me.” _y/n_ nodded, and as she poured two glasses red. _y/n_ set the glasses in front of them and then sat next to Emily. She sat so close that she could feel the heat radiating off the brunette beside her. They both took their glasses, gave them a small clink and Emily said, “To friends, we didn’t know we needed.” _y/n_ smiled, placing a hand on Emily’s thigh. _y/n_ took a small sip of wine and then asked, “Is that what we are Emily? Friends?” Prentiss’s eyes had gotten wider, pupils slowly blowing out. Emily softly ran a circle with her thumb over the soft flesh of Emily’s upper leg.

_y/n_ felt like she must be possessed by Aphrodite with the confidence that had up until now, never emerged like this before. _y/n_’s desire for Emily was strong, stronger than it had ever been, and more shockingly was the fact that Prentiss wasn’t pulling away from her touch. She was leaning into it, into her. And before _y/n_ could fully understand what was happening, their lips were meeting and the scent of Emily’s perfume filled her head like a hallucinogen. Emily similarly reveled in the sensation of _y/n_ soft lips pressed against hers. She snaked her hands into _y/n_’s hair, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. When they had to pull back, Prentiss took a quick breath. She kept her hands woven in _y/n_’s smooth locks and then kissed her forehead tenderly. Emily didn’t consider herself a woman of lust, but the feelings that _y/n_ had pulled out of her made her want more. Made her want to get drunk on _y/n_ alone. Finally, she pulled back, and _y/n_ was flushed and her chest rose and fell more rapidly as if she was still trying to regain her breath. Emily placed a hand on the side of _y/n_’s face. She wanted to ensure that there was consent for everything going forward, so she asked, “_y/n_, do you want to keep doing this? Doing more? I’d like that with you _y/n_, but only if you're comfortable with it. I don’t want to move too fast if it’s unwanted.” Emily’s words seemed to zap all of _y/n_’s confidence from her, and she pulled back a little. Prentiss took this as a “Yes, let’s stop for now,” but didn’t understand the internal conflict _y/n_ was having. Didn’t understand why _y/n_ felt like she couldn’t say yes even though she desperately wanted to. But how could _y/n_ admit that she’d never been with a woman before to someone as pretty and cool as Emily? What would Emily think of her after that? But Prentiss could see _y/n_ look aside, the loss of confidence that had looked so good on her. In a gentle voice, Emily asked, “Penny for your thoughts, _y/n_.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her lip and realized if she was going to be brave with anyone in this area of her life, Emily was probably the best person to do it with. After all, it was Emily, she had just been making out with like it was nothing. So risking whatever there was between them, _y/n_ said, “I, I want to be with you like that Em. It’s just, well, I’ve never been with a woman before and I know, I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know how. I don’t want it to be mediocre. Not for you. With guys, it’s whatever, but not with you. You deserve the best, and…” _y/n_ realized she was rambling and cut herself off, embarrassed.

Emily nodded a bit in understanding and replied, “_y/n_, did you think I was going to laugh at you or something for not being experienced?” _y/n_ turned her head back to Prentiss and gave a small affirmative nod. Emily sighed and took her hands saying, “_y/n_ we all have to start somewhere. My first time with a woman wasn’t great, I can tell you that. It was all teeth and tongue.�� Emily flushed at the memory. She’d grown a lot since then in her sexuality and experience. _y/n_ knew where Emily was coming from but said hesitantly, “Yes, but you’re my first woman to be intimate with Emily and I can only imagine that it will be tongue and teeth when I reciprocate.” Emily squeezed _y/n_’s hand and said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want to make you feel good _y/n_. Making you feel amazing will make me feel very happy. And if you want to try with me, I can tell you what I like. Show you what to do? But you don’t have to. You make me feel so open, _y/n_. And I’d like to share that with you, for you, if you’ll have me?” _y/n_ looked at Emily. _y/n_ thought about everything, about how she didn’t know what this relationship was, but how good it had felt to kiss Emily. How natural it was. How Prentiss had booked after a robber just to get her purse back with her. Yes, _y/n_ felt the nerves in her stomach clench in apprehension, but the desire to have something more with Emily gave her the courage to nod and eventually say, “Yes. I want that with you too, Emily. Would you show me how it works?” Emily softly smiled and said, “Of course. I’d be happy too. How would you feel about moving to your bedroom? I think this might be more comfortable there than on the coach.

_y/n_ nodded and stood. Emily placed a hand on her lower back, as they moved a few feet to _y/n_’s bedroom. _y/n_ turned on some lamps and then stood in front of Emily, hands down in supplication. Prentiss moved toward her and said honestly, “You can tell me to stop at any time. If at any point you want to stop, we stop, alright?” _y/n_ nodded yes, and Emily asked, “Please tell me yes.” _y/n_ cleared her throat, a blush rising at the idea of what was about to happen, and said, “Yes. I promise.” Emily smiled and said, “That’s my girl,” before leaning down and kissing _y/n_ again. This kiss was more passionate. Now _y/n_ ran her hands through Emily’s dark hair, while the agent's hands slipped behind _y/n_ back and shoulders. Pulling _y/n_’s body more flush with hers. Prentiss ran her tongue over _y/n_’s low lip and _y/n_ opened her mouth in surprise at the warm, wet sensation. Emily pulled back ever so slightly and looked at the hazy gaze of desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Emily whispered, “Can I slip my tongue in your mouth? I want to taste you here before I taste you down there?” _y/n_ flushed further and nodded her consent. _y/n_ more excitedly pressed her lips to Emily’s opening her mouth again. Emily moved her tongue inside _y/n_’s mouth and softly explored the dark space. Feeling the concaves and upper palette of the space. Emily savored this small step, as she felt _y/n_ press her body even closer to her own as the intimacy and trust grew between them. When _y/n_ let out a soft moan, prompted by Prenitss slipping her hand under her shirt, and to her bare back, Emily pulled away.

Whatever hesitation or fear had been in _y/n_ before was slowly seeping away as she longed for more sensation from her guide in this new realm or pleasure. Prentiss asked, “Is it okay if I help you out of these things you’re wearing? You get to choose how much you want me to see.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’d like you to see everything. And I’d like to see all of your too,” as _y/n_ began undoing the buttons of her shirt while Emily moved her slender hands to _y/n_’s skirt waistband. When the zipper was undone, it slipped to the floor along with _y/n_’s shirt which she cast aside. Emily looked over _y/n_ in her semi-naked state. She was luminous, glowing under the lamplight in _y/f/c_ bra and panties. Emily affirmed her as she had the first night they met. “You are so, so beautiful, _y/n_. With your clothes, without your clothes. You’re like a sun, like a light.” _y/n_ chuckled and moved softly behind Emily, with the profiler watching her graceful steps. _y/n_ said, “May I get you out of this dress?” Prentiss nodded and _y/n_ pulled down the zipper on the back. The gold teeth unwound one by one down to Emily’s lower back Once there, _y/n_ pushed either side of the body off of Emily’s arms. The outfit was formfitting and it took one or two more tugs to get the dress to join the rest of _y/n_’s clothes on the floor. When it was off, _y/n_ moved to face Emily head-on again. Now _y/n_ looked over the goddess that was in front of her and said, “Have you considered that I might just be a mirror and that you’re the one that’s the sun, Emily?” _y/n_ really hadn’t allowed herself to consciously think about Emily like this. Or even look at her that closely until now because an insecure part of her, deep inside, had told _y/n_ that someone like Emily would never be interested in her. But now the most beautiful woman in the world was in front of her, in only a white lace bra and matching underwear and it was all a bit overwhelming in the best possible way. It felt like the relief of getting a breath of oxygen after being pushed underwater by a big wave for too long. It didn’t even take Emily asking to get _y/n_ to take her hand and lead them both to her bed. Once they were on the mattress with _y/n_ laying up on her elbows and Emily slightly over her, Prentiss kissed her mouth and then down her jawline and neck. Once between the valley of _y/n_ breasts, Emily slipped her right hand behind _y/n_’s back and easily undid the clasp of _y/n_’s bra while her left slipped the straps off _y/n_’s shoulders. _y/n_ helped in removing the intimate article. _y/n_’s nipples upon exposure to the cool air formed their taut buds, ready to be rubbed or sucked. However, before Emily moved forward, she sought clarity,

Emily sat up a bit, and _y/n_ looked slightly disappointed as Prentiss said, “_y/n_. Just so I know, how much experience do you have with sex and intimacy? Be it with men or yourself?” _y/n_ flushed but replied honestly, “You know, I’ve messed around. Had a boyfriend or two. It was mostly _y/e/w/m/b_, but not much more than that. As for what I’ve tried myself is just _w/y/d/w/ys_.” Somehow _y/n_ had imagined that sharing her history with Emily would be embarrassing, like saying she’d never been with a woman would be embarrassing. But Prentiss took it in stride and said, “Thank you for telling me. I’m going to go slow for now. If you want more or less, or to stop, all you have to do is tell me.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as Emily dipped her head down to her chest, taking her right nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue over the sensitive area.” Almost instantly _y/n_ moaned and closed her eyes. As _y/n_ tipped her head back, Prentiss used her left hand to rub over _y/n_’s left nipple and used her right to trace down _y/n_’s side, and then between _y/n_’s legs. With practiced pressure, Emily rubbed circles over _y/n_’s clothed sex. _y/n_ let out another moan, and Emily knew that if she slipped her right hand under _y/n_’s panties, she would feel the beginnings of desire slick her fingers. But she worked slowly, making sure _y/n_ was ready. After a few minutes and many more needy sounds for _y/n_, Emily asked, “Can I taste you down there? It’s not invasive or overwhelming generally speaking like traditional sex. I think you might like it. It’s a good starting place for this type of intimacy.” _y/n_ stopped herself from recounting how the one time she’d asked a partner about cunnilingus, they had said, “That stuff’s gross,” and instead said, “Yes, please.” Because _y/n_ had wondered what it felt like, and if it was Emily's offering, it had to be mindblowing. Everything else the brunette had been doing to her body had been ecstatic. Eliciting feelings and responses she’d never felt before. Emily nodded and again, saw the desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Prentiss kissed down _y/n_’s stomach and navel and then made it to the elastic of her underwear. Because Emily had been continually teasing and applying appropriate pressure to _y/n_’s clit, she knew that _y/n_ was soaked already. That it wouldn’t take much to get her over the edge. Prentiss pulled off _y/n_’s last piece of clothing with _y/n_’s help by lifting her hips. It was just the sound of their shared breath as Emily positioned _y/n_’s legs apart and slightly bent. Emily repositioned herself on the bed and gave one final look to _y/n_ between her legs. _y/n_ nodded her final consent, and Prentiss moved her mouth to _y/n_’s most intimate area.

Even as Emily’s tongue made its first pass in tasting _y/n_’s arousal, the new sensation had _y/n_ clench her stomach in the most pleasurable way. Similarly, Emily loved the taste of _y/n_ so much that she lapped up and down _y/n_’s sex from her entrance to her sensitive bundle of nerves, taking everything she could with each pass. _y/n_ gripped the sheets of the bed with clenched fists; saying Emily’s name as she struggled to get the word out around her pleasure. Emily slowed her mouth a bit, realizing she was getting ahead of herself with her desire. As Prentiss started to draw small circles up and then down _y/n_ weeping sex, she used her other hand to run up and down _y/n_’s side. After a few minutes of this, _y/n_was panting. The tingling in her core had built up to a fire that was daring to be let out. To flare with just the smallest addition of oxygen. Emily’s mouth and nose were wet with _y/n_’s slick, and when _y/n_ said, “Please, Emily. I don’t think I can take it much longer.” Prentiss moved her attention to the _y/n_’s clit. Emily sucked and licked the area in tight circles. That was all it took for _y/n_ to intensely climax. _y/n_’s orgasm felt like water finally coming to a boil. The sensation was so strong that she spasmed uncontrollably for a moment and then collapsed into the bed. The euphoric feeling was so filling that _y/n_’s mind went blank for a few moments. It took _y/n_ a few minutes to realize that Emily had moved from between her legs and was now by her side, checking in on her, and running a hand up and down her arm to ground _y/n_. When _y/n_ opened her eyes, she said, “That was so good Em. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I want to give that to you too. I’m just not sure if I can do it tonight. My brain, it’s like, turned into soup or something.” _y/n_ chuckled, closing her legs and saying, “Maybe you broke me. I’m not sure if humans are supposed to feel that good.” Prentiss smiled at _y/n_’s words and how flushed she still looked, even minutes after her release. Emily ran a hand through _y/n_’s hair and said, “You deserve to feel that way often, _y/n_. I’ll make it your new normal if you’ll let me. I feel drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt pulled to anyone before. I’d like to show you more. Get to know you more. Keep spending time together.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’d like that, But only if you promise to show me how to make you feel this way too?” Emily nodded and said, “It would be a pleasure.” There were a few moments of silence before _y/n_ said, “Spend the night with me, please? It’s late, and I need my sun near me for a warmth I never knew I needed.” Emily smiled and nodded, wordlessly nestling close to _y/n_’s body, finding solace in their proximity.

After composing herself a bit _y/n_ moved, turned off all of the lights, and lay down next to Emily again. With an arm draped over Prentiss’s waist. _y/n_ asked in the darkness of the room, “What are we exactly, Emily? Is this what people always talk about with love at first sight?” Emily’s laugh reassured _y/n_ that she felt the same way about that trope as her. Emily replied softly, “I don’t know yet. I don’t think this feeling I have around you has ever happened to me before. But maybe we can figure out a label tomorrow if it will bring you comfort. All I know is that I love you, _y/n_, and I don’t want to let you go.” As _y/n_ felt Emily fall asleep in her arms. _y/n_ whispered, “I love you too, Em.” As _y/n_ slipped into oblivion, she pondered how she’d never really allowed herself to fall in love before. Because it could hurt, because she’d been rejected before. The fear of falling seemed so stupid now that Emily was nestled next to her, and with that, she slipped into sleep.

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