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scuttling · 3 years

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Those Who Wait

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Word Count: 4,985 Tags: 18+, Loss of virginity, Insecure reader, Fingering, Protected sex Summary: When you let it slip to the team that you've never had sex, they make it their mission to help you find someone who will make your dreams a reality. *Requested by anons!

Link to A03 or read below! “I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate this, but I am not a virgin,” Spencer says, palms up, and it’s clear this is something he’s reminded the team of on more than one occasion. You’re on the jet on the way home from a case, all of you gathered around chattering mindlessly to decompress, with the exception of Hotch, who is in his usual seat, working on his computer.

“And I never said I was talking about you,” you reply, with a tone just shy of smartass. You regret bringing it up already, because this will open the door to a topic you did not want to discuss with the team, ever, but you can’t put the cat back in the bag.

“Hold on. Are you…?” Emily grins a little, but her face drops into a frown when she notices the change in your demeanor, the tension in your shoulders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, at all.”

“You’re a virgin? Really? You’re almost thirty,” Morgan says, leaning forward to look at you, and you nod, shrug. “Is it a religious thing? Saving yourself for marriage?” You scoot back in your seat, blow out a breath, use the casual posture to try to mask your discomfort.

“Nope, it’s not a religious thing. I’m just waiting for someone who’s worth it.”

“If you’re waiting for the perfect person,” JJ says, folding forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you’re going to be waiting forever.”

You sigh, because this is exactly the reason you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I’m not waiting for the perfect person. For a long time, I didn’t have time to date, and I was—you know, satisfied, without it, so it wasn’t an issue.” Your cheeks heat a little when you say it, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck. “But lately I’ve kind of shifted toward wanting to have sex, to find someone to make the connection with. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I do have standards.”

“Don’t put pressure on yourself to do it. You’ve waited this long, why rush into things?” Emily says with a soft smile, and you reciprocate, grateful.

“I actually think it might be better if she just goes for it,” Morgan disagrees. Why aren’t you surprised? “Get it in, get it on, and get it over with. Then you won’t feel like it’s hanging over your head.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m going on dates; they’re all just really, really bad dates—like, the worst I’ve ever been on.”

“How many dates?” JJ asks with an arched brow, and you grimace.

“In the last month? Twelve.” Morgan laughs out loud, and you kind of want to punch him.

“Twelve first dates in the last month and you can’t get laid? Where are you finding these guys?”

“This stupid dating app Garcia convinced me to sign up for. They all seem fine on their profiles—”

“Oh, no, you can’t go by their profiles. Complete bullshit,” Emily says, and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“How else am I supposed to know what they’re like? They’re strangers.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.” You’re a little surprised when it’s Spencer who chimes in; everyone turns to look at him. “You’re a lot like me, and I know that I was nervous and insecure, and waiting for the right person made it a really great experience for me. I think you should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful.”

“She’s going to be waiting ‘til she’s eighty,” Morgan says with a grin, but he pats you on the back. “And if you do, I guess that’s okay. Not every guy can be a catch like yours truly.”

“Oh, spare us,” JJ says with a laugh, and you move on to other topics for the rest of the flight.

When you go to grab your luggage before heading back to the office, it’s just you and Hotch left on the jet; he’s been quiet for most of the trip, but when he steps up next to you, he says your name, low, to get your attention.

“I just wanted you to know, you deserve to be treated well… your first time. You should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful, like Reid said.” You just look at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Part of you knows what you want to say. You want to say, is it worth it? You want to say, how will I know? You want to say, would you make it meaningful?

What you say is, “Thanks, Hotch.” He nods, hands you your bag, then takes his, closes the luggage compartment; he gestures for you to go ahead of him, and the two of you exit the plane.

You all go back to the office. Everyone hangs around for a few minutes, but Hotch goes up to his office, turns on the lights, sits down at his desk, and takes off his jacket. He’s in for a long night, then. You’re just getting ready to leave when Garcia strolls over, bag in hand.

“Hey, girl. How was that date the other night? Haven’t gotten to talk to you about anything other than murder the last few days.” She notices that your eyes are on Hotch’s office, looks up at him and back down at you. “Is everything okay, hon?” The concern in her voice snaps you out of it, and you look to her, smile.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The date was not, though. I’ll walk out with you.” You grab your things, throw your jacket over your arm, and take one last look up at Hotch’s office before making your way to the parking garage. You go on seven more dates over the course of three weeks that are a complete waste of time and effort. Who knew having what you consider relatively basic standards would make losing your virginity so goddamn difficult? You know you’re not a knockout like JJ or Emily, and sometimes your nerves get the best of you, but you’ve been pretty charming, funny, all dolled up and putting out clear, but not desperate, DTF vibes.

The longer your quest drags on, the more embarrassing it gets. It actually becomes a part of the morning meeting: as soon as you enter the briefing room each day, Morgan raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head. He’s keeping a tally. You want to die a little bit.

Finally, you’re sitting at home one evening when you get the call from JJ that you’ll be heading to Miami for a case first thing the next morning. You thank her for letting you know, but before she hangs up, she says, “Bring a dress, something sexy. If we have an extra night, we’re going to a club and getting you laid.”

You stammer, a little embarrassed at the directness, but you pack a short, light, red dress, something appropriate for a humid Miami night, on the off chance you’ll actually get to go out.

The case is solved in a day and a half, and you are going to stay the night again, so JJ and Emily make it their mission to get you ready for a night out, and Morgan and Spencer make it their mission to scope out your potential partners and check for red flags before you even get close to them.

It’s sweet, kind of wholesome, when you ignore the fact they’re trying to get you fucked.

You have a drink at the outdoor bar, try to loosen up a little; the place is swarming with gorgeous, supermodel looking women with very little clothing on, breasts and ass everywhere you turn, and you feel inadequate, self-conscious in your little red dress. You freaking hate Miami.

You get glances from Morgan and Spencer, nudges of encouragement from Emily and JJ—even Hotch is around somewhere, part of the red flag detail, which you hadn’t expected—and you’re so close to giving up when a song comes on that you know and absolutely love.

Sex is outside your realm of knowledge, but dancing you can do, and you wrap your hand around Emily’s wrist and tell her you want to. JJ takes your drinks, sets them on the table, and the three of you head out to the dance floor.

It’s clear they didn’t expect much of your dancing, because they looked surprised as hell that you know how to work your body to the music, putting your arms on JJ’s shoulders and moving against her. She looks up, grins at Emily over your head, and cocks her eyebrow, impressed.

“Not that innocent after all,” she says, and you toss your head lightly, laugh.

“Said I was a virgin, not that I was innocent.” The three of you dance together, and you’re approached by several guys who try to get behind you, in between you, closer anyway they can. JJ and Emily are selective with who they entertain and who they give the brush off, and you’re grateful, because despite the outcome, you’re having a good time, and you never would have done this alone.

Eventually, a man comes over, wants to dance with you specifically; the girls exchange looks, give you a nudge, and you put your arms around his neck, let him rest his hands on your hips.

He’s pretty hot, you have to admit, a little under six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile, and dancing against him feels good. If it’s any indication of what if would be like to have sex with him, you’d let him take you home in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s been pre-planned that you’ll go back to your room upstairs if you hook up, so your people are nearby in case anything goes wrong; it’s maybe a little weird, the thought of your coworkers being cheerleaders while you lose your virginity, but what about this isn’t weird? At this point, you’re just going with the flow.

This guy is nice enough, doesn’t go straight for your ass like other guys you danced with, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing; you pull back, get his attention so you can tell him thanks for the dance, but you’re going to go back to your friends.

You don’t get a chance to say that, because you’re guided away from him by two strong hands on your waist. You turn, ready to tell someone off for getting handsy with you, but it’s Hotch, so the defensive posture you’d slipped into softens.

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you ask loudly; his expression is serious, his brows pulled down in a frown. He shakes his head, leans in closer.

“I can’t let you go through with that—with him,” Hotch says in your ear, still hard to hear over the thrum of the music, and you put your hand on his shoulder, lean up so you can speak into his.

“What? Why not?” you ask, breathless from dancing and the heat. “JJ and Emily thought he seemed alright.” You didn’t actually want to go through with it, but that’s not important at the moment, not when Hotch is clearly trying to get some kind of point across.

“It’s not that, I just—you deserve better.” You frown, not sure you heard him right, and one of the hands on your waist moves lower; he presses you closer. “I don’t know if you would consider it, but I could do it. I could be the one.”

“The one?” you breathe. You need to hear him say it to confirm it’s not all in your head, that you aren’t taking anything out of context.

“The one you sleep with. The one to show you how good it can be. The one who will treat you well.”

You take a step back, have to see his face; is this pity, kindness, genuine interest? Because for the last few weeks, after every bad date, you’ve come back to the thought of Hotch kissing you, touching you, taking you apart. You know his hands are capable, you know he is kind and gentle, and it’s only the thought of him that keeps you from leaving with the first guy to show you attention. You’re so frustrated, never more desperate to feel than you have been since he told you you deserved something good.

He swallows when you look up at him, and your heart races.

“If you want to, I want to. No pressure if you don’t,” he assures you. What he’s saying is so unexpected, but so perfect, and you nod, wet your lips, lean back up on your toes to put your mouth to his ear.

“I want to. I trust you.” Feeling bold, you brush a hand over the back of his head, press your lips to the side of his neck. “Please?”

“Are you sure?” He sounds as tense as you feel, holds you tightly, like he needs to make sure this is really happening. You cling to him just as tightly, nod your head against his throat, and he squeezes your waist, ushers you across the crowded patio and inside the cool air of the hotel. You both sigh, because it’s quieter, more comfortable, and your gaze lingers over his body until he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

You’ve done your fair share of kissing, and Hotch is so good at it, his hands on your face, his lips softer than you would have imagined, but firm in the way they press against yours. When the kiss breaks, you bring your hands to his wrists, breathing heavily, and then lean in to follow up with a kiss of your own.

He smiles softly, and you smile back, then slip your hand into his and let him lead you to the elevator. You’re not sure if it’s the night of dancing, the heat, the thrill of not only having sex after waiting so long, but having sex with Hotch, or what, but you feel changed; you’re a grown adult, you know that losing your virginity doesn’t mean much, doesn’t change who you are fundamentally, but the thought of experiencing it gives you a stomach full of butterflies in the best way possible.

“Would you like to go to my room, or yours?” he asks when you board the elevator, and he presses the button for the third floor. You plan to say it doesn’t really matter to you, but a thought crosses your mind.

“We can go to mine. I have condoms.” You’re not shy about using protection, know it’s just plain stupid not to, when you've been essentially searching for a new partner whose sexual and medical history you know little to nothing about, but telling Hotch makes your face heat a little. “I bought a variety pack—you know, when I started going on the dates.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, nodding, and then he bends to kiss you, brushes his fingers over your jaw. “How are you feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Good,” you clarify. You feel so much better than okay you barely know how to say it, but there is one thing you didn’t think to ask before. “Hey, are you… are you attracted to me?” You look him over curiously, and the elevator dings; you step forward to get off, walk down the hall, but Hotch puts his hand out to stop the door, which stops you.

“I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, and ever since you mentioned on the jet that this was something you were looking forward to… I can’t deny I’ve thought about being the one you share it with. Are you attracted to me?” You wet your lips, ready to reply with an emphatic yes, but he must take it for hesitation. “I understand why you want to do this, but if you aren’t attracted to me—it’s important that you want this with me, not just that you want this. I don’t want us to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

His words make you lose a little of the nervousness you were still holding onto, and you decide to show, not tell, how you feel about him; you wrap your fingers in his shirt and guide him down for a kiss that is hotter than before, still soft and slow, but wet and deep, too. After a moment, the elevator dings—likely due to the door remaining open for so long—and you break apart, breathless, and exit the elevator to head down the hall to your room.

Your interaction isn’t exactly awkward at first, but a little stilted: you both take off your shoes, and you grab waters from the mini fridge, hand him one and take a long sip of the other. It’s almost as if you are delaying the inevitable, but it’s not because this isn’t something you want to do; if pressed, you’d say the idea of having this time with Hotch is actually something you want to savor, not rush into too quickly. You aren’t delaying, but prolonging, and eventually you have to snap yourself out of it and just enjoy what you have while you have it.

You cross the room, walk over to him, and put your hands on his stomach, look up at him with clear eyes. His fingers ghost over your bare arms, and for a moment you just share breath, a lingering stare, until you stretch up to meet him in the middle for a deep kiss.

Hotch moves his hands to your hair, tips your head up, and you wind your arms around his back, pulling him closer and stepping forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He is warm, broad, solid beneath your hands, and you push them up the back of his shirt, skim them over his skin.

“Can I take this off?” you breathe when you separate, and he nods, helps you work it over his head and drops it to the floor.

Your hands rest on his stomach again, glide up his chest, and when you kiss this time, he turns you so your back faces the bed, eases you onto it. He lays between your legs, kisses until you’re both panting with need, and when you lean your head back to catch your breath he moves his mouth to your neck, trails it slowly up, then down, softly bites at the base of your throat. You hum softly, clutch his shoulders, bring your knees up around his waist.

“God, I want you.” He pulls back, looks down at you, his chest heaving, and you nod, brush fingers through his hair. “I want you, Hotch. Please touch me.”

He begins with the slow drag of big, careful hands down the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your dress up around your waist. You can’t stop looking at his face, serious and handsome, even though the rest of him is perfect too; you like that he looks affected by this, like it means something to him as well, like you’re not alone in feeling a bit overwhelmed. He moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans up on his knees so he can pull your panties off, sets them on the bed beside him.

“I’m just going to rub. Tell me if it’s too much, not enough.” He curls over you for a kiss and slides his fingers along your pussy, three of them, long and thick. You close your eyes immediately, because the first touch is so good, his fingertips gliding through your slick and spreading it over your lips and clit; you are both breathing heavily, mouths hovering over each other, and you clutch at his biceps while he rubs where you are soft and aching.

It’s not that it’s not enough—you could get off this way, easily, you’re halfway there already—but you want more, imagine yourself clamping down around his fingers, digging your nails into him when you come.

“Can you…” You trail off, bite your lip, and he smooths a palm over your cheek, your hair.

“Ask me. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to give it to you.” A soft, needy noise leaves your throat, and he presses his lips to yours, slips the pads of two fingers over your clit, rubs circles against it. “Is it this? Is this what you want?” You wet your lips, think no but yes, move a hand to his face.

“Can you put your fingers inside me? I want to feel you inside.” Your voice trembles over it, not used to being so direct, not used to asking for what you want, and his answering kiss is deep, wet; he pulls back to look at your face as he presses one finger inside, and you feel your expression shift, from desperate to intensely pleasured, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Hotch, oh.” He pulls it out slowly, nearly all the way, and pushes it back in, rubs your cheek, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Good is an understatement, and you clench around him, slide your hands down his forearms, nod. “Good. It’s okay if you’re just quiet, but if you’re nervous about how you’ll sound, don’t be. I’d like to hear how you’re feeling.” Another reason to feel so good about this—because you are self-conscious of the way you’ll sound, and you should have known he would pick up on it, try to ease your insecurities. You wet your lips, nod, and he moves the finger slowly in and out, adds another when you ask him to.

“Mmm. Mmm.” You bring a hand to your covered breast, squeeze it, and he moves to push your dress up further, to bare it, maybe, but you tense, then instantly feel silly.

“What is it?” he asks gently, running his hand over your stomach instead, and your muscles relax, you sigh.

“Just a little self-conscious… about my breasts—especially after everything I saw downstairs,” you say, huffing a laugh, and he chuckles, nods.

“Miami is a bit much. But you’re so beautiful, sweetheart, just as you are, and it’s clear they bring you pleasure. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take your dress off all the way, touch them… kiss them.” The prospect sounds so tempting—your nipples are sensitive beneath your own hands, but under his? His mouth?

Your breathing picks up again, and you nod, rest your arms over your head so he can pull it up and off. You swallow, trembling and bare beneath him, and he steps off of the bed to push the rest of his clothes off, too; you know you feel vulnerable, so maybe he sensed it, wanted to make you more comfortable? Either way, he is gorgeous, and you’re so grateful to be doing this with him.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks, bending over the edge of the bed to kiss you with a hand on your cheek. You direct him to your bag, and he opens the box, takes out the one he needs, walks back to you; you lean up on your elbows to watch him intently as he tears the package open, rolls it onto his cock. When he climbs on top of you again, when he pushes your knees gently apart and makes himself at home between them, you shudder; you can feel his dick for the first time, hard against your thigh, and he leans in to kiss your throat, your shoulders, and eventually, your breasts.

His mouth covers one, his hand covers the other, and you gasp when his lips close around your nipple, suck softly. “Hotch, oh my god.” You lift your hips, looking for contact, and he removes the hand from your breast, uses it to line his cock up so it can slide over your pussy as you rock against him, wet, perfect pressure, as he pulls your breast more roughly into his mouth, nibbles it.

You arch your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he moans, slowly glides his hands over your throat, into your hair. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he slips out from between you, making you sigh at the loss. Now that you’ve felt him, it’s maddening to be without, and you wet your lips, touch his face.

“I’m ready.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks, your chin, rubs his nose softly against yours, and you meet for a deep, slow, wet kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please.” You move your hands to his waist, guide him closer, and he pushes slowly inside, lets you get used to the stretch it brings. It just feels good, not really a new sensation, since you’ve put toys inside before, but he is so much thicker, more satisfying to feel along your sensitive channel, his body warm on top of yours.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs, lips grazing yours, and you curl your hand around the back of his neck, just kiss him, enjoy the fullness and the slide of his tongue.

“So good. You can move,” you say, and your voice sounds strained, but it’s with arousal, not discomfort. You hitch your knees up higher, put your hands on his arms, pull him in so he’ll know that. “Want to feel you, Hotch.” You share breath for a few moments, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, repeats it a few times, slow and steady, looking into your eyes.

You moan, carefully roll your hips in time with his, and he pumps inside a little deeper, a little quicker. You grip his arms, move your hands to his face, unsure what part of him you want to touch, anchor yourself against. He leans down for a kiss and you press your fingers to his cheeks, kiss him more passionately, less timidly than you’ve been so far. He groans against your mouth, and you pant as your bodies work together; it’s almost instinctual, the need to take him deeper, to meet, thighs hard against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sliding his hands over your sides, hips, and you nod, gasp when he shifts up, gets his mouth on your breast again, kisses it wetly while his cock glides inside. That’s enough to have you moaning, loudly, head back, your hands on his body now, to feel his muscles flex while he thrusts inside you.

“Hotch, oh. Feels so good, I—” He bites down, lightly, just the edge of his teeth, and your legs snap tight against his body, shaking while you come around him. “Oh, oh. Mmm.” Your muscles contract so hard he grunts, your pussy all but trapping him there, and he grinds against you, grips your thighs.

“So perfect. You feel so good coming for me, so tight.” You ride out the pleasure, rolling your hips against his, and when you’re a little looser he thrusts again, slides an arm behind yours, his hand carefully around the back of your neck, kisses you until he comes, groaning, in your ear.

You look up at him as he gathers himself, wets his lips, and you curl around him for a hug; he holds you tightly, rubs gentle palms over your body, murmurs that you’re incredible and he hopes you know that was special. It's the connection you were looking for, intimacy, and you are so incredibly happy you found it, even if you did find it in the unlikeliest of places.

You lay together for a few minutes before he pulls out, ties off the condom, takes it into the bathroom, and then you go in to pee. You look yourself over in the mirror—again, fully aware that losing your virginity changes almost nothing—but you can’t help feeling like a missing piece has locked into place.

If makes you wonder if the missing piece maybe wasn’t sex, but Hotch.

When you head back into the other room, you expect him to be dressed, or at least getting dressed, but he’s laying back on the bed, covers turned down, body still bare—what you can see of him is bare, anyway, because crisp white sheets cling to his waist, make him look only that much more delicious as he waits for you.

You suddenly ache with desire again, touch your chest at the rush of emotion, of sensation, and then you climb on the bed, slip into his lap, kiss him again. This time it’s different, because your lips and tongue are all saying what you can’t, and it’s intimate, passionate, vulnerable, intense.

Except, maybe you can say it, because he kisses back just as furiously, and it translates into something as strong as what you’re feeling, his hands on your face and lower back holding you close.

“I want you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you’re panting hard, desperate for more. “Not just tonight—I want every night to feel like tonight. I know you weren’t planning for anything more than this, but if you like, maybe I could take you to dinner when we get back. We could see if there’s something more?” He looks nervous, like the offer won’t be well received, but you just nod, smile, lean close for a gentler brush of lips.

“I’d really like that. I don’t want to only feel like this tonight.”

You kiss a little more, softer, sweeter things, eventually moving from his lap to curl against his side; the two of you cuddle, talk—it’s not awkward in the slightest, just feels right, and you drift to sleep warm and content in his arms.

Maybe Miami’s not so bad after all.

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718 notes · View notes

jkstompers · 3 years

Text

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me.

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface.

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.”

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back.

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site.

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform.

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them.

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store.

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head.

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came.

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #dark!fic #let me be your ruler #mob au #mafia au #au #mcu #marvel #series #spider-man #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark

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chrizbang · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Han Jisung x female reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: mature content, swearing, partying, drinking, fighting, crying, penetative sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 4.934

Author’s note: English is not my first language, there might be some grammar mistakes dhuofdsjojd I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your feedback!

You and Jisung dated for almost a year. He was a great boyfriend even though he was always busy. He barely had time to spend with you, he worked a lot and had all the work from college. Because of that, Jisung decided it was better to break up with you. He really liked you, but he thought it wouldn't be fair to keep you in a relationship with him since he didn't have time to spend with you. That's what he told himself.

He wanted you to remain as friends. It wasn’t a long time ago, so you were still healing, and as much as you wanted to do the friends thing, you needed sometime for yourself.

After you finished your shift at the coffee shop you worked at, you were heading home. You were tired and all you wanted was to go to sleep. Becca, your roommate, messaged you saying she was going to a party, so you were going to be alone.

It was in moments like thiswhere you missed Jisungthe most, the momentswhen you were alone in your apartment. You missed how he would make you dinner, even thoughhe would burn the food most of the time. You missed cuddling with him on the couch while you watched a movie. And, oh boy, you missed having sex with him. Jisungwas good, he knew exactly what he had to do to drive you crazy, and as much as you like using your toys, it wasn’t the same.

After getting home, you took your shoes and yourjacket off and sat on the couch. All you wanted was to go to sleep but you needed to shower. You grabbed your phone and you saw that you had two messages from Becca.

Becca, 20:30: hey

Becca, 20:30: girl, are you awake?

Y/N, 20:31: yes

You felt curious, but you chose to take a shower instead of waiting for her to answer. You got up from the couch and went to your room. You took your clothes off, putting them in the laundry basket inside your bathroom, and entered the shower. It was quick, just enough to take the sweat off. After drying your body, you put on your panties and your favorite hoodie and went to bed.

You took your phone and saw that Becca sent two more messages.

Becca, 20:50:[picture]

Becca, 20:50: Isn’t that Jisung????

You opened the picture and felt your heart sink. Jisung was in the line outside of the party, waiting to get in. He was with some friends. Jisung was wearing skinny jeans, sneakers, and that one leather jacket that made him look so good.

You know he had to move on eventually, it’s been one month since he broke up with you. But it made you feel sad that you were still thinking about him and he was ready to meet someone new.

Y/N, 20:52:wow

Y/N, 20:52:can you do me a favor?

Becca, 20:53:sure

Y/N, 20:53:tell me if you see him doing something with someone, like kissing or anything

Becca, 20:55:are you sure you want to know about that?

Y/N, 20:55:yes, please

Becca wasn’t answering anymore, she was probably entering the party, you thought. You decided to go to sleep and try to forget about it. You laid on the bed and closed your eyes. You felt your head hurting, it was probably going to take you long to go to sleep now. You tried not to think about Jisung.

The next morning, you woke up at 9:00 am, it was your day off. You didn’t sleep well last night, so you didn’t wanted to get up, but you remembered what you asked Becca. You checked your phone and there wasn’t a new message from her. You got up and crawled to Becca’s room. You thought she was sleeping, but there was no one in her room. That’s when you heard noise in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you said.

“Good morning!” Becca looked fine for someone who partied all night. That was something that you always admired about her, how easy it was for her to have energy and a socialize. You couldn’t relate. She was wearing a pink cropped with booty shorts, her dark straight her on a ponytail, and she was making pancakes. She always made pancakes for the both of you in the morning.

“So, about Jisung…” she looked at you “are you really sure you want to know? I know you still have feelings for him.”

“I need to know,” you sat at the table in the kitchen. There was no turning back now. If you didn’t know what happened, it would linger in your mind forever. Becca put the dishes on the table and you took one pancake. You weren’t feeling hungry but you were going to eat it anyway.

“Okay,” she sighed “After we entered the party, I wasn’t able to keep track of him all the time, there were a lot of people inside.” She took a bite of her pancake. “What I saw was that he spent most of the time with his friends. However, I saw him kissing two girls, one after, at least, 30 minutes after the party started. She was Black and had a fit body. The other one was before he left, she was Asian and a little bit taller. And…” she paused.

“What?”

“She left with them.”

Becca saw your expression, she knew that you were feeling upset about it.

“I’m sorry for telling you,” she said “but you are my friend, and I wouldn’t be able to see him at the party having fun and not tell you. This is a sign that you need to move on.”

“I know…You know what? I’m going back to sleep.”

“You are not going to finish your pancake?”

“Sorry, I’m not hungry.”

Becca looked upset, but you know it wasn’t because of the pancake, but because she knew how you were feeling. You got up and went to your room. After laying in bed, you started crying. You felt empty, like you were easily replaced. All you been through with Jisung was in the past, you knew that, but knowing that he was with other girls was like a confirmation. Thinking about someone else kissing his lips, hugging him. Thinking about him running his pretty hands through someone else’s body. It made you feel sick. You knew it was silly, you knew you had no right to feel this way, but you couldn’t help it.

It has been a week since you discovered that Jisung was going out with other girls. You decided it was for the best to forget about him, you had plans for your future, and suffering for a man wasn’t going to help you.

You were getting ready for your shift, putting your uniform on, after taking a shower, when you received a notification on your phone. You picked it and saw it was a text message. When you opened it, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Unknown number, 13:25: Hey

Unknown number, 13:25: Sorry for messaging you out of the blue.

It was Jisung. You deleted his number but you could see his profile picture. Just because you were trying to get over him, he had to message you.

Unknown number, 13:26: I just wanted to tell you that I finally graduated!

You didn’t know if it was better to ignore these messages or to answer him, but you decided to answer because you didn’t want to be rude.

Y/N, 13:29: hey, that’s good to hear

Y/N, 13:29: I’m happy for you

Unknown number, 13:31: Thanks!

Unknown number, 13:31: We’re going to have a party to celebrate it. You can come, if you want. You can bring Becca too. I would love to see you.

No way you were going. Nope. No. The last thing you needed was to see him. To feel him. To hug him. To smell his perfume. No.

Y/N, 13:34: sorry, but I think it for the best if I don’t go.

Unknown number, 13:37: It’s okay, but the offer is still up in case you change your mind.

You decided not to answer anymore. You were late to work and you didn’t want to keep thinking about it.

After working all day, you got home exhausted. Becca was already home, so she was preparing dinner.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey Y/N. I’m making pasta”. She said. “I had an idea and you are not going to say no to me.”

“Okay?” you stepped into the kitchen, curious about what she was talking about.

“We are going to a party!” Becca said excitedly.

“You know I’m not a fan of parties.”

“I know, but my friend Seungmin is throwing a party to celebrate his graduation, and I know a lot of cute boys are going to be there. Is your chance to get over your ex.”

“I don’t think I’m going to get over him if I keep thinking about him. Besides, he is going to that party, he invited me.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You know what? That’s good. So he can see what he lost.

Besides, are you going to lose an opportunity to have fun just so you can avoid him? That’s ridiculous.” You know she was trying to convince you. “Jisung needs to see that you are doing fine without him”.

“I’m definitely not” you grunted. You sat on the table, holding your head with your hands. This was a stupid idea.

“He doesn’t know that, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You knew it was useless to fight with Becca, she was persuasive when she wanted to.

“I’m gonna think about it, okay?” You gave Becca a pleading look, hoping that she would have mercy on you.

“Okay, but you don’t have much time. The party is this friday.”

Eventually, you decided to go to the party. Becca was right, you shouldn’t have to avoid places just because Jisung would be there. Besides, there was nothing you could say to convince her otherwise.

It was friday and you were feeling like you were going to explode. You didn’t know if you were ready to see Jisung yet. You wanted so bad for him to look at you and regret breaking up with you. You wanted him to beg to get back with you, but at the same time, you were scared you would have to see him with a new girlfriend.

You were getting ready, after doing your hair and make-up, you were trying to decide which outfit to wear. Somebody knocked on your door. “Come in,” you said.

“Hey” Becca entered your room, noticing that you were still in your underwear. “Can’t choose what to wear?” she sat on your bed.

“Yeah. I want something that makes me look good, so maybe Jisung will notice me, but at the same time, I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

“Why don’t you wear that low-cut white blouse that makes your boobs look good? You can wear it with a nice skirt,” Becca suggested.

“Hmm, I think I’ll wear it with some jeans instead of a skirt, so it will look more casual, and heel boots.” You put on your outfit and you felt good because you were looking gorgeous. Even if Jisung didn’t notice you, at least you were feeling good about yourself.

Becca called an Uber and you arrived at the party. Seugnmin’s house was huge, like something you’ve never seen before. You were standing before a huge gate, and inside you could see he had a big pool, where people were gathering around.

Once you were inside, you tried not to look for Jisung, even though you knew you would see him eventually. Becca suggested that you would get a drink, so both of you went to the kitchen. There were a lot of alcoholic beverages on the table, but since you weren’t fond of drinking, you just got the same as Becca.

“Hey, that boy didn’t stop to look at me since we arrived here,” Becca told you, trying not to look at him.

“Oh, I know him, his name is Felix. He is really cute.”

“I think I’m going to talk to him,” Becca winked at you. “Will you be okay?” She seemed concerned.

“Yes, I’ll be fine, go talk to him.” You didn’t want to stop her from having fun. After Becca left, you went outside to get some air. Seungmin’s backyard was huge, but it didn’t stop you from seeing Jisung. He was next to a table that was close to the pool. He was talking to a girl, she was blonde with straight hair, so she wasn’t one of the girls Becca said he kissed at the party. They looked like they were having an interesting conversation, she had her hand on his arm, she was definitely flirting with him. You couldn’t clearly see his face but by his body language, he was into it. He approached her to say something on her ear, his hands on her waist.

You felt your head hurt so bad, you really wanted to leave. You were so stupid to think you would be okay with seeing him, especially like that.

You turned around, wanting to leave as soon as possible, but a guy bumped into you, making you drop your drink on your blouse.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s sorry! I fucked up your shirt.”

“It’s okay, I was leaving anyway,” you looked up at the boy, he was tall, he had his long dark hair up in a ponytail. He was wearing a black sweatshirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers. He was so handsome, like a model.

“Hey, you don’t have to leave. Here,” he took his sweatshirt off, making his shirt underneath go up with it, exposing his abs. You couldn’t help but look. “I don’t know if it’s going to ruin your outfit, but at least you won’t have to wear something wet and stained.”

“You don’t have to,” you started to blush, he was really cute.

“It’s okay, really. You can even give me your blouse so I can wash it for you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll take the sweatshirt, but you don’t have to wash the shirt. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, can I get you another drink? I promise I won’t drop it on you again.”

“Sure! Just let me get changed” You rushed to the bathroom, feeling all giggly. For a moment you even forgot about how you were feeling because of Jisung. You took your blouse off and put on the sweatshirt. It had a nice smell, he probably used a good perfume. You just realized that you never asked his name.

You left the bathroom and looked for him, he was at the balcony in the kitchen. You approached him, holding your blouse in your hands.

“This sweatshirt is really comfortable. I might not give you back,” you teased him.

He smiled at you, he had such a pretty smile, he was breathtaking.

“I’ll allow it because you look cute in it.” You couldn’t stop blushing.

“So, my name is Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Hyunjin,” he said while pouring something into a cup.

“Are you graduating too?”

“Not yet,” he handed you the cup and took a sip from his own “I’m friends with the guy who planned the party.”

“Seungmin?”

“Yeah, do you know him?” he asked.

“I heard about him,” you looked at your cup “what is it?”

“I have no idea,” Hyunjin laughed.

You and Hyunjin chatted for a while, he was funny and you were having a good time. People were dancing in the living room, and he invited you to go there so you could dance with him. Hyunjin was a good dancer, moving his hips with ease. He was mesmerizing, and the alcohol you drank was starting to make you feel tipsy. He had his hands on your hips, guiding your body against his, sometimes grinding on you. For a moment you lost all your inhibitions, you gently grabbed his face with your hands and kissed him. It wasn’t long before Hyunjin kissed you back, opening his lips so you could put your tongue inside of his mouth. He held your head with one hand while the other held your back. He had soft lips and he was a good kisser, but you didn’t feel anything but desire. You kissed him for a while, but it was getting late and you had to go home if you wanted to sleep before going to work the next day. After you explained it to Hyunjin, you asked for his number, with the excuse of only getting it so you can give back his sweatshirt, and you went around looking for Becca, trying your best to avoid Jisung. Finally, you found her, kissing Felix like there was no tomorrow. You just wanted to tell her that you were leaving, but she insisted to go with you. You called an Uber and left the party.

“So… I saw you kissing that tall guy, he’s really cute,” Becca said while you were opening the front door of your apartment.

“Yeah, he is,” you smiled.

“You know who else saw it? Jisung.”

“Really?” You turned around to face her, after closing the door. You tried not to care about it, but it was useless.

“Yes, I was going to the bathroom, when I saw him in the kitchen getting some drinks, when he went through the living room to go outside again, he saw you dancing with the guy.” Becca sat on the couch to take her shoes off.

“But you said he saw us kissing?”

“Yeah, because he stayed inside, looking at you. Not gonna lie, he looked really upset.”

You felt a mix of emotions, part of you was happy because Jisung felt like you were feeling. But part of you thought it was stupid, and you didn’t want to hurt him.

“Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower and go to sleep,” Becca said, going to her room. You decided to do the same.

The next day you went to work with a migraine, you didn’t even drink that much. The day went by fast, it was almost the end of your shift. You were cleaning some cups in the sink when you heard the bell on the door, indicating that someone entered the coffee shop. You weren’t paying much attention until the person stopped by the balcony.

“Y/N.”

You turned around, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Jisung?”

“I wanna talk to you.”

“I can’t, I’m working,” you were feeling so confused, what was he doing here all of the sudden?

“Your shift will end in 10 minutes, right?” he looked at the watch on his wrist to check. “I can wait,” his expression was serious, he looked like he was upset but he didn’t look angry.

Ten minutes later, you left the balcony to go change in the back of the coffee shop. You were feeling nervous and apprehensive, you tried to change as fast as you could so you could solve this situation already.

When you went back, Jisung was sitting at a table with a thoughtful expression. He got up when he saw you getting closer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you home.”

“You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yeah, I do, but let’s go home first.”

You sighed but followed him to his car.

When you were inside the car, the atmosphere was heavy. Jisung drove to your house without saying a word. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

He stopped the car in front of your apartment, you really wanted to talk to him but you weren’t feeling brave enough to say anything.

“Can I come inside?” Jisung asked with pleading eyes. You felt a bit nervous, you would be alone with him since Becca texted you saying that she was going to spend the night at Felix’s house, but you couldn’t say no to him.

“I’m just trying to understand something,” Jisung said after you were already inside the house, you locked the door and looked at him.

“What?”

“You told me that you were not going to the party, you know, the one to celebrate the graduation. But, to my surprise, not only you went to the party, but you also were having a lot of fun with Hyunjin.” Jisung sat on the couch, he had a disappointed expression.

“So what?”

“So what?” he raised his eyebrows. “I invited you because I hoped I would be able to see you, you never spoke to me again. And also, Hyunjin, really?”

You started to feel angry, his fucking audacity.

“Jisung, you broke up with me, you’ve been hanging with a lot of girls since then, and now you’re upset because I was kissing somebody else?” you thought he wasn’t being rational.

“I don’t like him, I don’t want to see you with him again,” you looked at him hoping that he was joking, but he had a serious expression.

“You must be kidding me,” you laughed “I’m a single woman, single because you fucking broke up with me, I’ll fucking kiss whoever I want.”

“Stay away from him Y/N, I’m warning you,” he raised his voice. He looked intimidating when he was upset.

You felt your blood boiling, what the fuck was he thinking.

“You know what, I know why you don’t want me to go out with him,” you stood in front of him. “He is great, he is handsome, tall, his hair is fucking shiny. You are afraid that’ll he fuck me the way you never did, aren’t you?”

You crossed your arms, you didn’t want to fight with Jisung, but you were feeling so frustrated, you couldn’t hold your words anymore.

“You’re afraid he’s going to make me feel like the fucking woman you never made me fe-”

It was enough for Jisung, he grabbed you by your thighs and lifted you, carrying you on his shoulder. He dragged you to your room and threw you on the bed. You didn’t even have time to react before Jisung turned you around, your back now against his chest. He held your arms behind your back, putting his weight against your body.

“You are such a little brat, aren’t you?” he whispered against your ear. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson, I’m gonna show you who you fucking belong to.”

He sounded so angry and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t turning you on. He let go of your arms so he could unbuckle his belt, taking it off and using it to tie your arms behind your back. You tried to hold a moan, you didn’t want to give him the taste of knowing that you were turned on by him.

He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down without taking them off. He ripped your underwear, but you weren’t able to complain because seeing him like that was making you super wet.

You felt him moving in the bed when he started to unbutton his pants, taking them off. Jisung ran his thumb on your folds, playing with your pussy lips.

"So fucking wet for me," he groaned. He held your hips and lowered his body, putting his face on the level of your pussy. You could feel his breath before he started to run his tongue on your folds. At this point, you weren't able to hold your moans anymore, everything he was doing was driving you crazy. All the times you had sex with him, he was always soft and patient, taking his time with you. But the fact that he was acting rough because he was jealous made you feel like he desired you. "You always taste so fucking good," Jisung said, positioning himself on top of you. Slowly, he pushed his rock-hard cock inside of you, making you feel every inch. You gasped, feeling him stretching your pussy out like that. Once he was fully inside, Jisung started to move at a fast pace, not giving you time to get used to him inside of you. You could barely move, trying to take everything he was giving you.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" Jisung pulled your hair and started to suck on your neck, leaving marks behind. The fact that he didn't even bother to take all of your clothes off turned you on so bad. He raised your shirt and grabbed your boobs, pinching your nipple. "Answer me," he demanded. "Yes, y-es, I love it," you could barely answer. He never stopped his movements, fucking you from behind, leaving marks on your neck, claiming you as his.

“Please, I so close,” you moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching.

Jisung was panting, he was high also getting close. "Cum for me, slut." "Yes, yes, f-fuck," was all you could say before you felt your orgasm hitting you hard. Jisung kept going for a while until he let out a long moan, spilling his hot cum inside of you. He stayed on top of you for a while, breathing on your neck. "Y/N?" he said, after a while. "Hmm?" "We need to talk." You tried to lift your body but you couldn't because of Jisung's weight, so he lay by your side. He untied you and you turned around to face him. "I don't wanna talk," you protested. "This was the best that I felt for a while, I don't wanna ruin it by fighting with you." "Y/N, I-" Jisung stopped, thinking about what he was trying to say. "I'm sorry." You could see the regret on his face. "I thought I was being selfish by dating you, I barely had time to do anything besides working and studying, I didn't want to keep you in a relationship like this, you deserved better." Jisung got closer to you, avoiding your eyes. "After I graduated, I had more free time, and you had no idea how much I wanted to spend time with you, but I didn't have the guts to go after you after breaking up with you. I tried to forget about you by going to parties and meeting other girls, but it was never the same." He sat against the headboard. "When I saw you with Hyunjin, I felt so hurt, especially because you are right, he would be so much better for you." You looked at him, he looked like he was being honest. "You have no idea how hurt I was after seeing you with other girls." "I know. It's okay if you don't want to see me again, but I want you to know that you are important to me." "I think I need some time to think."

Jisung left your apartment. You got up to shower and clean the mess on your bed. All the time you kept thinking about what happened. You absolutely wanted to be with him, but at the same time, you were still upset about what happened. Eventually you called Jisung, since you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and he invited you to have dinner at his place on the next day, after work. You changed at work before going to his house, deciding to wear a white shirt with jeans. Jisung made pasta, it was easy and fast to cook but it was also your favorite food. The dinner was awkward in the beginning, both of you not knowing what to say to each other. "So...now that you graduated, what are your plans?" you tried to start a conversation to stop with the awkward silence. You were sitting at the table in his kitchen, in front of him. His mouth was full of food, so he took a while before answering your question. "Well, I got a job at that record company I've told you, do you remember?" "I do! That's really good to hear Jisung." He smiled at you. You always felt your heart melting when you saw his pretty smile. "Y/N... I'm really sorry for everything. I feel like I'm being selfish with you. You saw me with other girls and I lost it when I saw you with someone else. I don't know what to do but, it's okay if you choose to be with Hyunjin. I have no right to be upset at you." He avoided your eyes, too afraid of your reaction.

You wondered if you really should tell him that you dumped Hyunjin the day before. You messaged him, opening your heart to him and explaining your feelings for your ex-boyfriend. You still promised to give him his sweatshirt back. "Jisung, forget about Hyunjin. I wouldn't be able to get seriously involved with him, knowing that I still have feelings for you." Jisung looked at you, a glimpse of hope in his eyes. He reached for your hand. "I promise you I will be a better boyfriend if you still want me. You have no idea how much I miss you." "I want it. But this the last chance I'm giving you." Jisung got up and went to your side on the table, he held your face with his hands and kissed you. A kiss that made you dizzy by the passion it had. "I love you," he said. "I love you too." And after that, you knew that you had a new beginning with Jisung by your side.

#skz #stray kids #han jisung #stayhavennet #skz smut #stray kids smut #han smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut #han jisung angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #skz smut fanfic #stray kids smut fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

The 4 Types of Manipulation

A/N: hey hey hey cuties... just thought I’d drop in to tell you I love you and Harry Styles at the Grammy’s, oh and Miley Cyrus in general. Okay that’s it.

Summary: Spencer has to interrogate an unsub, but she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Not fluff, but not angst... angsty fluff? fluffy angst?

Content Warning: mentions of murder, manipulation, mentions of sex in the form of flirting, mentions of drug use, mentions of emotional abuse

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.8K

____

Nobody dared to take a breath out of place, every profiler was packed into the room watching with careful eyes at the sobbing girl in the interrogation room through the glass. No one knew what their first step should be, but I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Winging it was not something anyone in the BAU enjoyed doing, each case needed a thought out plan.

But they’ve seen this unsub before, they know the profile, the history, they know her. So why was she crying so hard that the weight of her head became unbearable, leaving her only option to sob into the crooks of her elbows as best as she could with wrists cuffed to the table?

Nobody knew, except for Spencer Reid.

Emily was hesitant, as expected, to blindly send in one of the best agents she’s ever seen into the room that with each tear shed slowly morphed into a lion’s den. Reid deserved better, she knew that, especially since the last time they dealt with an unsub like this one, Spencer had to be so far out of the loop that the case almost broke him.

He put up a good fight though, and if the determination set in his eyes wasn’t enough to inform the unit chief that she was not winning this argument, his deviance to storm through the door, startling the young woman chained down definitely did.

Why was it always Spencer?

Tears:

“P-please, I didn’t do anything.” Those were the first words anyone’s heard her say since the arrest, even if they were separated by sniffles and choked out sobs.

Spencer just stared down at her, not taking the risk to further entertain the stuttering girl with wet cheeks and tired eyes.

“I promise I’m not a murderer. You have to believe me, please.” That promise whispered so quietly made with unbreakable eye contact urged him to take a second to reevaluate the situation.

She was apprehended in place of Jacob Hughes, the man they had originally been looking for. There was a chance she wasn’t complicit, a chance she was innocent. Maybe Jacob placed a hair of hers at the latest crime scene because he knew they were closing in.

Or maybe she is just as sick as he is.

“Prove it,” Spencer said, his tone loud and assertive, leaving no room for argument. She didn’t plan on fighting his demand anyway.

“I- I haven’t seen Jacob for days. He drugged those men, and did h-horrible things. Those poor men.” This struck a nerve, everybody could tell, even the one person in this interaction that wasn’t a profiler.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed for a millisecond, but she saw it. She saw what her words were doing to him, after all, he used to be one of those poor men she felt so sorry for.

Another loud sob echoed off the concrete walls before she bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe he mur... did that to them. H-how could he?” Spencer watched as the young girl looked up to him like he held the answer to the million dollar question. He studied the way her eyes bounced around his face, looking for something, anything to relieve some confusion when it came to her fiancé.

“Jacob Hughes is what we call a vindictive narcissist and a sadist. He receives pleasure from hurting others, and in this case, drugging and torturing men because he feels he’s been wronged his whole life. The question, however, is why. I know you know, just like how I know you’re aware of his crimes.”

It was a blow so low it could’ve come from hell itself. Spencer regretted it immediately when he watched the way her whole body stiffened at the mention of her knowledge, but he had to be certain no matter the fallout.

“I-I still don’t understand. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone.” Denial, guilt and fear all jam packed into 3 little words that had his heart dangerously close to breaking. The sorrow in her eyes believable enough that Spencer left his standing position between the suspect and the door to sit directly across from her.

She watched his movements with careful eyes, only stealing glances from her peripherals before returning to her cuffed wrists.

“Maybe you’ve never seen him physically hurt anyone, but we know what he does to you.” It was the first and only time Spencer let any emotion, as fake as it was, show in his responses. How could he not try when the girl resumed her sobbing at the implication of her past deception from the man she loves?

“You know nothing,” she whispered back, her tone laced with defensive anger.

“I know everything.” Was he challenging her?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Was she challenging him?

“You know what it means.” Yes, he was.

“Do I?” Yes, she was.

The two stared at each other for the entire tone shift in the stuffy interrogation room. The other profilers on the other side of the mirror had no knowledge of how thick the tension had just become because unlike Spencer, they weren’t standing in the middle of it.

Small sniffles were the only noise breaking through the quiet until suddenly, they just stopped.

“Ugh, fine! You win this round. My eyes are starting to hurt from all this goddamn crying. Do people actually cry this much when you arrest them?”

Spencer leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms to clearly convey just how unamused he was with the girl’s antics. She watched him intently, picking apart every move down to the muscle trying to search for any indicators that her little performance worked even a fraction of what she was hoping for.

And she got her wish in the form of the agent’s fingers tapping lightly at his sides under perfectly muscular, if she may add, arms, because any other movement would have been too obvious.

Spencer Reid was getting nervous, because the second her facade faded, he lost the upper hand. She just had to get him trapped in here.

“Oh come on. Not even a ‘good job’? I wasn’t expecting full blown applause, but some appreciation for that show would be nice.” Still, Spencer gave her nothing. He needed her to keep talking, and filling silence was a sure way to make certain she did just that.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, but first you have to admit that I had you fooled for a second there.”

Lies:

“No.” Unexpectedly, instead of getting frustrated with Spencer’s refusal to play along, she just smiled brighter. This was exciting to her, and it was getting on his nerves.

“What gave it away? Did I look to the left before I spoke or something?” Spencer kept his mouth shut. “Come on, what’s my tell? Enlighten me.”

She copied his movements as Spencer leaned over the cool, metal table slightly, eyes racking over her face, lingering on certain parts for longer than others.

“No.” At this, she huffed back in her seat, leaving the close proximity that would later be used as a secret tool against the doctor before he had the chance to catch on.

“If you’re just going to shut down every single one of my proposals, then why am I here?”

“You’re here because you’re a suspect in a series of 7 murders in the past 5 weeks.” She perked up at his words, amusement dripping from her features.

“Finally, Doc has something more to say than just ‘no.’ Tell me, was that so hard?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Rolling her eyes would be giving ammo to the enemy, but the urge to do so was quite strong. In fact, she almost did until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the one way mirror.

“I’m serious when I say this,” she said, looking directly into Spencer’s eyes so he couldn’t accuse her of lying. “If you take the cuffs off, I’ll answer everything.”

“No.”

“Please! They’re seriously starting to hurt. I put 100% into that performance, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the-”

“Fine!” Spencer stood up carefully, not walking around the table until he was certain the girl wasn’t a flight risk, or worse. When he did finally make his way over, she sat completely still, not taking her eyes off where his fingers grazed hers as the handcuffs unlocked.

A breath of relief escaped her as she rubbed her wrists with the opposite hands, eventually feeling the blood fully return to all 10 fingers.

“Thank you.” It was so vulnerable and raw that it knocked Spencer back for a second. They locked eyes, and something deeper than he was ready for passed between them.

He didn’t know what it was, all he knew was that he hated it so much that he tore his eyes away immediately to return back to his original spot seated across from her.

“Answer me this-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Neither of them spoke for far too much time, and Spencer was growing more annoyed by the second.

“What?” It came out harsh, and mean, and downright cruel, but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh nothing, I just wasn’t going to answer anything. I really just wanted to fix my hair.” And, in being true to her words this time, she secured her hair into a messy bun using the elastic Spencer didn’t even realize was missing from his wrist.

“I’m putting the cuffs back on.”

“No wait,” she pleaded, halting Spencer’s move to get up. “They really did hurt, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“I don’t care.” He made his way over, forcefully grabbing both of her wrists before securing the handcuffs back on. Spencer only regretted his actions slightly when she winced at the metal now back to pressing into her skin.

“Yes you do. It’s your biggest flaw.” Instead of answering, Spencer just returned to his seat, leaning back with crossed arms. He didn’t need to listen to a psychopath tell him his flaws.

“You care too much,” she continued, not minding if he was listening or not. “It gets you hurt, other people hurt. I wish that wasn’t the case. You deserve better, Doc.”

Spencer didn’t engage, opting to gawk tiredly at the suspect, and watch the way her eyes flicker across his features, gauging for a reaction. She wasn’t done.

“Hey, okay, fine. I’m just messing with you,” she laughed, finally breaking her serious facade. “What? A girl can’t joke around while she’s being accused of murder?”

“Accused? Or caught?”

“Accused.” It was final, her tone immediately dropping to a fiery rage. Her defenses were up, and Spencer was never really good at playing on the offensive team.

This time, it was Spencer’s turn to analyze, watching the way the blood rushed to her cheeks with her rising anger level. How all of a sudden her eyes lost their playful glint, giving him the chance to fully see the soul buried deep in them. For a split second, she was completely unveiled right before his eyes.

Spencer, clearly not anticipating just how long the girl in front of him could hold her own, used his last bullet.

He placed the crime scene photos in front of her.

“You know who did this.” It wasn’t a question, he saw it in her eyes. Spencer watched the way they remained stoic even after looking at the bloody walls, and vacant eyes of the deceased.

“No.” Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Who are you protecting?” Her head shot up at his question, eyes flashing red before she blinked it away again. Subconsciously, she started to pick at her fingernails.

“No one.” It was a lie if he’s ever heard one.

Fear:

“You’re lying. Who is it?”

“I’m not lying.” She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Instead, she gave her undivided attention to her shaky hands confined to the table.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Enough! Who are you protecting?!” At this, Spencer stood up and slammed his hands against the table with a strong amount of force that she flinched hard enough to further irritate her wrists.

He felt awful, the bouncing back and forth between them should have given him enough indicators that she wasn’t lying out of spite. But he couldn’t back down, he had her cornered and her only way out was to tell the truth.

“No one.” She wouldn’t look at him, even as she whispered. “Please stop.”

Spencer truly believed that he had her in a bind, an inescapable one at that, but it wasn’t the truth. Oh no, what the profiler failed to realize was she had him where she needed him.

“I have no information to give you,” she whispered before tagging along. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time she apologized for something Spencer could have seen as an inconvenience.

He believed her, too.

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” That was his form of an apology. Spencer wasn’t going to go any further with it, even if she was coerced into lying by whoever the true unsub is, she was still getting on his nerves.

Her hands were still shaking at this point, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Spencer just slumped back into his seat, settling into the silence between them until ultimately he was either called out of the room, or she gave him another indication that her game hasn’t ended.

A loud sigh bounced off the walls. “I don’t care that you yelled in my face. You think it’s the first time a man’s done that? You’re not special, Doctor.”

“I never said I was.” So the game carries on, but this time, she didn’t smile at his sarcastic response. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed a breath before continuing.

“You really want to be though, don't you?”

Lust:

She was pushing his buttons, trying so hard to dig under his skin till she was unremovable. She wanted Spencer to leave this room with her on his mind for the rest of his days.

She was close too.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer deadpanned, trying to keep a cool tone. If he continued to hand her the ammunition she needed, he would be left defenseless.

“Oh come on, loosen up. I was just joking.” A smirk grew across her features, a thought crossing her eyes. One Spencer knew would not be in favor of his win tonight. “I could help you with that, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” He did. Spencer wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the woman sitting across the table wasn’t extremely attractive; she was. He just would never admit it aloud.

“I have a feeling you like to get rough, don’t you, Doctor?” She asked, sitting up and crossing her legs. The stare shared between the two of them was a mix between passion and anger, meeting in the middle to create a new kind of emotion.

“Is this fun for you?” She left out bait, and Spencer was stupid enough to fall for it. Emily once said that a pretty face slashed his IQ in half.

He couldn’t help but agree.

“Undo these cuffs, and I’ll show you what fun is.” She was toying with him now, and they weren’t going to get anywhere, but Spencer couldn’t find it within himself to get up and leave. She had him by the...

“I’m going to get that confession.” It was like he was five years old again, arguing on the playground with the older kids about how their insults didn’t make sense.

“What’re you going to do, punish me?” She asked, the last words in a hushed whisper. When Spencer’s cheeks grew hotter, and his eyes darker, she knew she had him.

“You do like to get rough! My, my, Doctor, you're keeping me at the edge of my seat here.” She let out a boisterous laugh before really digging the knife deeper. “Is that why you kept the cuffs on?”

Before he could snap back, the door flew open and Emily stood there with a tablet in her hand. “You need to see this.”

Spencer got up to leave, thankful for the reprieve even if he did have to return to the interrogation after speaking with Emily. He almost made it to the door before a voice called out behind him.

“Wait!” She called after him, the cuffs rattled when she instinctively went to reach for Spencer. “Aren’t you going to answer my question, Doctor.”

Playing chess his whole life, Spencer had never once played a game where Checkmate presented itself unexpectedly. He was always at least three moves ahead in his mind, seeing the inevitable end before he even began his gameplay. There was a first for everything, because his last move suddenly arose.

“No.”

_____

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

I Remember (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: uM hi saw ur request post while i was scrolling through malcolm bright x reader tag lol so may i request an x reader w malcolm where reader's gil's niece or smth so she and mal know each other before he joined the team- and one day where mal was being a dumbass and reader was told to drive mal home and when she was securing his restraints he jokingly asked her to sing to him aNd she did sing and fell asleep on the bed by opposite mal aND he got a good amount of sleep like no night terrors and next day he accidentally slipped that reader ''slept'' w him and gils just like excuse me wtf?? Djkdkdlsjsjs idk i got this idea when i was staring at the ceiling at 4 am instead of doing my essays that were due in the morningxD sorry its p long. Thanks and have a good day/night (by @iwillboilyourteeth), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Malcolm got hurt again. What a surprise. And, as always, you were right there to take care of him. Tonight, though, things took a turn. For the better or for the worse? Only the future would tell.

Words: 2,142

Warnings: language, love me some sarcasm, fluff, so much fluff, I love writing for Prodigal Son (keep the requests coming)

Song used: “I Remember” by Jason Manns

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were sitting in your apartment when your phone started ringing loudly, interrupting your movie marathon. Sighing exaggeratedly, you checked who decided to annoy you at this time. It was not too late but you liked your alone time a lot. Gil. Oh no. That could never be good.

“Uncle Gil. I hope whatever you’re about to tell me is more important than Harry Potter.” pausing the movie you were currently watching, you did not even give him enough time to greet you. A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. One, that made you laugh.

“(Y/N).” his voice was stern & you knew better than to mess with him. Yet, you could not help yourself.

“Yeah, that’s me. You called me, after all.” joking to ease the tension, your giggling was cut short by his next words.

“Malcolm is a dumbass.”

“What a revelation.”

“He’s hurt.” Gil stated. Throwing your head back in frustration, you knew he only called you if he knew it was not too bad. But bad enough to need your help. “I need you to come get him.” it was not even a question, more like an order. Immediately, you grabbed the stuff you needed & headed out of your apartment towards your car.

“Can I yell at him for being reckless?” opening the door, you got inside but before you started the engine, you waited for the call to end. Could not risk getting youself hurt. Malcolm was the stupid one, not you.

“I already did that but I’m sure he’ll appreciate to hear it again.”

“Good.”

“Drive safe.” Gil noted.

“See you in ten.” & with that you drove to the precinct where he would most likely wait for you.

Growing up, you spent a lot of time at Gil’s. Malcolm was there almost always, so you got to meet each other pretty early on. Deep down, you cared for him. More than you should care for a friend. And because of him being a profiler, you were sure he picked up on that as well. Malcolm was just nice enough to not comment on it. Besides, he would tell you that he was too broken anyway. The thing was that it never scared you away. It did the exact opposite, actually. It only made you want him more.

Did you ignore almost every speed limit? Possibly. Your knuckles were white because you had gripped the steering wheel so tightly. One of these days, you would kill Malcolm. He kept getting himself hurt & you were tired of being the one to drive him home afterwards. Of course, you knew Gil only called you because Malcolm trusted you enough but that did not change the fact that you were exhausted.

“What happened?” approaching Gil, your eyes looked around for a sign of Malcolm. “And where the hell is he?”

“Bathroom.” his finger pointed over. “He didn’t call backup & thought dealing with it alone would turn out fine.” Gil was, you could tell, almost as tired as you. Not only of Malcolm acting recklessly but also because of a long day at work.

“What a surprise.” your sarcasm got the best of you. But it helped you coping with your feelings sometimes. “Uncle Gil?” his head snapped up when you said his name.

“Yes?”

“Go home & get some sleep. I got it from here, promise.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & with a nod, he turned around & walked away.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm noticed you when he walked out of the bathroom. His face was covered in bruised & by the way he was limping, you were sure that his entire body had to be sore. “Where’s Gil?”

“I sent him home.” shrugging as if it were nothing, you gave Malcolm a look. He knew what it meant but apparently, he wanted to play dumb.

“What?” his head tilted slightly & if it were not for his damn puppy eyes & for the fact that he was hurt, you would be the cause of his bruises. Not quite literally but still. Rolling your eyes at him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but we caught the killer, so it was worth it.” he casually stated.

“Is it really worth risking your life, Mal?” shaking your head shortly, you were not in the mood to discuss this any further. A simple gesture of your hand was enough to show him that you wanted to get going. “Come on, I’m gonna bring you home.”

“You’re mad.” Malcolm noted when the both of you walked outside back to your car. Sighing loudly, you stopped for a brief moment.

“Yes. I’m mad because I can’t even count how many times we’ve been in this exact situation anymore. And it sucks. Because every single time Gil calls me, I think he’ll tell me that you didn’t make it out like you always do.” Malcolm’s eyes widened when you explained how you were feeling. Your body brushing past his made him turn around & follow you without another word. It was silent between you two until you arrived inside Malcolm’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he spoke up, his voice much softer now. When you saw him struggling to pull off his coat, you walked over to him to help him out.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Mal.” your back faced him when you went to put his jacket away.

“I do. You always take care of me when shit like that happens. And I wanted you to know that I don’t take that for granted. If I were you, I would’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”

“You know as much as I do that this won’t ever happen.” & it was true. Malcolm could mess up over & over again. Could get himself hurt & all that. But you would always be here to catch him, no matter what.

“I don’t deserve you.” his eyes bore into yours & by the look he gave you, you knew he was not talking about you taking care of him when he was hurt. He was referring to you as a person. Basically, he wanted to make you understand that he was not worthy of your love. Which was bullshit to you.

“You deserve so much & it hurts that you don’t see it.” the conversation dropped for the time being. Navigating your way through his apartment, you looked for something he could wear to bed. Soon enough, you found something suitable & when you walked back into the room ,you found Malcolm already sitting on his bed, head hanging low. He stopped you when he noticed your hands grabbing the shirt he was wearing. Sending him a confused look, your eyebrows raised in question.

“I think I can handle it from here on.” taking the clothes from you, he went to strip himself out of his workwear. Surprisingly, he could not move his body enough to achieve anything.

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, don’t act like that, Malcolm.” it was not the first time you had helped him undressing. As mentioned earlier, the two of you had been in this situation too many times to count.

It did not take long & he was wearing comfortable clothes. After asking if he needed anything else, you went straight to his restraints & helped strapping him in. It amazed Malcolm how you were not weirded out by the fact that he had to be held down in order to have at least a few hours of sleep.

“(Y/N)?” his voice was barely above a whisper but your humming let him know that you heard him. “Can you sing something for me?” it was meant to be a joke, he simply wanted to ease the tension between you guys. Thinking about it for a second, you came to the conclusion that it would not hurt to do that. Maybe it would help him fall asleep? Malcolm eyes widened when you actually started singing quietly. It was soothing & he closed his eyes to focus solely on your voice.

Hey you, when I saw you walk in there

And I couldn’t help but stare

At the way you move your hands

‘Cause it’s the little things you do that drive me crazy

And now, let’s forget about the crowd

And just concentrate on us

So that you can know what I want you to know

I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

Only if you would hold me tight

As we talked all through the night

About those things you won’t tell no one else

I know that we’ve got long ways to go

But I want you to know

That I’ll be there till the end, so don’t you worry

I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

‘Cause I fell in love with you-ou-ou

After you finished, Malcolm still had his eyes closed, he just laid there for a while, recalling the words of the song. He knew what you were trying to tell him but if he had to be honest, he was scared. If the two of you were to try something, he thought you would leave him the moment you realized his demons were too much for someone to handle. Malcolm did not hear you leave his apartment, neither did he feel a movement. Opening his eyes slowly, he found you sound asleep right next to him. Your peaceful form made him smile brightly. Contemplating if he should wake you up, he decided against it in the end. Deep down, he knew you would not judge him he if he had a night terror next to you. And if he were honest, having you with him made him incredibly calm. That night, he fell asleep almost immediately, without any nightmares invading his dreams. The reason for it was you. Only you.

Malcolm woke up early the next morning. Work called. Okay, maybe Gild had told him to take a few days off but everyone who knew Malcolm, knew that he did not listen to such orders. Or any orders, in general. You were still asleep when he loosened his restraints. He left you a note behind before leaving his apartment for work.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?” Gil questioned the second Malcolm entered the office where the rest of the team was already up & working.

“You did but I’m fine.” Gil rolled his eyes at his words. Usually, whenever Malcolm insisted on being fine, he was everything but. Examining his face closer, Gil was shocked to see him so…well rested?

“Wait. How much did you sleep last night? You look unusually awake.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s because I slept with (Y/N) last night.” Malcolm spoke casually & went to examine the pictures that were displayed on the table in the middle of the room. Gil’s eyebrows raised at that. Dani only sent him a weird look & JT almost choked on his coffee at Malcolm’s confession. There were some things he did not want to know & his love life was one of it.

“Excuse me, what now?” Gil was the first one to press the topic further. Everyone knew how protective he could get when it came to you, his niece. When Malcolm turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking sternly at him. Wait, what did he say? Realization washed over his face & he only now noticed how wrong his words sounded without any given context.

“No, wait…That came out wrong.” closing his eyes briefly, he prepared an explanation for his confused co-workers. “(Y/N) drove me home yesterday & she helped me with my restraints & all. She fell asleep & I didn’t wanna wake her up.” Malcolm’s hands gestured wildly, not wanting to give them the wrong impression of last night’s events. JT pretended to understand what he explained even though he had no idea & frankly, he did not care too much. Malcolm had lost Dani’s interest a while ago, she continued working on the next case. Only Gil was left. He gave Malcolm a knowing look, went over to him & patted him on the shoulder.

“You better take care of her, Bright. Or you have to deal with me.” his threatening smile creeped Malcolm out but he knew Gil was only trying to keep you safe. Maybe you were the right one for him. Last night was proof enough. It was scary to take that next step but on the other hand, he wanted to take that risk. He wanted to give it a try. For the both of you.

Published (04/20/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @octopus5555 (thanks for your support <3)

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bentforkent · 4 years

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polaroid

spencer reid x gender neutral!reader

no content warnings (except sweet fluff and banter, as per usual)

word count: 1581

in which spencer is your cute roommate

“spencer reid, i swear to god, if you don’t take out this trash like i asked you to two days ago, i might scream.”

“you’re screaming anyways, to be fair.”

you let out a frustrated groan, shaking your head at him and stalking to your room.

spencer was a great roommate, usually. he’d listed his guest room for rent years ago, and you, desperate for a space to call your own, had jumped. his apartment was nice, dark walls covered in organized clutter spencer had accumulated over the years. when you came to tour the space, you peered up at his walls. there were newspaper clippings, receipts, nightclub wristbands, polaroid photos, all organized into a neat grid.

“okay, i’ll take the room,” you said, deciding that a man who was this meticulous and sentimental couldn’t possibly murder you in your sleep. you would’ve rented the room either way, honestly, the price of the place was too good to pass up. you figured that’s probably because not many people wanted to live with a random man, but you had chalked spencer up to be pretty much harmless. “under one condition,” you stated.

spencer was taken aback by this, not really believing you were in the position to put stipulations onto your agreement. “what’s your condition?” he inquired, choosing his words carefully so as not to promise you anything.

“i get to put some of my stuff up on the walls too.”

this he could get behind. at least you weren’t asking to completely overhaul his interior design. in fact, you embraced it, and wanted to be involved. he liked that. his last roommate had been somewhat of a recluse, and as much as spencer was okay with not being bothered, the roommate’s presence made his apartment feel significantly less like home.

but when you moved in, you never left him alone. spencer’s introverted nature means he should’ve been completely bothered by this. but you’re so warm, such a presence, that he embraced it. every time you begged him to watch a movie with you, go get dinner with you, or to just sit at the kitchen table with you while he did his paperwork, his heart stirred. he enjoyed living with you, and you him. except when he forgets to take out the trash.

“y/n,” he whines, following you. spencer, in all of his softness, can’t handle when you’re upset with him. “i’m sorry i didn’t take out the trash,” he says, pushing your door open and flopping onto your bed next to you.

you look up from your phone to glance at him.

“i would love to get takeout tonight, but we can’t because there’s nowhere to throw the containers away,” you say dryly, turning back to your phone, and carding one hand through his hair. he makes a noise of dissent and sticks out his bottom lip. you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger.

“well i could go take it out now, but you’re playing with my hair,” he says. you scratch at his scalp gently, then remove your hand.

“go, then. i’ll order food. thai?”

when he comes back, you’re sitting on the rug of the living room, flicking through your dvd collection.

“wanna watch a movie?” you ask. “i’m picking.”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “i can’t remember the last time i picked, y/n.”

“yeah, you like boring movies.” you look up at him, and he gives you a pleading look. “fine. you can pick.”

he ends up picking some foreign movie you have to rent online. he promises profusely that he’ll translate in your ear the whole time, and that’s enough to sell you. when your food arrives, you place his meal on a plate like he likes it, and opt to eat yours out of the styrofoam box. you curl up against his side, and he wraps his arm around you.

“thanks for taking out the trash, finally,” you murmur. he shushes you. god forbid you interrupt his movie.

he begins to whisper translations to you, and you’re immediately tense. you’re overwhelmed. his arm is around you, his lips brushing against your ear, his hand in your hair. and spencer’s just your roommate, you know this. but that doesn’t mean he’s not attractive. anyone with eyes could see that. you just had to keep that to yourself, because you lived together and it would be weird if he ever found out you had a tiny crush on him.

okay, a big crush on him.

you discovered your feelings for spencer a few months ago when the two of you had spent the night at a hotel for the weekend, simply because spencer was off of work and you wanted to lounge by the pool with him. both of you needed to relax, and a mini-vacation had been perfect. there was only one bed in the room, because you booked the smallest (and cheapest) room possible, but neither of you were phased. you’d spent the night in each other’s beds multiple times before, usually after a particularly long, deep conversation or a movie night.

“do you think god exists?” you asked, lying in bed with him.

“oh my god, go to sleep, y/n,” spencer groaned. you pouted, turning away from him and hiking the blanket up to your chin.

a beat passes.

“do you want to go explore?” you asked. there was always something exciting about finding a weird room in a hotel you’d never been to before.

spencer let out a heavy sigh and sat up, flicking the lamp on. “no, y/n.” you knew he was irritated with you. it was 3 am, but you just couldn’t sleep. his dark circles were pronounced, his shoulders tense. “how can i help you right now?” he asked.

“you don’t want to help me, you just want to go to sleep,” you said petulantly, back still turned to him.

“if i help you, i can fall asleep, because you won’t be bothering me with all your questions,” he replied, voice low and gravelly.

“no, turn the lights off.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“leave me alone, i’m trying to sleep, spencer.”

spencer was too tired to argue with you, so he turned off the light and laid back down, desperate for sleep. it took all of two minutes for you to open your mouth again.

“spencer?”

he didn’t answer, but you knew he was awake from the pattern of his breathing.

“spencer,” you said again, dragging out the word in a sing-songy tone and flipping to face him.

he opened his heavy eyes and gazed at you. “shut up and go to sleep,” he said, and punctuated his sentence with a firm kiss to your lips. you were stunned into silence by the action. satisfied, spencer turned away from you and promptly fell asleep. you didn’t say another word until morning, and even then, neither one of you brought it up, falling back into your normal relationship with ease.

as you’re watching spencer’s russian movie, he can tell you’re on edge. he intentionally brushes his lips against your earlobe just to watch you squirm. didn’t you know he’s a profiler? he’s had you figured out for years. he knows all your tells. he knows that you’re head-over-heels for him. he likes this, because he feels the same way. spencer takes pleasure in bothering you simply because it gives him power that he doesn’t generally have with you. you’re so headstrong, so sure of yourself. but when his breath is fanning over your neck, he’s in control.

you pull away from his grasp suddenly, accidentally flinging a bit of pad thai across the couch. he chuckles, and you narrow your eyes at him at the sound. “you’re doing this on purpose!”

“doing what on purpose?” he says coyly.

“getting me all hot and bothered!”

“is that what’s happening?” he asks, a teasing tone to his voice. he sets his plate down on the coffee table, but you hold your takeout container to your chest as if it creates a barrier between you and him. your eyes are wide, and again, you’re surprised into silence.

“when are you gonna admit it, y/n?” he asks. if this were a normal conversation between the two of you, you would ask him “admit what,” but you knew what he was talking about.

“you’re mean,” you say simply, placing your meal down and crawling over to him. “you win. kiss me now.”

he cups your face gently and pulls you into a deep kiss. there’s no hesitation before you’re kissing him back, moving closer to straddle his waist. he moans softly into your mouth, and you take his parted lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss. your hands find their way into his hair, tugging softly. for all of his cockiness earlier, you’re in control now. he’s putty in your hands. his hands reach the hem of your shirt, and he pulls away to ask you for permission.

“wait!” you exclaim. you clamber out of his lap, grabbing his polaroid camera off of the shelf where he keeps it. he gives you a questioning look, but you shake your head. “smile, spence,” you sing. he grins. he looks happy. his lips are swollen, you note, but you think only you would notice. his eyes are honey colored, illuminated by the forgotten tv playing across from him. you snap the picture, and pin it to the wall.

(author’s note: if you’re reading this and you liked it, read my series to the moon and to saturn!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #my writing #spencer reid fanfiction

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sammininoofthelord · 3 years

Text

Last chapter of the 5+1 "5 times Aziraphale shielded Crowley from the rain, and one time he didn't."!

Can't believe is over!

Collab with @zeckarin-blaise

It is Crowley's last day as Nanny Ashtoreth, and she needs to break the news to Aziraphale.

You can read it on Ao3 by Zeckarin or bellow

Until a few minutes ago, the garden had been a true haven of peace. Crowley sighed in her coffee cup, wondering for the third time if she should close the kitchen’s window or not.

Eavesdropping was important, but she liked to drink her coffee in peace.

The Antichrist’s furious yelling started again, so loud Crowley wondered if he was unknowingly using some part of his powers to reach such volume.

“ I don’t want to go to Scotland!” screamed Warlock at the top of his lungs.

“ This is an important occasion for your father, and you will come with us,” answered his mother, only slightly lower.

“ Scotland sucks !” yelled the boy, stomping his feet on the ground and effectively squashing two tulips in the process.

From her vantage point, Crowley scowled. She did teach the boy to ground the world under his heels, but the poor flowers had been doing their best and were, as the rest of the garden, flawless. She would have to have a word with her charge when he came back.

With a pang, she remembered there would be no word to be had upon Warlock’s return.

Blessed social conventions, decreeing that a boy of nine wasn’t in need of a nanny anymore. The next two years would be critical in shaping Warlock’s mind, and the role would befall another demon.

What kind of stupid fake name was ‘Harrison’ anyway?

With a low growl, she finished her cup, looking at the coffee machine. She needed more, but it would have to wait. There was a much more pressing matter to take care of.

Where was that stupid angel when she needed to see him? He usually spent half of his mornings here in the kitchen, chatting and drinking tea with the cook, who had a soft spot for ‘ that nice Mr Francis’ , and always used him as her personal taster*.

*Not that the angel complained. Mrs. Griffiths was a wonderful cook, and had been the recipient of many small blessings in the last four years.

A movement in the gardens caught her eyes, and she blinked in surprise.

What was Aziraphale doing trimming the edge? In all his time as a gardener, he had always miracled them neat every few weeks.

Tilting her head, she focused on her old nemesis. Was that… sweat on his forehead?

“ What in Manchester is going on?” she mumbled, putting her empty cup down and heading to the door.

“ Hiya, angel.”

Aziraphale started, the movement making him snap his clippers. He watched in fascinated horror as the top of the bush fell to the ground.

“ Trying a new style?” asked Crowley with a chuckle. “I’m not sure Harriet is very keen on modern art, you know.”

“ Crowley!” chided Aziraphale in a hushed voice, “How many times will I have to ask you not to sneak up on me!”

“ I’m a demon and a snake, sneaking is my thing , angel. The question is why are you here, working your arse off like a real gardener?”

Aziraphale straightened himself haughtily. “I am a real gardener! And I am taking my work seriously!”

“ Ha!” scoffed Crowley, summoning all of Nanny Ashtoreth’s poise and sense of decorum to stop herself from laughing out loud, “You haven’t cut a single leaf of grass in four years, you lazy bastard! If you want to lie to me, make it at least a little more plausible.”

For a moment, the angel seemed like he was about to answer with outrage, but something shifted in his look and he deflated visibly.

Crowley squinted. “ What ?” she snapped.

Aziraphale shrugged, picking up his clippers. “Nothing. I… may have had a visit from Gabriel this morning.”

Crowley hissed through her teeth. “What did that wanker say this time? Let me guess: too many frivolous miracles? Is that why you’re butchering those poor boxwoods?”

She unfolded her black umbrella in angry motions and held it over her friend with pursed lips. Stupid wanker Gabriel, forcing her angel to work in the blazing sun like this. Typical.

The angel mumbled something unintelligible.

“ I am afraid I didn’t quite catch your meaning, Brother Francis,” said Crowley dryly.

“ I said he ordered me to quit!” cried the angel in anguish.

“ He WHOT?”

“ Not so loud!” pleaded Aziraphale, looking up at the sky. “He asked me to quit my position here. Apparently there is a lack of angelic intervention in Soho, and I am needed there.”

“ That… doesn’t make sense,” said Crowley, frowning. “Do you reckon they’re afraid you’ll succeed?”

Aziraphale blinked, and another perfectly trimmed bush lost its head. “Why would they want that? I am trying to avoid the end of the world, of course they approve of it!”

“ Why else would they want you out, angel?” Crowley gasped in realisation. “Oh! Are they replacing you too?”

Aziraphale suddenly got very still. “Replacing?” he asked cautiously. “What do you mean? Is Hell replacing you?”

Crowley shrugged, her perfectly coiffed hair not moving one millimetre. “Yeah, they’re sending another demon tomorrow to take over.”

“WHAT?” yelled Aziraphale, throwing the clippers away so hard they sank into the ground to the handle. “How DARE they? I will not let this happen, Crowley, I swear to you! I will smite them the instant they put a foot on Earth, and every other after them if I need to!”

Crowley reached out in a hurry, grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook furiously until the Heavenly light dimmed around him.

“ Not replacing me on Earth ! Here! With Warlock! They’re sending someone to take my place here !” she said urgently, waving around.

“ Oh,” said Aziraphale. “Maybe you should have started with that.”

“ Honestly, angel, don’t you think I would have looked a little more stressed if they’d called me back to Hell ?”

Aziraphale pouted, looking away. “Well… possibly,” he admitted.

“ Possibly,” mimicked Crowley, rolling her eyes. “Really, you’re unbelievable. Here you are, keeping a low profile and not using miracles so Heaven doesn't know you stayed and disobeyed them, and you go and try to summon Heavenly Grace directly from the source!”

“ Ah, yes. Thank you for stopping me, dear girl. It was not the most discreet endeavour.”

“ Tell you what? Let’s go back to London together tomorrow. I’ll give you a ride. We did our best here anyway.”

“ But… what about Warlock? He needs positive influences in his life!”

“ Angel… there’s a new demon arriving here tomorrow. They’ll spot you, it’s way too dangerous. We will find a way to keep an eye on Warlock,” she added, seeing the angel’s resolution weakening.

“ All right, then. If you are sure it is the right thing to do,” conceded Aziraphale.

“ You won’t be able to stop the Apocalypse if you’re dead, angel,” grumbled Crowley.

“ Quite right.”

Aziraphale looked around, made a face at the massacred edges, and sighed. “Well. Better start packing!” he said, clapping his hands to get rid of the dirt.

“ You’re going to leave it that way, right?” asked Crowley with a knowing smirk.

“ I am sure the next gardener will have no trouble taking care of it,” lied her friend, walking towards the house.

Crowley followed him, feeling both proud and impressed.

#good omens #good omens fanart #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #good omens fanfic #digital drawing

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years

Text

Open Secrets— Nessian AU

Prompt submission by Nonnie— Reverse fake dating au where everyone thinks you’re dating and you’re keeping it a secret, but you’re not.

Thanks to whoever submitted this prompt! I’d originally completed this prompt for Feysand, but I struggled between that one and this one! Thanks to @awesomelena555 and @bookstantrash for encouraging me to post the Nessian version too!

——————————————————————————

Nesta pulled up to Rhysand and Feyre’s new home about 30 minutes after their house-warming party had begun. It was certainly a little out of character of her, being that she was someone who considered five minutes early as “on time”. It wasn’t really her fault. Elain had called her right before she pulled into their neighborhood to let her know they had drastically underestimated the amount of alcohol they would need for all the guests. Nesta had driven a little past the neighborhood to make the supplemental booze run, and she was about to walk into this party a hero.

She slipped into the party, aiming to keep a low profile. She absolutely hated arriving somewhere and being the sudden center of attention, so she was hoping to avoid that. The party was split; half indoors and half outdoors, making it all the easier for her.

She took inventory of her surroundings as she made her way toward the kitchen. There were several small groups sprinkled around in conversation, and some were outside playing yard games or drinking games. She already felt hungover just watching them.

Her eyes landed on Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian. They were off to the side, all sipping on drinks, and talking enthusiastically with each other. She noticed Cassian seemed to be on the receiving end of whatever hell they were giving, if his rigid posture and frequent eye rolling was any indication. She chuckled a little at that; he probably had that coming.

He excused himself abruptly from the conversation, tossing his beer bottle into a trash can a few feet away. He walked toward the house, and Nesta quickly directed her attention back to unloading the beer and liquor to wherever it needed to be stored in the kitchen. She heard the sliding glass door open, then close, followed by heavy footsteps walking through the kitchen.

“Hey, Nes! When did you get here?” He threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side-hug while she worked.

It seemed like such a small thing to most, but the fact that she and Cassian had made it to this point impressed her. With the way things had started when they’d originally met, things looked bleak for them on the friendship front. She wasn’t sure when his snark and cocky demeanor shifted from infuriating to endearing, but she had come to learn that those traits were such a tiny part of who he was. All of that considered, she leaned in to the casual side-hug, not wanting to take their progress for granted.

“Just now, actually. I haven’t even finished unloading the car.”

”Damn, sweetheart. How much booze did you bring?!” He grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it as he leaned back on the counter.

”Probably not enough if we’re sharing with the likes of you,” she teased. She felt a small tap between her shoulder blades, followed by a ping sound. She turned around to see Cassian’s beer cap sliding across the floor. That little shit actually threw his beer cap at her.

She glared at him and was met with a sideways smirk on his face. He broke into a laugh when she didn’t back down and rocked forward to push himself off the counter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you by helping you unload the car. Keep me company?” he requested.

”Fine. On the way you can tell me what your friends were giving you shit about outside. I’m starting to think maybe you earned it,” she taunted.

The cadence of his steps was interrupted just a fraction by her question, but he recovered quickly enough.

”Actually, I don’t know that I did this time.”

”Well now I’m definitely intrigued.”

He hesitated for several seconds, his jaw working as he thought through what to say next.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” he stated, as he opened the backseat of her car. He grabbed the rest of the drinks before shutting her car door firmly.

“That makes me want to know even more, Cassian.”

”Okay, fine. But just remember that you wanted this. And you can’t be mad or get weird about it.”

His disclaimer gave her pause, but she nodded her head anyway. Curiosity won this round.

“For whatever reason, they have their minds made up that you and I are seeing each other and are trying to keep it on the down low. I’m still not entirely sure why they think we would keep it under wraps if we were involved, but that’s their theory right now.” His words came out in a rush as if he was trying to get it over with and pretend they never had the conversation.

Nesta merely blinked several times before replying, “Hm. Okay. So I get that they didn’t tell you why they think we’d hide it, but did they at least say why they think we’re a thing in the first place?”

Cassian rolled his eyes as he unloaded the remaining drinks into the refrigerator.

“Who the fuck knows with those two? All I remember them saying was something about how we have way too much tension between us and how we went from hating each other to being friendly overnight.” He took a swig of his beer.

”So, since we’re nice to each other now, we’re fucking?” There was no frustration in her tone. She was actually a little amused at how faulty the logic was.

Cassian choked on his beer; the result of not being prepared for that question coming from Nesta, of all people. He coughed into his elbow several times before he recovered.

“Caught me off guard, sorry. Yes, apparently, but I told them to knock it off.”

She was lost in thought for several seconds. “This could be fun,” she mused.

”What could be fun?” His confusion was obvious all over his face.

“The more we try to prove them wrong, the more they’re going to think they’re right. So why not just lean into it and have a little fun messing with them.”

”Oo. I like this. Get them all riled up about it and let them down later. I can’t say I’d hate to watch them squirm a little,” he replied.

”Exactly. But if we do this, we have to commit. We can’t question each other in front of anyone else, or the whole thing is shot,” she warned. “If we feel like we’re not on the same page, we reconvene here and make our way back out there once we figure it out.”

He smiled at her, a true broad smile, with the gleam of mischief in his hazel eyes. “You’re a wicked little woman, Archeron. I love it.”

——————————————————————————

They walked from the kitchen together, breaking apart once Nesta started making her rounds to greet everyone. Cassian walked back over to his friends, who were both clearly amused with themselves even still. He wanted to throttle both of them.

“What took you so long, Cass?” Rhys asked, a cocky little half smile on his face.

”Helped Nesta unload all the booze out of her car.” He took a long swig of his beer. “Don’t you say a fucking word, you prick.”

”Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rhys replied, earning a laugh from Azriel.

Both of them looked over his shoulder just as he felt someone approach him from behind. He felt a small hand rest on his bicep, turning him slightly toward them.

“Hey, Cass,” Nesta beamed up at him, and he swore his heart stopped. “I never said thank you for helping me.” She glanced down at her hand, and quickly drew it away to put it in her back pocket. She looked down at the ground and cleared her throat before looking at him again. “So, thank you. I owe you one.”

Wow, she was good. She looked every bit the part of someone who lost her bearings and was caught being affectionate. His returning smile was genuine.

“Of course. Happy to do it,” he replied, as she turned her attention to greet Rhysand and Azriel.

She walked away to make her next stop in greetings, and he made sure to watch her go for just a second longer than necessary. When he turned his attention back to the guys, they were smirking at each other like the smug bastards they were. This was going to be too easy.

——————————————————————————

The next couple of hours progressed in a similar fashion. Surprisingly, they stayed on the same page without much effort, playing off of each other from one scenario to the next. They gravitated to each other when their paths happened to cross, but they kept their interactions short. If someone walked up on them, they slipped away somewhat awkwardly as if they were guilty of something they shouldn’t be doing. They easily slipped small, seemingly intimate actions into each interaction whenever they knew Rhys or Azriel was nearby. Nesta would rest her hand on Cassian’s forearm briefly as they laughed. Cassian would shove her with his shoulder in passing, earning a playful scolding from Nesta. A couple of times when they were standing in a small group, Nesta would subtly grab Cassian’s drink to take a sip and hand it back as if it were second nature. In response, Cassian would rub his thumb absent-mindedly over where her lips had touched the rim. By this point, Rhys and Azriel were nearly bursting with their desire to call them out on their behavior.

They partnered up for a couple of games, making it a point to stand an arm’s length apart. However, occasionally when things would go their way, they would engage in a celebratory hug and simultaneously spring apart to their original places like they forgot themselves. Nesta decided they worked incredibly well together despite being such an unlikely alliance. They won the second game and celebrated with loud cheers and a high five. Nesta caught Cassian’s eye briefly, muttering “Kitchen, in 5” through her smile.

She made her way there and busied herself with refilling her drink. Right on time, she heard Cassian’s heavy footfall entering the kitchen. She turned around, meeting his amused expression with one of her own.

”Hey! Everything okay? Am I not reading this right?” he asked.

“No, no, no. You’re great. I just wanted to talk without eyes on us for a second to see how you think things are going. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught Rhys and Azriel glancing over at us,” she said through a chuckle. His shoulders seemed to relax at her reassurance.

He responded with a laugh of his own. “Oh, they’re crawling out of their skin. Especially Rhys. It kills him when he thinks he’s right but can’t say anything.”

”That’s definitely like him,” Nesta joked.

Around Cassian’s shoulder, she saw Azriel through the glass door approaching the house. She glanced up at her partner-in-crime with a conspiratorial grin across her face.

“Hug me. Hurry— make it good.” He did as he was told, looping an arm around her waist and cradling her head to his chest. “When you hear the door open, back up.”

A few more seconds passed before they heard the long slide of the glass door as Azriel pulled it open. Cassian made a show of tensing and pulling away quickly, clearing his throat. Nesta shoved her hands into her back pockets as she had done several times over the course of the day when she was “caught” touching her rumored lover.

“Well, hey guys. How’s it going?” Azriel asked with a cocky, sideways smile.

Cassian mumbled something about needing the restroom and quickly fled the premises, leaving Nesta to brave Azriel alone. He’d definitely be paying for that one.

“Good. I needed a little break from outside. Got a little overwhelmed with all the hustle and bustle.”

”Mm. Understandable,” he replied, grabbing another beer from the fridge and turning toward her. “What was all that about? With Cass?”

”What was what?”

“Nesta. All the hugging I had the misfortune of walking in on. What’s going on with you two?” He leaned back onto the counter, crossing one ankle over the other and putting his free hand in his front pocket.

It took her a second to gather her thoughts before she decided she didn’t particularly care for being the only flustered one around here. Additionally, she was annoyed that Azriel seemed so cocksure about his position, as if Nesta were totally oblivious to all the questioning he and Rhys had done earlier. Granted, as far as they knew, she was, but that was neither here nor there.

It was time for the tables to start turning, even if she hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Cassian yet. However, if he were that concerned about it, he wouldn’t have completely abandoned her to deal with Azriel. He was along for the ride now and would have to go with the flow.

Azriel wasn’t one to be easily flustered, that much Nesta knew. She knew she wouldn’t be able to be incredibly subtle because he would see right through it. She also knew he wasn’t above continuing to point on the flaws in her logic if she were to get caught in that web. She had to be decisive, creative, and she had to commit.

She walked over a little closer to him, facing him and propping her hip on the counter next to where he was leaning. She looked up into his face, and he eyed her suspiciously, an apprehensive look dawning over his features. Perfect.

“So, that’s in then. You’ve cracked our code?” she asked quietly.

”I wouldn’t call what you two have a ‘code’, Nes.” Arrogant bastard. Any doubt or guilt she’d felt for deceiving her friends had officially dwindled to zero. Azriel’s response had served her in that way, at least. She inched slightly closer to him, running her fingertips from his forearm down to his wrist, where his hand met his pocket.

“Then you knew we were going to talk to you? What gave it away?” she whispered, looping her fingers around the sensitive underside of his wrist.

Azriel’s eyes widened, glancing to her hand and back up to her face quickly. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

”You hardly need my permission, Nesta,” he responded.

She brought her other hand to cup his shoulder, leaning into him a little more. She could feel his entire body tense as if moving too quickly would provoke her to attack. He took an extra long pull from his beer.

“I disagree. Cassian and I both insisted that we talk to you together.”

It was at that moment that her co-conspirator returned from his bathroom trip. She watched as he scanned the situation, noting her hands on Azriel’s arm and shoulder. He pulled his lips into a curious smile.

“The two of you look cozy. I thought we were talking to him together, sweetheart,” he said, playing off of the comment he’d overheard.

He moved to the spot on the other side of Azriel, shooting her a questioning look when Azriel’s attention was turned away from him. Nesta’s face gave nothing away as she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at Cassian with affectionate exasperation.

“You took a little while, and I wasn’t sure when we would be able to get him alone again. I hadn’t said anything to him yet. Not without you.”

”Well, don’t let me stop you. By all means, love, carry on,” he said, using a flat palm gesture forward. He gave her a full smile in return, and she noted how much it softened his features. He truly was quite beautiful, in a rough, raw sort of way.

She peered up at Azriel, waiting until he looked down at her.

“You mentioned me and Cassian, but it’s not what you think. At least, not exactly.” He gave her a confused look. She decided to continue before she lost her nerve with this last-minute plan. She turned her gaze to Cassian for the briefest of seconds before looking back at Azriel.

“I don’t really know how to ask this properly, so I’m just going to go for it, I guess. I know you think we’re sleeping together and it’s some kind of secret. But honestly, we wouldn’t care to be secretive about just us. We’re adults. But, we wanted to be respectful of you in the event you were okay with this.”

She could see Cassian hanging on her every word beside Azriel, just as naive to what she was going to suggest. She took a breath before finishing in a low rasp, sounding way more confident than she felt. It was all for the mission, she told herself.

“We wanted to know if you’d join us, Az.” She watched as his eyes nearly popped out of his head, hurrying to finish. “I know, I know. Probably out of nowhere, but we agreed we would give you some time to think. And it doesn’t have to be an ongoing thing if you want to try and see how it goes. No hard feelings either way, seriously.”

She moved her gaze to meet Cassian’s, whose hazel eyes were also threatening to launch from their sockets. He mastered himself quickly, his timing perfect, since Azriel was snapping his head toward him.

”What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is this?” He was looking back and forth between them, begging for an explanation or an escape route.

Nesta feared that maybe she had made an executive call that Cassian wasn’t good with carrying through. To her surprise, he lifted one of his large hands to cup Azriel’s cheek, keeping his face turned toward him.

”Az, it’s okay.” He subtly rubbed his thumb over Azriel’s cheek, and Nesta had to bite her cheek to keep from giggling. “You don’t have to say anything now. It’s just... I trust you. And if I’m going to do this, it makes the most sense for it to be with someone who knows me like you do. Plus, you were first on Nesta’s list.”

She shot him a heated glare, knowing he was throwing her under the bus as revenge for keeping him out of the loop. She supposed she had earned that.

Azriel shot from his position, walking to the other side of the kitchen. He set his beer down and braced both of his large hands on the countertop. His head was hanging forward as he took deep breaths, and they heard him mutter a low, “What the fuck?”

Nesta and Cassian had both oriented toward him, their backs now toward the counter. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, Cassian with his hands in his pockets and Nesta with her arms crossed. She grabbed her drink she’d refilled earlier to take a sip before offering some to Cassian.

Ariel’s head lifted slightly as he fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him.

“Why do people always ask me to be part of their threesomes?” he whispered to no one in particular. Nesta and Cassian turned their heads toward each other, both of their brows raised in question. How often was this happening to Azriel?

He turned around to face them again, his brown furrowed in concentration.

“Az, don’t overextend yourself for our benefit,” Cassian joked. “I didn’t realize we were two of many.”

”Fuck off, Cass.” He rubbed his temples in impatience. “Can I ask, why me?”

Nesta didn’t miss a beat. They’d tortured him enough, and she was ready to reveal the truth.

“Well, seeing as you and Rhysand feel so comfortable as to insert yourselves into other’s affairs, we figured you may appreciate a front-row seat,” she replied dryly.

Cassian snorted a laugh and looked down at her with something like admiration. He bumped her shoulder with his for good measure.

“You’re messing with me?” Azriel demanded incredulously. Cassian broke out into a full laugh at that.

“Indeed. Nothing gets by you, Az,” he responded.

”We have been all day,” Nesta interjected. “You two were quick to lean in to your theory.” She couldn’t hide her laugh this time.

Azriel stood there, dumbfounded and speechless. His eyes scanned both of their faces and darkened as he noted their amusement.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just go around asking people to join you in threesomes!”

”Don’t be upset, man. You’ll always be my first choice,” Cassian teased.

Azriel’s eyes locked onto his, showing a strong promise of violence if this conversation didn’t change direction.

“Oh, stop it. Both of you. Cassian, stop antagonizing Azriel. And you.” She pointed her finger to where Azriel stood. “You think I didn’t know about you and Rhysand’s little theories about me and Cassian? All because we dared be nice to each other?”

She gave him a chance to respond. He didn’t.

“I’ve seen every single smirk you two have exchanged anytime we were within 10 feet of each other, so sure that you were right about us. We fed every bit of it to you on a platter, and you were too quick to believe what you wanted. Well, let this,” she gestured with her finger in a circle, “be a reminder that things aren’t always as they seem. And stop theorizing on your friend’s sex life. You know better than anyone that his arrogance would have him giving you the details for less than this.”

“Hey!” Cassian complained. “I’m on your side.”

Azriel lifted both of his hands in surrender, breathing a low chuckle before he spoke.

“I don’t know whether I’m more relieved by the truth or pissed off that you two did this to us all damn day. But either way, you’re right, Nesta. It’s really not our business, and we’ve been know-it-all little pricks all day long. I’m sorry. Truly.” He moved forward, holding out his arms in offer of a group hug. They accepted, Nesta gripping each of them around the waist and Cassian wrapping around both of their shoulders.

Just before they let go, Cassian nuzzled his face into Azriel’s neck, earning a curse from Azriel as he playfully pushed him away. Nesta threw her head back in a laugh, relieved, yet disappointed, that their game had come to an end.

——————————————————————————

Later that evening, what remained of their little gathering had moved inside to continue the festivities. Someone had suggested Twister, and Cassian had offered to referee and work the spinner. He was way too fucking big for this game.

“Right hand, blue!” he called.

He watched as his friends scrambled to find the closest blue space, bickering as if it were life or death. He laughed as he watched Rhysand and Nesta battle over the same blue space. The latter ended up sprawled on her ass by the time the turn was over. She huffed her frustration and landed a firm poke to Rhysand’s ribs before stalking over to the couch by Cassian.

“Cheap shot, demon witch,” Rhysand called after her. The masked affection in his tone was obvious, but she shot him a vulgar gesture all the same.

“Don’t be a sore loser, sweetheart,” he teased, as she plopped down on the couch next to him. “You got yours earlier tonight when Azriel filled him in on our ruse.��

“That’s totally different,” she insisted.

He called out the next position, watching intently for any foul play. He heard her quiet voice from next to him and had to fight the urge to turn to her.

“You know, I had a lot of fun with you today,” she said.

“I did, too. We made a good team,” he replied.

He rested a hand above her knee absent-mindedly, pulling it away just as quickly to flick the spinner for the next turn. Apparently, their day of shenanigans had lowered any reservations he had about making physical contact with her. His palm seemed to burn slightly where he’d touched her.

“Right foot, green!” he called.

She dropped her voice just a bit lower so that only he could hear over the mixed sounds in the room.

“Did it make you even a little curious? I guess all that pretending had me thinking of what it would be like if we...” she trailed off.

He couldn’t fight his glance at her this time. He took note of her bottom lip between her teeth and the slight blush across her cheeks. That was the second time tonight that he had been struck dumb by how beautiful she was.

He fought to turn his face away from hers to initiate the next turn. He called out the next position before answering her as nonchalantly as possible.

“Curiosity hit me well before tonight, sweetheart.” His heart thundered slightly at the admission.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she reached for his phone on the cushion between them. She handed it to him when she was prompted with the lock screen, and he mindlessly typed in his code. She worked for a second, locked his phone, and placed it back into its original position before reaching for her own.

He had to settle a disagreement between Mor and Feyre about hand placement before he was able to turn his attention back to Nesta. Why the fuck had he ever volunteered for this?

He unlocked his phone to see that his messaging app was open. There was an outgoing message to a number he didn’t recognize. Upon opening it, all the message said was, “Cassian.”

He glanced over at Nesta, watching as she stopped typing and locked her own phone. Within seconds, his phone vibrated with an incoming message from that unknown number. Nesta’s number.

He scanned the message, realization dawning on him within seconds. She’d sent him her home address followed by four simple words. “No pressure. No expectations.”

Before he could say anything at all, Nesta stood from the couch, reaching her arms over her head in a long stretch. His mouth went dry looking at the lines her body made as she did so.

“Alright, guys. It’s past my bedtime. I’m out,” she called as she blew kisses to her sisters.

She grabbed her things, slid her feet into her shoes, and made her way toward the door. She lingered for half a second to give Cassian a small smile. Just like that, she was gone, leaving Cassian to finish what seemed like it could be the longest Twister game in all of eternity.

——————————————————————————

Kind of already have a part 2 swimming around in my head for this one, so that may be a thing soon!

Feel free to keep the prompts coming, and let me know if you have a particular pairing or mood in mind ☺️

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, you can comment, shoot me an ask, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

Tags (Masterlist):

@polireader // @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash // @gisellefigue08 // @maastrash // @superspiritfestival // @girl-who-reads-the-books

#nessian #nessian au #nessian fanfic #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Note

heyo shrimpy!! sorry for the late response,, i got busy with exams lolol first, how are you today? :D Is anything good happening to you? enjoy your vacation btw, i hope you have a lot of fun! ^^ second, hmm finding your artstyle? that sounds even more challenging than improving for me, ngl hh- I don't know why but reading your answer made me think of a chibi dazai eating a nice burger... sounds cute,, I'm sure your drawing turned out amazing :D it's always a bliss noticing your art getting better, makes me want to draw more ^^ somehow, you drawing in a cuter art style makes you more adorable,, lovely doodles filling the empty pages,,,,

imagine dazai catching you doodling him with cute little hearts around the page,, and as his lips curved upwards a mild shade of pink dusts his cheeks, admiring you a little bit more before walking towards you quietly, wrapping his arms around your neck from behind. your frame stilled against his loving embrace, the pencil in your hand dropping on the concrete desk, your lover's lips close to your ears... his warm breath hit the back of your ear, kissing it in the process.

"I didn't know you drew me so much, gioia mia~¹" his sweet, teasing voice gently made its way into your eardrum, with you shivering afterward. his soft, umber locks brushed against your tender skin, the warm temperature his body radiated comforting you. your cheeks were probably red by now, and you were certain he already noticed. after all, when does he not?

clearing your throat, you comfortably positioned yourself, closing your eyelids slowly before speaking.

"u-uh, yeah. I, uhm-"

"and they're so well done, my darling! I assumed you were an artist since you always brought a notebook and pencil with you, even in our workplace, but I didn't expect you to draw me... I am flattered, my belladonna~ your artstyle mirrors the way you are... cute!~" your brain couldn't take in his words, and yours were stuck in your throat. all that was left was a stuttering mess whilst you shakingly turned around, with your lover chuckling at your adorable reaction.

dazai could now definitely see how your cheeks gained color, the redness painting them well. noticing your alerted gaze and trembling, he raised his hand to hold your warm cheek, caressing it with his thumb. although your quivering didn't cease, he took a note of how your eyes widened for a second before calming again. his smile broadened as you leaned into his touch, your timid orbs avoiding his loving ones. unfortunately for you, he had other ideas in mind.

and so, he leaned closer.

your eyes snapped back at him, his nose almost touching yours. a small gasp escaped you as you attempted to form a sentence, but failed to do so. the man in front of you only beamed at your reaction, his heart melting at how adorable and lovely you were. he was truly fortunate to have a loving, caring, understanding partner such as you.

he really loved you and cherished you with all of his soul.

"osamu! y-you're-" and before you could say anything else, the brunette gave you one last loving look before closing his eyes...

and placed his lips against yours.

your eyes bulged out from your sockets as a small shriek left your throat, but was immediately muted by your beloved's kiss. your flustered state couldn't comprehend what was happening, but the warmth of your chest was so overwhelming, you couldn't help but hastily press your lips back against his, tightly closing your eyelids to enjoy the moment more...

smirking, dazai stopped for a brief moment while you whined in protest, but he quickly soothed you while shifting his hands to grip your chair, gently twisting it around. you opened your eyes again to understand what he was doing... and regretted it as soon as you saw his smug look, while he caged you between him and your chair. you glanced around stunned, the dulcet shade of rosé overlapping your already flustered profile. shakingly, you looked up and met his calmer and haughty orbs again, making you gulp as your heart rammed in your chest.

his smooth, defined face was all you could see, and if it wasn't for your panicking mind, you were sure you could observe him for hours. you felt so open under his narrow, shadowy, russet orbs as if you were an interesting book he was very invested in. that fierce, intense way he observed you with, only made you shyer, and you shrank on your chair... which wasn't the best move, you thought, since he cornered you more than before, and all you could do was watch him from below, too red to do or say anything.

his low chuckle reverberated through the room, and a small drop of sweat rushed down your embarrassed face as he towered over you, devouring all of your sweet, lovable expressions. his smirk widened as your pupils shrank, bending down to your level once more. he tremendously wanted to pick you up and place you on the king-sized bed, while you desperately clung onto him and whispered his name, trying to evade his all-seeing gaze... but held himself back to tease you more.

after all, you looked so delicious right now...

"o-osamu..." your needy, wobbly voice brought him back from his little daydream, shaking off any other thoughts he had in mind... all that mattered now was you. humming, he got closer to you, both of your faces millimeters away. if he was trying to kill you, he was doing a great job at it. the smile never left his mouth, and you could feel the confidence seeping through him... his breath hit your lips as he exhaled making you freeze on the spot.

"hmmm? what is it, my dear? do you perhaps need something?" he asked, already knowing what you wanted and needed. but hearing you spell it out for him... it was a bliss.

you nervously exhaled, feeling the warmth in your cheeks rise as if you weren't blushing enough. not brave at all to face him head-on, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, looking down as you did so. dazai screamed internally at the cuteness with all the courage you had, you shyly told him...

"p-please osamu, i-i need you..." and that was all he needed. chuckling, he stared at you with a wolfish grin, pleased to hear those words coming out of your lips.

"then... let me take care of you, amore mio~²"

your sketchbook was long forgotten that night, but dazai did make you "sing" some sweet songs for him...

¹ = means my joy in Italian, the ask from Sofi sparked something within me 😶 dazai giving you Italian pet names sounds perfect-

² = my love, once again, in Italian- hh

okay i got too carried away 💀 ANYWAY THANKS FOR NOT READING THE ONE I SENT BEFORE HH SORRY AGAIN, PLEASE ENJOY YOUR DAY AND KEEP ON DRAWING UR ART CUTE AF

first of all, my vacation is going well! i enjoyed going out and riding some rides, plus took a nice shower and now i am relaxing in my bed, hehe.

second, it's truly a bliss to see my own artwork improve over time! it makes me extremely happy. also, i love the idea of dazai eating a burger, that's adorable. i have been wanting to doodle dazai a lot lately; probably cause he's just so adorable to me and he's absolutely breathtaking, hehe. it's nice to fill up the empty pages and just letting your mind flow as you draw.

third... OH MY GOD. READING ALL THAT WHEN I WAS IN LINE FOR MY RIDE MADE ME SO FLUSTERED UNDERNEATH MY MASK. AND REREADING IT ALL OVER AGAIN MAKES ME SO ASFJFSOXMSK 😳🥺💘 it was so, so sweet of you to write all that! please, dazai speaking pet names in another language truly sounds like him. not to mention, the fact that he was so flirty and he's such a tease from how you portrayed him, my heart is fluttering. and the very end though. oh my. 🥰🙈 goodness that really made me so blushy, hahaha.

thank you for taking your time to write that. it always warms my heart to read these and wow, omg, you just really wanted to fluster me today, did you? ASHFIAOZNA thank you so much for this. my heart... i have no words. it just made my day so much better too, haha. bless your kind soul, i loved reading it all 😭🤍

#my heart is melting #omg #i can't rn #asks: sweetlebub #dazai fics: sweetlebub

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suituuup · 4 years

Text

clouds

Prompt: After finding out she has Stage II breast cancer, Beca gets started with chemo. She never expected she’d make a friend there, much less a kid.

rating: M

word count: 5,4k

ao3 link

“All done,” the nurse chirps as she takes out the needle and presses a wad of cotton to the small puncture spot. “You’ll have to wait an hour or so for the lab results to come back before they set you up for chemo.”

“Okay,” Beca mumbles, lowering her sweater sleeve and standing from the cot. She thanks the nurse and shuffles out of the room and towards the elevator that will take her up to the right floor.

A month ago, Beca found out she had breast cancer. She had just got back from tour and was on her annual gynecology check-up where the doctor felt a lump in her left breast. She referred Beca to a specialist and, following a mammogram and a biopsy, Beca was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer.

Her whole universe as she knew it shifted on its axis. While her chances of survival were pretty high at that stage, she knew treatment would momentarily change her daily life, and that the few months ahead would be an emotional whirlwind.

Beca got set up just over an hour later on a reclining chair on the infusion floor. She had packed a bag with everything she would need: snacks, a blanket, water, and her computer and headphones so she could get some work done.

The nurse soon came over to start an IV, Beca wincing as the needle pierced her skin. “Alright, you’re all set. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

She closes her eyes and puffs out a long breath, willing herself to relax.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?”

Beca opens her eyes to find a little girl, no older than ten or eleven, climbing in the chair next to hers. Her mom, Beca supposes from the matching hair color, crouches in front of her.

“Yes, mom. I already told you I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be back in half an hour.” The woman kisses the girl’s forehead, shrugging off the Wonder Woman backpack and setting it on her daughter’s lap. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” As soon as her mother turns away to leave the room, her curious blue eyes find Beca. “You’re new.”

Beca puffs out a surprised chuckle. “I am, yeah.”

A small hand is thrust towards her. “I’m Maddie.”

Beca shakes her hand lightly. “Hi Maddie, my name’s Beca.”

“Nice meeting you.” She opens her backpack just as the nurse heads towards her. “Hi Jenny.”

“Hello Maddie. How are we doing today?”

“I’m okay, thanks. Mommy and I are going to eat ice cream afterwards.” She rolls up her sleeve and extends her arm, barely flinching as the nurse pushes the needle in.

Beca realizes with a painful pang in her chest that it’s definitely not her first time getting chemo.

“Lucky you,” the nurse gushes, taping the IV tube to her arm. “All done, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Jenny.”

Beca glances away, her eyes drifting to her own IV bag. It’s strange to think about how what’s supposed to kill the cancer is also killing every good cell in her body. Soon she’ll be losing her hair and—

“Who’s your favorite singer?”

Beca is pulled out of her thoughts by that same girl — Maddie. An amused smile curves her lips. “Um, I like a lot of singers, but I guess my top 3 is Fleetwood Mac, Harry Styles and Beyoncé.”

“My mom loves Fleetwood Mac,” she says. “Mine’s Shawn Mendes.”

Beca nods. “He’s a cool guy.”

Those striking blue eyes widen. “You’ve met him??”

Beca has worked with him on his last album and he’s become a good friend, but she wants to keep a low profile, so she shakes her head. “No, I mean— he seems like a cool guy.”

“Oh. Yeah. I was supposed to go see him live last year but I wasn’t healthy enough.”

Beca’s heart cracks a little bit at that. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

Maddie shrugs. “It’s okay. Do you know how to play Backgammon?”

Beca lets out another chuckle. She hadn’t expected to meet anyone here, much less a kid (she’s not a kid person), but she has to admit it’s a nice distraction from her spiraling thoughts. “No, but maybe you could teach me?”

The next two hours go much faster than Beca initially expected, thanks to Maddie’s company. Her mom —Chloe, as she introduces herself— comes back half an hour in, but she seems content reading her book while Beca and Maddie play.

“Yes!” Maddie exclaims when she —once again— wins that round.

“Well done, dude. I’ll do better next time.”

“You wanna come eat an ice cream with us?” She asks as the nurse takes Beca’s IV out.

Beca already feels tired and nauseous, so she declines, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’m gonna head home. It was cool hanging out with you, though.”

“You, too. See you next time!”

Beca nods, casting her mother a polite smile as she gathers her stuff and stands up. “Bye.”

The first effects of chemo hit her for real a couple hours afterwards. Exhaustion like she’s never experienced creeps on her right before dinner (she’s not really hungry anyway), and she crashes for thirteen hours, waking up with the urge to throw up. Her day is spent wallowing on her couch when she’s not bent over the toilet, weaving in and out of sleep while the sitcom channel fills the silence of her empty apartment.

It lasts two days, and Beca starts feeling better on the third, which happens to be her second chemo session. Maddie and her mom are already there when she gets to the room, and she casts them both a wave and a tired smile before sitting down in the same seat as last time.

“Hi Beca!” Maddie exclaims, grinning brightly.

“Hey dude. Ready to kick my butt at Backgammon again?”

“Yep!” She turns to her mom a second later. “Mommy I have to pee.”

“Oh go quick then, before the nurse starts you on your IV.” Maddie scampers off towards the bathroom, and Chloe’s eyes flicker to Beca, a sympathetic smile spreading on her features. “How are you holding up?”

Beca grimaces. “The last two days have been pretty awful, I’m hoping it won’t get as bad after each session.”

“Yeah… it’s rough.”

“How long-- um, has she been in chemo long?” She asks hesitantly.

“It’s our second round this time around,” Chloe says softly, the pain evident in her eyes. “She was diagnosed with leukemia three years ago, and it’s been an emotional roller coaster since then. Two remissions, yet here we are again.”

Beca’s eyes widen. “Wow... I’m so sorry.”

“She’s a fighter. Much braver than I could ever be. Always has a smile on her face.”

Maddie comes back before Beca can say anything else, hopping back on her chair. Beca manages to win two rounds out of ten this time, and she crashes in her bed as soon as she gets home.

The next few weeks are a blur, as Beca doesn’t do much except going to the hospital three times a week for chemo and sleeping it off. She misses work, and going out with her friends, but she doesn’t have the energy to leave the house. She’s thankful for Stacie and Emily, who regularly come to check on her and even go grocery shopping for her.

Four weeks after beginning her treatment, Beca’s hair starts to fall off. She knew it would happen, but she didn’t think it would hit her so hard emotionally. She loses weight, too, and her complexion is much paler.

Maddie’s high spirits are a nice distraction every time she’s at the hospital. They play games, listen to music, and even grab ice cream once or twice with her mom when Beca feels okay enough not to head straight home.

On her last day of chemo, Beca is surprised to see Maddie isn’t there. “Is her treatment over?” She asks Jenny as the nurse sets her up for her infusion.

Jenny shakes her head. “She was admitted last night.”

Beca’s heart squeezes in her chest, and she swallows down the rising lump in her throat. “Do you know if she’s allowed visitors?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll check for you.”

After her session, Beca heads to the oncology floor and asks for Maddie’s room at the reception. She heads down the hall, turning the corner and lingering in the doorway.

Maddie looks so small in her hospital bed, her complexion as pale as the white walls. An oxygen mask covers her mouth and nose, a wheezing sound filling the room every time she breathes. Chloe’s the first to notice Beca as she sits by her daughter’s side, stroking her hair.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure-- I can go,” Beca murmurs, feeling suddenly out of place.

“It’s okay,” Chloe croaks out, waving her in. Her eyes are bloodshot and her features scream exhaustion and despair, and Beca’s heart clenches yet again.

Maddie finally notices her, a tired smile spreading across her lips. “Hi.”

“Hey dude,” Beca greets with a soft smile, lowering herself on the opposite chair because her legs feel weakened by the chemo. “Missed you today.”

“Did you ring the bell?”

Beca nods. “I did.”

“Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay, Maddie. I’m sorry you’re not feeling good. I was thinking-- would you like to listen to some cool music? I used to mix songs together when I was in college and nobody really ever listened to them, so you’re privileged.”

Maddie grins and nods, taking the earbud Beca offers her.

She sticks around for half-an-hour, giving Chloe time to use the restroom and grab a coffee while she keeps Maddie company. As she walks out of the hospital, Beca pulls out her phone and brings it to her ear after selecting the right contact.

“Hey. I need a favor.”

Two days later, Beca finds herself heading back to the oncology floor. She knocks on Maddie’s open door, relieved to see her sitting up and looking overall better than she did on Beca’s last visit.

“Beca!” She exclaims, grinning widely.

“Hey you.” Her gaze flickers to Chloe, who too looks better. “Hey Chloe.”

“Hi Beca. Thanks for stopping by,” Chloe says with a soft smile.

“I’m not alone, actually,” she lets them know, craning her neck towards the door to signal for her guest to come in.

Maddie gasps loudly, her eyes widening to the side of saucers. “Oh my god!”

“Hey Maddie,” Shawn greets, grinning as he steps further inside. He’s got his guitar slung across his back. “How are you doing?”

Maddie stutters, pulling a chuckle out of the three adults in the room. “Hi,” she eventually croaks out. “You’re Shawn Mendes. And you’re here. In my room.”

Shawn lets out a soft laugh. “Beca told me you were meant to come see one of my shows last year but couldn’t make it because of your health, so here I am.”

Maddie gapes, her gaze flicking back and forth between Shawn and Beca. “Mom, I think I need to be pinched.”

“It’s all real, baby,” Chloe confirma, brushing a kiss to Maddie’s forehead. As Shawn gets settled in the chair by Maddie’s bed and fiddles with his guitar, she meets Beca’s eyes and mouths a thank you.

Maddie has the biggest smile on her face for the following hour. Shawn plays her favorite songs, signs an autograph and they snap a ton of pictures together. Beca goes home with the biggest smile on her face as well, thrilled to have been able to make Maddie forget about her disease even for a short while.

Beca goes back to work the following Monday as the chemo after effects have considerably lessened over the weekend. She’s still more tired than usual, but she feels like she can get some work done. On her way back home, she swings by the hospital to visit Maddie.

She hangs out with her every evening after work for an hour, right before Maddie’s dinner is served. They talk about music and Beca brings her guitar because Maddie says she’s been wanting to learn.

“Good job,” Beca says as Maddie successfully strums through her first song. “You’re really talented.”

Maddie grins. “Thanks for the class.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave the guitar here if you wanna practice some more during the day, okay?”

Maddie nods. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

She’s reached the elevators when she hears her name being called, and spins around on her heels to find Chloe heading towards her.

“I just wanted to thank you, for everything. Bringing Shawn Mendes here, giving her guitar lessons... “ Chloe sighs. “She doesn’t have many friends because she hasn’t been to school much and it’s nice for her to see other people than her lame mom all the time.”

Beca smiles, shaking her head. “You don’t have to thank me. She’s a great kid, and I genuinely enjoy spending time with her. She made chemo a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad,” Chloe murmurs. “Do you… wanna grab coffee, maybe? Maddie kicked me out, telling me I should take a hospital break.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, great. I’ll go grab my coat.”

They head to the Starbucks around the block as the coffee from the cafeteria sucks, settling at a small table in the corner. Beca orders a decaf and Chloe a hot chocolate.

“How are you now that you’re done with chemo?” Chloe asks before blowing on her drink and taking a sip.

“I’m okay. No more side effects except tiredness, but I’m glad to finally be able to work.”

“That’s good.”

“Maddie seems to be doing better?”

Chloe nods as she cradles her mug. “Her test results have improved. I’m hoping she can be home for Christmas. She’s spent the holidays at the hospital last year and as much as the nurses and doctors do their best to make it merry, it’s just not the same.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Beca hesitates for a beat. “Is it… just the two of you?”

“Yeah. Her dad never wanted to be in the picture.”

Beca’s eyes soften. “That must be tough, doing everything on your own.”

“Some days are hard. I’m just-- so fucking tired,” her voice cracks and tears rapidly fill her eyes. She ducks her head. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Beca rushes out, covering Chloe’s hand across the table before she can think twice about it. “It’s okay to cry. You’re stronger than you think, and you’re an incredible mom, Chloe.”

“I’m terrified of losing her,” she whispers, those tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s my whole life, and she doesn’t deserve any of this.”

Beca doesn’t know what to say; no words seem powerful enough to alleviate Chloe’s pain. She squeezes Chloe’s hand, brushing her thumb over her knuckles back and forth. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Gosh, I’m really sorry,” Chloe sniffles after a moment, puffing out a breath. “I guess I needed a good cry and you’re my victim.”

“It really is okay, Chloe. Anytime you need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

Chloe flips her hand up, wrapping her fingers around Beca’s. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

As the next few weeks go by, Beca’s hair starts to grow back (she still wears a headscarf, and will do so until it thickens out), and her energy levels rise back to normal. Work gets busier but she tries to visit Maddie three times a week, usually going out for coffee with Chloe once out of those three times. They text a lot too throughout the week, sending each other memes or cute animal videos.

Beca finds herself quickly developing a crush on Chloe over their sometimes hour-long conversations about their respective lives, charmed by her sunny personality, goofy sense of humor and both interior and exterior beauty. But she knows better than to do anything about her attraction, as Chloe is most likely not in any place to date right now, if she’s even into women at all.

Maddie is allowed to spend Christmas at home, and Chloe asks Beca if she wants to spend it with them as she knows Beca doesn’t have anything specific planned. They spend the afternoon leading up to Christmas Eve building gingerbread houses and baking cookies while belting out Christmas tunes.

(as if Beca needed anything else to fuel that crush of hers, it turns out Chloe sings beautifully.)

They eat a meal of Maddie’s choice --homemade burgers and fries-- and watch The Beauty and the Beast.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chloe tells her as she makes it back down after tucking Maddie in for the night. Beca started cleaning up in the meantime, having just finished up.

“I know. It’s no big deal.”

“Want another glass of wine?” Chloe asks, lifting the open bottle off the kitchen island.

Beca should head home, but Chloe’s place is much warmer and cozier than her own and she loves hanging out there. She also can’t resist the opportunity of spending more quality time with Chloe. “Sure, why not.”

“Tonight was really fun,” Chloe muses aloud as they settle back down on the couch, facing one another. “I’m so happy Maddie got to have a real Christmas this year.”

“Me, too,” Beca murmurs. “It was really nice. And that’s coming from someone who’s not that into the holidays, so kudos to you.”

Chloe throws her arms up in the air. “Yay! I did it!”

“You’re a dork,” Beca says, a smirk curving her lips as she shakes her head. “Ugh, I’ve got All I Want For Christmas Is You stuck in my head, thanks to somebody.”

“It’s a good song!”

Beca rolls her eyes. “It’s cheesy as fuck, dude.”

Chloe’s giggle makes her heart swell. “Okay, it’s a little bit cheesy. So is the movie.”

“Never seen it.”

A judgemental gasp fills the space between them before Chloe backs away. “You’ve never seen Love Actually?”

Beca purses her lips. “Are you gonna kick me out if I say yes?”

Chloe’s up from the couch before she can blink. “We’re watching it now.”

Beca’s about to protest, but she realizes it’s only 9:30pm and she doesn’t have to go to work tomorrow. “Fine.”

Chloe sets it up on Netflix and grabs a blanket, throwing it over her laps as she settles back down. Beca nearly forgets how to breathe when Chloe curls up against her, draping an arm over her waist. She frees her arm from in between their bodies and wraps it around Chloe’s frame, pulling her closer as the opening credits roll.

“Keira Knightley was my first girl crush,” Chloe states moments later as the actress makes her first appearance on the screen. “Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Haven’t seen it either.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe laughs, lifting her head from Beca’s shoulder to look at her. “You’re missing out.”

“Mmm,” Beca hums, her eyes momentarily dropping to Chloe’s lips before she can really help herself. She forces them back up to find Chloe’s own gaze on her mouth and, following a beat of hesitation, reaches up to cup her cheek tenderly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

Chloe melts into it, her own hand coming up to rest on the side of Beca’s neck as she kisses back in kind. Time seems to suspend as they explore in soft brushes and nips, their bubble bursting when Chloe abruptly pulls away.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” she whispers, covering her mouth with her hand. “You don’t want that.”

Beca blinks, furrowing her brow. “What?”

“You deserve someone that can be all in, not…” she waves a hand towards herself. “Not this mess. My life is so complicated right now.”

“I know,” Beca says softly, covering Chloe’s hand with her own. “I know your sole focus is Madison, and I’d never hold your lack of time for me against you. I honestly— didn’t even think you’d feel the same way.”

Chloe’s eyes flutter shut for a few beats. “I like you a lot, Beca. I just… can’t promise you more than day to day right now.”

“We can do day to day,” Beca murmurs reassuringly. “There’s no pressure on my end, alright?”

Chloe contemplates it for a moment. “Okay.” She leans in to kiss Beca gently, resting her forehead against hers. “Okay.”

They fall asleep in front of the movie, eventually shuffling up to Chloe’s bedroom around midnight as Chloe states it’s too late for Beca to head home.

Come morning, Beca takes care of breakfast while a nurse stops by to take Maddie’s vitals and do some injections. They open presents next as Maddie is too excited to wait until after breakfast. Beca got her a few books and a VIP ticket to Ariana Grande’s next show in a couple weeks. She got Chloe a full day spa package for whenever she’d like, insisting she could spend the day with Maddie.

“For you,” Maddie says, extending a small package towards Beca.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, dude.” She takes the gift nonetheless, opening it to find a rainbow themed friendship bracelet. Beca grins, taking it out. “I love it. Never taking it off.”

The New Year brings good news: Maddie’s health improves enough that she’s discharged from the hospital, and Beca is clear from any cancer, the chemotherapy having worked tremendously. They celebrate Maddie coming home and Beca being cancer free around a homemade dinner at Chloe’s house.

“Are you guys together?” Maddie blurts out halfway through dinner, causing Beca to nearly choke on her piece of bread.

She and Chloe haven’t engaged in any sort of PDA around Maddie as Chloe wants to take it slow, but something must have given them away.

Maybe the heart eyes Beca gives Chloe on a daily basis.

She briefly meets Chloe’s gaze before Chloe focuses on her daughter, a soft, albeit slight nervous smile curving her lips. “We are, yeah. Is that okay?”

Maddie nods. “You look happy, Mommy.”

Beca feels her heart swell, and as Maddie goes back to her food, she leans across the distance between herself and Chloe to kiss her cheek.

Something tells her this is going to be a great year.

Over the following months, she, Chloe and Maddie do plenty of activities together now that Maddie is healthy enough. They go ice skating, attend concerts, bake, have movie marathons. Beca falls so quickly in love with Chloe, it’s kind of scary.

They’re even talking about moving in together when Maddie relapses.

She’s admitted into the ICU after contracting pneumonia, and the tests show that her number of white blood cells is higher than it’s ever been.

“Where’s Mommy?” Maddie asks tiredly, twisting her head to look at Beca.

It’s been a week, and the light has already left Maddie’s eyes.

Chloe hasn’t gotten much sleep over the last few days, afraid that Maddie might pass during the night, on her own.

“She went to the bathroom, sweetie. Want me to go get her?”

When Maddie nods, Beca shakily rises to her feet and swallows down the lump in her throat as she leans over to press a kiss to Maddie’s forehead.

Beca doesn’t step back inside Maddie’s room once Chloe is in there, preferring to give them privacy. She calls for a nurse, then sits down on a chair in the hallway, tears silently sliding down her cheeks when Chloe starts to sing.

Her heart crumbles when the song doesn’t make it to the end, sobs filling Maddie’s hospital room instead. She hears the doctor pronounce the time of death, and the machines stop.

Night has fallen over the city by the time Beca finds the courage to step inside. Chloe is curled up on the bed next to Maddie’s lifeless body, and Beca freezes in the doorway, feeling absolutely powerless against Chloe’s immense grief.

“Her skin is still warm,” Chloe croaks out after a minute, her gaze blank as she strokes Maddie’s short hair back and forth.

Beca pads forward slowly, tears burning her eyes as she lowers herself on the chair Chloe previously occupied and covers her free hand with her own.

“I can’t let them take her away. It’s too soon, I-I can’t.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Beca whispers, her voice nowhere within reach. “Take all the time you need, they won’t take her away until you’re ready.”

Chloe’s parents, whom Beca has met a couple times over the previous week arrive only a few minutes later, and Beca suddenly feels out of place.

She quietly slips out of the room to let them say goodbye to Maddie in peace.

Madison’s funeral takes place five days later. It’s a beautiful day, graced with unexpected warmth for the season. Beca stands a couple rows behind Chloe’s family. She helps Chloe’s parents out during the wake following the ceremony, setting out the food and washing the dishes.

As people shuffle out at the end of the afternoon, Beca is unsure what to do. She’s wiping the last of the dishes when Aubrey, Chloe’s best friend, rounds the corner to the kitchen.

“Thank you for your help today,” she says with a nod. “I’ll finish up here.”

Beca gets the message that she’s not needed anymore and nods, setting the dish towel down. “Oh. Right, okay.”

She gathers her coat and purse and sees that Chloe is speaking to her parents on her way out, and as she doesn’t want to intrude, steps out without a word.

“Beca.” She turns around halfway down the driveway to find Chloe closing the front door of her house behind her. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Well, um, you’re with your family and...” she falters, shrugging. “I just didn’t want to intrude.”

She hates how it sounds like she’s making this about herself when it’s the last thing she wants to do.

“Can you stay?” Chloe croaks out. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

“Of course,” she murmurs without an ounce of hesitation, taking a few steps forward and wrapping her arms around Chloe. Chloe melts into her body, releasing a shuddering breath. “I’ve got you, Chlo.”

The next days, weeks, months are extremely hard for Chloe, and Beca helps in whatever way she can. While she can’t make Chloe’s grief less intense, as much as she wants to, she can take care of things that will make her daily life easier, like taking care of the administrative paperwork following Maddie’s funeral, sending out thank-you notes, making dinner, cleaning and just being there for her.

She holds Chloe when she cries, even if it happens in the middle of the night, gives her space when she needs some, listens to her when she needs to talk about Maddie, even if it’s a story she’s already heard.

“Chlo?” Beca asks upon coming home one evening, about four months after Maddie’s death. She’s been staying at Chloe’s house ever since, and while they haven’t really talked about it, Beca wants it to become a permanent installment, and she’s got the inkling Chloe feels the same way.

“In the kitchen,” Chloe’s voice carries to the entryway and, after taking her shoes off and tucking them away, Beca heads over to the kitchen, slipping her arms around Chloe’s waist.

“Hello,” she whispers with a content sigh, brushing a kiss to Chloe’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too. How was your day?”

“Good.” She takes a step back and hops on the counter, watching Chloe cook for a moment. She hasn’t done that since before Maddie’s relapse and Beca takes it as one small step towards healing. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Chloe lowers the heat under her pot and steps in front of Beca. “What’s up?”

“A few months ago, I pitched the idea to Shawn about organizing a concert in memory of Maddie, where all proceeds would go to funding leukemia research.”

Chloe’s eyes get misty as she proceeds Beca’s words. “You did? What-what did he say?”

“He agreed. Now we need to work on finding a venue with a limited budget, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with the idea in the first place.”

Chloe slides her hand into Beca’s, squeezing it. “Of course I am. You’re amazing, you know that? I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am for you these past few months.”

Beca leans in to kiss her softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Chloe backs away a little. “I also need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can live here anymore. Everything I see reminds me of Maddie one way or another and it feels like I’m in a continuous loop of grief all day long. I wanna go back to work and— and find a new place to live, in a different neighborhood. With you, preferably.”

Beca smiles and nods, linking their fingers. “Okay, we can do that. Wanna start looking now?”

They find themselves a place in a quiet Brooklyn neighborhood and move in a month later. The concert for Maddie is sold out, and they raise close to $10,000 dollars for medical research. Almost a year after the funeral, Chloe asks Beca if she’d come with her to Oregon to spread Maddie’s ashes near her favorite beach.

They fly there the following weekend, and Chloe bids her daughter a final goodbye.

“Mommy loves you, baby girl,” she croaks as they watch the ashes being swept away by the wind towards the ocean.

Beca presses her lips to her hairline, holding her around the waist as tears burn behind her eyes.

She proposes to Chloe six months later, and they get married in Chloe’s parents’ backyard on a lovely fall day, in an intimate ceremony surrounded by their family and close friends. Two years into their marriage, Chloe brings up a topic Beca has been putting off for a little while.

That evening, Beca finds her wife on the couch with Maddie’s box opened in front of her. She’s flipping through Maddie’s baby book, a fond expression on her features.

“That was her first time tasting lemon,” she says when Beca lowers herself next to her, wrapping an arm around her frame as Chloe cuddles into her side.

“That’s adorable,” Beca comments with a soft smile, her eyes moving to the next picture as her fingers feather up and down Chloe’s upper arm.

Chloe’s been going down memory lane the past few days, opening up the box that contains all the things she wanted to keep: Maddie’s plush dinosaur, a few Mother’s Day gifts she’d made Chloe, her favorite children’s book and of course plenty of photo albums.

Her grief comes in waves. Beca knows the loss of her child is not something she’ll ever ‘move on’ from, or ‘get over’. The ache is still present, some days more suffocating than others, and Beca does her best to help her through those.

“Do you ever think about having kids?”

Chloe’s question makes Beca briefly pause in her motions. “I do, yeah. But it’s okay if that’s not something you’re ever ready for, I promise.”

“Up until a few months ago, I thought that having another one would come across as though I’m trying to replace Maddie and I felt guilty. But my therapist helped me through it and... I do want to have a baby with you someday.” Chloe glances up from the album, looking at Beca. “I think-- I think I might be ready, soon?”

“Okay.” Cupping Chloe’s cheek, Beca leans forward to brush a kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

Oliver Beale-Mitchell comes into the world a year and a half later, four days past his due date.

“Hello,” Chloe whispers as she walks back to Beca, carrying their swaddled newborn. She lowers herself on the side of the bed. “He’s so beautiful, Becs.”

A tired yet beaming smile spreads across Beca’s lips as she reaches out to run her thumb over his knuckles, leaning her head against Chloe’s shoulder. Her heart feels full. “Hi little man.” She glances up at Chloe. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe croaks out, seemingly unable to tear her gaze away from their bundle of joy. She bends down to brush a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome to the world, Olliebear.”

#bechloe fic #bechloe

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years

Text

Irreverent Pt. 32 - The Ball

Title: Irreverent Pt. 32 - The Ball Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: R Words: 3024

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Jack had had a sleepover the night prior and his friend had just left. The two boys barely slept all night and you and Hotch could both tell that Jack was exhausted. So, at the first sign of a yawn, you nudged him towards his room for a nap. You'd come over in the morning to help with breakfast because Aaron had been on his own the night before. You would've joined, but he'd insisted he could handle it and had pushed you to go hang out with Penelope and Emily instead. You hadn't told the team - even Emily - about the two of you yet. It had only been a couple of weeks since your first date and both of you wanted to keep this to yourselves for the time being.

You had, however, discussed telling Strauss. With the Ball nearly upon you, you figured you should tell her and make the relationship official sooner rather than alter to avoid having it seem as though you were hiding it. Aaron had agreed, though you could tell he didn't love having Strauss know his business. The two of them still had somewhat of an antagonistic relationship ever since she'd questioned his ability to lead the team soon after his divorce. When he'd told you about this, you'd been shocked. That would have been right around when you joined the team, and while yes he had been more subdued and quick to anger those first few months, you had hardly seen reason for Strauss to have questioned his leadership.

"Jack's asleep," you told him, when you found him in his room, finishing up folding the laundry. The yawn you'd been suppressing for a while finally came out.

He smiled at you as he folded the last shirt. "Sleepy?"

"Mm a little. Emily is seeing someone new and so of course Penelope pulled out her computer and now I know that he has a cousin in Utah that was arrested for a misdemeanor charge in 2006," you explained, as you helped him put the clothes away in his closet. You appreciated that Aaron was a very neat and orderly person. Everything had a spot and it was just how you would've done it yourself.

"Well," he said conspiratorially, as he came and hugged your from behind, "Jack is taking a nap. We could also take a nap."

He was holding you so close and he smelled just like his Irish Spring soap and musk and something sweet that was uniquely him. "I hope you actually mean a nap," you mumbled, as you felt his lips against your neck "because that sounds amazing."

He gave a low chuckle as he dragged you over to the bed so you both could lay down. You laid down right next to him, his arm under you as you slung an arm over his stomach and your leg over his. You were quiet for a few minutes, as he tried to let you actually sleep. His hands played gently with your hair and Aaron always ran so warm it was like sleeping with a personal heater. However, now that you were actually lying down, sleep was elusive. You tilted your head up to see him watching you with a slight smile on his face.

"That's not sleeping," he murmured, as he continued to gently massage your head. You'd always liked having someone play with your hair - it was so soothing.

"I'm not actually sleepy anymore," you admitted with a small pout.

"Hmm." His voice was still low and quiet, in the hope that you might be lulled into a nap anyways.

You reached up to his face, a single finger tracing the outline of his face, down his perfect nose, across his pink lips. You'd really allowed yourself to appreciate him lately and it continued to amaze you how breathtakingly beautiful he was. Part of you couldn't believe you hadn't noticed it before but the other part knew that you hadn't let yourself go there. He seemed to be enjoying your exploration as he closed his eyes and just let your fingers ghost over his features.

"Aaron?"

"Mmhm."

"Where do you want to be after the BAU?"

He opened his eyes to look at you, not expecting the question. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know…I guess with the Ball approaching and us talking about my career and future and all that…I guess I just kind of wondered. What's next for you?"

He let out a large breath as you sat up slightly on your elbows to look at him properly.

"I don't know. When I first started I wanted to do the whole move up thing, but the longer I'm here I don't know if I'm suited for that." He had a far away look on his face - like it was a thought from so long ago that it was entirely removed from the person he was now.

"Why not?" you asked, as you watched him carefully.

"It's a lot of paperwork and a lot of…difficult decisions. With the BAU it's more clear cut - we catch bad guys. Occasionally things are more complicated, but overall I feel like I do good in the world and I get to go home and not worry about the politics of moving up."

"Hmm," you said, coming back down to lay on his chest again.

"What is it?"

"I think Director Hotchner has a nice ring to it," you shared, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"Director?" You could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Yeah, you'd be a great Director for the Bureau." You really truly believed that. He was such a great leader who commanded respect - yours and everyone else's.

"Well I'm glad I have someone's vote," he laughed, trying to brush off what you'd said. That was an ambition for the old him - the one that had just had a kid and was married to Haley and had a whole life in front of him.

"You'll always have mine," you confided, as you hugged him closer, burrowing in more to his side. "McKinney should be scared."

He had a really soft, perfect, I-am-Aaron-Hotchner-and-I-make-women-swoon smile on his face as he looked at you. Aaron brought his arms around you at that, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sure he's shaking in his boots as we speak."

*------------*

The meeting with Strauss had gone as well as could be expected really. You and Hotch had asked to meet with her early in the day, before anyone else got there and when you'd explained that you needed to declare an official relationship, she hadn't seemed all that surprised. Which was surprising to you at the very least.

"Have you told your team yet," she'd asked, as both you and Hotch sat in her office and filled out the required paperwork.

"No, not yet." Aaron had responded quickly, not looking up as he said it, concentrating on filling out all the details.

You smiled and looked at her, knowing you had to compensate for his utter dislike of this whole situation. "We just want to keep it to ourselves for now," you'd explained. "It's hard enough working with profilers without everyone knowing everything."

She'd nodded understandingly, but added, "Well, I doubt anyone would be too surprised. I wouldn't wait too long if I were you."

Aaron had simply smiled and stood up, but Strauss asked you to stay behind for a moment.

You looked at her in question as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

"You should know that this could impact the tapping process. I will do my best to ensure that it doesn't, however situations such as this can raise some eyebrows. Are you sure about this?"

You thought about what she was implying, turning to look at the seat Aaron had vacated just a moment ago, before looking back at her. "He's worth it." The answer came easily. It was just that simple.

*------------*

The night of the FBI Director's Ball came sooner than expected. You'd chosen to get ready beforehand with the girls, and the four of you had made a day of it. Aaron saw you when you entered the venue, having arrived only minutes earlier himself. You walked in with Emily and you were wearing a dark green gown which complimented you perfectly.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Aaron startled, only to see Dave standing next to him in a matching tux, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Sometimes he forgot that Dave knew, since the rest of the team still didn't. He grabbed the drink proffered by Dave and rolled his eyes good naturedly. No use denying he'd been staring. "How're you liking her odds tonight?" he chose to ask instead, changing the subject.

It was common knowledge that the annual Director's Ball was where up and coming talent was recognized. Aaron himself hadn't gone through the tapping process, but had heard of Bureau stars who were tapped at the Ball, go on to lead new taskforces, teams, and missions - have great careers within the Bureau and beyond it.

"Good," Dave responded, taking a swig of his drink. "I spoke with Erin about it and she still seems pretty confident in her recommendation. She did have to bring up the matter of you two to McKinney, and the final decision will be his."

Aaron nodded as he saw you approach with the rest of the team. Everyone had decided to meet up early on and grab a table together, so you all began to walk over. Aaron conveniently made sure to find himself right beside you. "You look beautiful," he said, leaning in just barely. He saw the slight blush rise to your face as he complimented you, his eyes running appreciatively over you again.

"Thanks," you smiled, "you look pretty good too." He really did. The man could always pull off a suit, but a tux was just a whole new level of attractive.

He pulled out your chair for you as the group found an empty table in the main room and grabbed the seat right next to you. Emily had grabbed the one on your other side and everyone else had found a spot around the table. Past years, the Ball had been nothing more than an excuse to drink and eat on the Bureau's dime and have fun with your coworkers. This year, however, you had to network and get to know other Section Chiefs and anyone who rolled up directly to McKinney. Both Hotch and Rossi had told you that having all of those people on your side was of the utmost importance. Aaron had already been helping you out in that regard, making sure to bring you along to some inter-departmental meetings and getting your name and face out in front of other leaders. You'd asked if he was giving you special treatment, as you couldn't recall him having done this for anyone else. However, he had assured you that he was not, and that if Reid or JJ to want to move along a similar path, he'd do the same for them. Prentiss and Morgan had a lot more experience and connections of their own, so they wouldn't need him to run interference as much.

Once dinner concluded, the string band started playing ballroom music. You all watched as some coworkers began to lead their partners out onto the dance floor. Derek quickly asked Penelope to dance as well, and the two of them were off, with Will and JJ joining them soon after.

"Alright kiddo, let's do this." Rossi reached for your hand across the table and you quickly accepted, allowing him to lead you out onto the dance floor. He knew that with you, he'd at least be guaranteed a decent partner - Emily had both left feet.

"He's right, you know," Rossi said, as he gently spun you around the dance floor, "you do look beautiful."

You smiled. It was nice having someone know about the two of you.

"You really think I have a chance tonight?" Dave had some experience in this matter - more so than you or Aaron.

"They'd be idiots not to pick you." As he said this, the music changed, and Director McKinney had walked over to ask Rossi for your hand. Rossi graciously handed you off, swaying back to the table for his tenth drink of the night.

McKinney smiled at you and respectfully took your hand in his, his other at your waist. "Hello Agent L/N."

"Good evening, sir." Your heart was thudding in your chest, knowing this was the moment.

"You dance very well," he remarked, as he easily led you through the motions.

"I used to dance as a kid. Not easy to forget." You quickly flashed back to the numerous recitals and lessons - most of which your parents had missed.

"I see." He looked contemplative. Sighing, he says, "You should know, the recent revelation of your relationship complicated the decision making process slightly."

You choose to just nod, not trusting yourself to say anything constructive.

"However, I would like to inform you that you can consider yourself officially tapped."

You felt your heart jump as a large smile broke out across your face. "Thank you sir! I really appreciate it."

"You will be working with me directly. You should also know, the only reason this process was not pushed off the tracks is because it is Aaron you're with."

You looked at him in question, imploring him to continue.

"Agent Hotchner is above reproach. Were it anyone else, we'd have questions about the recommendations and reviews. However, I trust Aaron and so I trust that the two of you have done your due diligence and kept everything above board."

"We have, sir. Thank you. I very much appreciate the opportunity."

As he continues to spin you, you catch Aaron's eye over McKinney's shoulder. You quickly shoot him a grin and a wink, indicating that you got it. His face breaks out into the biggest smile, and you can see him making his way towards you through the crowd. He reaches the two of you right as the music changes, and seeing Aaron approach, McKinney stops.

"Aaron, good to see you."

"Director, how are you?"

The two of them shake hands and exchange pleasantries, before McKinney takes your leave to tend to other guests, promising to have his assistant get in touch with you very soon. Aaron takes that as an opportunity to grab your hand for the upcoming dances, pulling you in much closer than Rossi or McKinney had.

"Congratulations sweetheart," he whispers into your ear as he holds you close, swaying along to the music.

You look up at him and it takes everything in you to not kiss him right there in front of everyone. He catches the look in your eye, because he maneuvers the two of you to a corner of the dance floor where no one on the team is around. Squeezing your hand, he quickly looks around, before leading you off the end and out a side door. Having seen a supply closet across the way, he urges you to follow inside, closing the door behind.

Before you could take another breath, his mouth is greedily on yours, tasting you and drawing out a breathy moan, his name on your lips. Your back is pressed up sharply against a shelf, but the need to just touch him and feel him far surpasses the discomfort. You find yourself unbuttoning his shirt, just to be able to feel skin while he continues to explore your mouth.

His hands have worked their way under the dress and his hands roamed upwards and came in contact with your bare ass. Aaron pulls away, a little surprised at the thong, before returning to his exploration.

You'd managed to open up the collar of his shirt and move your mouth from his, resulting in a whine that turns into a moan as your lips come in contact with his neck. The desire to mark him as yours is something new you're experiencing, but your dedication to the task at hand rewards you with more sounds.

Not satisfied being alone in his ecstasy, Aaron's hand grazes over your breast, drawing a sharp inhale from you as a knot starts to form in your stomach.

"Do you like that?" his voice smooth despite him being a moaning mess a second earlier. You watch as his fingers ghost over your breast and your nipple hardens under his touch. "What about that?" He looks up finally to meet your eyes and his pupils are dilated beyond belief. Briefly you wonder what you must look like.

You'd never really pegged yourself for being much of a talker, but having Aaron talk to you as he touched you was definitely a turn on. You nod shakily, prompting him to cup your breast and run his thumb over the bud, maintaining his eyes on yours. You're afraid you're going to be too loud, so you reach up and kiss him again, allowing him to swallow your moans as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the dampness growing in your underwear and you swear you blacked out for a second when he breaks away from your mouth and takes a nipple into his mouth instead, biting gently through the fabric of your dress.

"Aaron!" You meant for it to be a sharp rebuke but instead what came out could really only be a groan of pleasure.

He looked up at you with false innocence, knowing exactly the effect he'd had on you. However, taking note of where you two were at the moment, he returns his attention to your mouth with promises of continuing later.

By the time the two of you leave the supply closet, trying not to look as though you'd spent the past thirty minutes engaged in intense foreplay, the party was dwindling down and your friends had been looking for you for quite some time.

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